JOHN. Your dear son Jack-an-apes;
Your monkey, your baboon, your ass, your gull!
LEI. What ails Earl John?
JOHN. Hence, further from my sight!
My fiery thoughts and wrath have work in hand;
I'll curse ye blacker than th'Avernian[489] Lake,
If you stand wond'ring at my sorrow thus.
I am with child, big, hugely swoll'n with rage,
Who'll play the midwife, and my throbs assuage?
KING. I will, my son.
HEN. I will, high-hearted brother.
JOHN. You will? and you? tut, tut, all you are nothing!
'Twill out, 'twill out, myself myself can ease:
You chafe, you swell: ye are commanding King.
My father is your footstool, when ye please.
Your word's a law; these lords dare never speak.
Gloster must die; your enemies must fall!
HEN. What means our brother?
JOHN. He means that thou art mad:
She frantic: Leicester foolish: I the babe—
Thou grind us, bite us, vex us, charge and discharge.
Gloster, O Gloster!
QUEEN. Where is Gloster, son?
HEN. Where is Gloster, brother?