Lest it see more, prevent it:—Out, vile jelly:
Where is thy lustre now?
(Tears out Gloster's other eye, and throws it on the ground.)
GLOSTER.
All dark and comfortless. Where's my son?...
REGAN.
Go, thrust him out at gates, and let him smell
His way to Dover....
CALIBAN.
Beat him enough: after a little time,
I'll beat him too.
Pry thee, my king, be quiet: seest thou here,
This is the mouth o' the cell: no noise, and enter:
Do that good mischief, which may make this island
Thine own for ever, and I, thy Caliban,
For aye thy foot-licker.