Lay not on me thine own foul shame, whose tongue Would turn my blood to poison, while it stung Thy brother’s fame to death. I know my sire As shame knows thee—and better no man knows Aught. CAMBER. Have thy will, then: take thy full desire: Drink dry the draught of ruin: bid all blows Welcome: being harsh with friends, be mild with foes, And give shame thanks for buffets. Yet I thought— But how should help avail where heart is nought? MADAN. Yet—thou didst think to help me? CAMBER. Kinsman, ay. My hand had held the field beside thine own, And all wild hills that know my rallying cry Had poured forth war for heart’s pure love alone To help thee—wouldst thou heed me—to thy throne. MADAN. For pure heart’s love? what wage holds love in fee? Might half my kingdom serve? Nay, mock not me, Fair uncle: should I cleave the crown in twain And gird thy temples with the goodlier half, Think’st thou my debt might so be paid again— Thy sceptre made a more imperial staff Than sways as now thy hill-folk? CAMBER. Dost thou laugh? Were this too much for kings to give and take? If warrior Wales do battle for thy sake, Should I that kept thy crown for thee be held Worth less than royal guerdon? MADAN. Keep thine own, And let the loud fierce knaves thy brethren quelled Ward off the wolves whose hides should line thy throne, Wert thou no coward, no recreant to the bone, No liar in spirit and soul and heartless heart, No slave, no traitor—nought of all thou art. A thing like thee, made big with braggart breath, Whose tongue shoots fire, whose promise poisons trust, Would cast a shieldless soldier forth to death And wreck three realms to sate his rancorous lust With ruin of them who have weighed and found him dust. Get thee to Wales: there strut in speech and swell: And thence betimes God speed thee safe to hell. [_Exeunt severally_. ACT IV. SCENE I.—_The banks of the Ley_. _Enter_ LOCRINE _and_ ESTRILD. LOCRINE. If thou didst ever love me, love me now. I am weary at heart of all on earth save thee. And yet I lie: and yet I lie not. Thou— Dost thou not think for love’s sake scorn of me? ESTRILD. As earth of heaven: as morning of the sun. LOCRINE. Nay, what thinks evening, whom he leaves undone? ESTRILD.