Edg.
Yet better thus, and known to be contemn'd,
Than still contemn'd and flatter'd. To be ^note worst,
The lowest, most ^note dejected thing ^note of fortune,
Stands still in esperance, ^note lives not in fear:
The lamentable change is from the best;
The worst returns to laughter. Welcome then, ^note
Thou unsubstantial air, that I embrace!
The wretch, that thou hast blown unto the worst,
Owes nothing to thy blasts.—But who comes here? ^note Enter Gloster, and an old Man.
My father, poorly led?—World, world, o world!14Q1360
But that thy strange mutations make us wait thee ^note,
Life would not yield to age.

o. m.

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

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

o. m.
You ^note cannot see your way.

Glo.
I have no way, and therefore want no eyes;
I stumbl'd when I saw: Full oft 'tis seen,
Our mean secures ^note us; and our meer defects
Prove our commodities. Ah, dear ^note son Edgar,
The food of thy abused father's wrath!

Might I but live to see thee in my touch,
I'd say, I had eyes again.

o. m.
How now? Who's there?

&clquo;Edg.
&clquo;O gods! Who is't can say, I am at the worst? ^note&crquo;
&clquo;I am worse than e'er I was:&crquo;

o. m.
'Tis poor mad Tom.

&clquo;Edg.
&clquo;And worse I may be yet: The worst is not,&crquo;
&clquo;So long ^note as we can say, This is the worst.

o. m.
Fellow, where goest? ^note

Glo.
Is it a beggar-man?

o. m.
Madman and beggar too.

Glo.
He has ^note some reason, else he could not beg.
I'the 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 heard more since:
As flies to wanton ^note boys, are we to the gods;
They kill us ^note for their sport.

&clquo;Edg.
&clquo;How should this be? ^note—&crquo;
&clquo;Bad is the trade that must play fool ^note to sorrow,&crquo;
&clquo;Ang'ring itself and others.&crquo;—Bless thee, master!

Glo.
Is that the naked fellow?

o. m.
Ay, my lord.

Glo.
Then, pr'ythee, get thee gone: If ^note, for my sake,
Thou wilt o'er-take us, hence a ^note mile or twain,
I'the way towards Dover, ^note do it for ancient love;
And bring some covering for this naked soul,
Whom I'll ^note entreat to lead me.

o. m.
Alack, sir, he is mad.

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

o. m.
I'll bring him the best 'parrel that I have,
Come on't what will. [Exit old Man.

Glo.
Sirrah, naked fellow,—

Edg.
Poor Tom's a-cold.—&clquo;I cannot daub it further. ^note&crquo;

Glo.
Come hither, fellow.

&clquo;Edg.
&clquo;And yet I must. ^note&crquo;—Bless thy sweet eyes! they bleed.

Glo.
Know'st thou the way to Dover?

Edg.

Both stile and gate, horse-way and foot-path. Poor Tom hath been scar'd out of his good wits: Bless thee, good man's son, from ^note the foul fiend! ^note Five fiends14Q1361 have been in poor Tom in once: ^note of lust, as Obidicut; Hobbididdance, prince of darkness; ^note Mahu, of stealing; Modo, of murder; Fliberdegibbet, of mopping and mowing; who since possesses chamber-maids and waiting-women. So, bless thee, master!

Glo.
Here, take this &dagger2; purse, thou whom the heaven's plagues
Have humbl'd to all strokes: that I am wretched,
Makes thee the happier:—Heavens, deal so still!
Let the superfluous,14Q1362 and lust-dieting ^note man,
That slaves your ^note ordinance, that will not see
Because he doth not ^note feel, feel your power quickly;
So distribution should undo excess, ^note
And each man have enough.—Dost thou know Dover?

Edg.
Ay, master.

Glo.
There is a cliff, whose high and bending head
Looks fearfully on the ^{note note} 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 need.

Edg.
Give me thy arm;
Poor Tom shall lead thee. [Exeunt.

SCENE II. Before Albany's Palace. Enter Goneril, and Edmund; Steward meeting them.

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

Ste.
Madam, within; but never man so chang'd:
I told him of the army that was landed;
He smil'd at it: I told him, you were coming;
His answer was, The worse: of Gloster'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.

Gon.
Then shall you go no further.
It is the cowish terror of ^note his spirit,
That dares not undertake: he'll not feel wrongs,
Which tye him to an answer: Our wishes on the way
May prove effects. Back, Edmund, to ^note my brother;
Hasten his musters, and conduct his powers:
I must change arms at ^note home, and give the distaff
Into my husband's hands. This trusty servant
Shall pass between us: ere long you are like to hear,
If you dare venture ^note in your own behalf,
A mistress's command. ^note Wear &dagger2; this; spare speech;
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 Gloster! [Exit Edmund.
O, the strange difference of man and man!— ^note

To thee a ^note woman's services are due;
My fool usurps ^note my body.

Ste.
Madam, here comes my lord. [Exit Steward. Enter Albany.

Gon.
I have been worth the whistle.

Alb.
O Goneril,
You are not worth the dust which the rude ^note wind
Blows in your face. I fear ^note your14Q1363 disposition:
That nature, which contemns it's origin,
Cannot be border'd certain in itself;
She that herself will sliver and disbranch
From her material sap, perforce must wither,
And come to deadly use.

Gon.
No more; the text is foolish.

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

Gon.
Milk-liver'd man!
That bear'st a cheek for blows, a head for wrongs;
Who hast not in thy brows an eye discerning ^note
Thine honour from thy suffering; that not know'st, ^note14Q1364
Fools do 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 land;
With plumed helm thy slayer begins ^note his threats;
While thou, a moral fool, sit'st still, and cry'st,
Alack, why does he so?

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

Gon.
O vain fool!

Alb.
Thou chang'd and self-converted ^note thing, for shame ^note
Be-monster not thy feature. Were it my fitness
To let these hands obey my boiling blood,
They are apt enough to dislocate and tear
Thy flesh and bones: Howe'er thou art a fiend,
A woman's shape doth shield thee.

Gon.
Marry, your manhood now,— Enter a Messenger. ^note

Alb.
What news?

Mes.
O my good lord, the duke of Cornwal's dead;
Slain by his servant, going to put out
The other eye of Gloster.

Alb.
Gloster's eyes!

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

Alb.
This shews you are above,
You justices, ^note that these our nether crimes
So speedily can venge.—But, o poor Gloster!
Lost he his other eye?

Mes.
Both, both, my lord.—

This &dagger2; letter, madam, craves a speedy answer;
'Tis from your sister.

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

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

Mes.
Come with my lady hither.

Alb.
He's not here ^note

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

Alb.
Knows he the wickedness?

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

Alb.
Gloster, I live
To thank thee for the love thou shew'dst the king,
And to revenge thine eyes. ^note—Come hither, friend;
Tell me what more thou know'st. [Exeunt. SCENE III. ^note French Camp, under Dover. Enter Kent, and Gentleman.

Ken.
The king of France14Q1365 so suddenly gone back!
Know you the reason ^note?

Gen.
Something he left imperfect in the state,
Which since his coming forth is thought of; which
Imports to the kingdom so much fear and danger,
That his return ^note was most requir'd and necessary.

Ken.
Who hath he left behind him general?

Gen.
The mareschal of France, monsieur le Fer. ^note

Ken.
Well; say, sir, did your letters pierce the queen
To any demonstration of her grief?

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

Ken.
O, then it mov'd her.

Gen.
Not to a rage: patience and sorrow strove
Who should express her goodliest. You have seen
Sunshine and rain at once? Her smiles and tears
Were like a wetter May: ^note Those happy smiles,
That play'd on her ripe lip, seem'd not to know
What guests were in her eyes; which parted thence,
As pearls from diamonds dropt. In brief, sir, sorrow
Would be a rarity most belov'd, if all
Could so become it.

Ken.
Made she no verbal question?

Gen.
Yes; once, or twice, she heav'd the name of father
Pantingly forth, as if it press'd her heart:
Cry'd, Sisters! sisters! shame of ladies! sisters!

Ken.
Father&dotup; Sisters&dotup;

Gen.
What, i'the storm? i'the night?
Let it not ^note be believed ^note: There she shook
The holy water from her heavenly eyes,
And clamour moisten'd: then ^note away she started,
To deal with grief alone.

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

Gen.
No.

Ken.
Was this before the king return'd?

Gen.
No, since.

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

Gen.
Why, good sir?

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

Gen.
Alack, poor gentleman!

Ken.
Of Albany's and Cornwal's powers you heard not?

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

Ken.
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 a while;
When I am known aright, you shall not grieve
Lending me this acquaintance. Pray you, along ^note with me. SCENE IV. The same. A Tent. Enter Cordelia, attended; Physician, Officers, Guards, &c.

Cor.
Alack, 'tis he; why, he was met even now
As mad as the vext sea: ^note singing aloud;
Crown'd with rank fumiterr, ^{note note} and furrow weeds,
With bur-docks ^note, ^note14Q1366 hemlock, nettles, cuckoo-flowers,
Darnel, and all the idle weeds that grow
In our sustaining corn.—A century send forth ^note;
Search every acre in the high-grown field,
And bring him to our eye.— [to an Officer, who goes out.
What can man's wisdom do, ^note in the restoring

Of his bereaved sense? He, that helps him ^note,
Take all my outward worth.

Phy.
There ^note is means, madam:
Our foster nurse of nature is repose,
The which he lacks; that 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,
Spring with my tears! be aidant, and remediate,
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.

Mes.
News, madam;
The British powers are marching hitherward.

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
My mourning, and importunate ^{note note} tears, hath pity'd:
No blown ambition doth our arms incite ^note,
But love, dear love, and our ag'd father's right: ^note
Soon may I hear, and see him! [Exeunt. SCENE V. A Room in Gloster's Castle. Enter Regan, and Steward.

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

Ste.
Ay, madam.

Reg.
Himself
In person there? ^note

Ste.
Madam, with much ado:

Your sister is ^note the better soldier.

Reg.
Lord Edmund14Q1367 spake not with your lord at ^note home?

Ste.
No, madam.

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

Ste.
I know not, lady.

Reg.
'Faith, he is posted hence on serious ^note 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 ^note think, is gone,
In pity of his misery, to dispatch
His nighted life; moreover to descry
The strength o' the enemy. ^note

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

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

Ste.
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; ^note I know not what:—I'll love thee much,
Let me unseal the letter.

Ste.
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 oeillades ^note, ^note and most speaking looks,
To noble Edmund: I know, you are of her bosom.

Ste.
I, madam?

Reg.
I speak in understanding; you are, I ^note know it:
Therefore, I do advise you, take this note:
My lord is dead; Edmund and I have talk'd;
And more convenient is he for my hand,
Than for your lady's:—You may gather more.

If you do find him, pray you, give him &dagger2; this;
And when your mistress hears thus much from you,
I pray, desire her call her wisdom to her.
So, fare you ^note well.
If you do chance to hear of that blind traitor,
Perferment falls on him that cuts him off.

Ste.
'Would I could meet him ^note, madam! I would shew ^note
What party I ^note do follow.

Reg.
Fare thee well. [Exeunt severally. SCENE VI. Fields near Dover. Enter Edgar, habited like a Peasant, and Gloster.

Glo.
When shall I come ^note to the top of that same hill?

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

Glo.
Methinks, the ground is even.

Edg.
Horrible steep:
Hark, hark; do you not 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
With better ^note phrase, and matter, than thou did'st.

Edg.
You're 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?
The crows, and coughs, that wing the midway air,
Shew scarce so gross as beetles: Half way down
Hangs one that gathers sampire; dreadful trade!

Methinks, he seems no bigger than his head:
The fishermen, that walk ^note upon the beach ^note,
Appear like mice; and yon' 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 pebble chafes, ^note
Cannot be heard so high:—I'll ^note 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 the extream verge: for all beneath the moon
Would I not leap out-right ^note.

Glo.
Let go my hand.
Here, friend, 's another &dagger2; purse; in it, a jewel
Well worth a poor man's taking: Fairies, and gods,
Prosper it with thee! Go thou farther off,
Bid me farewel, and let me hear thee going.

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

Glo.
With all my heart.

&clquo;Edg.
&clquo;Why do I ^note triflle14Q1368 thus with his despair?&crquo;
&clquo;'Tis done ^note to cure it.&crquo;

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 ^note, and loathed part of nature, should
Burn itself out. If Edgar live, o, bless him! ^note—
Now, fellow, fare thee well. [throws himself forward, and falls.

Edg.
Good sir, ^note farewel.

&clquo;And yet I know not how conceit may rob&crquo;
&clquo;The treasury ^note of life, when life itself&crquo;
&clquo;Yields to the theft: Had he been where he thought,&crquo;
&clquo;By this, thought had ^note been past.&crquo; Alive, or dead?
Ho, you sir, you sir, friend! ^note Hear you ^note, sir? Speak:
&clquo;Thus might he pass indeed: Yet he revives:&crquo;
What are you, sir?

Glo.
Away, and let me dye.

Edg.
Had'st thou been ought but gossemeer, feathers, air, ^note
So many fathom down precipitating,
Thou had'st shiver'd like an egg: but thou dost breath;
Hast heavy substance; bleed'st not; speak'st; art sound. ^note
Ten masts attach'd14Q1369 make ^note not the altitude
Which thou hast perpendicularly fallen ^note;
Thy life's a miracle: Speak yet again.

Glo.
But have I fallen, ^note or no?

Edg.
From the dread summit of ^note this chalky bourn ^note:
Look up a-height; the shrill-gorg'd ^note 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 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? ^note 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 ^note beggar.

Edg.
As I stood here below, methought ^note, his eyes

Were two full moons; he had a thousand noses,
Horns welk'd, and wav'd like the enridged sea; ^note
It was some fiend: Therefore, thou happy father,
Think that the clearest gods, who make them honours ^note
Of men's impossibilities, have preserv'd thee.

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

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

Lea.

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

&clquo;Edg.

&clquo;O thou side-piercing sight!&crquo;

Lea.

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

Edg.

Sweet marjerom.

Lea.

Pass.

Glo.

I know that voice.

Lea.

Ha! Goneril with a white beard!14Q1370—They ^note flatter'd 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 I said! ^note Ay and no too was 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 them, there I smelt them out. Go to, they are not men of their words: they told me, I was every thing; 'tis a lye, I am not ague-proof. ^note

Glo.
The trick of that voice I do well remember;
Is't not the king?

Lea.
Ay, every inch ^note a king:
When I do stare, see, how the subject quakes.
I pardon that man's life: What was the cause ^note?—
Adultery.—
Thou shalt not dye: Dye for adultery! ^note No:
The wren goes to't, and the small gilded fly
Does letcher ^note in my sight. Let copulation thrive:
For Gloster's bastard son was kinder to his father,
Than were my daughters got 'tween the lawful sheets.
To't, luxury, pell-mell, for I lack soldiers. ^note—
Behold yon' simp'ring dame,
Whose face between her forks presageth ^note snow;
That minces virtue, and does shake ^note the head
To ^note hear of pleasure's name;
The fitchow, ^note nor the soyled horse ^note, goes to't
With a more riotous appetite.
Down from the waste they are centaurs,
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, ^note burning, scalding, stench, consumption; ^note—Fie, fie, fie; pah, pah! Give me an ounce of civet, good apothecary, to ^note sweeten my imagination: there's money for thee.

Glo.
O, let me kiss that hand!

Lea.

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

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

Lea.

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

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

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

Lea.

Read.

Glo.
What, with this case ^note of eyes?

Lea.

O, ho, are you there with me? No eyes in your head, nor no money ^note 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.

Lea.

What, art mad? A man may see how this world ^note goes with no eyes. Look with thine ears: ^note see how yon' justice rails upon yon' simple thief. Hark, in thine ear: ^note 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?

Glo.

Ay, sir.

Lea.

And the creature run from the cur? There thou might'st behold the great image of authority: a dog's obey'd in office. ^note—

Through tatter'd cloaths ^note small vices ^note do appear;
Robes, and fur'd gowns, hide all. ^note Plate ^note sins ^note with gold,
And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks:
Arm it in rags, a pigmy's straw does pierce it.
None does offend, none, I say, none; I'll able 'em:
Take that of me, my friend, who have the power
To seal the accuser's lips. Get thee glass eyes;
And, like a scurvy politician, seem
To see the things thou dost not.—Now, now, now, now:
Pull off ^note my boots; harder, harder; so.

&clquo;Edg.
&clquo;O, matter and impertinency mixt;&crquo;
&clquo;Reason in madness!&crquo;

Lea.
If thou wilt weep my fortunes, ^note 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 wail, ^note and cry:—I will preach to thee; mark me ^note.

Glo.
Alack, alack the day!

Lea.
When we are born, we cry, that we are come
To this great stage of fools;—This a good block?14Q1371—
It were a delicate stratagem, to shoe ^note
A troop of horse with felt: I'll put it in proof; ^note
And when I have stoln upon these son ^note-in laws ^note,
Then, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill. Enter Gentleman, and Attendants of Cordelia; and Guard.

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

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

Gen.
You shall have any thing.

Lea.
No seconds? All myself?
Why, this would make a man a man of salt ^note;
To use his eyes for garden water-pots,
And laying autumn's dust.—I ^note will ^note dye bravely,
Like a smug ^note bride-groom: What; I will be jovial:
Come, come;
I am a king, my ^note masters; Know you that?

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

Lea.

Then there's life in't.—Nay, an you ^note get it, you ^note shall get it with running. ^note Sa, sa, sa, sa. ^note

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

Edg.
Hail, gentle sir. ^note

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

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

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

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

Gen.
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.

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

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

Glo.
You ever-gentle gods, take my breath from me:
Let not my worser spirit tempt me again
To dye 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 ^note blows;14Q1372
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 heaven ^note
To boot, and boot! ^note Enter Steward.

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

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

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

Edg.
Ch'ill not
Let go, zir ^note, without vurther ^note 'casion.

Ste.

Let go, slave, or thou dy'st.

Edg.

Good gentleman, go your gate, ^note and ^note let poor volk pass: an ch'ud have been zwagger'd ^note out of my life, 'twould not have been zo long as 'tis ^note by a vortnight: Nay, come not near the old man; keep out, che 'vore ye, or iz try ^note whether your costard or my bat ^note be ^note the harder: Ch'ill be plain with you.

Ste.

Out, dunghill!

Edg.
Ch'ill pick your teeth, zir: come,

No matter vor your foins ^note [They fight; and Edg. knocks him down.

Ste.
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 British party: ^note—
O, 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.— [seating him at a Distance.
Let's see these pockets: ^note the letters, that he speaks of,
May be my friends.—He's dead; I am only sorry ^note
He had no other death's-man.—Let us see:
Leave, gentle wax; and, manners, blame us not:
To know our enemies' minds, we'd rip ^note their hearts;
Their papers, is more ^note lawful. [reads.]

Let our reciprocal ^note vows be remember'd. 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 jayl: from the loath'd warmth whereof deliver me, and supply the place for your labour.

Your Wife, (so I would say;) and your affectionate Servant ^{note note},

Goneril.