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.
What most he should dislike, seems pleasant to him;
What like, offensive.

Gon.
Then shall you go no further. [To Edm.
It is the cowish terror of his spirit,
That dares not undertake.
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 on your own behalf,

A mistress's command.
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 duty.

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

Alb.
Oh Gonerill, what have you done?
Tygers, not daughters, what have you performed?
A father and a gracious aged man,
Most barb'rous, most degenerate, have you madded.
How cou'd my brother suffer you to do it,
A man, a prince by him so benefited?

Gon.
Milk liver'd man!
That bear'st a cheek for blows, a head for wrongs;
Where's thy drum?
France spreads his banners in our noiseless land,
Whilst thou, a moral fool, sit'st still, and cry'st,
“Alack! why does he so?”—

Alb.
Thou chang'd, and self-converted thing! for shame,
Be-monster not thy feature. Enter Messenger.

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

Alb.
Glo'ster's eyes!

Mes.
A servant, that he bred, thrill'd with remorse,
Oppos'd the horrid act; bending his sword
Against his master: who, thereat inrag'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!
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, he is return'd 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. [Going, returns.
See thyself, Gonerill!
Proper deformity shews not in the fiend,
So horrid as in woman.

Gon.
O vain fool! [Exit Alb. and Mess.
That hast not in thy brows an eye discerning
Thine honour from thy suffering! Enter Steward, with a letter.

Stew.
This letter, madam, craves a speedy answer:
'Tis from your sister. Cornwall being dead,
His loss your sister has in part supply'd,
Making earl Edmund general of her forces.

Gon.
One way I like this well:
But being widow, and my Glo'ster with her,
May pluck down all the building of my love.
I'll read, and answer these dispatches strait.
It was great ign'rance, Glo'ster's eyes being out,
To let him live. Add speed unto your journey;
And if you chance to meet that old blind traitor,
Preferment falls on him that cuts him off. [Exeunt.

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