Reg. One fide will mock another; th' other too.
Corn. If you fee vengeance

Serv. Hold your hand, my lord :

I've ferv'd you, ever fince I was a child;
But better fervice have I never done you,
Than now to bid you hold.

Reg. How now, you dog?

Serv. If you did wear a beard upon your chin,
I'd fhake it on this quarrel.
Corn. My villain!

Serv. Nay then come on,
[Fight; in the
Reg. Give me thy fword.

Serv. Oh, I am flain eye left

What do you mean?

and take the chance of anger. Scuffle Cornwall is wounded. A peasant stand up thus ?

[Kills him.

my lord, you have one

To fee fome mischief on him. Oh

Corn. Left it fee more, prevent it; out, vile gelly:

Where is thy luftre now?

Glo. All dark and comfortless:

Edmund?

[Dies.

Edmund, enkindle all the sparks of nature

To quit this horrid act.

Reg. Out, treacherous villain.

Thou call'ft on him, that hates thee: It was he,
That made the overture of thy treasons to us;

Who is too good to pity thee.

Glo. O my follies!

Then Edgar was abus'd. Kind gods, forgive

Me that, and prosper him!

Reg. Go thruft him out

At gates, and let him fmell his way to Dover.

How is't, my lord, how look you?

Corn. I have receiv'd a hurt ;

[Ex. with Glofter,

follow me, lady.

Turn out that eyeless villain; throw this flave

Upon the dunghil.

Untimely comes this hurt.

Regan, I bleed apace.
Give me your arm.
[Exit Corn. led by Regan.
ift. Serv.

f. Serv. I'll never care what Wickedness I do (19) If this Man come to Good.

2d. Serv. If fhe live long,

And, in the End, meet the old courfe of Death,
Women will all turn Monsters.

ift. Serv. Let's follow the old Earl, and get the
Bedlam

To lead him where he would; his roguish Madness
Allows itself to any Thing.

2d. Serv. Go thou; I'll fetch fome Flax and whites of Eggs

T' apply to's bleeding Face. Now, Heaven help him! [Exeunt feverally.

Y

A CT IV.

SCENE, an open Country.

Enter EDGAR.

ET better thus, and known to be contemn'd,
Than ftill contemn'd and flatter'd. To be worf,
The loweft, moft dejected thing of Fortune,

Stands ftill in efperance; lives not in fear.
The lamentable change is from the beft;
The worst returns to laughter.

Welcome then,

Thou unfubftantial air, that I embrace!

The wretch, that thou haft blown unto the worst,
Owes nothing to thy blasts.

(19) I'll never care what Wickedness I do,] This short Dia logue I have inferted from the Old Quarto, because I think It full of Nature. Servants, in any Houfe, could hardly fee fuck a Barbarity committed on their Master, without Reflexions of Pity; and the Vengeance that they presume must overtake the Actors of it, is a Sentiment and Doctrine well worthy of the Stage.

Enter

Enter Glo'fter, led by an old man.

But who comes here?

My father poorly led? World, world, O world! (20) But that thy ftrange Mutations make us wait 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. You cannot fee your way.

Glo. I have no way, and therefore want no eyes:. I ftumbled when I faw. Full oft 'tis feen,

Our mean fecures us; and our meer defects

Prove our commodities.

O dear fon Edgar,

The food of thy abused father's wrath ;

Might I but live to fee thee in my Touch,

I'd fay, I had eyes again!

Old Man. How now? who's there?

Edg. O Gods! who is't can fay, I'm at the work? I'm worse, than e'er I was.

Old Man. 'Tis poor mad Tom.

Edg. And worfe I may be yet: the worst is not, So long as we can fay, this is the worst.

(20)

World, World, O World!

But that thy frange Mutations make us hate thee,] The Reading of this Paffage, as it has thus ftood in all the Editions, has been endeavour'd to be explain'd feverally into a Meaning; but not fatisfactorily. Mr. Pope's mock-reasoning upon it has already been rallied in Print, fo I forbear to revive it: and the Gentleman, who then advanced a Comment of his own upon the Paffage, has fince come over to my Emendation. My Explanation of the Poet's Sentiment was, "If the Num "ber of Changes and Viciffitudes, which happen in Life, "did not make us wait, and hope for fome Turn of For"tune for the better, we could never fupport the Thought of "living to be Old, on any other Terms." And our Duty, as human Creatures, is piously inculcated in this Reflexion of the Author.

Old.

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'th' laft night's ftorm I such a fellow saw;

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've heard more fince.
As flies to wanton boys, are we to th' Gods;
They kill us for their sport.

Edg. How fhould this be?

Bad is the trade muft play the fool to forrow,

Ang'ring it felf and others.

-Bless thee, master.

Glo. Is that the naked fellow?

Old Man. Ay, my lord.

Glo. Get thee away: if, for my fake,
Thou wilt o'ertake us hence a mile or twain
I'th' way tow'rd Dover, do it for ancient love
And bring fome Covering for this naked foul,
Whom I'll intreat to lead me.

Old Man. Alack, Sir, he is mad.

Glo. 'Tis the time's plague, when madmen lead the blind:

Do as I bid, or rather do thy pleasure ;

Above the reft, be gone.

Old Man. I'll bring him the best 'parrel that I have,

Come on't, what will.

Glo. Sirrah, naked fellow.

[Exit.

Edg. Poor Tom's a-cold; — I cannot daub it further.
Glo. Come hither, fellow.

Edg. And yet I muft;

Blefs thy fweet eyes, they bleed.

Glo. Know'st thou the way to Dover?

Edg. Both ftile and gate, horfe-way and foot-path : poor Tom hath been fear'd out of his good wits. Blefs = thee, good man, from the foul fiend. Five fiends have been in poor Tom at once; of Luft, as Obidicut, Hobbididen, Prince of dumbness; Mahu, of ftealing; Mobu, of murder; and Flibbertigibbet, of mopping and mowVOL. VI.

D

ing;

ing; who fince poffeffes chamber-maids and waiting

women.

Glou. Here, take this purse, thou whom the heavens' plagues

Have humbled to all ftrokes. That I am wretched,
Makes thee the happier: heavens deal fo ftill!
Let the fuperfluous, and luft-dieted man,

That flaves your ordinance, that will not fee
Because he do's not feel, feel your power quickly :

So diftribution fhould undo excefs,

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

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

I fhall no leading need.

Edg. Give me thy arm;

Poor Tom fhall lead thee.

Gon.

[Exeunt.

SCENE, the Duke of Albany's Palace.

Enter Gonerill, and Edmund.

7ELCOME, my lord. I marvel, our mild husband

WELCO

Not met us on the way.

Enter Steward.

Now, where's your Master?

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.