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! Corn. I have receiv'd a hurt:-Follow me, lady. Turn out that eyeless villain;-throw this slave [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. Than still contemn'd and flatter'd. To be worst, 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. Might I but live to see thee in my touch, 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. (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. Glo. Is it a beggar-man? Old Man. Madman and beggar too. Glo. He has some reason, else he could not beg. As flies to wanton boys, are we to the gods; 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, 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, With something rich about me: from that place 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; When I inform'd him, then he call'd me sot; Gon. Then shall you go no further, [To Edmund. It is the cowish terror of his spirit, way, May prove effects. Back, Edmund, to my brother; 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. |