Locrine, stand up, and wear the regal Crown,
And think upon the state of Majesty,
That thou with honor well mayest wear the crown.
And if thou tendrest these my latest words,
As thou requirest my soul to be at rest,
As thou desirest thine own security,
Cherish and love thy new betrothed wife.

LOCRINE.
No longer let me well enjoy the crown,
Than I do honour peerless Gwendoline.

BRUTUS.
Camber.

CAMBER.
My Lord.

BRUTUS.
The glory of mine age,
And darling of thy mother Imogen,
Take thou the South for thy dominion.
From thee there shall proceed a royal race,
That shall maintain the honor of this land,
And sway the regal scepter with their hands.

[Turning to Albanact.]

And Albanact, thy father's only joy,