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To quit this horrid act.

Reg. Out, treacherous villain ! Thou cali'st on him that hates thee: it was he That made the overture2 of thy treasons to us,

Who is too good to pity thee.

Glo.

Then Edgar was abus'd.

O my follies!

Kind gods, forgive me that, and prosper him!
Reg. Go, thrust him out at gates, and let him smell
His way to Dover.-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 dunghill.-Regan, I bleed apace :
Untimely comes this hurt: Give me your arm.

[Exit Cornwall, led by Regan;-Servants unbind Gloster, and lead him out. 1 Serv. I'll never care what wickedness I do, If this man comes to good. 2 Serv. If she live long, And, in the end, meet the old course of death, Women will all turn monsters.

1 Serv. Let's follow the old earl, and get the Bedlam3

To lead him where he would; his roguish madness Allows itself to any thing.

2 Serv. Go thou; I'll fetch some flax, and whites

of eggs,

To apply to his bleeding face.

him!

Now, heaven help [Exeunt severally.

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Than still contemn'd and flatter'd. To be worst,
The lowest, and most dejected thing of fortune,
Stands still in esperance,2 lives not in fear:
The lamentable change is from the best;
The worst returns to laughter. Welcome then,
Thou unsubstantial air, that I einbrace!

The wretch, that thou hast blown unto the worst, Owes nothing to thy blasts.-But who comes here?

Enter Gloster, led by an Old Man.

My father, poorly led?--World, world, O world! But that thy strange mutations3 make us hate thee, Life would not yield to age.

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

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

Thee they may hurt.

Old Man. Alack, sir, you cannot see your way.
Glo. I have no way, and therefore want no eyes;
I stumbled when I saw: Full oft 'tis seen,
Our mean secures us; and our mere defects
Prove our commodities.-Ah, dear 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!

Old Man.

How now? Who's there:

Edg. [Aside.] O gods! Who is't can say, I am at the worst?

I am worse than e'er I was.

Old Man.
'Tis poor mad Tom.
Edg. [Aside.] And worse I may be yet: The
worst is not,

(1) i. e. It is better to be thus contemned and know it, than to be flattered by those who secretly

contemn us.

(2) In hope.

(3) Changes.

So long as we can say, This is the worst.
Old Man. Fellow, where goest?

Glo.

Is it a beggar-man? Old Man. Madman and beggar too.

Glo. He has 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 boys, are we to the gods;
They kill us for their sport.

Edg.

How should this be?

Bad is the trade must play the fool to sorrow, Ang'ring itself and others. [Aside.]-Bless thee,

master!

Glo. Is that the naked fellow?

Old Man.

Ay, my lord.

Glo. Then, pr'ythee, get thee gone: If, for my

sake,

Thou wilt o'ertake us, hence a mile or twain,
I'the way to Dover, do it for ancient love;
And bring some covering for this naked soul,
Whom I'll entreat to lead me.

Old Man.

Alack, sir, he's mad. Glo. "Tis the time's plague, when madmen lead

the blind.

Do as I bid thee, or rather do thy pleasure;

Above the rest, be gone.

Old Man. I'll bring him the best 'parel that I have,

Come on't what will.

Glo. Sirrah, naked fellow.

[Exit.

Edg. Poor Tom's a-cold-I cannot daub1 it fur

ther.

Glo. Come hither. fellow.

[Aside.

Edg. [Aside. And yet I must.-Bless thy sweet

eyes, they bleed.

Glo. Know'st thou the way to Dover?

(1) Disguise.

Edg. Both stile and gate, horse-way, and footpath. Poor Tom hath been scared out of his good wits: Bless the good man from the foul fiend! Five fiends have been in poor Tom at once; of lust, as Obidicut; Hobbididance, prince of dumbness; Mahu, of stealing; Modo, of murder; and Flib. bertigibbet, of mopping and mowing; who since possesses chamber-maids and waiting-women. So, bless thee, master!

Glo. Here, take this purse, thou whom the heaven's plagues

Have humbled to all strokes: that I am wretched, Makes thee the happier :-Heavens, deal so still! Let the superfluous, and lust-dieted man,

That slaves your ordinance, that will not see Because he doth not feel, feel your power quickly; So distribution should undo excess,

And each man have enough.--Dost thou know Dover?

Edg. Ay, master.

Glo. There is a cliff, whose high and bending head

Looks fearfully in the 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 no leading need.

Edg

Poor Tom shall lead thee.

Give me thy arm;

[Exeunt. SCENE II-Before the Duke of Albany's pal ace. 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?

(1) i. e. To make it subject to us, instead of acting in obedience to it.

Stew. Madam, within; but neverman so chang'd: I told him of the army that was landed;

He smil'd at it: 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, seems pleasant to him;
What like, offensive.

Gon.

Then shall you go no further,

[To Edmund.

It is the cowish terror of his spirit,
That dares not undertake: he'll not feel wrongs,
Which tie him to an answer: Our wishes, on the

way,

May prove effects. Back, Edmund, to my brother;
Hasten his musters, and conduct his powers:
I must change arms at 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 in your own behalf,
A mistress's command. Wear this; spare speech;
[Giving a favour.
Decline your head: this kiss, if it durst speak,
Would stretch thy spirits up into the air;-

Conceive, and fare thee well.

Edm. Yours in the ranks of death.

Gon.

My most dear Gloster!

[Exit Edmund. O, the difference of man, and man! To thee A woman's services are due; my fool

Usurps my bed.

Stew.

Madam, here comes my lord.

[Exit Steward.

Enter Albany.

Gon. I have been worth the whistle.2

(1) i. e. Our wishes on the road may be completed.

(2) Worth calling for.

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