Bast.
What you have charg'd me with, that I have done,
And more, much more; the time will bring it out.
'Tis past, and so am I: but what art thou
That hast this fortune on me? If thou'rt noble,
I do forgive thee.

Edg.
Let's exchange our charity:
I am no less in blood than thou art, Edmund;
If more, the more thou'st wrong'd me.
My name is Edgar, and thy father's son.

The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices
Make instruments to plague us:
The dark and vitious place, where thee he got,
Cost him his eyes.

Bast.
Thou'st spoken right, 'tis true,
The wheel is come full circle, I am here.

Alb.
Methought thy very gate did prophesie
A royal nobleness; I must embrace thee:
Let sorrow split my heart, if ever I
Did hate thee, or thy father.

Edg.
Worthy Prince, I know't.

Alb.
Where have you hid your self?
How have you known the miseries of your father?

Edg.
By nursing them, my lord. List a brief tale,
And when 'tis told, O that my heart would burst.
The bloody proclamation to escape
That follow'd me so near, (O our lives sweetness!
That we the pain of death would hourly bear
Rather than die at once) taught me to shift
Into a mad-man's rags, t'assume a semblance
The very dogs disdain'd: and in this habit
Met I my father with his bleeding rings,
Their precious gems new lost; became his guide,
Led him, beg'd for him, sav'd him from despair,
Never (O fault) reveal'd my self unto him,
Until some half hour past, when I was arm'd,
Not sure, though hoping of this good success,
I ask'd his blessing, and from first to last
Told him my pilgrimage. But his flaw'd heart,
Alack, too weak the conflict to support,
'Twixt two extreams of passion, joy and grief,
Burst smilingly.

Bast.
This speech of yours hath mov'd me,

And shall perchance do good, but speak you on,
You look as you had something more to say.

Alb.
If there be more, more woful, hold it in,
For I am almost ready to dissolve,
Hearing of this.

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