Act IV Scene I |
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Act IVScene I
Scene I
Near the Tower of London]
Enter Kent
Kent. Fair blows the wind for France; blow gentle gale,
Till Edmund be arriv`d for England`s good!
Nature, yield to my country`s cause in this.
A brother? No, a butcher of thy friends!
Proud Edward, dost thou banish me thy presence?
But I`ll to France, and cheer the wronged queen,
And certify what Edward`s looseness is.
Unnatural king! to slaughter noblemen
And cherish flatterers! Mortimer, I stay
Thy sweet escape: stand gracious, gloomy night,
To his device.
Enter Young Mortimer, disguised
Y. Mor. Holla! who walketh there?
Is`t you, my lord?
Kent. Mortimer, `tis I;
But hath thy potion wrought so happily?
Y. Mor. It hath, my Lord; the warders all asleep,
I thank them, gave me leave to pass in peace.
But hath your grace got shipping unto France?
Kent. Fear it not.
Exeunt.
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