Glo. O ruin'd piece of nature! This great

world

Shall so wear out to nought.-Dost thou know me?

Lear. I remember thine eyes well enough. Dost 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 the 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 the case of eyes?

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

Lear. What, art mad? A man may see how this world goes, with no eyes. Look with thine ears: see how yon' justice rails upon yon' 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 dost thou lash that whore? Strip thine own back;

Thou hotly lust'st to use her in that kind

For which thou whipp'st her. The usurer hangs the cozener.

Through tatter'd clothes small vices do appear; Robes, and furr'd gowns, hide all. Plate sin with gold,

And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks: Arm it in rags, a pigmy's straw doth pierce it. None does offend, none, I say, none; I'M 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 my boots:-harder, harder; so.

Edg. O, matter and impertinency mix'd! 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 wawl, and cry:-I will preach to thee; mark

me.

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 shoe

A troop of borse with felt: I'll put it in proof; And when I have stolen upon these sons-in-law, Then, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill.

Enter a Gentleman, with Attendants.

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

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

Gent.

You shall have any thing. Lear. No seconds? All myself?

Why, this would make a man, a man of salt, To use his eyes for garden water-pots,

Ay, and for laying autumn's dust.

Gent.

Good sir,

Lear. I will die bravely, like a bridegroom:

What?

I will be jovial; come, come; I am a king,
My masters, know you that!

Gent. You are a royal one, and we obey you. Lear. Then there's life in it. Nay, an you get it, you shall get it by running. Sa, sa, sa, sa. [Exit, running; Attendants follow. Gent. A sight most pitiful in the meanest wretch;

Past speaking of in a king!-Thou hast one

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 aught, sir, of a battle 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

Stands on the hourly thank you, sir: that's all. descry thought. Edg.

Gent. Though that the queen on special cause Her army is mov'd on.

Edg.

[is here,

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 die before you please!

Edg.
Well pray you, father.
Glo. Now, good sir, what are you?

Edg. A most poor man, made lame by 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 heaven 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 trai

tor,

Briefly thyself remember:-The sword is out
That must destroy thee.

Glo.

Now let thy friendly hand Put strength enough to it. [EDGAR opposes. Wherefore, bold peasant,

Stew. Dar'st thou support a publish'd traitor? Hence;

Lest that the infection of his fortune take
Like hold on thee. Let go his arm.

Edg. Ch'ill not let go, zir, without vurther 'casion.

Stew. Let go, slave, or thou diest.

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

Stew. Out, dunghill!

Edg. Ch'ill pick your teeth, zir; Come; no matter vor your foins.

[They fight; and EDGAR knocks him down. 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 British party:—Ó, untimely 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 his pockets; these letters, that he speaks

of,

May be my friends.-He's dead: I am only sorry He had no other deathsman.-Let us see: Leave, gentle wax; and, manners, blame us not: To know our enemies' minds, we'd rip their hearts;

Their papers, is more lawful.

[Reads.] Let our 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 he return the conqueror: Then am I the prisoner, and his hed my gaol; from the loathed warmth whereof deliver me, and supply the place for your labour.

Your wife (so I would say), and your affectionate servant,

GONERIL.

O undistinguish'd space of woman's will!-
A plot upon her virtuous husband's life;
And the exchange, my brother!-Here, in the
sands,

Thee I'll rake up, the post unsanctified

Of murderous lechers: 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.

[Exit EDGAR, dragging out the Body. 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;

And woes, by wrong imaginations, lose
The knowledge of themselves.

Edg.

Re-enter EDGAR.

Give me your hand:

Far off, methinks, I hear the beaten drum.
Come, father, I'll bestow you with a friend.

SCENE VII.

[Exeunt.

A Tent in the French Camp. LEAR on a Bed, asleep: Physician, Gentleman, and Others attending: Enter CORDELIA and KENT.

Cor. O thou good Kent, how shall I live, and work,

To match thy goodness? My life will be too short, And every measure fail me.

[paid. Kent. To be acknowledg'd, madam, is o'erAll my reports go with the modest truth; Nor more, nor clipp'd, but so.

Be better suited:

[hours;

Cor. These weeds are memories of those worser I pr'ythee put them off. Kent. Pardon me, dear madam; Yet to be known, shortens my made intent: My boon I make it, that you know me not, Till time and I think meet.

Cor. Then be it so, my good lord.-How does [To the Physician.

the king? Phys. Madam, sleeps still.