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Section 317
Passage 1 of 3 · section 317 of 830
1Mort.
2Kind Keepers of my weake decaying Age,
3Let dying Mortimer here rest himselfe.
4Euen like a man new haled from the Wrack,
5So fare my Limbes with long Imprisonment:
6And these gray Locks, the Pursuiuants of death,
7Nestor‑like aged, in an Age of Care,
8Argue the end of Edmund Mortimer.