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To Danaë, all aid may be denied
To Isabel, the queen, that now in France
Makes friends, to cross the seas with her young son,
And step into his father's regiment.
LEcu NE. That's it these barons and the subtle
queen -
Long levied at.
BAL. Yea, but, Lecune, thou seest,
These barons lay their heads on blocks together;
What they intend, the hangman frustrates clean.
LEcun E. Have you no doubt, my lords, I'll clap so
close
Among the lords of France with England's gold,
That Isabel shall make her plaints in vain,
And France shall be obdurate with her tears.
Y. SPEN. Then make for France, amain—Lecune,
away!
Proclaim king Edward's wars and victories.

[Ereunt omnes.

ACT THE FOURTH.
- SCENE I.

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 1 to slaughter noble men
And cherish flatterers : Mortimer, I stay
Thy sweet escape; stand gracious, gloomy night, to
his device.
Enter Young MoRTIMER disguised.
Y. MoR. Holloa who walketh there 2 is't you,
my lord?
KENT. Mortimer, 'tis I; but hath my potion
wrought so happily 2
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. {Ereunt.

SCENE II.
Enter the QUEEN and her SoN.
Queen. Ah, boy! our friends do fail us all in
France;

The lords are cruel, and the king unkind;
What shall we do 2 -

PRIN ce. Madam, return to England,
And please my father well, and then a fig
For all my uncle's friendship here in France.
I warrant you, I'll win his highness quickly;
He loves me better than a thousand Spencers.

Queen. Ah, boy, thou art deceiv'd, at least in this,

To think that we can yet be tun'd together;
No, no, we jar too far. Unkind Valois!
Unhappy Isabel, when France rejects,
Whither, oh whither dost thou bend thy steps?
Enter Sir Joh N of HEN AULt.
SIR. J. Madam, what cheer?
QUEEN. Ah, good Sir John of Henault.
Never so cheerless, nor so far distrest.
SIR. J. I hear, sweet lady, of the king's unkind-
ness;
But droop not, madam, noble minds contemn
Despair: will your grace with me to Henault,
And there stay time's advantage with your son :
How say you, my lord, will you go with your friends,
And shake off all your fortunes equally?
PRIN ce. So pleaseth the queen, my mother, me
it likes:
The king of England, nor the court of France,
Shall have me from my gracious mother's side,
Till I be strong enough to break a staff;
And then have at the proudest Spencer's head.
SIR. J. Well said, my lord,
Qu EEN. Oh, my sweet heart, how do l moan thy
wrongs,
Yet triumph in the hope of thee, my joy!
Ah, sweet sir John!' even to the utmost verge
Of Europe, or the shore of Tanais,
We will with thee to Henault—so we will :—
The marquis is a noble gentleman;
His grace, I dare presume, will welcome me.

But who are these ?
Enter KENT and Young MoRTIMER.
KENT. Madam, long may you live,
Much happier than your friends in England do!
QUEEN. Lord Edmund and lord Mortimer alive!
Welcome to France: the news was here, my lord,
That you were dead, or very near your death.
Y. MoR. Lady, the last was truest of the twain:
But Mortimer, reserv'd for better hap,
Hath shaken off the thraldom of the tower,
And lives to advance your standard, good my lord.
PRIN ce. How mean you, and the king, my father,
lives?
No, my lord Mortimer, not I, I trow.
QUEEN. Not, son; why not? I would it were no
worse.
But, gentle lords, friendless we are in France.
Y. MoR. Monsieur le Grand, a noble friend of
your's,
Told us, at our arrival, all the news;
How hard the nobles, how unkind the king
Hath shew'd himself! but, madam, right makes
room,
Where weapons won't; and though so many friends
Are made away, as Warwick, Lancaster,
And others of our party and faction;
Yet have we friends, assure your grace, in England,
Would cast up caps, and clap their hands for joy,
To see us there, appointed for our foes.

Kent. Would all were well, and Edward well reclaim'd, For England's honour, peace, and quietness. Y. MoR. But by the sword, my lord, it must be deserv'd; The king will ne'er forsake his flatterers. SIR. J. My lords of England, sith th' ungentle king Of France refuseth to give aid of arms To this distressed queen his sister here, Go you with her to Henault; doubt ye not, We will find comfort, money, men and friends Ere long, to bid the English king abase. How say you, prince, what think you of the match? PRIN cf. I think king Edward will outrun us all. QUEEN. Nay, son, not so; and you must not discourage Your friends, that are so forward in your aid. KENt. Sir John of Henault, pardon us, I pray; These comforts that you give our woeful queen Bind us in kindness all at your command. QUEEN. Yea, gentle brother; and the God of heav'n Prosper your happy motion, good sir John. Y. MoR. This noble gentleman, forward in arms, Was born, I see, to be our anchor-hold. Sir John of Henault, be it thy renown, That England's queen, and nobles in distress, Have been by thee restor'd and comforted.

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