Alb. A Herald, ho.
Trust to thy single vertue, for thy Souldiers
All leuied in my name, haue in my name
Tooke their discharge
Regan. My sicknesse growes vpon me
Alb. She is not well, conuey her to my Tent.
Come hither Herald, let the Trumpet sound,
And read out this.
A Trumpet sounds.
Herald reads.
If any man of qualitie or degree, within the lists of the Army, will maintaine vpon Edmund, supposed Earle of Gloster, that he is a manifold Traitor, let him appeare by the third sound of the Trumpet: he is bold in his defence.
1 Trumpet.
Her. Againe.
2 Trumpet.
Her. Againe.