Gon.
Welcome, my lord: I marvel, our mild husband^{3 note}

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^{4 note}

Hasten his musters, and conduct his powers:
I must change arms^{5 note} at home, and give the distaff
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 mistress's 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^{6 note}
;—
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^{7 note}

Stew.
Madam, here comes my lord. [Exit Steward. Enter Albany.

Gon.
I have been worth the whistle* ^{note 9 note}

Alb.
O Goneril!
You are not worth the dust which the rude wind
Blows in your face.—I fear your disposition^{1 note}:
That nature, which contemns its origin,
Cannot be border'd certain in itself^{2 note}
;
She that herself will sliver and disbranch^{3 note}

From her material sap^{4 note}

Gon.
No more; the text is foolish.

Alb.
Wisdom and goodness to the vile seem vile:
Filths savour but themselves. What have you done?
Tigers, not daughters, what have you perform'd?
A father, and a gracious aged man,

Whose reverence the head-lugg'd bear would lick^{6 note},
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^{7 note},
'Twill come,
Humanity must perforce prey on itself,
Like monsters of the deep^{8 note}

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^{9 note},
Fools do those villains pity^{1 note}

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^{2 note} seems not* ^note in the fiend
So horrid, as in woman.

Gon.
O vain fool!

Alb.
Thou changed and self-cover'd thing^{3 note}

Be-monster not thy feature^{4 note}. Were it my fitness
To let these hands obey my blood^{5 note}

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^{6 note}:
But not without that harmful stroke, which since
Hath pluck'd him after.

Alb.
This shows you are above,
You justicers^{7 note}, that these our nether crimes

So speedily can venge!—But, O poor Gloster!
Lost he his other eye!

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

Gon. [Aside.]
One way I like this well^{8 note};
But being widow, and my Gloster with her,
May all the building in my fancy^{9 note} pluck
Upon my hateful life: Another way,
The news is not so tart* ^note.—I'll read, and answer. [Exit.

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

Alb.
Gloster, I live
To thank thee for the love thou show'dst the king,
And to revenge thine eyes.—Come hither, friend;
Tell me what more thou knowest. [Exeunt.

1 ^note