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Alexander Pope [1747], The works of Shakespear in eight volumes. The Genuine Text (collated with all the former Editions, and then corrected and emended) is here settled: Being restored from the Blunders of the first Editors, and the Interpolations of the two Last: with A Comment and Notes, Critical and Explanatory. By Mr. Pope and Mr. Warburton (Printed for J. and P. Knapton, [and] S. Birt [etc.], London) [word count] [S11301].
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SCENE XI. Enter Glo'ster, brought in by Servants.


Who's there? the traitor?

Reg.
Ingrateful fox! 'tis he.

Corn.
Bind fast his corky arms.

Glo.
What mean your Graces? Good my Friends, consider.
You are my Guests: Do me no foul play, friends.

Corn.
Bind him, I say.
[They bind him.

Reg.
Hard, hard: O filthy traitor!

Glo.
Unmerciful lady as you are! I'm none.

Corn.
To this chair bind him. Villain, thou shalt find—

Glo.
7 note




By the kind gods, 'tis most ignobly done
To pluck me by the beard.

-- 93 --

Reg.
So white, and such a traitor?

Glo.
Naughty lady,
These hairs, which thou dost ravish from my chin,
Will quicken and accuse thee; I'm your Host;
With robbers' hands, 8 notemy hospitable favour
You should not ruffle thus. What will you do?

Corn.
Come, Sir, what letters had you late from France?

Reg.
Be (a) note simple-answer'd, for we know the truth.

Corn.
And what confed'racy have you with the traitors,
Late footed in the kingdom?

Reg.
To whose hands
Have you sent the lunatick King? speak.

Glo.
I have a letter guessingly set down,
Which came from one that's of a neutral heart,
And not from one oppos'd.

Corn.
Cunning—

Reg.
And false.

Corn.
Where hast thou sent the King?

Glo.
To Dover.

Reg.
Wherefore to Dover?
Wast thou not charg'd, at peril—

Corn.
Wherefore to Dover? let him first answer that.

Glo.
I am ty'd to th' stake, and I must stand the course.

-- 94 --

Reg.
Wherefore to Dover?

Glo.
Because I would not see thy cruel nails
Pluck out his poor old eyes; nor thy fierce sister
In his anointed flesh stick boarish phangs.
9 note


The sea, with such a storm as his bare head
In hell-black night indur'd, would have boil'd up,
And quench'd the 1 notestelled fires;
Yet poor old heart, he help'd the heav'ns to rain.
If wolves had at thy gate howl'd that stern time,
Thou should'st have said, “go, porter turn the key;
2 noteAll cruels else subscrib'd; but I shall see
The winged vengeance overtake such Children.

Corn.
See't shalt thou never. Fellows, hold the chair.
Upon these eyes of thine I'll fet my foot.
[Glo'ster is held down, while Cornwall treads out one of his eyes.

Glo.
He, that will think to live 'till he be old,
Give me some help.—O cruel! O you gods!

Reg.
One side will mock another; th' other too.

Corn.
If you see vengeance—

Serv.
Hold your hand, my lord:
I've serv'd you, ever since I was a child;
But better service have I never done you,
Than now to bid you hold.

Reg.
How now, you dog?

Serv.
If you did wear a beard upon your chin,
I'd shake it on this quarrel. What do you mean?

Corn.
My villain!

-- 95 --

Serv.
Nay then come on, and take the chance of anger.
[Fight; in the Scuffle Cornwall is wounded.

Reg.
Give me thy sword. A peasant stand up thus?
[Kills him.

Serv.
Oh, I am slain—my lord, you have one eye left
To see some mischief on him. Oh—
[Dies.

Corn.
Lest it see more, prevent it; out, vile gelly:
Where is thy lustre now?
[Treads the other out.

Glo.
All dark and comfortless—where's my son Edmund?
Edmund, enkindle all the sparks of nature
To quit this horrid act.

Reg.
Out, treacherous villain.
Thou call'st on him, that hates thee: It was he,
That made the overture of thy treasons to us:
Who is too good to pity thee.

Glo.
O my follies!
Then Edgar was abus'd. Kind gods, forgive
Me that, and prosper him!

Reg.
Go thrust him out
At gates, and let him smell his way to Dover. [Exit with Glo'ster.
How is't, my lord, how look you?

Corn.
I have receiv'd a hurt; follow me, lady.—
Turn out that eyeless villain; throw this slave
Upon the dunghil.—Regan, I bleed apace.
Untimely comes this hurt. Give me your arm.
[Exit Corn. led by Regan.

1st Serv.
I'll never care what Wickedness I do,
If this Man come to Good.

2d Serv.
If She live long,
And, in the End, meet the old course of Death,
Women will all turn Monsters.

1st Serv.
Let's follow the old Earl, and get the Bedlam

-- 96 --


To lead him where he would; his roguish Madness
Allows itself to any Thing.

2d Serv.
Go thou; I'll fetch some Flax and whites of Eggs
T' apply to's bleeding Face. Now, Heav'n help him!
[Exeunt severally.
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Alexander Pope [1747], The works of Shakespear in eight volumes. The Genuine Text (collated with all the former Editions, and then corrected and emended) is here settled: Being restored from the Blunders of the first Editors, and the Interpolations of the two Last: with A Comment and Notes, Critical and Explanatory. By Mr. Pope and Mr. Warburton (Printed for J. and P. Knapton, [and] S. Birt [etc.], London) [word count] [S11301].
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