Glo.
When shall I come to th' 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.

Edg.
Why then your other Senses grow imperfect
By your Eyes anguish.

Glo.
So may it be indeed.
Methinks thy Voice is alter'd, and thou speak'st
In better phrase, and matter than thou didst.

Edg.
You're much deceiv'd: in nothing am I chang'd
But in my Garments.

Glo.
Methinks you're better spoken.

Edg.
Come on, Sir,
Here's the place; stand still. How fearful
And dizzy 'tis, to cast ones Eyes so low!
The Crows and Choughs, that wing the midway air
Shew scarce so gross as Beetles. Half way down
Hangs one that gathers Samphire; dreadful trade!
Methinks he seems no bigger than his head.
The Fisher-men that walk upon the beach,
Appear like Mice; and yond tall Anchoring Bark,
Diminish'd to her Cock; her Cock, a Buoy
Almost too small for sight. The murmuring Surge,
That on th' unnumbred idle Pebble chafes
Cannot be heard so high. I'll look no more,
Lest my brain turn, and the deficient sight
Topple down headlong.

Glo.
Set me where you stand.

Edg.
Give me your hand:
You are now within a foot of th' extream Verge:
For all beneath the Moon would not I leap upright.

Glo.
Let go my hand:
Here Friend's, 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 farewel, and let me hear thee going.

Edg.
Now fare ye well, good Sir. [Seems to go.

Glo.
With all my heart.

Edg.
Why do I trifle thus with his despair?
'Tis done to cure it.

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 it self out. If Edgar live, O bless him.
Now Fellow, fare thee well. [He leaps and falls along.

Edg.
Good Sir, farewel.
And yet I know not how conceit may rob
The treasure of Life, when Life it self
Yields to the Theft. Had he been where he thought,
By this had thought been past. Alive, or dead?
Hoa, you Sir! Friend! here, you Sir! speak!
Thus might he pass indeed—yet he revives.
What are you Sir?

Glo.
Away, and let me die.

Edg.
Had'st thou been ought but Gozemore, Feathers and Air,
So many fathom down precipitating,
Thoud'st shiver'd like an Egg: but thou dost breath;
Hast heavy substance, bleed'st not; speak, art sound?
Ten Masts at least, make not the altitude
Which thou hast perpendicularly fallen;
Thy Life's a miracle. Speak yet again.

Glo.
But have I fall'n, or no?

Edg.
From the dread Summet of this Chalky Bourn
Look up, a height, the shrill gor'd Lark so far
Cannot be seen or heard: Do but look up.

Glo.
Alack, I have no Eyes;
Is wretchedness depriv'd that benefit
To end it self 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'th' 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 walk'd, and wav'd like the enraged Sea;
It was some Fiend: therefore thou happy Father,
Think that the clearest gods, who make them honours

Of Mens impossibilities, have preserv'd thee.

Glo.
I do remember now: henceforth I'll bear
Affliction, 'till it do cry out it self
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. Enter Lear.
But who comes here?
The safer Sense will ne'er accommodate
His Master thus.

Lear.

No, they cannot touch me for Coyning, I am the King himself.

Edg.

O thou side-piercing sight!

Lear.

Nature's above Art, in that respect. There's your Press-mony. That Fellow handles his Bow like a Crow-keeper: draw me a Clothier's Yard. Look, look, a Mouse. Peace, Peace, this piece of toasted Cheese will do't— There's my Gauntlet, I'll prove it on a Gyant. Bring up the brown Bills. O well flown Bird: i'th' clout, i'th' clout: Hewgh. Give the word.

Edg.

Sweet Marjoram.

Lear.

Pass.

Glo.

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 in my Beard, e'er the black ones were there. To say Ay, and No, to every thing that I said—Ay and No too, was no good Divinity. When the Rain came to wet me once, and Wind to make me chatter: when the Thunder would not peace at my bidding, there I found 'em, there I smelt 'em 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, I do well remember: Is't not the King?

Lear.
Ay, every inch a King.
When I do stare, see how the Subject quakes.
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 Flie
Do's letcher 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 pell-mell, for I lack Soldiers.

Behold yon simpering Dame, whose face, between her Forks, presages Snow; that minces Virtue, and do's shake the Head to hear of Pleasures name. The Fitchew, nor the soyled Horse goes to't with a more riotous Appetite: down from the waste they are Centaures, though Women all above: but to the Girdle do the Gods inherit, beneath is all the fiends. There's Hell, there's Darkness, there is the sulphurous Pit, Burning, Scalding, Stench, Consumption: Fie, fie, fie; pah, pah: Give me an Ounce of Civet; good Apothecary sweeten my Imagination: There's Mony for thee.

Glo.

O let me kiss that Hand.

Lear.

Let me wipe it first, it smells of Mortality.

Glo.
O ruin'd piece of Nature, this great World
Shall so wear out to naught. Do'st thou know me?

Lear.

I remember thine Eyes well enough: do'st thou squiny at me? No, do thy worst blind Cupid, I'll not love. Read thou this challenge, mark but the penning of it.

Glo.
Were all thy 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 this Case of Eyes?

Lear.

Oh ho, are you there with me? No Eyes in your Head, nor no Mony in your Purse? Your Eyes are in 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 yond Justice rails upon yond simple Thief. Hark in thine Ear: Change places, and Handy-dandy, 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 obey'd in Office. Thou, Rascal Beadle, hold thy bloody Hand: why do'st thou lash that Whore? Strip thy own Back, thou hotly lust'st to use her in that kind, for which

thou whip'st her. The Usurer hangs the Cozener.

Edg.
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 know'st, the first time that we smell the Air
We wawle, and cry. I will preach to thee: Mark—

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!—
It were a delicate Stratagem to shooe
A Troop of Horse with felt: I'll put't in proof,
And when I have stol'n upon these Son-in-Laws;
Then kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill. Enter a Gentleman, with Attendants.

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

Lear.
No rescue? what, a Prisoner? I am even
The natural Fool of fortune. Use me well,
You shall have ransom. Let me have Surgeons,
I am cut to th' Brains.

Gent.
You shall have any thing.

Lear.
No Seconds? All my self?
Why, this would make a Man, a Man of Salt;
To use his Eyes for Garden-water-pots. I will die bravely,
Like a smug Bridegroom. What? I will be Jovial:
Come, come, I am a King. Masters, know you that?

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

Lear.
Then there's life in't. Come, and 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 a 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 ought, Sir, of a Battel 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 discry
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. [Exit.

Edg.
I thank you, Sir.

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,
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. 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 thy self remember: the Sword is out
That must destroy thee.

Glo.
Now let thy friendly hand
Put strength enough to't.

Stew.
Wherefore, bold Peasant,
Dar'st thou support a publish'd Traitor? hence,
Lest that th' 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 dy'st.

Edg.

Good Gentleman, go your gate, and let poor volk pass: and 'chud ha' been zwagger'd out of my Life, 'twould not ha' been zo long as 'tis, by a vortnight. Nay, come not near th' old Man: Keep out che vor'ye, or ice try whether your Costard, or my Ballow be the harder; chill be plain with you.

Stew.

Out Dunghil.

Edg.

Child pick your teeth Zir: come, no matter vor your foyns.

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: seek him out
Upon the English Party. Oh untimely death, 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 these Pockets; the Letters that he speaks of
May be my Friends: he's dead; I am only sorry
He had no other Deathsman. Let us see—
By your leave, gentle wax, and manners—blame us not,
To know our Enemies minds, we rip their Hearts,
Their Papers are more lawful. Reads the Letter.

Let our reciprocal Vows be remembred. You have many opportunities to cut him off: if your will want not, time and place will be fruitfully offer'd. 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 of our Labour.

Your (Wife, so I would say) affectionate
Servant, Gonerill.

Thee I'll rake up, the Post unsanctified
Of murtherous Letchers: and in the mature time,
With this ungracious Paper strike the sight
Of the death-practis'd Duke: for him 'tis well,
That of thy death, and business, I can tell.

Glo.
The King is mad; how stiff is my vile Sense
That I stand up, and have ingenious feeling
Of my huge Sorrows? Better I were distract,
So should my Thoughts be sever'd from my Griefs, [Drum afar off.
And woes, by wrong imaginations, lose
The Knowledge of themselves.

Edg.
Give me your hand:
Far off methinks I hear the beaten Drum.
Come, Father, I'll bestow you with a Friend. [Exeunt.

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