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. Use me well,
You shall have ransome. Let me have surgeons,
I am cut to th' brains.

Gent.
You shall have any thing.

Lear.
No seconds? all myself?
Why, this would make a man, ^{3 note}a man of salt;
To use his eyes for garden-water-pots,
And laying autumn's dust. I will die bravely,
Like a smug 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.
* ^noteThen there's life in't. Come, an' you get it,
You shall get it by running. Sa, sa, sa, sa. [Exit.

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. † ^note
The main descry
Stands on the hourly thought.

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 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 tame to fortune's blows,
^{4 note}
Who, by the art of known and feeling sorrows,
Am pregnant to good pity. Give me your hand,
I'll lead you to some biding.

Glo.
Hearty thanks;
The bounty and the benizon of heav'n
To boot, and boot!—

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