Storme and Tempest.
But this heart shal break into a hundred thousand flawes
Or ere Ile weepe; O Foole, I shall go mad.
Exeunt.
Corn. Let vs withdraw, 'twill be a Storme
Reg. This house is little, the old man and's people,
Cannot be well bestow'd
Gon. 'Tis his owne blame hath put himselfe from rest,
And must needs taste his folly
Reg. For his particular, Ile receiue him gladly,
But not one follower
Gon. So am I purpos'd,
Where is my Lord of Gloster?
Enter Gloster.
Corn. Followed the old man forth, he is return'd
Glo. The King is in high rage