Who is too good to pity thee. Then Edgar was abus'd. Me that, and profper him! Reg. Go thrust him out Kind gods, forgive At gates, and let him smell his way to Dover. How is't, my lord, how look you? Exit with Glo'fter. Corn. I have receiv'd a hurt; follow me, lady.-Turn out that eyelefs villain; throw this flave Upon the dung-hill.-Regan, I bleed apace. Untimely comes this hurt. Give me your arm. [Exit Corn. led by Regan. 1 Serv. I'll never care what Wickedness I do, If this Man come to Good. 2 Serv. If She live long, And, in the End, meet the old courfe of Death, 1 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. 2 Serv. Go thou; I'll fetch fome Flax and whites of Eggs T' apply to's bleeding Face. Now, heav'n help him! [Exeunt feverally. ACT IV. SCENE I. An open Country. Enter EDGAR. ET better thus, and known to be contemn'd, YET better and d and flatter d. To be worft, The loweft, moft dejected thing of Fortune, The The worst returns to laughter. Welcome then, The wretch, that thou haft blown unto the worst, Enter Glo'fter, led by an old man. But who comes here? My father poorly led? World, world, O world! But that thy ftrange Mutations make us hate thee, Life would not yield to age. Old Man. O my good Lord, I have been your tenant, and father's tenant, these fourscore years. your 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 secures us; and our mere defecs Prove our commodities.-Q dear fon Edgar, The food of thy abused father's wrath; Might I but live to see 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 worst? I'm worse, than e'er I was. Old Man. 'Tis poor mad Tom. Edg. And worfe I may be yet; the worft is not, So long as we can fay, 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'th' laft night's ftorm I fuch a fellow faw; My fon Came then into my mind; and yet my mind. fince, As flies to wanton boys, are we to th' Gods; Edg. How fhould this be? Bad is the trade muft play the fool to forrow, Bless thee, mafter. my fake, Glo. Is that the naked fellow? Glo. Get thee away: if, for 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; Bless thy fweet eyes, they bleed. Glo. Know'st thou the way to Dever? Edg. Both ftile and gate, horfe-way and foot-path: poor Tom hath been scar'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 dumbnefs; Mahu, of ftealing; Mohu, of murder; and Flibbertigibbet, of mopping and mowing; who fince poffeffes chamber-maids and waiting-women. Glo. Here, take this purse, thou whom the heavens' plagues Have humbled to all ftrokes. That I am wretched, Makes thee the happier: heavens deal so ftill! * I cannot daub it-] i. e. Difguise. Let Let the fuperfluous, and luft dieted man, That braves your ordinance, that will not fee Because he do's not feel, feel your power quickly : So diftribution fhall 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 on the confined deep: Bring me but to the very brim of it, And I'll repair the misery, thou dost bear, Gon. SCENE [Exeunt II The Duke of Albany's Palace, Enter Gonerill, and Edmund. WELCOME, my lord. I marvel, our mild hufband WELC Not met us on the way. Enter Steward. Now, where's your Master? Stew. Madam, within; but never man fo chang'd: When I inform'd him, then he call'd me fot; Gon. Then fhall you go no further. It is the cowish terror of his fpirit, 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 mufters, and conduct his powers. I muft change arms at home, and give the distaff Into my husband's hands. This trusty servant Shall pafs between us: you ere long shall hear, If you dare venture in your own behalf, A miftrefs's command. Wear this; fpare speech; Decline your head. This kifs, if it durft speak, Would stretch thy fpirits up into the air: Conceive, and fare thee well. Edm. Yours in the ranks of death. Gon. My moft dear Glofter! [Exit Edmund. Oh, the ftrange difference of man, and man! To thee a woman's fervices are due, My fool ufurps my body, Stew. Madam, here comes my lord. Enter Albany. Gon. I have been worth the whifle. Alb. Oh, Gonerill, You are not worth the duft which the rude wind Cannot be border'd certain in itself; Gon. No more; 'tis foolish. Alb. Wisdom and goodness to the vile seem vile ; Filths favour but themfelves done; What have you Tygers, not daughters, what have you perform'd? Moft barb'rous, moft degenerate, have you madded. If that the heav'ns do not their visible Spirits. Send |