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Almoft too small for fight. The murmuring furge,
That on th' unnumbred idle pebbles chafes,
Cannot be heard fo high. I'll look no more,
Let my brain turn, and the deficient fight,...
Topple down headlong.

Gl. Set me, where you stand.

Edg. Give me your hand: you're now within a foot Of th' extream verge: for all below the moon Would I not leap upright.

Glo. Let go my hand:

Here, friend,'s another purfe, in it a Jewel

Well worth a poor man's taking. Fairies, and Gods,
Profper it with thee! Go thou further off,

Bid me farewel, and let me hear thee going."
Edg. Now fare ye well, good Sir.

Glo. With all my heart.

[Seems to go.

Edg. Why do I trifle thus with his despair? "Tis done to cure it.

Glo. O you mighty Gods!

This world I do renounce; and in your fights
Shake patiently my great affliction off:
If I could bear it longer, and not fall

To quarrel with your great opposeless Wills,
My fnuff and loathed part of nature should
Burn itfelf out. If Edgar live, O bless him!

Now, fellow, fare thee well. [He leaps, and falls along.
Edg. Good Sir, farewel.

And yet I know not how conceit may rob

The treafury of life, when life itself

Yields to the theft. Had he been where he thought,

By this, had thought been past.

-Alive or dead?

Hoa, you, hear you, friend! Sir! Sir! fpeak!
Thus might he pafs, indeed-yet he revives.
What are you, Sir?

Glo. Away, and let me die.

Edg. Had't thou been aught but Gofs'mer, feathers, air, So many fathom down precipitating,

Thou'dft fhiver'd like an egg: but thou doft breathe, Haft heavy fubftance, bleed'ft not; fpeak, art found?

Ten

Ten mafts at each make not the altitude,
Which thou haft perpendicularly fall'n.
Thy life's a miracle. Speak yet again.
Glo. But have I fall'n, or no?

Edg. From the dread fummit of this chalky bourn! Look up a-height, the fhrill-gorg'd Lark fo far Cannot be seen or heard: do but look up.

Glo. Alack, I have no eyes.

Is wretchedness depriv'd that benefit,

To end itself by death? 'twas yet fome comfort,
When mifery could beguile the tyrant's rage,
And fruftrate his proud will.

Edg. Give me your arm.

Up, fo-how is't? feel you your legs? you ftand. Glo. Too well, too well.

Edg. This is above all ftrangeness.

Upon the crown o'th' cliff, what thing was that,
Which parted from you?

Glo. A poor unfortunate beggar.

Edg. As I ftood here, below, methought his eyes Were two full moons; he had a thoufand nofes, Horns welk'd, and wav'd like the enridged fea; It was fome fiend. Therefore, thou happy father, Think, that the cleareft gods, who make them honours Of men's impoffibilities, have preferv'd thee.

Glo. I do remember now: henceforth I'll bear

Affliction, till it do cry out itself,

Enough,, enough, and die. That thing you speak of, I took it for a man; often 'twould fay.

The fiend, the fiend

-he led me to that place.

Edg. Bear free and patient thoughts.

Enter Lear, dreft madly with flowers.

But who comes here?

The fafer fenfe will ne'er accommodate

His mafter thus.

Lear. No, they cannot touch me for coining: I am

the King himself.

Edg. O thou fide-piercing fight!

Lear.

Lear. Nature's above art in that refpect. There's your prefs-money. (25) That fellow handles his bow like a crow-keeper: draw me a clothier's yard. Look, look, a mouse! Peace, peace ;-this piece of toafted cheese will do't there's my gaunlet, I'll prove it on a giant, Bring up the brown bills. O, well flown, Barb! (26) i'th' clout, i'th' clout: hewgh.- Give the word.

Edg. Sweet marjoram.

Lear. Pafs.

Glo. I know, that voice.

Lear. Ha! Gonerill! hah! Regan! they flatter'd me like a dog, and told me, I had white hairs in my beard, ere the black ones were there. To fay ay, and no, to every thing that I faid-4y, and no, too was no good divinity. When the rain came to wet me once, and the wind to make me chatter; when the thunder would not peace at my bidding; there I found 'em, there I fmelt 'em out. Go to, they are not men o' their words; they told me I was every thing: 'tis a lye, I am not agueproof.

Glo. The trick of that voice I do well remember: Is't not the King?

Lear. Ay, every inch a King.

When I do ftare, fee, how the fubject quakes.
I pardon that man's life. What was the cause?
Adultery thou fhalt not die; die for adultery? no, the
wren goes to't, and the fmall gilded fly does letcher in

(25) That Fellow handles his Bow like a Cowkeeper.] Thus Mr. Pope in his laft Edition; but, I am afraid, I betray'd him into the Error by an abfurd Conjecture of my own, in my SHAKESPEARE reftored, 'Tis certain we must read Crkeeper here; and, it seems, in feveral Counties to this Day, they call a tuff d Figure, reprefenting a Man, and arm'd with a Bow and Arrow, (iet up to fright the Crows, and other Birds of Prey, from the Fruit and Corn;) a Crowheeper; as well as a Scare-crow.

(26) O well flown Bird,] Lear is here raving of Archery, and fhooting at Butts, as is plain by the Words i'th Clout, that is the white Mark they fet up and aim at; hence the Phrafe, to bit the White. So that we must certainly read, O well flown, Barb! i. e. the barbed, or bearded Arrow. Mr. Warburton.

my

my fight. Let copulation thrive: for Glo'fter's baftardfon was kinder to his father, than my daughter's got 'tween the lawful fheets. To't, luxury, pell-mell; for I lack foldiers. Behold yond fimpering Dame, whofe face 'tween her forks prefages fnow; that minces virtue, and does shake the head to hear of pleafure's name. The fitchew, nor the foiled horfe, goes to't with a more riotous appetite: down from the waifte they are centaurs, though women all above: but to the girdle do the gods inherit, beneath is all the fiends. There's hell, there's darkness, there is the fulphurous pit, burning,, fcalding, ftench, confumption: fy, fy, fy; pah, pah; give me an ounce of civet, good apothecary, to fweeten my imagination! there's money for thee.

Glo. O, let me kifs that hand.

Lear. Let me wipe it first, it fmells of mortality. Glo. O ruin'd piece of nature! this great world Shall fo wear out to nought. Do'st thou know me?

Lear. I remember thine eyes well enough: doft thou fquiny at me? no, do thy worst, blind Čupid; I'll not love.Read thou this challenge,mark but the penning ofit..

Glo. Were all the letters funs, I could not fee one. Edg. I would not take this from report; it is, And my heart breaks at it.

Lear. Read.

Glo. What, with this cafe of eyes?

Lear. Oh, ho, are you there with me? no eyes in your head, nor no money in your purfe? your eyes are in a heavy cafe, your purfe in a light; yet you fee how this world goes.

Glo. I fee it feelingly.

Lear. What, art mad? a man may fee how this world goes, with no eyes, Look with thine ears: fee, how yond juftice rails upon yond fimple thief. Hark in thine ear change places, and handy-dandy, which is the juftice, which is the thief? Thou haft feen a farmer's dog bark at a beggar.

Glo. Ay, Sir.

Lear. And the creature run from the cur? there thou

might'ft

might'ft behold the great image of authority; a dog's obey'd in office.

Thou rafcal beadle, hold thy bloody hand :

Why doft thou lafh that whore? ftrip thy own back;
Thou hotly luft'ft to use her in that kind,

For which thou whip'ft her. Th' ufurer hangs the cożener.
Through tatter'd cloaths fmall vices do appear;
Robes and furr'd gowns hide all. Plate fin with gold,
And the ftrong lance of juftice hurtlefs breaks :
Arm it in rags, a pigmy's ftraw doth pierce it.
None does offend, none, I fay, none; I'll able 'em;
Take that of me, my friend, who have the pow'r
To feal th' accufer's lips. Get thee glass eyes,
And, like a fcurvy politician, feem

To fee the things thou doft not.

Now, now, now,now. Pull off my boots: harder, harder,fo. Edg. O matter and impertinency mixt,

Reason in madness!

Lear. If thou wilt weep my fortunes, take my eyes. I know thee well enough, thy name is Glofter; Thou must be patient; we came crying hither: Thou know'ft, the first time that we smell the air, We wawle and cry. I will preach to thee: markGlo. Alack, alack the day!

Lear. When we are born, we cry, that we are come To this great ftage of fools.-This a good block!It were a delicate ftratagem to shoe

A troop of horse with felt; I'll put't in proof;
And when I've ftol'n upon thefe fons-in-law,
Then kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill.

Enter Gentlemen with Attendants.

Gent. O, here he is, lay hand upon him; Sir, Your moft dear daughter

Lear. No refcue? what, a prifoner? I am even The natural fool of fortune. Ufe me well,

You fhall Bave ranfom.

I am cut to th' brains.

Let me have furgeons,

Gent. You shall have any thing.

Lear.

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