REGAN.
Jesters do oft prove prophets.
GONERIL.
Holla, holla!
That eye that told you so look’d but asquint.
REGAN.
Lady, I am not well; else I should answer
From a full-flowing stomach. General,
Take thou my soldiers, prisoners, patrimony;
Dispose of them, of me; the walls are thine:
Witness the world that I create thee here
My lord and master.
GONERIL.
Mean you to enjoy him?
ALBANY.
The let-alone lies not in your good will.
EDMUND.
Nor in thine, lord.
ALBANY.
Half-blooded fellow, yes.
REGAN.
[To Edmund.] Let the drum strike, and prove my title thine.
ALBANY.
Stay yet; hear reason: Edmund, I arrest thee
On capital treason; and, in thine arrest,
This gilded serpent. [pointing to Goneril.]
For your claim, fair sister,
I bar it in the interest of my wife;
’Tis she is sub-contracted to this lord,
And I her husband contradict your bans.
If you will marry, make your loves to me,
My lady is bespoke.
GONERIL.
An interlude!