What will you do? Come, sir, what letters had you late from France? Be simple answerer, for we know the truth. And what confederacy have you with the traitors Late footed in the kingdom? To whose hands have you sent the lunatic king? Speak. I have a letter guessingly set down, Which came from one that's of a neutral heart, And not from one opposed. Cunning. And false. Where hast thou sent the king? To Dover. Wherefore to Dover? Wast thou not charged at peril-- Wherefore to Dover? Let him first answer that. I am tied to the stake, and I must stand the course. Wherefore to Dover, sir? Because I would not see thy cruel nails Pluck out his poor old eyes; nor thy fierce sister In his anointed flesh stick boarish fangs. The sea, with such a storm as his bare head In hell-black night endured, would have buoy'd up, And quench'd the stelled fires: Yet, poor old heart, he holp the heavens to rain. If wolves had at thy gate howl'd that stern time, Thou shouldst have said 'Good porter, turn the key,' All cruels else subscribed: but I shall see The winged vengeance overtake such children. See't shalt thou never. Fellows, hold the chair. Upon these eyes of thine I'll set my foot. He that will think to live till he be old, Give me some help! O cruel! O you gods! One side will mock another; the other too. If you see vengeance,-- Hold your hand, my lord: I have served you ever since I was a child; But better service have I never done you Than now to bid you hold. How now, you dog! If you did wear a beard upon your chin, I'd shake it on this quarrel. What do you mean? My villain! Nay, then, come on, and take the chance of anger. Give me thy sword. A peasant stand up thus! O, I am slain! My lord, you have one eye left To see some mischief on him. O! Lest it see more, prevent it. Out, vile jelly! Where is thy lustre now? All dark and comfortless. Where's my son Edmund? Edmund, enkindle all the sparks of nature, To quit this horrid act. Out, treacherous villain! Thou call'st on him that hates thee: it was he That made the overture of thy treasons to us; Who is too good to pity thee. O my follies! then Edgar was abused. Kind gods, forgive me that, and prosper him! Go thrust him out at gates, and let