Gon.
Welcome, my lord. I marvel, our mild husband
Not met us on the way. Enter Steward.
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 Glo'ster'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.
It is the cowish terrour 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
Into my husband's hands. This trusty servant
Shall pass between us: you ere long shall hear,
If you dare venture in your own behalf,

A mistress's command. Wear this; spare speech;
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 Glo'ster! [Exit Edmund.
Oh, the strange difference of man, and man!
To thee a woman's services are due,
My fool usurps my body.

Stew.
Madam, here comes my lord. Enter Albany.

Gon.
I have been worth the whistle.

Alb.
Oh Gonerill,
You are not worth the dust, which the rude wind
Blows in your face.—I fear your disposition:
That Nature, which contemns its origine,
Cannot be border'd certain in it self;
She that her self will sliver, and dis-branch,(40) ^note

Gon.
No more; 'tis foolish.

Alb.
Wisdom and goodness to the vile seem vile;
Filths savour but themselves—What have you done?
Tygers, not daughters, what have you perform'd?
A father, and a gracious aged man,
Most barb'rous, most degenerate, have you madded,
Cou'd my good Brother suffer you to do it,
A man, a Prince by him so benefited?
If that the heav'ns do not their visible Spirits
Send quickly down to tame the vile offences,
Humanity must perforce prey on it self,
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,(42) ^note

Fools do these 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 his threats;
Whilst thou, a moral fool, sit'st still, and cry'st,
“Alack! why does he so?—

Alb.
See thy self, devil:
Proper deformity seems not in the fiend
So horrid as in woman.

Gon.
O vain fool!

Alb.
Thou chang'd, and self-converted thing! For shame,(43) ^note
Be-monster not thy feature. Were't my fitness
To let these hands obey my [boiling] blood,
They're apt enough to dislocate and tear
Thy flesh and bones.—Howe'er thou art a fiend,
A woman's shape doth shield thee.—

Gon.
Marry, your manhood now!— Enter Messenger.

Mes.
Oh, my good lord, the Duke of Cornwall's dead:
Slain by his servant, going to put out
The other eye of Glo'ster.

Alb.
Glo'ster's eyes!

Mes.
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
Hath pluck'd him after.

Alb.
This shews you are above,
You Justices, that these our nether crimes
So speedily can venge. But O poor Glo'ster!
Lost he his other eye?

Mes.
Both, both, my lord.
This letter, Madam, craves a speedy answer:
'Tis from your sister.

Gon.
One way, I like this well;
But being widow, and my Glo'ster 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?

Mes.
Come with my lady hither.

Alb.
He's not here.

Mes.
No, my good lord, I met him back again.

Alb.
Knows he the wickedness?

Mes.
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.
Glo'ster, I live
To thank thee for the love thou shew'dst the King,
And to revenge thine eyes. Come hither, friend,
Tell me, what more thou know'st. [Exeunt.

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