Edg.
Yet ^note better thus, and known ^note to be contemn'd,
Than still contemn'd and flatter'd. To be worst, ^note
The lowest and ^note most dejected ^note thing of fortune,
Stands still in esperance ^note, lives not in fear:
The lamentable change is from the best;
The worst returns to laughter. ^note Welcome then,
Thou unsubstantial air that I embrace!

The wretch that thou hast blown unto the worst
Owes nothing to thy ^note blasts. ^note But who comes here? ^note Enter Gloucester, led by an Old Man. ^note
My father, poorly led? ^note World, world, O world! ^note
But that thy strange mutations make us hate ^note thee,
Life would not ^note yield to age.

Old Man.

O, my ^note good lord, I have been your tenant, and your father's tenant, these fourscore years. ^note

Glou.
Away, get thee away; good friend, be gone:
Thy comforts can do me no good at all;
Thee they may hurt.

Old Man.
Alack, sir, ^note you cannot see your way.

Glou.
I have no way and therefore want no eyes;
I stumbled when I saw: full oft 'tis seen,
Our means secure ^note us, and our mere defects
Prove our commodities. Ah ^note, dear son Edgar,
The food of thy abused father's wrath!
Might I but live to see thee in my touch,

I'ld say I had eyes again!

Old Man.
How now! Who's ^note there?

Edg. [Aside] ^note
O gods! Who is't can say ‘I am at the ^note worst’?
I am ^note worse than e'er ^note I was.

Old Man.
'Tis poor mad Tom.

Edg. [Aside] ^note
And worse I may be yet: the worst is not
So long ^note as we can say ‘This is the worst.’

Old Man.
Fellow, where goest?

Glou.
Is it a beggar-man?

Old Man.
Madman and beggar too.

Glou.
He ^note has some reason, else he could not beg.
I' the ^note last night's storm I such a fellow saw,
Which made me think a man a worm: my son
Came then into my mind, and yet my mind
Was then scarce friends with him: I have ^note heard more since. ^note
As flies to wanton ^note boys, are we to the gods;
They kill ^note us for their sport.

Edg. [Aside] ^note
How should this ^note be?
Bad is the trade that must play fool to ^note sorrow,
Angering itself ^note and others. Bless thee, master! ^note

Glou.
Is that the naked fellow?

Old Man.
Ay, my lord.

Glou.
Then, prithee, get thee gone ^note: if for my sake

Thou wilt o'ertake us hence ^note a mile or twain
I' the way toward ^note Dover, do it for ancient love;
And bring some covering for this ^note naked soul,
Who ^note I'll entreat to lead me.

Old Man.
Alack, sir, he is mad.

Glou.
'Tis the times' ^note plague, when madmen lead the blind. ^note
Do as I bid thee ^note, or rather do thy pleasure;
Above the rest, be gone.

Old Man.
I'll bring him the best 'parel ^note that I have,
Come on't what will. [Exit. ^note

Glou.
Sirrah, ^note naked fellow,— ^note

Edg.
Poor Tom's a-cold. [Aside] ^note I cannot daub it ^note further ^note.

Glou.
Come hither, fellow.

Edg. [Aside] ^note
And yet I must. ^note Bless thy sweet eyes, they bleed. ^note

Glou.
Know'st thou the way to Dover?

Edg.

Both stile and gate, horse-way and foot-path. Poor Tom hath been scared ^note out of his good wits. Bless thee, good man's son, ^note from the foul fiend! ^note Five fiends have been in poor Tom at once ^note; of lust, as Obidicut; ^note Hobbididence ^note, prince of

dumbness ^note; Mahu, of stealing; Modo ^note, of murder; Flibbertigibbet ^note, of mopping and mowing; ^note who since possesses chambermaids and waiting-women. So, bless thee, master! ^{note note}

Glou.
Here, take this purse, thou whom the heavens' ^note plagues ^note
Have humbled to all strokes: that I am wretched
Makes thee ^note the happier. Heavens, deal so still!
Let the superfluous and ^note lust-dieted ^note man,
That slaves ^note your ordinance, that will not see
Because he doth ^note not feel, feel your power quickly;
So distribution should undo ^note excess
And each man have enough. Dost thou know Dover?

Edg.
Ay, master.

Glou.
There is a cliff whose high and bending head
Looks fearfully ^note in ^note the confined deep:
Bring me but to the very brim of it,
And I'll repair the misery thou dost bear
With something rich about me: from that place
I shall ^note no leading ^note need. ^note

Edg.
Give me thy arm:
Poor Tom shall lead thee. ^note [Exeunt. ^note

Scene II. Before ^note the Duke of Albany's palace. Enter ^note Goneril and Edmund.

Gon.
Welcome, my lord: I marvel our mild husband
Not met us on the way. Enter Oswald ^note.
Now, where's your master?

Osw.
Madam, within; but never man so changed.
I told him of the army that was landed;
He smiled at it: I told him you were coming;
His answer was, ‘The worse:’ of Gloucester's treachery
And of the loyal service of his son
When I inform'd him, then he call'd me sot
And told me I had turn'd the wrong side out:
What most he should dislike ^note seems pleasant to him;
What like, offensive. ^note

Gon. [To Edm.] ^note
Then shall you ^note go no further.
It is the cowish terror ^note of his spirit,
That dares not undertake: he'll not feel wrongs,
Which tie him to an answer. Our wishes on the way
May prove effects. Back, Edmund ^note, to ^note my brother;

Hasten his musters and conduct his powers:
I must change arms ^note at home and give the distaff
Into my husband's hands. This trusty servant
Shall pass between us: ere long you are like to hear ^note,
If you dare venture ^note in your own behalf,
A mistress's command ^note. Wear this; spare ^note speech; [Giving a favour. ^note
Decline your head: this kiss, if it durst speak,
Would stretch thy spirits up into the air:
Conceive, and fare thee well ^note.

Edm.
Yours in the ranks of death.

Gon.
My most dear Gloucester! [Exit Edmund. ^note
O, ^note the difference ^note of man and man! ^{note note}
To thee a ^note woman's services are due:
My fool usurps my body. ^{note note}

Osw.
Madam, here comes my lord. [Exit. ^note Enter Albany. ^note

Gon.
I have been worth the whistle ^note.

Alb.
O Goneril!
You are not worth the dust which the rude ^note wind ^note
Blows in your face. I fear your disposition:
That nature which contemns its ^note origin
Cannot be border'd ^note certain in itself;
She that herself will sliver ^note and disbranch
From her material ^note sap, perforce must wither
And come to deadly use.

Gon.
No more; the text is ^note foolish.

Alb.
Wisdom and goodness to the vile seem vile:
Filths savour but themselves. What have you done? ^note
Tigers, not daughters, what have you perform'd?
A father, and a gracious aged man,
Whose reverence even ^note the head-lugg'd bear ^note would lick, ^note
Most barbarous, most degenerate! have you madded.
Could my good brother suffer you to do it? ^note
A man, a prince, by him so benefited ^note!
If that the heavens do not their visible spirits
Send quickly down to tame these vile ^note offences,
It will come, ^{note note}
Humanity ^note must perforce prey on itself,

Like monsters of the deep. ^{note note}

Gon.
Milk-liver'd man!
That bear'st ^note a cheek for blows, a head for wrongs;
Who hast not ^note in thy brows an eye discerning ^note
Thine honour ^note from thy suffering; that not know'st
Fools do ^note those ^note villains pity who are punish'd
Ere they have done their mischief. Where's thy drum?
France spreads his banners in our noiseless ^note land,
With plumed ^note helm thy state begins to threat ^note,
Whiles ^note thou, a moral ^note fool, sit'st still and criest ^note
‘Alack, why does he so? ^note’

Alb.
See thyself, devil!
Proper deformity ^note seems ^note not in the fiend
So horrid as in woman. ^note

Gon.
O vain fool!

Alb.
Thou changed ^note and self-cover'd ^note thing, for shame,
Be-monster not thy feature. Were 't ^note my fitness

To ^note let these hands ^note obey my blood ^note,
They are ^note apt enough to dislocate ^note and tear ^note
Thy flesh and bones: howe'er ^note thou art a fiend,
A woman's shape doth shield thee.

Gon.
Marry, your manhood mew. ^{note note} Enter a Messenger. ^note

Alb.
What news? ^note

Mess. ^note
O, my good lord, the Duke of Cornwall's dead,
Slain by his servant, going to put out
The other eye of Gloucester. ^note

Alb.
Gloucester's eyes!

Mess.
A servant that he bred, thrill'd ^note with remorse,
Opposed against the act, bending his sword
To ^note his great master; who thereat enraged ^note
Flew on him and amongst them fell'd him ^note dead,
But not ^note without that harmful stroke which since
Hath pluck'd him after. ^note

Alb.
This shows you are above,
You justicers ^note, that these our nether ^note crimes

So speedily can venge. But, O poor Gloucester!
Lost he his other eye? ^note

Mess.
Both, both, my lord.
This letter, madam, craves a speedy answer;
'Tis from your sister. ^note

Gon. [Aside] ^note
One way I like this well;
But being ^note widow, and my Gloucester with her,
May all the building in ^note my fancy pluck
Upon my hateful life: another way,
The news is not so tart. ^note I'll read, and answer. [Exit. ^note

Alb.
Where was his son when they did take his eyes? ^note

Mess.
Come with my lady hither.

Alb.
He is ^note not here.

Mess.
No, my good lord; I met him back again.

Alb.
Knows he the wickedness?

Mess.
Ay, my good lord; 'twas he inform'd against him,
And quit the house on purpose ^note, that their ^note punishment
Might have the freer course.

Alb.
Gloucester, I live
To thank thee for the love thou show'dst ^note the king,
And to revenge thine ^note eyes. ^note Come hither, friend:
Tell me what more thou know'st ^note. ^note [Exeunt. ^note

^note Scene III. [Footnote: The French ^note camp near Dover. Enter Kent and a Gentleman.

Kent.

Why the King of France is so suddenly gone back ^note know you the ^note reason? ^note

Gent.

Something he left imperfect in the state which since his coming forth is thought of, which imports to ^note the kingdom so much fear and danger that his personal ^note return was most required and necessary. ^note

Kent.

Who ^note hath he left behind him general?

Gent.

The Marshal ^note of France, Monsieur La Far ^note.

Kent.

Did your letters pierce the queen to any demonstration of grief? ^note

Gent.
Ay, sir; ^note she took them, read them ^note in my presence,
And now and then an ample tear trill'd down
Her delicate cheek: it seem'd she was a queen
Over ^note her passion, who ^note most rebel-like
Sought to be king o'er her. ^note

Kent.
O, then it moved her.

Gent.
Not to a rage ^note: patience and sorrow strove ^note
Who ^note should express her goodliest. You have seen
Sunshine and rain at once: her smiles and tears
Were like ^note a better way: ^{note note} those happy ^note smilets ^note
That play'd on her ripe lip seem'd ^note not to know
What guests were in her eyes; which parted thence
As pearls from diamonds dropp'd ^note. In brief,
Sorrow would be a rarity most beloved,
If all could so become it. ^note

Kent.
Made she no verbal question ^note?

Gent.
Faith, ^note once or twice she heaved the name of ‘father’
Pantingly forth, as if it press'd her heart;
Cried ‘Sisters! sisters! Shame of ladies! sisters! ^note
Kent! father! sisters! ^note What ^note, i' the storm? i' the night ^note?
Let pity not be believed ^note!’ There ^note she shook
The holy water from her heavenly eyes,
And clamour moisten'd: ^note then away she started ^note

To deal with grief alone.

Kent.
It is the stars, ^note
The stars above us, govern our conditions; ^note
Else one self mate ^note and mate ^note could not beget
Such different issues. You spoke not ^note with her since? ^note

Gent.
No.

Kent.
Was this before the king return'd?

Gent.
No, since.

Kent.
Well, sir, ^note the poor distressed Lear's i' the ^note town;
Who sometime ^note in his better tune ^note remembers
What we are come about, and by no means
Will yield to see his daughter ^note.

Gent.
Why, good sir?

Kent.
A sovereign shame so elbows him: his own ^note unkindness
That stripp'd her from his ^note benediction, turn'd her
To foreign casualties, gave her dear rights
To his dog-hearted daughters: these things sting
His mind ^note so venomously that burning shame
Detains him from ^note Cordelia. ^note

Gent.
Alack, poor gentleman!

Kent.
Of Albany's and Cornwall's powers you heard not? ^note

Gent.
'Tis so; ^note they are afoot ^note.

Kent.
Well, sir, I'll bring you to our master Lear,
And leave you to attend him: some dear cause
Will in concealment wrap me up awhile;
When I am known aright, you shall not grieve
Lending me this acquaintance. I pray you, go
Along ^note with me. ^note [Exeunt. ^{note note} Scene IV. [Footnote: The same. A tent. ^note Enter ^note, with drum and colours, Cordelia, Doctor, and Soldiers.

Cor.
Alack, 'tis he: why, he was met even now
As mad as ^note the vex'd ^note sea; singing aloud;
Crown'd with rank fumiter ^note and furrow-weeds ^note,
With bur-docks ^note, hemlock, nettles ^note, cuckoo-flowers,
Darnel, and all the idle weeds that grow
In our sustaining corn ^note. A century ^note send ^note forth ^note;
Search every acre in the high-grown field,

And bring him to our eye ^note. [Exit ^note an Officer.] What can man's ^note wisdom
In ^note the restoring his ^note bereaved sense? ^note
He that helps ^note him take all my outward worth ^note.

Doct. ^note
There is ^note means, madam:
Our foster-nurse of nature is repose,
The which he lacks: that ^note to provoke in him,
Are many simples operative, whose power
Will close the eye of anguish.

Cor.
All blest secrets,
All you unpublish'd virtues of the earth, ^note
Spring with my tears! be aidant and remediate ^note
In the good man's distress ^note! Seek, seek for him;
Lest his ungovern'd rage dissolve the life
That wants the means to lead it. Enter a Messenger. ^note

Mess.
News, madam;
The British powers are marching hitherward. ^note

Cor.
'Tis known before; our preparation stands
In expectation of them. O dear father,
It is thy business that I go about;
Therefore great France ^note
My mourning and ^note important ^note tears hath pitied.

No blown ambition doth our arms incite ^note,
But love, dear love, and our aged ^note father's right ^note:
Soon may I hear and see him! ^note [Exeunt. ^{note note} Scene V. [Footnote: Gloucester's castle. ^note Enter Regan and Oswald. ^note

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

Osw.
Ay, madam.

Reg.
Himself ^note in person there ^note?

Osw.
Madam, ^note with much ado:
Your sister is ^note the better soldier. ^note

Reg.
Lord Edmund spake not with your lord ^note at home?

Osw.
No, madam.

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

Osw.
I know not, lady.

Reg.
Faith, he is posted hence on serious ^note matter.
It was great ignorance, Gloucester's eyes being out,
To let him live: where he arrives he moves
All hearts against us: Edmund ^note, I think, is gone,
In pity of his misery, to dispatch

His nighted life; moreover, to descry
The strength o' the enemy ^note. ^note

Osw.
I must needs after him, madam ^note, with my letter ^note.

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

Osw.
I may not, madam:
My lady charged my duty in this business. ^note

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

Osw.
Madam, I had ^note rather—

Reg.
I know your lady does not love her husband;
I am ^note sure of that: and at her late being here
She gave strange ^note œillades ^note and most speaking looks
To noble Edmund. I know you are ^note of her bosom.

Osw.
I, madam? ^note

Reg.
I speak in understanding: you are; I know't ^note:
Therefore I do advise you, take this note: ^note
My lord is dead; Edmund and I have talk'd;
And more convenient is he for my hand
Than for your lady's ^note: you may gather more.
If you do find ^note him, pray you, give him this;

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

Osw.
Would I could meet him ^note, madam! I should ^note show
What party ^note I do follow.

Reg.
Fare thee well. [Exeunt. ^{note note} Scene VI. [Footnote: Fields ^note near Dover. Enter ^note Gloucester, and Edgar dressed like a peasant.

Glou.
When shall we ^note come to the top of that same hill?

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

Glou.
Methinks the ground is even.

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

Glou.
No, truly. ^note

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

Glou.
So may it be indeed:
Methinks thy voice is alter'd ^note, and thou speak'st ^note

In ^note better phrase and matter than thou didst.

Edg.
You're ^note much deceived: in nothing am I changed
But in my garments.

Glou.
Methinks ^note you're ^note better spoken.

Edg.
Come on, sir; here's the place: stand still. How fearful ^note
And dizzy ^note 'tis to cast one's eyes so low!
The crows and choughs that wing the midway air
Show scarce so gross as beetles: half way down
Hangs one that ^note gathers samphire ^note, dreadful trade!
Methinks he seems no bigger than his head:
The fishermen that walk ^note upon the beach ^note
Appear like mice; and yond ^note tall anchoring bark
Diminish'd to her cock; her cock, a buoy ^note
Almost too small for sight: the murmuring surge
That on the unnumber'd idle pebbles chafes ^note
Cannot be heard so high. I'll ^note look no more,
Lest my brain turn and the deficient sight
Topple down headlong.

Glou.
Set me where you stand.

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

Glou.
Let go my hand.

Here, friend, 's another purse; in it a jewel
Well worth a poor man's taking: fairies ^note and gods
Prosper it with thee! Go thou farther ^note off;
Bid me farewell, and let me hear thee going.

Edg. ^note
Now fare you ^note well, good sir.

Glou.
With all my heart.

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

Glou. [Kneeling] ^note
O you might 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 ^note and loathed part of nature should
Burn itself out. If Edgar live, O bless him ^note!
Now, fellow, fare thee well. [He ^note falls forward.

Edg.
Gone, sir: ^note farewell.
And yet I know not how conceit may ^note rob
The treasury ^note of life, when life itself
Yields to the theft: had he been where he thought,
By this had thought ^note been past. ^note Alive or dead?
Ho, you sir! friend ^note! Hear ^note you, sir! speak ^note! ^note

Thus might he pass indeed: yet he revives. ^note
What are you, sir? ^note

Glou.
Away, and let me die.

Edg.
Hadst thou been aught but gossamer ^note, feathers, ^note air, ^note
So many fathom down precipitating,
Thou'dst ^note shiver'd like an egg: but thou dost breathe;
Hast heavy substance; bleed'st not; ^note speak'st ^note; art sound. ^note
Ten masts at each ^note make not the altitude
Which thou hast perpendicularly fell ^note:
Thy life's a miracle. Speak yet again.

Glou.
But have I fall'n, or no? ^note

Edg.
From the dread summit ^note of this chalky bourn. ^note
Look up a-height ^note; the shrill-gorged ^note lark so far
Cannot be seen or heard: do but look up. ^note

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

Edg.
Give me your arm: ^note
Up: so. How is't? Feel ^note you your legs? You stand.

Glou.
Too well, too well.

Edg.
This is above all strangeness.

Upon the crown o' the ^note cliff, what ^note thing was that
Which parted from you?

Glou.
A poor unfortunate ^note beggar ^note.

Edg.
As I stood here below, methought ^note his eyes
Were two full moons; he had ^note a thousand noses,
Horns whelk'd ^note and waved like the enridged ^note sea:
It was some fiend; therefore, thou happy father,
Think that the clearest ^note gods, who make them ^note honours
Of men's impossibilities, have preserved thee.

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

Edg.
Bear free ^note and patient thoughts. But who comes here? ^note Enter Lear ^note, fantastically dressed with wild flowers. ^note
The safer ^note sense will ^note ne'er accommodate
His master thus. ^note

Lear.

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

Edg.

O thou side-piercing ^note sight!

Lear.

Nature's ^note above art in that respect. There's your press-money. That fellow handles his bow like a crow-keeper ^note: draw me a clothier's yard. Look, look, a mouse! Peace, peace; this piece of ^note toasted cheese will do 't ^note. There 's my gauntlet; I'll prove it on a giant. Bring up the brown bills. O, well flown, bird ^note! i' the clout, i' the clout: ^note hewgh ^note! Give the word.

Edg.

Sweet marjoram.

Lear.

Pass.

Glou.

I know that voice.

Lear.

Ha! Goneril, with a white beard! They ^note flattered me like a dog, and told me I had white ^note hairs in my beard ere the black ones were there. To say ‘ay’ and ‘no’ to every thing that ^note I said! ‘Ay’ and ‘no’ too was ^note no good divinity. When the rain came to wet me once and the wind ^note to make me chatter; when the thunder would not peace at my bidding; there I found 'em, there I smelt 'em ^note out. Go to, they are not men ^note o' their ^note words: they told me I was every thing; 'tis a lie, I am not ague-proof ^note.

Glou.

The trick of that voice I do well remember: is't not the king? ^note

Lear.
Ay, every ^note inch a king:
When I do stare, see how the subject quakes ^note.
I pardon that man's life. What was thy ^note cause? ^note
Adultery? ^{note note}
Thou shalt not die: die for ^note adultery! No:
The wren goes to't, and the small gilded fly
Does ^note lecher in my sight.
Let copulation thrive; for Gloucester's bastard son
Was kinder to his father than ^note my daughters
Got 'tween the lawful sheets. ^note
To't, luxury, pell-mell! for I lack soldiers. ^note
Behold yond ^note simpering dame,
Whose face between her forks presages ^note snow,
That minces ^note virtue and does ^note shake the head
To hear ^note of pleasure's name;
The ^note fitchew, nor the soiled ^note horse, goes to't
With a more riotous appetite.
Down from the waist ^note they are ^note Centaurs,
Though women all above:
But to the girdle do the gods inherit, ^note

Beneath is all ^note the fiends' ^note;
There's hell, there's darkness, there's the sulphurous ^note pit, ^note

Burning ^note, scalding, stench, consumption ^note; fie, fie, fie! pah, pah! Give me an ounce of civet, good apothecary, to sweeten ^note my imagination: there's money for thee. ^note

Glou.

O, let me kiss that hand!

Lear.

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

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

Lear.

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

Glou.
Were all the letters ^note suns, I could not see one ^note.

Edg.
I would not take this from report: it is,
And my heart breaks at it. ^note

Lear.
Read.

Glou.
What, with the case ^note of eyes?

Lear.

O, ho, are you there with me? No eyes in your

head, nor no ^note money in your purse? Your eyes are in a heavy ^note case, your purse in a light ^note: yet you see how this world goes. ^note

Glou.

I see it feelingly.

Lear.

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

Glou.

Ay, ^note sir.

Lear.

And the creature run from the cur? There thou mightst behold the great image of authority: a dog's obeyed ^note in office.

Arm it in rags ^note, a ^note pigmy's straw does ^note pierce it.
None does offend, none, ^note I say, none; I'll able ^note 'em ^note:
Take that of me, my friend, who have the power
To seal the accuser's lips. ^note Get thee glass eyes,
And, like a scurvy politician, seem
To see the things thou dost not. ^note

Now, now, now, now ^note: pull off my boots: harder, harder ^note: so. ^note

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

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

Glou.
Alack, alack the day!

Lear.
When we are born, we cry that we are come
To this great stage of fools. This 's a good block. ^note
It were a delicate stratagem, to shoe ^note
A troop of horse with felt ^note: I'll put 't ^note in proof; ^note
And when I have ^note stol'n ^note upon these sons-in-law ^note,

Then, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill! Enter a Gentleman, with Attendants. ^note

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

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

Gent.
You shall have any thing.

Lear.
No seconds? all myself?
Why, this would make a man a man ^note of salt,
To use his eyes for garden ^note water-pots,
Ay, and laying autumn's dust.

Gent.
Good sir,—

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

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

Lear.

Then there's life in 't. Nay, if ^note you get it, you shall get it by ^note running. Sa, sa, sa, sa. ^{note note}

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

Edg.
Hail, gentle sir.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gent.
Though that the queen on special cause is here,
Her ^note army is moved on.

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

Glou.
You ever-gentle ^note gods, take my breath from me;
Let not my worser spirit tempt me again
To die before you please!

Edg.
Well pray ^note you, father.

Glou.
Now, good sir, what are you?

Edg.
A most poor man, made tame to ^note fortune's blows;

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

Glou.
Hearty thanks:
The bounty ^note and the benison ^note of heaven
To boot ^note, and boot! ^note Enter Oswald. ^note

Osw. ^note
A proclaim'd prize! Most ^note happy! ^note
That eyeless head of thine was first ^note framed flesh
To raise my fortunes. Thou ^note old ^note unhappy traitor,
Briefly thyself remember: the sword is out
That must destroy thee.

Glou.
Now ^note let thy friendly hand
Put strength enough to't ^note. [Edgar interposes. ^note

Osw.
Wherefore, bold peasant,
Darest ^note thou support a publish'd traitor? Hence!
Lest that ^note the infection of his fortune take
Like hold on thee. Let go his arm. ^note

Edg.
Chill not let go, zir ^note, without vurther ^note 'casion ^note. ^note

Osw.
Let go, slave, or thou diest!

Edg.

Good gentleman, go your gait, and ^note let poor volk ^note pass. An ^note chud ha' ^note been zwaggered ^note out of my life, 'twould ^note not ha' been zo ^note long as 'tis ^note by a vortnight ^note. Nay, come not near th' ^note old man; keep out, che vor ye ^note, or I 'se ^note try whether ^note your costard ^note or my ballow ^note be the harder: chill ^note be plain with you.

Osw.

Out, dunghill!

Edg.

Chill pick your teeth, zir ^note: come; no matter vor ^note your foins.

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

Edg.
I know thee well: a serviceable villain,
As duteous to the vices of thy mistress

As badness would desire. ^note

Glou.
What, is he dead?

Edg. ^note
Sit you down, father; rest you.
Let's ^note see these ^note pockets: the letters ^note that he speaks of
May ^note be my friends. He's dead; I am ^note only sorry ^note
He had no other deathsman. Let us see:
Leave ^note, gentle wax; and, manners, blame ^note us not: ^note
To ^note know our enemies' minds, we'ld ^note rip their hearts;
Their papers, is ^note more lawful. [Reads] ^note

‘Let our ^note 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 ^note he return the conqueror: then ^note am I the prisoner, and his bed my gaol ^note; from the loathed warmth whereof deliver me, and supply the place for your ^note labour. ^note ‘Your—wife, so I would say— ^noteaffectionate servant, ^note

‘Goneril.’

O ^note undistinguish'd ^note space ^note of woman's will ^{note note}!
A plot upon her virtuous husband's life;
And the exchange my brother! Here, in the ^note sands,
Thee I'll rake up, the post ^note unsanctified
Of murderous lechers; and in the mature ^note time
With this ungracious paper strike the sight
Of the death-practised ^note duke: for him 'tis well
That of thy ^note death and business I can tell.

Glou.
The king is mad: how stiff is my vile ^note sense, ^note
That I stand up, and have ingenious feeling
Of my huge sorrows! Better I were distract:
So should my thoughts be sever'd ^note from my griefs,
And woes by wrong imaginations ^note lose
The knowledge of themselves. [Drum afar off. ^note

Edg.
Give me your hand:
Far off, methinks, I hear the beaten drum: ^note
Come, father ^note, I'll bestow you with a friend. [Exeunt. ^note

^note Scene VII. [Footnote: A tent in the French camp. ^note Lear on a bed asleep, ^note soft music playing; ^note Gentleman ^note, and others attending. Enter Cordelia, Kent, and Doctor. ^note

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

Kent.
To be acknowledged, madam, is ^note o'erpaid.
All my reports go with the modest truth,
Nor more nor clipp'd, but so.

Cor.
Be better suited:
These weeds are memories of those worser hours:
I prithee, put them off. ^note

Kent.
Pardon me ^note, dear madam;
Yet to be known shortens my made ^note intent:
My boon I make it, that you know me not
Till time and I think meet.

Cor. ^note
Then be't ^note so, my good lord. [To the Doctor] ^note How ^note does the king? ^note

Doct. ^note
Madam, sleeps ^note still.

Cor.
O you kind ^note gods,
Cure this great breach in his abused nature ^note!
The untuned and jarring ^note senses, O, wind up
Of this child-changed ^note father!

Doct.
So please ^note your majesty
That ^note we may wake the king: ^note he hath slept long. ^note

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

Gent. ^note
Ay, madam; in the heaviness of his ^note sleep
We put fresh garments on him.

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

Cor.
Very well.

Doct.
Please you, draw near. Louder the music there! ^note

Cor.
O my dear father! Restoration ^note hang ^note
Thy ^note medicine on my lips, and let this kiss
Repair those violent harms that my two sisters
Have in thy reverence made! ^note

Kent.
Kind and dear ^note princess!

Cor.
Had you ^note not been their father, these white flakes
Had challenged ^note pity of them. Was this a face ^note
To be opposed ^note against the warring ^note winds?
To stand against the deep dread-bolted ^note thunder?
In the most terrible and nimble stroke
Of quick, cross lightning? to ^note watch—poor perdu!— ^note
With this thin helm? ^note Mine ^note enemy's ^note dog ^note,
Though he had bit me, should have stood that night
Against my fire; and wast thou fain, poor father, ^note
To hovel thee with swine and rogues forlorn,
In short and musty straw? Alack, alack ^note!
'Tis wonder that thy ^note life and wits at once
Had not concluded all. He ^note wakes; speak to him.

Doct. ^note
Madam, do you; ^note 'tis fittest.

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

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

Do scald ^note like molten lead.

Cor.
Sir, do you know me? ^note

Lear.
You are ^note a spirit, I know: when ^note did you die?

Cor.
Still, still, far wide!

Doct.
He's scarce awake: let him alone awhile.

Lear.
Where have I been? Where am I? Fair daylight? ^note
I am ^note mightily ^note abused. I should e'en ^note die with pity,
To see another thus. I know not what to say ^note.
I will not swear these are my hands: let's see;
I feel this pin prick. Would I were assured
Of my condition ^note!

Cor.
O, look upon ^note me, sir,
And hold your hands ^note in benediction o'er me.
No, sir, ^note you must not kneel. ^note

Lear.
Pray, do not mock me ^note:
I am a very foolish fond old man,
Fourscore ^note and upward, not an hour more nor less; ^{note note}
And, to deal plainly ^note,
I fear I am not in my perfect ^note mind.
Methinks I should know you and know this man;
Yet I am doubtful; for I am ^note mainly ignorant

What place this is, and all the skill I have
Remembers not these garments, nor I ^note know not
Where I did lodge last night. Do not ^note laugh at me;
For, as I am a man, I think this lady
To be my child Cordelia.

Cor.
And so I am, I am ^note.

Lear.
Be your tears wet? yes, faith. I pray ^note, weep not: ^note
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 ^note wrong:
You have some cause, they have not ^note.

Cor.
No cause, no cause.

Lear.
Am I in France?

Kent.
In your own kingdom, sir.

Lear.
Do not abuse me. ^note

Doct.
Be comforted, good madam: the great rage,
You see, is kill'd in him ^note: and yet it is ^note danger
To make him even ^note o'er ^note the time he has lost. ^note
Desire him to go in; trouble ^note him no more
Till further settling. ^note

Cor.
Will't ^note please your ^note highness walk?

Lear.

You must bear with me. Pray you now, forget and forgive: I am old and foolish. ^note

Gent.

Holds it true, sir, that ^note the Duke of Cornwall was so slain?

Kent.

Most certain, sir.

Gent.

Who is conductor of his people?

Kent.

As 'tis ^note said, the bastard son of Gloucester.

Gent.

They say Edgar, his banished son, is with the Earl of Kent in Germany. ^note

Kent.

Report is changeable. 'Tis time to look about; the powers of the kingdom approach apace.

Gent.

The ^note arbitrement is like to be bloody ^note. Fare you well, sir. ^{note note}

Kent.

My point and period will be throughly wrought, Or well or ill, as this day's battle's ^note fought. ^note