Thy mother laughed when thou wast born, Locrine.
LOCRINE.
Did she not well? sweet laughter speaks not scorn.
GUENDOLEN.
And thou didst laugh, and wept’st not, to be born.
LOCRINE.
Did I then ill? didst thou, then, weep to be?
GUENDOLEN.
The same star lit not thee to birth and me.
LOCRINE.