confumption;-Fie, fie, fie! pah; pah! Give me an ounce of civet, good apothecary, to sweeten my imagination: there's money for thee.

Glo. O, let me kifs that hand!

Lear. Let me wipe it firft; it smells of mortality. Glo. O ruin'd piece of nature! This great world Shall fo wear out to nought.-Doft thou know me?

Lear. I remember thine eyes well enough. Dost thou fquiny at me? No, do thy worst, blind Cupid; I'll not love. Read thou this challenge; mark but the penning of it.

Glo. Were all the letters funs, I could not fee one. Edg. I would not take this from report;—it is, And my heart breaks at it.

Lear. Read.

Glo. What, with the cafe of eyes?

Lear. O, ho, are you there with me? No eyes in your head, nor no money in your purfe? Your eyes are in a heavy cafe, your purse in a light: Yet you fee how this world goes.

Glo. I fee it feelingly.

Lear. What, art mad? A man may fee how this world goes, with no eyes. Look with thine ears: fee how yon' juftice rails upon yon' fimple thief. Hark, in thine ear: Change places; and, handy-dandy, which is the juftice, which is the thief?—Thou hast seen a farmer's dog bark at a beggar?

Glo. Ay, fir.

Lear. And the creature run from the cur? There thou might'ft behold the great image of authority: a dog's obey'd in office.—

Thou rascal beadle, hold thy bloody hand :

Why doft thou lash that whore? Strip thine own back
Thou hotly luft'st to use her in that kind

For

For which thou whipp'ft her. The ufurer hangs the cozener. Through tatter'd clothes fmall vices do appear;

Robes, and furr'd gowns, hide all. Plate fin with gold,
And the strong lance of justice hurtlefs breaks :

Arm it in rags, a pigmy's straw doth pierce it.
None does offend, none, I say, none; I'll able 'em :
Take that of me, my friend, who have the power
To feal the accufer's lips. Get thee glass eyes;
And, like a scurvy politician, seem

To fee the things thou dost not.-Now, now, now, now:
Pull off my boots :—harder, harder; so.

Edg. O, matter and impertinency mix'd!

Reason in madness !

Lear. If thou wilt weep my fortunes, take my eyes. I know thee well enough; thy name is Gloster: Thou must be patient; we came crying hither. Thou know'ft, the first time that we smell the air, We wawl, and cry:-I will preach to thee; mark me. Glo. Alack, alack the day!

Lear. When we are born, we cry, that we are come To this great stage of fools;- -This a good block ?— It were a delicate ftratagem, to shoe

A troop of horse with felt: I'll put it in proof;
And when I have stolen upon these fons-in-law,
Then, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill.

Enter a Gentleman, with Attendants.

Gent. O, here he is; lay hand upon him.-Sir,
Your most dear daughter—

Lear. No rescue? What, a prisoner? I am even
The natural fool of fortune.-Use me well;
You shall have ranfom. Let me have a furgeon,
I am cut to the brains.

Gent.

You shall have any thing.

Lear,

Lear. No feconds? All myself?

Why, this would make a man, a man of salt,
To use his eyes for garden water-pots,

Ay, and for laying autumn's duft.

Gent.

Good fir,

Lear. I will die bravely, like a bridegroom: What? I will be jovial; come, come; I am a king,

My masters, know you that?

Gent. You are a royal one, and we obey you.

Lear. Then there's life in it. Nay, an you get it, you fhall get it by running. Sa, fa, sa, sa.

[Exit, running; Attendants follow. Gent. A fight most pitiful in the meanest wretch; Past speaking of in a king!—Thou hast one daughter, Who redeems nature from the general curfe

Which twain have brought her to.

Edg. Hail, gentle fir.

Gent.

Sir, speed you: What's your will?

Edg. Do you hear aught, fir, of a battle toward ? Gent. Moft fure, and vulgar: every one hears that, Which can distinguish found.

Edg.

How near's the other army?

But, by your favour,

Gent. Near, and on speedy foot; the main descry Stands on the hourly thought.

Edg.

I thank you, fir: that's all.

Gent. Though that the queen on special cause is here, Her army is mov'd on.

Edg.

I thank you, fir.

[Exit Gent.

Glo. You ever-gentle gods, take my breath from me;

Let not my worfer spirit tempt me again

To die before you please!

Edg.

Well pray you, father.

Edg.

Glo. Now, good fir, what are you?

Edg. A moft poor man, made tame by fortune's blows; Who, by the art of known and feeling forrows,

Am pregnant to good pity. Give me your hand,
I'll lead you to some biding.

Glo.

Hearty thanks:

The bounty and the benizon of heaven

To boot, and boot!

Enter Steward.

Ster.

A proclaim'd prize! Moft happy!

That eyeless head of thine was first franı'd flesh
To raise my fortunes.-Thou old unhappy traitor,
Briefly thyfelf remember:-The sword is out

Dar'st thou fupport a publish'd traitor? Hence;

Left that the infection of his fortune take

Like hold on thee. Let go his arm.

Edg. Chill not let go, zir, without vurther 'casion.
Stew. Let go, flave, or thou diest.

Edg. Good gentleman, go your gait, and let poor volk pafs. And ch'ud ha' been zwagger'd out of my life, 'twould not ha' been zo long as 'tis by a vortnight. Nay, come not near the old man; keep out, che vor'ye, or ife try whether your coftard or my bat be the harder: Ch'ill be plain with you.

Stew. Out, dunghill!

Edg. Ch'ill pick your teeth, zir: Come; no matter vor your foins.

[They fight; and EDGAR knocks him down. Stew. Slave, thou haft flain me:-Villain, take my

purfe;

If

If ever thou wilt thrive, bury my body;

And give the letters, which thou find'st about me,
To Edmund earl of Glofter; seek him out

Upon the British party :-O, untimely death! [Dies.
Edg. I know thee well: A ferviceable villain;

As duteous to the vices of thy mistress,

As badnefs would defire.

Glo.

What, is he dead?

Edg. Sit you down, father; reft you.

Let's fee his pockets: these letters, that he speaks of,
May be my friends.-He's dead; I am only forry
He had no other death's-man.-Let us fee :-
Leave, gentle wax; and, manners, blame us not :
To know our enemies' minds, we'd rip their hearts;
Their papers, is more lawful.

[reads.] Let our reciprocal vows be remember'd. You have many opportunities to cut him off: if your will want not, time and place will be fruitfully offered. There is nothing done, if he return the conqueror: Then am I the prisoner, and his bed my gaol; from the loath'd warmth whereof deliver me, and Supply the place for your labour.

Your wife, (fo I would fay,) and your

affectionate fervant,

O undistinguish'd space of woman's will!—
A plot upon her virtuous husband's life;

Goneril.

And the exchange, my brother!-Here, in the fands,
Thee I'll rake up, the post unfanctified

Of murderous lechers: and, in the mature time,
With this ungracious paper strike the fight
Of the death-practis'd duke: for him 'tis well,
That of thy death and business I can tell.

[Exit EDGAR, dragging out the body. Glo. The king is mad: How stiff is my vile sense,

That