Edg. [Afide.] And worse I may be yet: The worst is not, So long as we can say, This is the worst.

Old Man. Fellow, where goeft?

Glo.

Is it a beggar-man ?

Old Man. Madman and beggar too.

Glo. He has fome reason, else he could not beg. I' the last night's storm I fuch a fellow faw;

Which made me think a man a worm: My fon

Came then into my mind; and yet my mind

Was then scarce friends with him: I have heard more

fince:

As flies to wanton boys, are we to the gods;

They kill us for their sport.

Edg.

How fhould this be?

Bad is the trade must play the fool to forrow,

Ang'ring itself and others. [Afide.]-Blefs thee, inafter! Glo. Is that the naked fellow?

Old Man.

Ay, my lord.

Glo. Then, pr'ythee, get thee gone: If, for my fake, Thou wilt o'ertake us, hence a mile or twain, I' the way to Dover, do it for ancient love; And bring fome covering for this naked foul, Whom I'll entreat to lead me.

Old Man.

Alack, fir, he's mad.

Glo. 'Tis the times' plague, when inadmen 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 'parrel that I have, Come on't what will.

[Exit.

Glo.

Glo. Sirrah, naked fellow.

Edg. Poor Tom's a-cold.—I cannot daub it further.

Glo. Come hither, fellow.

[Afide.

Edg. [Afide.] And yet I must.-Bless thy fweet eyes, they bleed.

Glo. Know'ft thou the way to Dover?

Edg. Both ftile and gate, horfe-way, and foot-path. Poor Tom hath been fcared out of his good wits: Bless the good man from the foul fiend! Five fiends have been in poor Tom at once; of luft, as Obidicut; Hobbididance, prince of dumbness: Mabu, of stealing; Modo, of murder; and Flibbertigibbet, of mopping and mowing; who fince poffeffes chamber-maids and waiting-women. Só, Blefs 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 fuperfluous, and luft-dieted man,

That flave's your ordinance, that will not see
Because he doth not feel, feel your power quickly;

So diftribution fhould undo excess,

And each man have enough.-Doft thou know Dover? Edg. Ay, mafter.

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

Looks fearfully in the confined deep:

Bring me but to the very brim of it,

And I'll repair the mifery thou dost bear,

With fomething rich about me: from that place

SCENE II.

Before the duke of ALBANY's Palace.

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 mafter?
Stew. Madam, within; but never man fo chang'd:
I told him of the army that was landed;

He fmil'd at it: I told him, you were coming;
His answer was, The worfe: of Glofter's treachery,
And of the loyal fervice of his fon,

When I inform'd him, then he call'd me fot;
And told me, I had turn'd the wrong fide out:-
What most he should dislike, feems pleasant to him;
What like, offenfive.

Gon.

Then fhall you go no further.

It is the cowish terror of his spirit,

[To EDMUND.

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;
Haften his multers, and conduct his powers:

I must change arms at home, and give the distaff
Into my husband's hands. This trusty servant

Shall pafs between us: ere long you are like to hear,
dare venture in your own behalf,

you

If
A miftreffes command. Wear this; spare speech;

[giving a favour.

Decline your head: this kifs, if it durft fpeak,
Would stretch thy fpirits up into the air ;-
Conceive, and fare thee well.

Edm. Yours in the ranks of death.

Con

Gon.

[Exit EDMUND.

My most dear Glofter!

O, the difference of man, and man! To thee
A woman's fervices are due; my fool

Ufurps my bed.

O Goneril!

You are not worth the dust which the rude wind

Blows in your face.-I fear your disposition:
That nature, which contemns its origin,
Cannot be border'd certain in itself;

She that herself will fliver and disbranch
From her material fap, perforce must wither,
And come to deadly use.

Gon. No more; the text is foolish.

Ab. Wisdom and goodness to the vile seem vile :
Filths favour but themselves. What have you done?
Tigers, not daughters, what have you perform'd?
A father, and a gracious aged man,

Whose reverence the head-lugg'd bear would lick,
Most barbarous, most degenerate! have you madded.
Could my good brother fuffer you to do it?
A man, a prince, by him fo benefited?
If that the heavens do not their visible spirits
Send quickly down to tame these vile offences,
'Twill come,

Humanity must perforce prey on itself,

Like monsters of the deep.

Gon.

Milk-liver'd man!

That bear'st a cheek for blows, a head for wrongs;

Who

Who haft not in thy brows an eye difcerning
Thine honour from thy fuffering; that not know'ft,
Fools do thofe villains pity, who are punish'd

Ere they have done their mischief. Where's thy drum'
France spreads his banners in our noiseless land;
With plumed helm thy flayer begins threats;
Whilft thou, a moral fool, fit'ft ftill, and cry'st,
Alack! why does he fo?

Alb.

See thyfelf, devil!

Proper deformity seems not in the fiend

So horrid, as in woman.

Alb. Thou changed and self-cover'd thing, for fhame, Be-monster not thy feature. Were it my fitness To let these hands obey my blood,

They are apt enough to dislocate and tear

Thy flesh and bones :-How'er thou art a fiend,
A woman's fhape doth shield thee.

Gon. Marry, your manhood now!

Enter a Meffenger.

Alb. What news?

Mef. O, my good lord, the duke of Cornwall's dead; Slain by his fervant, going to put out

The other eye of Glofter.

Alb.

Glofter's eyes!

Mef. A fervant that he bred, thrill'd with remorse,
Oppos'd against the act, bending his sword

To his great mafter; who, thereat enrag'd,
Flew on him, and amongst them fell'd him dead :
But not without that harmful ftroke, which fince
Hath pluck'd him after.

Alb.

This fhows you are above,

You jufticers, that these our nether crimes