I can not strike. [Drops her arm] I must ... ere I go mad
And leave the event to chance.
[Lifts dagger, grows faint and falls with a cry to the floor. Kent enters, left]
Kent. Twas Margaret's voice. My love?
[Advances and sees Margaret on the floor]
O, life of mine!
[Looks toward bed]
Glaia! Uncovered—bleeding—dead! Put out
My eyes! Out ... out. What cruelty yet lives
In Heaven to show me this? O, Eleanor,