Reg. What might import my fifter's letter to him? Stew. I know not, lady. Reg. 'Faith, he is posted hence on serious matter. It was great ign'rance, Glofter's eyes being out, To let him live; where he arrives, he moves All hearts against us: Edmund, I think, is gone, In pity of his misery, to dispatch His nighted life: moreover, to descry The ftrength o'th' enemy. Stew. I muft needs after him, Madam, with my letter. Reg. Our troops set forth to-morrow: stay with us: The ways are dangerous. Stew. I may not, Madam ; My lady charg'd my duty in this business. Reg. Why fhould fhe write to Edmund? might not you Transport her purpofes by word? Belike, Something I know not what I'll love thee much Let me unfeal the letter. Stew. Madam, I had rather Reg. I know, your lady do's not love her husband: I'm fure of that; and, at her late being here, She gave œiliads, and most speaking looks To noble Edmund. I know, you're of her bofom. Stew. I, Madam ? Reg. I fpeak in underftanding: you are; I know't; Therefore, I do advise you, take this note. My lord is dead; Edmund and I have talk'd, And when your Mistress hears thus much from you, Ι pray, defire her call her wisdom to her. So fare wel. If you do chance to hear of that blind traitor, Preferment falls on him that cuts him off. Stew. 'Would I could meet him, Madam, Ifhould fhew What: Glo. The Country, near Dover. Enter Glo'fter, and Edgar as a Peafant. HEN fhall I come to th' top of that fame hill ? WH Edg. You do climb up it now. Look, how we la- Edg. Horrible steep. Hark, do you hear the fea? Glo. No, truly. [bour. Edg. Why then your other fenfes grow imperfect By your eyes' anguifh. Glo. So may it be, indeed. Methinks, thy voice is alter'd; and thou fpeak'ft But in my garments. Glo. Sure you're better spoken. Edg. Come on, Sir, here's the place-stand still. And dizzy 'tis, to caft one's eyes fo low ! The crows and choughs, that wing the midway air, Almoft too fmall for fight. The murmuring furge,. Glo. Glo. Set me, where you stand, Edg. Give me your hand: you're now within a foot Of th' extreme verge: for all below the moon Glo. Let go my hand: Here, friend, 's another purse, in it a Jewel Well worth a poor man's taking. Fairies, and Gods, Go thou further off, Profper it with thee! Bid me farewel, and let me hear thee going. Edg Now fare ye well, good Sir.. [Seems to go. Edg. Why do I trifle thus with his despair? "Tis done to cure it. Glo. O you mighty Gods! This world I do renounce; and in your fights To quarrel with your great opposeless Wills, Edg. Good Sir, farewel. [He leaps, and falls along. And yet I know not how Conceit may rob The treasury of life, when life itself Yields to the theft. Had he been where he thought, By this, had thought been paft. -Alive or dead? Hoa, you, hear you, friend! Sir! Sir! fpeak! Thus might he pass, indeed—yet he revives. What are you, Sir? Glo. Away, and let me die. Edg. Had'ft thou been aught but Gofs'mer, feathers, air, So many fathom down precipitating, Thou'd'll fhiver'd like an egg: but thou doft breathe, Haft heavy substance; bleed'st not; speak, art found? Ten *Ten mafts attacht make not the altitude, Edg. From the dread fummit of this chalky bourn! Look up a height, the fhrill-gorg'd Lark fo farCannot be feen or heard: do but look up. Glo. Alack, I have no eyes. Is wretchedness depriv'd that benefit, To end itself by death? 'twas yet fome comfort, Edg. Give me your arm. Up, fo-how is't? feel you your legs? you ftand. Glo. Too well, too well. Edg. This is above all ftrangeness: Upon the crown o'th' cliff, what thing was that, Glo. A poor unfortunate beggar. Edg. As I ftood here, below, methought, his eyes Were two full moons; he had a thousand noses, + Horns welk'd, and wav'd like the enridged fea: It was fome fiend. Therefore, thou happy father, Think, that the clearest gods, who make them honours Of men's impoffibilities, have preferv'd thee. Glo. I do remember now: henceforth I'll bear. Affliction, 'till it do cry out itself, Enough, enough, and die. That thing you speak of, Ten mafs at each make not the altitude.] So Mr. Pope found it in the old Editions; and feeing it corrupt, judiciously corrected it to attacht. But Mr. Theobald reftores again the old Nonfenfe, at each. + Horns welk'd,] i. e. twifted. Mr. Pope. SCENE Enter Lear, dreft madly with flowers. But who comes here? The fober fenfe will ne'er accommodate Lear. No, they cannot touch me for coining: F am the King himself. Edg. O thou fide-piercing fight! Lear. Nature's above art in that refpect. There's your prefs-money. That fellow handles his bow like a crow-keeper: draw me a clothier's yard. Look, look, a mouse! Peace, peace;-this piece of toafted cheese will do't-there's my gauntlet, I'll prove it on a giant. Bring up the brown bills. O, well flown, Barb! i'th' clout, i'th clout; hewgh.-Give. the word. Edg. Sweet marjoram Lear. Pafs. Glo. I know that voice. Lear. Ha! Gonerill! ha! Regan! they flatter'd me like a dog, and told me, I had white hairs in my beard, ere the black ones were there. To say ay, and no, to every thing that I faid—Ay, and no, too was no good divinity. When the rain came to wet me once, and the wind to make me chatter; when the thunder would not peace at my bidding; there I found 'em, there I fmelt 'em out. Go to, they are not men a' their words; they told me I was every thing: 'tis a lie, I am not ague-proof. Glo. The trick of that voice I do well remember: Is't not the King? Lear. Ay, every inch a King. When I do ftare, fee, how the fubject quakes. ́ I pardon that man's life. What was the cause ? Adultery? thou fhalt not die; die for adultery? no, the wren goes to't, and the finall gilded flie does letcher in |