ACT IV.
3. Scene III. The French camp near Dover.
[Enter Kent and a Gentleman.]
Kent.
Why the king of France is so suddenly gone back know you the
reason?
Gent.
Something he left imperfect in the state, which since his coming
forth is thought of, which imports to the kingdom so much fear
and danger that his personal return was most required and
necessary.
Kent.
Who hath he left behind him general?
Gent.
The Mareschal of France, Monsieur La Far.
Kent.
Did your letters pierce the queen to any demonstration of grief?
Gent.
Ay, sir; she took them, read them in my presence;
And now and then an ample tear trill'd down
Her delicate cheek: it seem'd she was a queen
Over her passion; who, most rebel-like,
Sought to be king o'er her.
Kent.
O, then it mov'd her.
Gent.
Not to a rage: patience and sorrow strove
Who should express her goodliest. You have seen
Sunshine and rain at once: her smiles and tears
Were like, a better day: those happy smilets
That play'd on her ripe lip seem'd not to know
What guests were in her eyes; which parted thence
As pearls from diamonds dropp'd.--In brief, sorrow
Would be a rarity most belov'd, if all
Could so become it.
Kent.
Made she no verbal question?
Gent.
Faith, once or twice she heav'd the name of 'father'
Pantingly forth, as if it press'd her heart;
Cried 'Sisters, sisters!--Shame of ladies! sisters!
Kent! father! sisters! What, i' the storm? i' the night?
Let pity not be believ'd!'--There she shook
The holy water from her heavenly eyes,
And clamour moisten'd: then away she started
To deal with grief alone.
Kent.
It is the stars,
The stars above us, govern our conditions;
Else one self mate and mate could not beget
Such different issues. You spoke not with her since?
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