GENTLEMAN

Yes Madam. He's coming Madam I hear him. Very well Madam. One minded Like the weather most unquietly. Contending with the fretful element, Bids the wind blow the earth into the sea, Or swell the curled waters above the main That things might change or cease, tears his white hair, Which the impetuous blasts with eyles rage Catch in their fury, and make nothing of, Strives in his little world of man to outscorne, The too and from conflicting wind and rain, This night wherein the cub-drawne Bear would couch, The Lion, and the belly pinched Wolf Keep their surre dry, unbonneted he runs, And bids what will take all. None but the fool, who labours to out-iest His heart struck injuries. I will talk farther with you. Give mey our hand, have you no more to say? Oh my good Lord the Duke of Cornwals dead, slain by his servant, going to put out the other eye of Gloucester. Both, both my Lord, this letter Madam craves a speedy answer, 'Tis from your sister. Come with my Lady hither. No my good Lord I met him back again. I my good Lord it he informed against him, And quit the house on purpose that there punishment Might have the freer course. Something he left imperfect in the state, which since his coming forth is thought of, which imports to the Kingdom, So much fear and danger that his personal return was most re quired and necessary. The Marshal of France Monsieur la Far. I say she took them, read them in my presence, And now and then and ample tear trilled down Her delicate cheek, it seemed she was a queen over her passion, Who most rebel-like, sought to be King over her. Not to a rage, patience and sorrow stream, Who should express her goodliest you have seen, Sun shine and rain at once, her smiles and tears, Were Like a better way those happy smilets, That played on her ripe lip seem not to know, What guests were in her eyes which parted thence, As pearls from diamonds dropped in brief, Sorrow would be a rarity most beloved, If all could so become it. Faith once or twice she heaved the name of father, Pantingly forth as if it pressed her heart, Cried sisters, sisters, shame of Ladies sisters: Kenned, father, sisters, what ith storm ith night, Let pity not be beleeft there she shook, The holy water from her heavenly eyes, And clamour moistened her, then away she started, To deal with grief alone. No. No, since. Why good sir? Alack poor Gentleman. 'Tis so they are a foot. Oh here he is, lay hands upon him sirs, your most deer You shall have any thing. You are a royal one, and we obey you. A sighed most pitiful in the meanest wretch, passed spea king of in a king: thou hast one daughter who redeems nature from the general curse which twain hath brought her to. Sir speed you, whats your will. Most sure and vulgar every one here's that That can distinguish sense. Near and on speed fort the main descries, Standest on the hourly thoughts. Though that the Queen on special cause is here, His army is moved on. Good madam be by, when we do awake him I doubt not of his temperance. Holds it true sir that the Duke of Cornwall was so slain? Who is conductor of his people? They say Edgar his banished son is with the Earl of Kenned in Germany. The arbiterment is Like to be bloody, fare you well sir. Help, help, Its hight it smokes, it came even from the heart of Your Lady sir, your Lady, and her sister By her is poisoned, she hath confessed it. A servant that he bred, thralled with remorse, Opposed against the act, bending his sword To his great master, who thereat enraged Flew on him, and amongst them, felled him dead, But not without that harmful stroke, which since Hath plucked him after.