And of the loyal service of his son, When I inform'd him, then he call'd me sot; And told me, I had turn'd the wrong side out: What most he should dislike, seems pleasant to him; What like, offensive. Gon. Then shall you go no further. It is the cowish terror of his spirit, That dares not undertake: he'll not feel [To Edmund. wrongs, Which tie him to an answer: Our wishes, on the way, May prove effects. Back, Edmund, to my brother; I must change arms at home, and give the distaff pass between us: ere long you are like to hear, If you dare venture in your own behalf, A mistresses command. Wear this; spare speech; [giving a favour. Decline your head: this kiss, if it durst speak, Would stretch thy spirits up into the air; Conceive, and fare thee well. Edm. Yours in the ranks of death. Gon. My most dear Gloster! [Exit Edmund. O, the difference of man, and man! To thee Usurps my bed. Stew. Madam, here comes my lord. [Exit Steward. Enter ALBANY. Gon. I have been worth the whistle 75. Alb. O Goneril! You are not worth the dust which the rude wind Blows in your face.-I fear your disposition: She that herself will sliver and disbranch From her material sap, perforce must wither, Gon. No more; the text is foolish. Alb. Wisdom and goodness to the vile seem vile: Whose reverence the head-lugg'd bear would lick, If that the heavens do not their visible spirits Humanity must perforce prey on itself, Like monsters of the deep. Gon. Milk-liver'd man! That bear'st a cheek for blows, a head for wrongs; Who hast not in thy brows an eye discerning Thine honour from thy suffering; that not know'st, Fools do those villains pity, who are punish'd Ere they have done their mischief. drum? Where's thy France spreads his banners in our noiseless land; Alb. See thyself, devil! Proper deformity seems not in the fiend So horrid, as in woman. Gon. O vain fool! Alb. 76 Thou changed and self-cover'd thing, for shame, Be-monster not thy feature. Were it my fitness They are apt enough to dislocate and tear Thy flesh and bones: -Howe'er thou art a fiend, Gon. Marry, your manhood now! Enter a Messenger. Alb. What news? Mess. O, my good lord, the duke of Cornwall's dead; Slain by his servant, going to put out The other eye of Gloster. Alb. Gloster's eyes! Mess. A servant that he bred, thrill'd with remorse, Oppos'd against the act, bending his sword To his great master; who, thereat enrag'd, Flew on him, and amongst them fell'd him dead: But not without that harmful stroke, which since Alb. This shows you are above, You justicers, that these our nether crimes So speedily can venge!-But, O poor Gloster! Mess. Both, both, my lord.This letter, madam, craves a speedy answer; 'Tis from your sister. Gon. [Aside.] 77 One way I like this well; But being widow, and my Gloster with her, May all the building in my fancy pluck Upon my hateful life: Another way, The news is not so tart.-I'll read, and answer. [Exit. Alb. Where was his son, when they did take his eyes? Mess. Come with my lady hither. He is not here. Alb. Mess. Ay, my good lord; 'twas he inform'd against him; And quit the house on purpose, that their punishment Might have the freer course. Alb. Gloster, I live To thank thee for the love thou show'dst the king, [Exeunt. [SCENE III. The French Camp, near Dover. Enter KENT, and a Gentleman. Kent. Why the king of France is so suddenly gone back know you the reason? Gent. Something he left imperfect in the state, Which since his coming forth is thought of; which Imports to the kingdom so much fear and danger, That his personal return was most requir'd, And necessary. Kent. Who hath he left behind him general? Gent. The Mareschal of France, Monsieur le Fer. Kent. Did your letters pierce the queen to any demonstration of grief? Gent. Ay, sir; she took them, read them in my presence; And now and then an ample tear trill'd down Sought to be king o'er her. Kent. O, then it mov'd her. Gent. Not to a rage: patience and sorrow strove |