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Act Four, Scene One

Enter Edmund [earle of Kent].

Faire blowes the winde for Fraunce, blowe gentle gale,
Till Edmund be arrivde for Englands good,
Nature, yeeld to my countries cause in this.
A brother, no, a butcher of thy friends,
Proud Edward, doost thou banish me thy presence?
But ile to Fraunce, and cheere the wronged Queene,
And certifie what Edwards loosenes is.
Unnaturall king, to slaughter noble men
And cherish flatterers:
Mortimer I stay thy sweet escape,
Stand gratious gloomie night to his device.
Enter Mortimer disguised.

Holla, who walketh there, ist you my lord ?
Kent. Mortimer tis I,
But hath
thy potion wrought so happilie?

It hath my lord, the warders all a sleepe,
I thanke them, gave me leave to passe in peace:
But hath your grace got shipping
unto Fraunce?

Feare it not.

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