¶Enter Gonorill and Bastard.
¶Gon. Welcome my Lord, I maruaile our milde husband
¶Not met vs on the way: now, where's your Ma
ster?
2270Stew. Madame within, but neuer man
so chang'd; I tolde him
¶of the Army that was landed, he
smiled at it, I told him you were
¶coming, his an
swer was, the wor
se; of
Glosters treachery, and of
2275the loyall
seruice of his
sonne, when I enformd him, then he cald
me sot, and told me I had turnd the wrong side out, what hee
¶should mo
st de
sire,
seemes plea
sant to him, what like offen
siue.
¶Gon. Then
shall you go no further.
2280It is the cowi
sh curre of his
spirit
¶That dares not vndertake, heel not feele wrongs
¶Which tye him to an an
swer, our wi
shes on the way
¶May proue effects, backe
Edmund to my brother,
¶Ha
sten his mu
sters, and conduct his powers,
2285I mu
st change armes at home, and giue the di
staffe
¶Into my husbands hands; this tru
sty
seruant
¶Shall pa
sse betweene vs, ere long you are like to heare
¶If you dare venter in your owne behalfe
¶A mi
stre
sses coward, weare this
spare
speech,
2290Decline your head: this ki
sse if it dur
st
speake,
¶Would
strech thy
spirits vp into the ayre;
¶Conceiue, and faryewell.
¶Bast. Yours in the rankes of death.
¶Gon. My mo
st deare Glo
ster, to thee womans
seruices are due,
¶My foote v
surpes my head.
¶Stew. Madame, heere comes my Lord.
2300Gon. I haue bene worth the whi
stle.
¶Enter the Duke of Albeney.
¶Alb. O
Gonorill, you are not worth the du
st which the winde
¶Blowes in your face, I feare your di
spo
sition,
2303.1That nature which contemnes it origin,
¶Cannot be bordered certaine in it
selfe,
¶She that her
selfe will
sliuer and disbranch
¶From her materiall
sap, perforce mu
st wither,
.5And come to deadly v
se.
¶Gon. No more, the text is fooli
sh.
¶Alb. Wi
sedome and goodne
sse to the vilde
seeme vilde,
¶Filths
sauour but them
selues, what haue you done?
¶Tygers, not daughters, what haue you perform'd?
.10A father, and a gracious aged man,
¶Who
se reuerence the head-lugd Beare would licke;
¶Mo
st barbarous, mo
st degenerate haue you madded;
¶Could my good brother
suffer you to do it?
¶A man, a Prince, by him
so beneflicted,
.15If that the heauens do not their vi
sible
spirits
¶Send quickly downe to tame the vilde offences, it will come
¶Humanly mu
st perforce prey on it
selfe, like mon
sters of the
2305That beare
st a cheeke for blowes, a head for wrongs,
¶Who ha
st not in thy browes an eie de
seruing thine honour,
¶From thy
suffering, that not know'
st fooles, do the
se villains pity
2307.1Who are puni
sht ere they haue done their mi
schiefe,
¶Where's thy drum?
France spreds his banners in our noi
sele
sse
¶Land, with plumed helme thy
slaier begins threats,
¶Whiles thou a morall foole,
sits
still and cries
.5Alacke, why does he
so?
¶Alb. See thy
selfe diuell, proper deformiry
seemes not in the
¶fiend,
so horrid as in woman.
2311.1Alb. Thou chang'd and
selfe-couerd thing, for
shame
¶Be-mon
ster not thy feature, wer't my fitne
sse
¶To let the
se hands obey my bloud,
¶They are apt enough to di
slecate and teare
.5Thy fle
sh and bones, how ere thou art a fiend,
¶A womans
shape doth
shield thee.
¶Gon. Marry your man-hood now -------
Alb. What newes?
¶Gent. O my good Lord, the Duke of
Cornwalls dead,
slaine by
¶his
seruant, going to put out the other eie of
Gloster.
¶Gen. A
seruant that he bred, thrald with remor
se,
¶Oppos'd again
st the acte, bending his
sword
¶To his great ma
ster, who thereat enraged,
2320Flew on him, and among
st them feld him dead,
¶But not without that harmfull
stroke,
Which since hath pluckt him after.
¶Alb. This
shewes you are aboue your Iu
stices,
¶That the
se our neather crimes
so
speedily can venge.
2325But oh poore
Glocester, lo
st he his other eye?
¶Gent. Both, both my Lord, this letter Madam, craues a
speedy
¶An
swer, tis from your
si
ster.
2330Gon. One way I like this well,
¶But being widow, and my
Glocester with her,
¶May all the building on my fancy plucke,
¶Vpon my hatefull life, another way the newes is not
so tooke,
2335Alb. Where was his
sonne when they did take his eies?
¶Gent. Come with my Lady hither.
¶Gent. No my good Lord, I met him backe againe.
2340Alb. Knowes he the wickedne
sse?
¶Gent. I my good Lord, twas he inform'd again
st him,
¶And quit the hou
se on purpo
se, that their puni
shment
¶Might haue the freer cour
se.
¶Alb. Glocester, I liue to thanke thee for the loue
2345Thou
shewed
st the King, and to reuenge thy eyes;
¶Come hether friend, tell me what more thou knowe
st.