She disappears through the curtains. GONERIL has sprung to her feet at the first sound of GORMFLAITH'S voice. LEAR enters through the garden doorway, leading GORMFLAITH by the hand.
Lear:
Goneril (advancing to meet them with a deep obeisance):
O, Sir, the Queen is dead: long live the Queen,
You have been ready with the coronation.
Lear:
What do you mean? Young madam, will you mock?
Goneril:
But is not she your choice?
The old Queen thought so, for I found her here,
Lipping the prints of her supplanter's feet,
Prostrate in homage, on her face, silent.
I tremble within to have seen her fallen down.
I must be pardoned if I scorn your ways:
You cannot know this feeling that I know,
You are not of her kin or house; but I
Share blood with her, and, though she grew too worn
To be your Queen, she was my mother, Sir.
Gormflaith:
The Queen has seen me.