Gon.
Welcome, my lord: I marvel, our mild husband
Not met us on the way:—Now, where's your master?

Ste.
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, ^note seems pleasant to him;
What like, offensive.

Gon.
Then shall you go no further.
It is the cowish terror of ^note his spirit,
That dares not undertake: he'll not feel wrongs,
Which tye him to an answer: Our wishes on the way
May prove effects. Back, Edmund, to ^note my brother;
Hasten his musters, and conduct his powers:
I must change arms at ^note 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 ^note in your own behalf,
A mistress's command. ^note Wear &dagger2; 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 ^note.

Edm.
Yours in the ranks of death.

Gon.
My most dear Gloster! [Exit Edmund.
O, the strange difference of man and man!— ^note

To thee a ^note woman's services are due;
My fool usurps ^note my body.

Ste.
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 ^note wind
Blows in your face. I fear ^note your14Q1363 disposition:
That nature, which contemns it's origin,
Cannot be border'd certain in itself;
She that herself will sliver and disbranch
From her material sap, perforce must wither,
And come to deadly use.

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 reverend head the ^note rugged bear ^note 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 ^note?
If that the heavens do not their visible spirits
Send quickly down to tame the vile offences,
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 ^note
Thine honour from thy suffering; that not know'st, ^note14Q1364
Fools do those ^note 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 ^note his threats;
While 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!

Alb.
Thou chang'd and self-converted ^note thing, for shame ^note
Be-monster not thy feature. Were it my fitness
To let these hands obey my boiling blood,
They are 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 a Messenger. ^note

Alb.
What news?

Mes.
O my good lord, the duke of Cornwal's dead;
Slain by his servant, going to put out
The other eye of Gloster.

Alb.
Gloster's eyes!

Mes.
A servant that he bred, thrill'd with ^note remorse,
Oppos'd against the act, bending his sword
To his great master; who, thereat enrag'd ^note,
Flew on him, and among'st them fell'd him dead: ^note
But not without that harmful stroke, which since
Hath pluck'd him after.

Alb.
This shews you are above,
You justices, ^note that these our nether crimes
So speedily can venge.—But, o poor Gloster!
Lost he his other eye?

Mes.
Both, both, my lord.—

This &dagger2; letter, madam, craves a speedy answer;
'Tis from your sister.

&clquo;Gon.
&clquo;One way I like this well;&crquo;
&clquo;But being widow, and my Gloster with her,&crquo;
&clquo;May all the building in my ^note fancy pluck&crquo;
&clquo;Upon my hateful life: Another way,&crquo;
&clquo;The news is not so tart.&crquo;—I'll ^note 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 ^note

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 on purpose, that their punishment ^note
Might have the freer course.

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

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