תמונות בעמוד

Be thy mouth or black or white,
Tooth that poisons if it bite ;
Mastiff, grey-hound, mungril grim,
Hound or spaniel, * brache, or hym;
Or bobtail tike, or trundle-tail,
Tom will make him weep and wail :
For, with throwing thus my head,
Dogs leap the hatch, and all are fled.
Do, de, de, de: Seley, come, march to wakes and

And market towns; poor Tom, thy horn is dry.

Lear. Then let them anatomize Regan--fee what breeds about her heart—Is there any cause in nature that makes these hard hearts? You, Sir, I entertain for one of my hundred; only, I do not like the fashion of your garments. You will say, they are Perfian; but let them be chang'd.

Re-enter Glo'fter. Kent. Now, good my lord, lie here and rest a while. Lear. Make no noise, make no noise, draw the

So, fo, we'll go to supper i'th' morning.

Fool. And I'll go to bed at noon.
Glo. Come hither, friend; where is the King, my

master? Kent, Here, Sir, but trouble him not; his wits are

Glo. Good friend, I pr’ythee, take him in thy arms:
I have o’er-heard a plot of death upon him:
There is a litter ready, lay him in't,
And drive tow'rd Dover, friend, where thou shalt meet
Both welcome and protection. Take up thy master.
If thou should'st dally half an hour, his life,
With thine, and all that offer to defend him,
Stand in assured loss. Take


-brache,,or hym, &c.] Names of particular Sorts of Dogs.

Mr. Pope.




And follow me, that will to some provision
Give thee quick conduct.

Kent. Opprest Nature sleeps :
This Rest might yet have blam'd thy broken Senses,
Which, if Conveniency will not hallow,
Stand in hard Cure. Come, help to bear thy Master;
Thou must not stay behind.

(To Fool. Glo. Come, come, away.

[Exeunt, bearing off the King.

Manet Edgar. Edg. When we our Betters fee bearing our Woes, We scarcely think our Miseries Who alone fuffers, suffers most i'th' Mind; Leaving free things, and happy Shows behind : But then the Mind much Suff'rance does o'erskip, When Grief hath Mates, and Bearing Fellowship. How light, and portable, my pain seems now, When That, which makes me bend, makes the King He childed, as I father'd! — Tom, away; [bow; Mark the high Noises, and thyself bewray, When false Opinion, whose wrong Thought defiles

thee, In thy just Proof repeals, and reconciles thee. What will, hap more to Night; safe 'scape the King! Lurk, Lurk.

Exit Edgar. S CE N E X.

Changes to Glo'ser's Castle. Enter Cornwall, Regan, Gonerill, Edmund, and

Servants. Corn. OST speedily to my lord your husband,

shew him this letter; the army of France is landed; seek out the traitor Gloster.

Reg. Hang him instantly.
Gon. Pluck out his eyes.
Corn. Leave him to my displeasure. Edmund, keep



you our Gifter company; the revenges we are bound to take upon your traiterous father, are not fit for your beholding. Advise the Duke, where you are going, to a molt festinate preparation; we are bound to the like. Our Pofts shall be swift, and intelligent betwixt us. Farewel, dear sister ; farewel, my

fifterlord of Gloʻster.

Enter Steward. How now? Where's the King ?

Stew. My lord of Gloster hath convey'd him hence.
Some five or fix and thirty of his Knights,
Hot Queftrists after him, met him at gate;
Who with some other of the Lords dependants,
Are gone with him tow'rd Dover; where they boast
To have well-armed friends.

Corn. Get horses for your mistress.
Gon. Farewel, sweet lord, and fifter.

[Exeunt Gon, and Edm. Corn. Edmund, farewel : go seek the traitor

Glo'fter ;
Pinion him like a thief, bring him before us :
Though well we may not pass upon his life
Without the form of justice; yet our pow'r
Shall do a court'sy to our wrath, which men
May blame, but not controul.

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Enter Glo'ster, brought in by Servants.
Who's there? the traitor ?

Reg. Ingrateful fox! 'tis he.
Corn. Bind fast his corky arms.
Glo. What mean your Graces? Good my Friends,

consider. You are my Guests : Do me no foul play, friends. Corn. Bind him, I say.

[They bind him. Reg. Hard, hard: O'filthy traitor!


Glo. Unmerciful lady as you are! I'm none.
Corn. To this chair bind him. Villain, thou shalt

Glo. By the kind gods, 'tis most ignobly done
To pluck me by the beard.

Reg. So white, and such a traitor ?

Glo. Naughty lady, These hairs, which thou dost ravish from my chin, Will quicken and accuse thee; I'm your Host; With robbers' hands, my hospitable favour You should not ruffle thus. What will


do? Corn. Come, Sir, what letters had you late from

France ? Reg. Be fimple-answer’d, for we know the truth. Corn. And what confed'racy have you with the

Late footed in the kingdom?

Reg. To whose hands
Have you sent the lunatic King ? fpeak.

Glo. I have a letter gueflingly fet down,
Which came from one that's of a neutral heart,
And not from one oppos’d.

Corn. Cunning
Reg. And falfe.
Gorn. Where hast thou sent the King?
Glo. To Dover.

Reg. Wherefore to Dover?
Walt thou not charg'd, at peril-

Corn. Wherefore to Dover? let him first answer that. Glo. I am tyd to th' flake, and I must stand the

course. Reg. Wherefore to Dover ?

Glo. Because I would not see thy cruel nails Pluck out his

eyes; nor thy fierce lifter In his anointed flesh stick boarish phangs. The sea, with such a storm as his bare head In hell-black night indur'd, would have boil'd up, And quench'd the ftelled fires;


poor old

"Yet poor old heart, he help'd the heav'ns to rain.
If wolves had at thy gate howl'd that stern time,
Thou should’st have said, go, porter turn the key;
All cruels else subscrib'd; but I shall see
The winged vengeance overtake such Children.

Corn. See't shalt thou never. Fellows, hold the chair. Upon these eyes of thine I'll set my foot. (Glo'ster is held down, while Cornwell treads out

one of his eyes, Glo. He, that will think to live 'till he be old, Give me some help.+0 cruel ! O you.gods!

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

Serv. Hold your hand, my lord:
I've serv'd you, ever since I was a child ;
But better service have I never done you,
Than now to bid


hold. Reg. How now, you dog ?

Serv. If you did wear a beard upon your chin, I'd shake it on this quarrel. What do you mean? Corn. My villain! Serv. Nay then come on, and take the chance of sanger.

[Fight; in the Scuffle Cornwall is wounded. Reg. Give me thy sword. A peasant stand up thus ?

(Kills him. Seru. Oh, I am slain-my lord, you have one eye

left To see some mischief on him. Oh

[Dies. Corn. Lest it see more, prevent it; out, vile gelly: Where is thy lustre now? [Treads the other out. Glo. All dark and comfortless—where's my son

Edmund ?
Edmund, en kindle all the sparks of nature
To quit this horrid act.

Reg. Out, treacherous villain.
Thou call'st on him, that hates thee: It was he,
That made the overture of thy treasons to us:
Vol. VII.



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