Glost.
When shall we come to th' Top of that same Hill?

Edg.
We climb it now, mark how we Labour.

Glost.
Methinks the Ground is even.

Edg.
Horrible Steep; heark, do you hear the Sea?

Glost.
No truly.

Edg.
Why then your other Senses grow imperfect,
By your Eyes Anguish.

Glost.
So may it be indeed.
Methinks thy Voice is alter'd, and thou speak'st
In better Phrase and Matter than thou did'st.

Edg.
You are much deceiv'd, in nothing am I Alter'd
But in my Garments.

Glost.
Methinks y'are better Spoken.

Edg.
Come on, Sir, here's the Place, how fearfull

And dizy 'tis to cast one's Eyes so Low.
The Crows and Choughs that wing the Mid-way Air
Shew scarce so big as Beetles, half way down
Hangs one that gathers Sampire, dreadfull Trade!
The Fisher-men that walk upon the Beach
Appear like Mice, and yon tall Anch'ring Barque
Seems lessen'd to her Cock, her Cock a Buoy
Almost too small for Sight; the murmuring Surge
Cannot be heard so high, I'll look no more
Lest my Brain turn, and the disorder make me
Tumble down head long.

Glost.
Set me where you stand.

Edg.
You are now within a Foot of th'extream Verge.
For all beneath the Moon I wou'd not now
Leap forward.

Glost.
Let go my Hand,
Here, Friend, is another Purse, in it a Jewel
Well worth a poor Man's taking; get thee further,
Bid me Farewell, and let me hear thee going.

Edg.
Fare you well, Sir,—that I do Trifle thus
With this his Despair is with Design to cure it.

Glost.
Thus, mighty Gods, this World I do renounce,
And in your Sight shake my Afflictions off;
If I cou'd bear'em longer and not fall
To quarrel with your great opposeless Wills,
My Snuff and feebler Part of Nature shou'd
Burn it self out; if Edgar Live, O Bless him.
Now, Fellow, fare thee well.

Edg.
Gone, Sir! Farewell.
And yet I know not how Conceit may rob
The Treasury of Life, had he been where he thought,
By this had Thought been past—Alive, or Dead?
Hoa Sir, Friend; hear you, Sir, speak—
Thus might he pass indeed—yet he revives.
What are you, Sir?

Glost.
Away, and let me Die.

Edg.
Hadst thou been ought but Gosmore, Feathers, Air,
Falling so many Fathom down
Thou hadst Shiver'd like an Egg; but thou dost breath
Hast heavy Substance, bleedst not, speak'st, art sound;

Thy Live's a Miracle.

Glost.
But have I faln or no?

Edg.
From the dread Summet of this chalky Bourn:
Look up an Height, the Shrill-tun'd Lark so high
Cannot be seen, or heard; do but look up.

Glost.
Alack, I have no Eyes.
Is wretchedness depriv'd that Benefit
To End it self by Death?

Edg.
Give me your Arm.
Up, so, how is't? feel you your Legs? you stand.

Glost.
Too well, too well.

Edg.
Upon the Crow o'th' Cliff, what Thing was that
Which parted from you?

Glost.
A poor unfortunate Begger.

Edg.
As I stood here below, me-thought his Eyes
Were two Full Moons, wide Nostrils breathing Fire.
It was some Fiend, therefore thou happy Father,
Think that th'all-powerfull Gods who make them Honours
Of Mens Impossibilities have preserv'd thee.

Glost.
'Tis wonderfull; henceforth I'll bear Affliction
Till it expire; the Goblin which you speak of,
I took it for a Man: oft-times 'twould say,
The Fiend, the Fiend: He led me to that Place.

Edg.
Bear free and patient Thoughts: but who comes here? Enter Lear, a Coronet of Flowers on his Head. Wreaths and Garlands about him.

Lear.
No, no, they cannot touch me for Coyning, I am the King Himself.

Edg.

O piercing Sight.

Lear.

Nature's above Art in that Respect; There's your Press-money: that Fellow handles his Bow like a Cow-keeper, —draw me a Clothier's yard. A Mouse, a Mouse; peace hoa: there's my Gauntlet, I'll prove it on a Giant: bring up the brown Bills: O well flown Bird; i' th' White, i' th' White— Hewgh! give the Word.

Edg.

Sweet Marjorum.

Lear.

Pass.

Glost.

I know that Voice.

Lear.

Ha! Gonerill with a white Beard! they flatter'd me like a Dog, and told me I had white Hairs on my Chin, before the Black ones were there; to say I and No to every thing that I said, I and No too was no good Divinity. When the Rain came once to wet me, and the Winds to make me Chatter; when the Thunder wou'd not Peace at my Bidding. There I found 'em, there I smelt 'em out; go too, they are not men of their words, They told me I was a King, 'tis a Lie, I am not Argue proof.

Glost.
That Voice I well remember, is't not the King's?

Lear.
I, every Inch a King, when I do Stare
See how the Subject quakes.
I pardon that Man's Life, what was the Cause?
Adultery? Thou shalt not Die. Die for Adultery!
The Wren goes to't, and the small gilded Flie
Engenders in my Sight: Let Copulation thrive,
For Gloster's Bastard Son was kinder to his Father
Than were my Daughters got i'th' lawfull Bed.
To't Luxury, pell mell, for I lack Souldiers.

Glost.
Not all my Sorrows past so deep have toucht me,
As the sad Accents: Sight were now a Torment—

Lear.
Behold that simp'ring Lady, she that starts
At Pleasure's Name, and thinks her Ear profan'd
With the least wanton Word, wou'd you believe it,
The Fitcher nor the pamper'd Steed goes to't

With such a riotous Appetite: down from the Wast they are Centaurs, tho Women all Above; but to the Girdle do the Gods inherit, beneath is all the Fiends; There's Hell, there's Darkness, the Sulphurous unfathom'd—Fie! fie! pah!—an Ounce of Civet, good Apothecary, to sweeten my Imagination— There's Money for thee.

Glost.

Let me kiss that Hand.

Lear.

Let me wipe it first; it smells of Mortality.

Glost.

Speak, Sir; do you know me?

Lear.

I remember thy Eyes well enough: Nay, do thy worst, blind Cupid, I'll not Love—read me this Challenge, mark but the penning of it.

Glost.
Were all the Letters Suns I cou'd not see.

Edg.
I wou'd not take this from Report: wretched Cordelia,
What will thy Vertue do when thou shalt find
This fresh Affliction added to the Tale

Of thy unparrallel'd Griefs.

Lear.

Read.

Glost.

What with this Case of eyes?

Lear.

O ho! are you there with me? no Eyes in your Head, and no money in your Purse? yet you see how this World goes.

Glost.

I see it Feelingly.

Lear.

What? art Mad? a Man may see how this World goes with no Eyes. Look with thy Ears, see how yon Justice rails on that simple Thief; shake'em together, and the first that drops, be it Thief or Justice, is a Villain.—Thou hast seen a Farmer's Dog bark at a Beggar.

Glost.

I, Sir.

Lear.

And the Man ran from the Curr; there thou mightst behold the great Image of Authority, a Dog's obey'd in Office. Thou Rascal, Beadle, hold thy bloody Hand, why dost thou Lash that Strumpet? thou hotly Lust'st to enjoy her in that kind for which thou whipst her, do, do, the Judge that sentenc'd her has been before-hand with thee.

Glost.

How stiff is my vile Sense that yields not yet?

Lear.

I tell thee the Usurer hangs the Couz'ner, through tatter'd Robes small Vices do appear, Robes and Fur-gowns hide All: Place Sins with Gold, why there 'tis for thee, my Friend, make much of it, it has the Pow'r to seal the Accuser's Lips. Get thee glass Eyes, and like a scurvy Politician, seem to see the Things thou dost not. Pull, pull off my Boots, hard, harder, so, so.

Glost.
O Matter and Impertinency mixt
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 knowst, the first time that We tast the Air
We Wail and Cry—I'll preach to thee, Mark.

Edg.
Break lab'ring Heart.

Lear.
When we are Born we Cry that we are come
To this great Stage of Fools.— Enter Two or Three Gentlemen.

Gent.
O here he is, lay hand upon him, Sir,

Your dearest Daughter sends—

Lear.

No Rescue? what, a Prisoner? I am even the natural Fool of Fortune: Use me well, you shall have Ransome—let me have Surgeons, Oh I am cut to th' Brains.

Gent.

You shall have any Thing.

Lear.

No Second's? all my Self? I will Die bravely like a smug Bridegroom, flusht and pamper'd as a Priest's Whore. I am a King, my Masters, know ye that?

Gent.

You are a Royal one, and we Obey you.

Lear.

It were an excellent Stratagem to Shoe a Troop of Horse with Felt, I'll put in proof—no Noise, no Noise—now will we steal upon these Sons in Law, and then—Kill, kill, kill, kill!

Glost.
A Sight most moving in the meanest Wretch,
Past speaking in a King. Now, good Sir, what are you?

Edg.
A most poor Man made tame to Fortune's strokes,

And prone to Pity by experienc'd Sorrows; give me your Hand.

Glost.
You ever gentle Gods take my Breath from me,
And let not my ill Genius tempt me more
To Die before you please. Enter Gonerill's Gentleman Usher.

Gent.
A proclaim'd Prize, O most happily met,
That Eye-less Head of thine was first fram'd Flesh
To raise my Fortunes; Thou old unhappy Traytor,
The Sword is out that must Destroy thee.

Glost.
Now let thy friendly Hand put Strength enough to't.

Gent.
Wherefore, bold Peasant,
Darst thou support a publisht Traytor, hence,
Lest I destroy Thee too. Let go his Arm.

Edg.
'Chill not Let go Zir, without 'vurther 'Casion.

Gent.

Let go Slave, or thou Dyest.

Edg.

Good Gentleman go your Gate, and let poor Volk pass, and 'Chu'd ha' bin Zwagger'd out of my Life it wou'd not a bin zo long as 'tis by a Vort-night—Nay, an' thou com'st near th' old Man, I'ce try whether your Costard or my Ballow be th' harder.

Gent.

Out, Dunghill.

Edg.

'Chill pick your Teeth, Zir; Come, no matter vor your Voines.

Gent.
Slave, thou hast Slain me; oh untimely Death.

Edg.
I know thee well, a serviceable Villain,
As duteous to the Vices of thy Mistress
As Lust cou'd wish.

Glost.
What, is he Dead?

Edg.
Sit you, Sir, and rest you.
This is a Letter Carrier, and may have
Some Papers of Intelligence that may stand
Our Party in good stead, to know—what's here? [Takes a Letter out of his Pocket, opens, and reads.

To Edmund Earl of Gloster.

Let our Mutual Loves be remembred, you have many opportunities to Cut him off, if he return the Conqueror then I am still a Prisoner, and his Bed my Goal, from the loath'd Warmth of which deliver me, and supply the Place for your Labour.

Gonerill.