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Glou. Edg.

Reg. Lord Edmund spake not with your Hark, do you hear the sea?

lord at home?

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Horrible steep.

Glou.
No, truly.
Edg. Why, then, your other senses grow
imperfect

By your eyes' anguish.
Glou.
So may it be, indeed :
Methinks thy voice is alter'd; and thou

speak'st

In better phrase and matter than thou didst. Edg. You're much deceived: in nothing am I changed

But in my garments.

Glou. Methinks you're better spoken. 10 Edg. Come on,sir; here's the place: stand still. How fearful

And dizzy 'tis, to cast one's eyes so low! The crows and choughs that wing the midway air

Show scarce so gross as beetles: half way down Hangs one that gathers samphire, dreadful

trade!

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Would I not leap upright. Glou.

for all beneath the

Let go my hand. Here, friend, 's another purse; in it a jewel Well worth a poor man's taking fairies and gods

Prosper it with thee! Go thou farther off; 30 Bid me farewell, and let me hear thee going. Edg. Now fare you well, good sir.

Glou. With all my heart. Edg. Why I do trifle thus with his despair Is done to cure it.

Glou. [Kneeling] O you mighty gods!
This world I do renounce, and, in your sights,
Shake patiently my great affliction off:
If I could bear it longer, and not fall

To quarrel with your great opposeless wills,
My snuff and loathed part of nature should
Burn itself out. If Edgar live, O, bless him!
Now, fellow, fare thee well. [He falls forward.
Edg.
Gone, sir farewell.
And yet I know not how conceit may rob
The treasury of life, when life itself
Yields to the theft: had he been where he
thought,

By this, had thought been past. Alive or dead?

Ho, you sir! friend! Hear you, sir! speak!
Thus might he pass indeed: yet he revives.
What are you, sir?

Glou.
Away, and let me die.
Edg. Hadst thou been aught but gossamer,
feathers, air,

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So many fathom down precipitating, Thou'dst shiver'd like an egg: but thou dost breathe;

Hast heavy substance; bleed'st not; speak'st; art sound.

Ten masts at each make not the altitude
Which thou hast perpendicularly fell:
Thy life's a miracle. Speak yet again.
Glou. But have I fall'n, or no?

Edg. From the dread summit of this chalky bourn.

Look up a-height; the shrill-gorged lark so far

Cannot be seen or heard: do but look up.
Glou. Alack, I have no eyes.

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Is wretchedness deprived that benefit, To end itself by death? 'Twas yet some comfort,

When misery could beguile the tyrant's rage, And frustrate his proud will.

Edg.

Give me your arm: Up: so. How is 't? Feel you your legs? You stand.

Glou. Too well, too well.

Edg.

This is above all strangeness.

Upon the crown o' the cliff, what thing was that

Which parted from you? A poor

Glou

unfortunate beggar.

Edg. As I stood here below, methought his eyes

Were two full moons; he had a thousand noses,

70 Horns wheĺk'd and waved like the enridged

sea:

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Enter LEAR, fantastically dressed with wild flowers.

The safer sense will ne'er accommodate
His master thus.

Lear. No, they cannot touch me for coining; I am the king himself.

Edg. O thou side-piercing sight!

Lear. Nature's above art in that respect. There's your press-money. That fellow handles his bow like a crow-keeper: draw me a clothier's yard. Look, look, a mouse! Peace, peace; this piece of toasted cheese will do 't. There's my gauntlet; I'll prove it on a giant. Bring up the brown bills. O, well flown, bird! i' the clout, i' the clout: hewgh! Give the word.

Edg. Sweet marjoram.
Lear.

Pass.

Glou. I know that voice.

Lear. Ha! Goneril, with a white beard! They flattered me like a dog; and told me I had white hairs in my beard ere the black ones were there. To say 'ay' and 'no' to every thing that I said 'Ay' 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 smelt 'em out. Go to, they are not men o' their words: they told me I was every thing; 'tis a lie, I am not ague-proof.

Glou. The trick of that voice I do well remember:

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Was kinder to his father than my daughters Got 'tween the lawful sheets.

To 't, luxury, pell-mell! for I lack soldiers. Behold yond simpering dame,

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Whose face between her forks presages snow;
That minces virtue, and does shake the head
To hear of pleasure's name;

The fitchew, nor the soiled horse, goes to 't
With a more riotous appetite.

Down from the waist 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's the sulphurous pit, 130

Burning, scalding, stench, consumption; fie, fie, fie! pah, pah! Give me an ounce of civet, good apothecary, to sweeten my imagination: there's money for thee.

Glou. O, let me kiss that hand!

Lear. Let me wipe it first; it smells of mortality.

Glou. 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.

Glou. Were all the letters suns, I could not

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