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I shall no leading need.
Edg:

Give me thy arm;
Poor Tom shall lead thee.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Before the Duke of Albany's Palace.

Enter GONERIL and EDMUND; Steward meeting

them. Gon. Welcome, my lord : I marvel, our mild hus

band Not met us on the way :-Now, where's your master?

Stew. Madam, within; but never man so chang’d: I told him of the army that was landed ; He smil'd at it: I told him, you were coming ; His answer was, The worse: of Gloster's treachery, 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.

[To EDMUND. It is the cowish terror of his spirit, That dares not undertake: he'll not feel wrongs, Which tie him to an answer : Our wishes, on the way, May prove effects. Back, Edmund, to my brother; Hasten his musters, and conduct his powers : I must change arms at home, and give the distaff

91.e. Our wishes on the road may be completed.

Into my husband's hands. This trusty servant
Shall 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. 0, the difference of man, and man! To thee A woman's services are due; my fool Usurps my bed. Stew. Madam, here comes my lord.

[Exit Steward.

Enter ALBANY.

Gon. I have been worth the whistle.?
Alb.

O Goneril !
You are not worth the dust which the rude wind
Blows in your face.--I fear your disposition :
That nature, which contemns its origin,
Cannot be border'd certain in itself ;
She that herself will slivera and disbranch
From her material sap, perforce must wither,
And come to deadly use.

Gon. No more; the text is foolish.

dlb. Wisdom and goodness to the vile seem vile: Filthis savour but themselves. What have you done?

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Tigers, not daughters, what have you perform’d?
A father, and a gracious aged man,
Whose reverence the head-lugg'd bear would lick,
Most barbarous, most degenerate! have you madded:
Could my good brother suffer you to do it?
A man, a prince, by him so benefited ?
If that the heavens do not their visible spirits
Send quickly down to tame these vile offences,
"Twill come,
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. Where's thy drum?
France spreads his banners in our noiseless land;
With plumed helm thy slayer begins threats;
Whilst thou, a moral fool, sit'st still, and cry'st,
Alack ! why does he so ?
Alb.

See thyself, devil!
Proper deformity seems not in the fiend
So horrid, as in woman.
Gon.

O vain fool!
All. Thou changed and self-cover'd thing, for

shame,
Be-monster not thy feature. Were it my fitness
To let these hands obey my blood,
They are apt enough to dálocate and tear
Thy flesh and bones:~Howe'er thou art a fiend,

2

2 Inclination.

A woman's shape doth shield thee.

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 felld him dead:
But not without that harmful stroke, which since
Hath pluck'd him after.
Alb.

This shows you are above, You justicers, that these our nether crimes So speedily can venge !-But, O poor Gloster ! Lost he his other eye! NIess.

Both, both, my lord.
This letter, madam, craves a speedy answer;
'Tis from your sister.

Gon. [Aside.] 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.

[Erit. Alb. Where was his son, when they did take his

eyes? Mess. Come with my lady hither.

Alb.

He is not here. Mess. No, my good lord; I met him back again. Alb. Knows he the wickedness ? Mess. Ay, my good lord ; 'twas he inform'd against

him;

Alb.

And quit the house on purpose, that their punishment Might have the freer course.

Gloster, I live To thank thee for the love thou showd'st the king, And to revenge thine eyes.-Come hither, friend; Tell me what more thou knowest.

[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

demonstration of grief? Gent. Ay, sir; she took them, read them in my

presence; And now and then an ample tear trillid down Her delicate cheek: it seem'd, she was a queen

to any

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