SCENE I.

_Enter_[273] KENT.

_Kent._ Fair blows the wind for France; blow gentle gale, Till Edmund be arrived 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 wrongèd 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, 10 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 portion 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._