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 firft, it fmells of mortality. Glo. O ruin'd piece of nature! this great world Shall so wear out to nought. Doft thou know me? Lear. I remember thine eyes well enough: do'ft thou fquint at me? No, do thy worst, blind Cupid; I'll not love. Read thou this challenge, mark but the penning

of it. 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?

[Afide.

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 case, your purfe in a light; yet you see 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 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 whipp'ft her. Th' ufurer hangs the co-
Through tatter'd cloaths fmall vices do appear; [zener.
Robes and furr'd gowns hide all. Plate fin with gold,
And the strong 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

G 2

Το

To fee the things thou dost not.

Now, now, now, now. Pull off my boots: harder, har.

der, fo.

Edg. O matter and impertinency mix'd, Reafon in madnefs!

Lear. If thou wilt weep my fortunes, take my eyes. 1 know thee well enough, thy name is Glo'fter; 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 stage of fools.-This a good block !.
It were a delicate ftratagem to fhoe

A troop of horfe with felt; I'll put't in proof;
And when I've ftoln upon these fons-in-law,
Then kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill.

SCENE VIII. Enter a Gentleman, with Attendants.

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

Lear. No refcue? what, a prifoner? I am even
The natural fool of Fortune. Ufe me well,
You fhall have ranfom. Let me have furgeons,
I am cut to th' brains.

Gent. You fhall have any thing..

Lear. No feconds? all myself?

Why, this would make a man, a man of salt :
To ufe his eyes for garden-water-pots,

And laying autumn's duft. I will die bravely,

Like a finug bridegroom. What? I will be jovial: Come, come I am a King. My mafters, know you that? Gent. You are a royal one, and we obey you.

Lear. Then there's life in't. Come, an' you get it,

You fhall get it by running: fa, fa, fa, fa.

[Exit.

Gent. A fight moft pitiful in the meaneft wretch, Paft fpeaking of in a King. Thou haft one daughter Who redeems nature from the general curfe Which twain have brought her to.

Edg. Hail, gentle Sir.

Gent. Sir, fpeed you: what's your will?

Edg.

Edg. Do you hear aught, Sir, of a battle toward ? Gent. Moft fure, and vulgar; every one hears that, Which can diftinguish found.

Edg. But by your favour, How near's the other army?

Gent. Near, and on fpeedy foot: the main defcry Stands on the hourly thought.

Edg. I thank you, Sir: that's all.

Gent. Though that the Queen on special cause is here,

Her

army

is mov'd on.

Edg. I thank

you, Sir.

[Exit.

Glo. You ever gentle gods, take my breath from me; Let not my worfer fpirit tempt me again

To die before you please!

Edg. Well pray you, father.

Glo. Now, good Sir, what are you?

Edg. A moit poor man, made tame to Fortune's blows; Who, by the art of known and feeling forrows,

Am pregnant to good pity. Give me your hand,
I'll lead you to fome biding.

Glo. Hearty thanks;

The bounty and the benizon of Heav'n
To boot, and boot !→

SCENE IX. Enter Steward.

Stew. A proclaim'd prize! moft happy! That eyelefs head of thine was firft fram'd flesh To raife my fortunes. Old unhappy traitor, Briefly thyfelf remember: the fword is out That must destroy thee.

Glo. Let thy friendly hand

Put ftrength enough to't.

Stew. Wherefore, bold peafant,

Dar'it thou fupport a publish'd traitor? Hence,
Left that th' infection of his fortune take

Like hold on thee. Let go. his arm.

Edg. Chill not let go, Zir, without vurther 'cafion.
Stew. Let go, flave, or thou dy'st..

Edg. Good gentleman, go your gate, and let poor volk pafs and 'chud ha' been zwagger'd out of my life, 'twould not ha' been zo long as 'tis by a vortnight. Nay, come not near th' old inan: keep out, che vor'ye,

G..3...

or ice try whether your coftard or my bat be the harder; chill be plain with you.

Stew. Out, dunghill!

Edg. Chill pick your teeth, Zir: come, no matter vor your foyns.

[Edgar knocks him down. Stew. Slave, thou haft flain me: villain, take my If ever thou wilt thrive, bury my body,

[purse; And give the letters which thou find'st about me, To Edmund Earl of Glo'fter: feek him out

Upon the English party: oh, untimely death!- [Dies.
Edg. I know thee well, a ferviceable villain;
As duteous to the vices of thy mistress,

As badnefs would defire.

Glo. What, is he dead?

Edg. Sit you down, father: reft you.

Let's fee thefe pockets; the letters that he fpeaks of,
May be my friends: he's dead; I'm only forry
He had no other death's-man. Let us fee-

By your leave, gentle wax-and manners blame us not.
To know our enemies' minds, we rip their hearts;
Their papers are more lawful.

Reads the letter.

Let our reciprocal vows be remembered. You have many opportunities to cut him off. If your will want not, time and place will be fruitfully offer'd. There is nothing done, if he return the conqueror: Then am I the prisoner, and his bed my goal; from the lothed warmth whereof deliver me, and fupply the place for your labour.

Your (wife, so I would say) affectionate servant,
GONERILL.

Oh, undiftinguifh'd space of woman's will † !
A plot upon her virtuous husband's life,

And the exchange my brother. Here, i' th' fands
Thee I'll rake up, the post unsanctified

Of murth'rous lechers: and in the mature time,
With this ungracious paper strike the fight

Of the death-practis'd Duke: for him 'tis well,
That of thy death and business I can tell.

Glo.

Meaning, that the variations in it are fo fudden, and their liking and lothing follow fo quick upon each other, that there is no diftinguifhing fpace between them.

Glo. The King is mad: how ftiff is my vile fenfe,
That I ftand up, and have ingenious feeling
Of my huge forrows! better I were distract,
So fhould my thoughts be fever'd from my griefs;

And woes, by wrong imaginations, lose
The knowledge of themfelves.

Edg. Give me your hand.

[Drum afar off

Far off, methinks, I hear the beaten drum.
Come, father, I'll beftow you with a friend.

SCENE X.

Changes to a chamber.

Enter Cordelia, Kent, and Phyfician.

[Exeunt.

Cor. O, thou good Kent, how fhall I live and work
To match thy goodness? life will be too short,
And ev'ry measure fail me.

Kent. To be acknowledg'd, Madam, is o'erpaid;
All my reports go with the modeft truth,
Nor more, nor clipt, but fo.

Cor. Be better fuited...

These weeds are memories of those worfer hours.

I pr'ythee, put them off.

Kent. Pardon, dear Madam,

Yet to be known, fhortens my laid intent;
My boon I make it, that you know me not,

Till time and I think meet.

Cor. Then be it so,

My Lord. How does the King? [To the Phyfician.

Phyf. Madam, fleeps still.

Cor. O you kind gods!

Cure this great breach in his abufed nature;

Th' untun'd and jarring fenfes, O, wind up

Of this child-changed father.

Phyf. Please your Majefty,

That we may wake the King? he hath slept long.
Cor. Be govern'd by your knowledge, and proceed
I' th' fway of
your own will. Is he array'd?

Enter Lear in a chair, carried by Servants.

Phyf. Ay, Madam; in the heaviness of sleep, We put fresh garments on him.

Be