Reg.
But are my brother's powers set forth?

Stew.
Ay, madam.

Reg.
Himself
In person there?

Stew.
Madam, with much ado:
Your sister is the better soldier.

Reg.
Lord Edmund spake not with your lord^{7 note}

Stew.
No, madam.

Reg.
What might import my sister's letter to him?

Stew.
I know not, lady.

Reg.
'Faith, he is posted hence on serious matter.
It was great ignorance, Gloster's eyes being out,
To let him live; where he arrives, he moves
All hearts against us: Edmund, I think, is gone,
In pity of his misery, to despatch
His nighted life^{8 note}; moreover, to descry
The strength o'the enemy.

Stew.
I must needs after him, madam, with my letter^{9 note}.

Reg.
Our troops set forth to-morrow; stay with us;
The ways are dangerous.

Stew.
I may not, madam;
My lady charg'd my duty in this business.

Reg.
Why should she write to Edmund? Might not you
Transport her purposes by word? Belike,
Something—I know not what:—I'll love thee much,
Let me unseal the letter^{1 note}.

Stew.
Madam, I had rather—

Reg.
I know, your lady does not love her husband;
I am sure of that: and, at her late being here,
She gave strange œiliads^{2 note}

Stew.
I, madam?

Reg.
I speak in understanding: you are, I know it^{3 note}

If you do find him, pray you, give him this^{6 note};
And when your mistress hears thus much from you,
I pray, desire her call her wisdom to her.
So, fare you well.
If you do chance to hear of that blind traitor,
Preferment falls on him that cuts him off.

Stew.
'Would I could meet him, madam! I would show
What party^{7 note} I do follow.

Reg.
Fare thee well. [Exeunt. 8 ^note. SCENE VI The Country near Dover. Enter Gloster, and Edgar, dressed like a Peasant.

Glo.
When shall we come to the top of that same hill?

Edg.
You do climb up it now: look, how we labour.

Glo.
Methinks, the ground is even.

Edg.
Horrible steep:
Hark, do you hear the sea?

Glo.
No, truly^{9 note}

Edg.
Why, then your other senses grow imperfect
By your eyes' anguish.

Glo.
So may it be, indeed:
Methinks, thy voice is alter'd^{1 note}; and thou speak'st
In better phrase, and matter, than thou didst.

Edg.
You are much deceiv'd; in nothing am I chang'd,
But in my garments.

Glo.
Methinks, you are better spoken.

Edg.
Come on, sir; here's the place:—stand still.—How fearful
And dizzy 'tis, to cast one's eyes so low^{2 note}

Methinks, he seems no bigger than his head:
The fishermen, that walk upon the beach,
Appear like mice; and yon' tall anchoring bark,
Diminish'd to her cock^{4 note}

Glo.
Set me where you stand.

Edg.
Give me your hand: You are now within a foot
Of the extreme verge: for all beneath the moon
Would I not leap upright^{6 note}

Glo.
Let go my hand.
Here, friend, is another purse; in it, a jewel
Well worth a poor man's taking: Fairies, and gods,

Prosper it with thee! Go thou further off;
Bid me farewell, and let me hear thee going.

Edg.
Now fare you well, good sir. [Seems to go.

Glo.
With all my heart.

Edg.
Why I do trifle thus with his despair,
Is done to cure it^{7 note}

Glo.
O you mighty gods!
This world I do renounce; and, in your sights,
Shake patiently my great affliction off:
If I could bear it longer, and not fall
To quarrel with your great opposeless wills,
My snuff, and loathed part of nature, should
Burn itself out. If Edgar live, O, bless him!—
Now, fellow, fare thee well. [He leaps, and falls along.

Edg.
Gone, sir? farewell^{8 note}

Thus might he pass indeed^{1 note}

Glo.
Away, and let me die.

Edg.
Had'st thou been aught but gossomer, feathers, air^{2 note}

Which thou hast perpendicularly fell;
Thy life's a miracle: Speak yet again.

Glo.
But have I fallen, or no?

Edg.
From the dread summit of this chalky bourn^{4 note}

Glo.
Alack, I have no eyes.—
Is wretchedness depriv'd that benefit,
To end itself by death? 'Twas yet some comfort,
When misery could beguile the tyrant's rage,
And frustrate his proud will.

Edg.
Give me your arm:
Up:—So;—How is't? Feel you your legs? You stand.

Glo.
Too well, too well.

Edg.
This is above all strangeness.
Upon the crown o' the cliff, what thing was that
Which parted from you?

Glo.
A poor unfortunate beggar.

Edg.
As I stood here below, methought, his eyes
Were two full moons; he had a thousand noses,
Horns whelk'd^{5 note}

It was some fiend: Therefore, thou happy father,
Think that the clearest gods^{7 note}

Glo.
I do remember now: henceforth I'll bear
Affliction, till it do cry out itself,
Enough, enough, and, die. That thing you speak of,
I took it for a man; often 'twould say,
The fiend, the fiend: he led me to that place.

Edg.
Bear free and patient thoughts^{9 note}.—But who comes here? Enter Lear, fantastically dressed up with Flowers.
The safer sense will ne'er accommodate
His master thus^{1 note}

Lear.
No, they cannot touch me for coining^{2 note};
I am the king himself.

Edg.
O thou side-piercing sight!

Lear.

Nature's above art in that respect.— There's your press-money^{3 note}

Edg.

Sweet marjoram.

Lear.

Pass.

Glo.

I know that voice.

Lear.

Ha! Goneril!—with a white beard^{9 note}!— They flatter'd me like a dog^{1 note}; and told me, I had white hairs in my beard, ere the black ones were there^{2 note}. To say ay, and no, to every thing I said!— Ay and no too was no good divinity. When the rain came to wet me^{3 note} once, and the wind to make

me chatter; when the thunder would not peace at my bidding; there I found them, there I smelt them out. Go to, they are not men o' their words: they told me I was every thing; 'tis a lie; I am not ague-proof.

Glo.
The trick of that voice^{4 note}

Lear.
Ay, every inch a king:
When I do stare, see, how the subject quakes^{5 note}



.
I pardon that man's life: What was thy cause?—
Adultery.—
Thou shalt not die: Die for adultery! No:
The wren goes to't, and the small gilded fly
Does lecher in my sight.
Let copulation thrive, for Gloster's bastard son
Was kinder to his father, than my daughters
Got 'tween the lawful sheets.
To't, luxury^{6 note}, pell-mell, for I lack soldiers.—
Behold yon' simpering dame,
Whose face between her forks^{7 note}

That minces virtue^{8 note}

there is the sulphurous* ^note pit^{5 note}


, burning, scalding, stench, consumption;—Fye, fye, fye! pah; pah! Give me an ounce of civet, good apothecary, to sweeten my imagination: there's money for thee.

Glo.

O, let me kiss that hand!

Lear.

Let me wipe it first† ^note; it smells of mortality.

Glo.

O ruin'd piece of nature! This great world Shall so wear out to nought.—Dost thou know me?

Lear.

I remember thine eyes well enough. Dost thou squiny at me^{6 note}? No, do thy worst, blind Cupid; I'll not love.—Read thou this challenge; mark but the penning of it.

Glo.
Were all the letters suns, I could not see one.

Edg.
I would not take this from report;—it is,
And my heart breaks at it.

Lear.
Read.

Glo.
What, with the case of eyes^{7 note}

Lear.

O, ho, are you there with me? No eyes in your head, nor no money in your purse? Your eyes are in a heavy case, your purse in a light: Yet you see how this world goes.

Glo.

I see it feelingly.

Lear.

What, art mad? A man may see how this world goes, with no eyes. Look with thine ears: see how yon' justice rails upon yon' simple thief. Hark, in thine ear: Change places; and, handy-dandy^{8 note}, which is the justice, which is the thief?— Thou hast seen a farmer's dog bark at a beggar?

Glo.

Ay, sir.

Lear.

And the creature run from the cur?

There thou might'st behold the great image of authority: a dog's obeyed in office.—

Edg.
O, matter and impertinency mix'd!
Reason in madness!

Lear.
If thou wilt weep my fortunes, take my eyes.
I know thee well enough; thy name is Gloster:
Thou must be patient; we came crying hither.
Thou know'st, the first time that we smell the air,
We wawl, and cry^{3 note}

Glo.
Alack, alack the day!

Lear.
When we are born, we cry, that we are come
To this great stage of fools;—This a good block^{4 note}

It were a delicate stratagem, to shoe
A troop of horse with felt^{5 note}

Enter a Gentleman, with Attendants.

Gent.
O, here he is; lay hand upon him.—Sir,
Your most dear daughter—

Lear.
No rescue? What, a prisoner? I am even
The natural fool of fortune^{7 note}
.—Use me well;
You shall have ransome. Let me have a surgeon,
I am cut to the brains.

Gent.
You shall have any thing.

Lear.
No seconds? All myself?
Why, this would make a man, a man of salt^{8 note}

,
To use his eyes for garden water-pots,
Ay, and for laying autumn's dust^{9 note}

Gent.
Good sir^{1 note}
,—

Lear.
I will die bravely, like a bridegroom: What?
I will be jovial; come, come; I am a king,
My masters, know you that?

Gent.
You are a royal one, and we obey you.

Lear.

Then there's life in it^{2 note}

Gent.
A sight most pitiful in the meanest wretch;
Past speaking of in a king!—Thou hast one daughter,
Who redeems nature from the general curse
Which twain have brought her to.

Edg.
Hail, gentle sir.

Gent.
Sir, speed you: What's your will?

Edg.
Do you hear aught, sir, of a battle toward?

Gent.
Most sure, and vulgar: every one hears that,
Which can distinguish sound.

Edg.
But, by your favour,
How near's the other army?

Gent.
Near, and on speedy foot; the main descry
Stands on the hourly thought^{4 note}
.

Edg.
I thank you, sir: that's all.

Gent.
Though that the queen on special cause is here,
Her army is mov'd on.

Edg.
I thank you, sir. [Exit Gent.

Glo.
You ever-gentle gods, take my breath from me;
Let not my worser spirit^{5 note} tempt me again

To die before you please!

Edg.
Well pray you, father.

Glo.
Now, good sir, what are you?

Edg.
A most poor man, made lame by fortune's blows^{5 note}

Glo.
Hearty thanks:
The bounty and the benizon of heaven
To boot, and boot! Enter Steward.

Stew.
A proclaim'd prize! Most happy!
That eyeless head of thine was first fram'd flesh
To raise my fortunes.—Thou old unhappy traitor,
Briefly thyself remember^{7 note}

Glo.
Now let thy friendly hand
Put strength enough to it. [Edgar opposes.

Stew.
Wherefore, bold peasant,
Dar'st thou support a publish'd traitor? Hence;
Lest that the infection of his fortune take
Like hold on thee. Let go his arm.

Edg.

Chill not let go, zir, without vurther 'casion.

Stew.

Let go, slave, or thou diest.

Edg.

Good gentleman, go your gait^{8 note}, and let poor volk pass. And ch'ud ha' been zwagger'd out of my life, 'twould not ha' been zo long as 'tis by a vortnight. Nay, come not near the old man; keep out, che vor'ye^{9 note}

Stew.

Out, dunghill!

Edg.

Ch'ill pick your teeth, zir: Come; no matter vor your foins^{3 note}.

Stew.
Slave, thou hast slain me:—Villain, take my purse;
If ever thou wilt thrive, bury my body;
And give the letters, which thou find'st about me,
To Edmund earl of Gloster^{4 note}; seek him out
Upon the British party:—O, untimely death! [Dies.

Edg.
I know thee well: A serviceable villain;
As duteous to the vices of thy mistress,
As badness would desire.

Glo.
What, is he dead?

Edg.
Sit you down, father; rest you.—
Let's see his pockets: these letters, that he speaks of,
May be my friends.—He's dead; I am only sorry
He had no other death's-man^{5 note}

.—Let us see:—
Leave, gentle wax; and, manners, blame us not:
To know our enemies' minds, we'd rip their hearts;
Their papers, is more lawful^{6 note}

Let our reciprocal vows be remembered. You have many opportunities to cut him off: if your will want not, time and place will be fruitfully offered. There is nothing done, if he return the conqueror: Then am I the prisoner, and his bed my gaol; from the loathed warmth whereof deliver me, and supply the place for your labour.

Your wife, (so I would say,) and your affectionate servant^{7 note}

Goneril.

O undistinguish'd space of woman's will^{7 note}

Glo.
The king is mad: How stiff is my vile sense,
That I stand up, and have ingenious feeling^{1 note}
Of my huge sorrows! Better I were distract:
So should my thoughts be sever'd^{2 note} from my griefs;
And woes, by wrong imaginations, lose
The knowledge of themselves.

Re-enter Edgar.

Edg.
Give me your hand:
Far off, methinks, I hear the beaten drum.
Come, father, I'll bestow you with a friend. [Exeunt. SCENE VII. A Tent in the French Camp. Lear on a Bed, asleep; Physician, Gentleman^{3 note}

, and Others, attending: Enter Cordelia and Kent.

Cor.
O thou good Kent, how shall I live, and work,
To match thy goodness? My life will be too short,
And every measure fail me^{4 note}.

Kent.
To be acknowledg'd, madam, is o'er-paid.
All my reports go with the modest truth;
Nor more, nor clipp'd, but so.

Cor.
Be better suited^{5 note}:

These weeds are memories of those worser hours^{6 note}

Kent.
Pardon me, dear madam;
Yet to be known, shortens my made intent^{7 note}

Cor.
Then be it so, my good lord.—How does the king? [To the Physician.

Phys.
Madam, sleeps still.

Cor.
O you kind gods,
Cure this great breach in his abused nature!
The untun'd and jarring* ^note senses, O, wind up
Of this child-changed father^{8 note}

Phys.
So please your majesty,
That we may wake the king? he hath slept long.

Cor.
Be govern'd by your knowledge, and proceed
I' the sway of your own will. Is he array'd?

Gent.
Ay, madam^{9 note}

Phys.
Be by, good madam, when we do awake him;
I doubt not of his temperance.

Cor.
Very well^{1 note}.

Phys.
Please you, draw near.—Louder the musick there^{2 note}

Cor.
O my dear father! Restoration, hang
Thy medicine on my lips^{3 note}

Kent.
Kind and dear princess!

Cor.
Had you not been their father, these white flakes
Had challeng'd pity of them. Was this a face
To be expos'd* ^note against the warring winds?
[To stand^{4 note} against the deep dread-bolted thunder?
In the most terrible and nimble stroke
Of quick, cross lightning? to watch (poor perdu!)
With this thin helm^{5 note}

Though he had bit me, should have stood that night

Against my fire; And wast thou fain, poor father,
To hovel thee with swine, and rogues forlorn,
In short and musty straw? Alack, alack!
'Tis wonder, that thy life and wits at once
Had not concluded all^{7 note}

Phys.
Madam, do you; 'tis fittest.

Cor.
How does my royal lord? How fares your majesty?

Lear.
You do me wrong, to take me out o' the grave:—
Thou art a soul in bliss; but I am bound
Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears
Do scald like molten lead.

Cor.
Sir, do you know me?

Lear.
You are a spirit, I know; When did you die?

Cor.
Still, still, far wide!

Phys.
He's scarce awake; let him alone awhile.

Lear.
Where have I been? Where am I?—Fair day-light?—
I am mightily abus'd^{8 note}.—I should even die with pity,
To see another thus.—I know not what to say.—
I will not swear, these are my hands:—let's see;
I feel this pin prick. 'Would I were assur'd
Of my condition.

Cor.
O, look upon me, sir,

And hold your hands in benediction o'er me:—
No, sir, you must not kneel^{9 note}

Lear.
Pray, do not mock me^{1 note}

:
I am a very foolish fond old man,
Fourscore and upward^{2 note}

Cor.
And so I am, I am.

Lear.
Be your tears wet? Yes, 'faith. I pray, weep not:
If you have poison for me, I will drink it.
I know, you do not love me; for your sisters
Have, as I do remember, done me wrong:
You have some cause, they have not.

Cor.
No cause, no cause.

Lear.
Am I in France?

Kent.
In your own kingdom, sir.

Lear.
Do not abuse me.

Phys.
Be comforted, good madam: the great rage,
You see, is cur'd^{4 note}
in him: [and yet^{5 note}

Cor.
Will't please your highness walk?

Lear.
You must bear with me:
Pray now forget and forgive: I am old, and foolish. [Exeunt Lear, Cordelia, Physician, and Attendants.

[Gent.
Holds it true, sir^{7 note}

Kent.
Most certain, sir.

Gent.
Who is conductor of his people?

Kent.
As 'tis said,
The bastard son of Gloster.

Gent.
They say, Edgar,
His banish'd son, is with the earl of Kent
In Germany.

Kent.
Report is changeable.
'Tis time to look about; the powers o' the kingdom
Approach apace.

Gent.
The arbitrement is like to be a bloody.
Fare you well, sir. [Exit.

Kent.
My point and period will be throughly wrought,
Or well, or ill, as this day's battle's fought.] [Exit.

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