fairs, and market-towns:-Poor Tom, thy horn is dry.

Lear. Then let them anatomize Regan; see what breeds about her heart: Is there any cause in nature, that makes these hard hearts?-You, sir, I entertain you for one of my hundred; only, I do not like the fashion of your garments: you will say, they are Persian attire; but let them be changed. [To Edgar.

Kent. Now, good my lord, lie here, and rest

a while.

Lear. Make no noise, make no noise; draw the curtains: So, so, so: We'll go to supper i'the morning: So, so, so.

Fool. And I'll go to bed at noon.

Re-enter Gloster.

Glo. Come hither, friend: Where

master?

the king my

Kent. Here, sir; but trouble him not, his wits

are gone.

Glo. Good friend, I pr'ythee take him in thy arms; I have o'erheard a plot of death upon him: There is a litter ready; lay him in't,

And drive towards Dover, friend, where thou shalt

meet

Both welcome and protection. Take up thy master
If thou should'st dally half an hour, his life,
With thine, and all that offer to defend him,
Stand in assured loss: Take up, take up;
And follow me, that will to some provision
Give thee quick conduct.

Kent.
Oppress'd nature sleeps:-
This rest might yet have balm'd thy broken senses,
Which, if convenience will not allow,

Stand in hard cure.-Come, help to bear thy master, Thou must not stay behind.

Glo.

[To the Fool.

Come, come, away.

[Exeunt Kent, Gloster, and the Fool,

bearing off the King.

Edg. When we our betters see bearing our woes, We scarcely think our miseries our foes. Who alone suffers, suffers most i'the mind; Leaving free things, and happy shows, behind: But then the mind much sufferance doth o'erskip, When grief hath mates, and bearing fellowship. How light and portable my pain seems now, When that, which makes me bend, makes the king bow;

He childed, as I father'd!-Tom, away:

Mark the high noises; and thyself bewray,2 When false opinion, whose wrong thought defiles thee,

In thy just proof, repeals, and reconciles thee. What will hap more to-night, safe 'scape the king! Lurk, lurk.

[Exit.

SCENE VII-A room in Gloster's castle. Enter Cornwall, Regan, Goneril, Edmund, and Servants.

Corn. Post speedily to my lord your husband; show him this letter:-the army of France is landed: -Seek out the villain Gloster.

[Exeunt some of the Servants. Reg. Hang him instantly.

Gon. Pluck out his eyes.

Corn. Leave him to my displeasure.—Edmund, keep you our sister company; the revenges we are bound to take upon your traitorous father, are not fit for your beholding. Advise the duke, where you are going, to a most festinate preparation; we are bound to the like. Our posts shall be swift and intelligent betwixt us. Farewell, dear sister;-farewell, my lord of Gloster.3

(1) The great events that are approaching. (2) Betray, discover.

(3) Meaning Edmund, invested with his father's titles.

How now

Enter Steward.

? Where's the king?

Stew. My lord of Gloster hath convey'd him

hence :

Some five or six and thirty of his knights,
Hot questrists after him, met him at gate;
Who, with some other of the lord's dependants,
Are gone with him towards Dover; where they

boast

To have well-armed friends.

Corn.

Get horses for your mistress.

Gon. Farewell, sweet lord, and sister.

[Exeunt Goneril and Edmund.

Corn. Edmund, farewell.-Go, seek the traitor

Gloster,

Pinion him like a thief, bring him before us.

[Exeunt other Servants.

Though well we may not pass upon his life
Without the form of justice; yet our power
Shall do a courtesy2 to our wrath, which men
May blame, but not control. Who's there? The
traitor?

Re-enter Servants, with Gloster.

Reg. Ingrateful fox! 'tis he.

Corn. Bind fast his corky3 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. [Servants bind him.
Reg.
Hard, hard :-O filthy traitor!
Glo. Unmerciful lady as you are, I am none.
Corn. To this chair bind him:-Villain, thou
shalt find- [Regan plucks his beard.
Glo. By the kind gods, 'tis most ignobly done
To pluck me by the beard.

(1) Inquirers.
(3) Deceitful.

VOL. VIII.

D

(2) Bend to our wrath.

Reg. So white, and such a trailer!
Glo.

Naughty lady, chin,

These hairs, which thou dost ravish from

my

Will quicken, and accuse thee: I am your host;
With robbers' hands, my hospitable favours2
You should not ruffle thus. What will you do?
Corn. Come, sir, what letters had you late from
France?

Reg. Be simple-answer'd, for we know the truth.
Corn. And what confederacy have you with the
traitors

Late footed in the kingdom?

Reg. To whose hands have you sent the lunatic 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.

Reg.

Cunning.

Corn. Where hast thou sent the king?

Glo.
Reg.

And false.

To Dover. Wherefore

To Dover? Wast thou not charg'd at thy peril— Corn. Wherefore to Dover? Let him first answer

that.

Glo. I am tied to the stake, and I must stand the

course.

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 fangs.

The sea, with such a storm as his bare head
In hell-black night endur'd, would have buoy'd up,
And quench'd the stelled fires: yet, poor old heart,
He holp the heavens to rain.

If wolves had at thy gate howl'd that stern time, Thou should'st have said, Good porter, turn the key; (3) Starred.

(1) Live.

(2) Features.

All cruels else subscrib'd:1-But I shall see
The winged vengeance overtake such children.
Corn. See it shalt thou never :-Fellows, hold
the chair:

Upon these eyes of thine I'll set my foot.
[Gloster is held down in the chair, while Corn-
wall plucks out one of his eyes, and sets
his foot on it.

Glo. He, that will think to live till he be old, Give me some help :-O cruel! O ye gods! Reg. One side will mock another; the other too. Corn. If you see vengeance,

Serv.

Hold your hand, my lord. I have 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! [Draws, and runs at him. Serv. Nay, then come on, and take the chance

of anger.

[Draws. They fight. Cornwall is wounded. Reg. Give me thy sword.-[To another Servant.] A peasant stand up thus!

[Snatches a sword, comes behind, and stabs him. Serv. O, I am slain !-My lord, you have one eye left

To see some mischief on him :-O!

[Dies.

Corn. Lest it see more, prevent it :-Out, vile jelly!

Where is thy lustre now?

[Tears out Gloster's other eye, and throws it on the ground.

Glo. All dark and comfortless.-Where's my son Edmund?

Edmund, enkindle all the sparks of nature,

(1) Yielded, submitted to the necessity of the occasion.