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thou whip'st her. The Ufurer hangs the Cozener.
Thorough tatter'd Cloaths, great Vices do appear;
Robes, and furr’d Gowns hide all. Place Sits with Gold,
And the strong Lance of Justice, hurtless breaks :
Arm it in Rages, and 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 she power
To seal the Accuser's lips. Get thee Glass Eyes,
And like a scurvy Politician, seem
To see the things thou do'st rot.
Now, now, now, now. Pull off my Boots: harder, harder, fo.

Edg. O matter, and impertinency mixt,
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'st, the first time that we linell the Air
We wawle, and cry. I will preach to thee: Mark

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 Stratagem to shooe
A Troop of Horse with felt; I'll put'c in prosf,
And when I have stoll’n upon these Son-in-Laws;
Then kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill.

Enter a Gentleman, with Attendants,
Gent. Oh here he is, lay hand upon him; Sir,
Your most dear Diughter

Lear. No rescue? what, a Prisoner? I am even
The natural Fool of fortune. Ule me well,
You shall have ransom. Let me have Surgeons,
I am cur to th' Brains.

Gent. You shall have any thing.

Lear. No Seconds ? All my self? Why, this would make a Man, a Man of Salt; To use his Eyes for Garden-Water-pors. I will die bravely, Like a smug Bridegroom. What? I will be Jovial: Come, come, I am a King. Masters, know you that ?

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

Lear. Then there's life in't. Come, and you get it, You shall get it by running: Şa, la, la, la. [Exit

. Gent.

Gent. A fight most pitiful in the meaneft wretch,
Past speaking of in a King. Thou hast a Daughter
Who redeems Nature from the general curse,
Which twain have brought her to.

Edg. Hail, gentle Sir.
Gent. Sir, speed you: what's your will?
Edg. Do you hear ought, Sir, of a Barcel toward.

Gent. Most sure, and vulgar:
Every one hears that, which can distinguish found.

Edg. But by your favour:
Ho v neai's the other Army?

Gerit. Near, and on speedy foot: the main discry
Stands on the hourly thought.

Edg. I thank you, Sir, that's all.

Gent. Though that the Queen on {pecial caule is here, Her Army is mov'd on.

[Exit. Edg. I'thank you, Sir.

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.
Glo. Now good Sir, what are you?

Edg. A most poor Man, made tame to Fortune's blows,
Who, by the Art of known, and feeling sorrows,
Am pregnant to good Pity. Give me your hand,
I'll lead you to Yome biding.

Glo. Hearty thanks;
The bounty, and the benizon of Heavia
To boot, and boot.

Enter Steward.
Stew. A proclaim'd prize; most happy;
That Eyeless Head of thine, was firitt fram’d flesh
To raise my Fortunes, Thou old, unhappy Traitor,
Briefly thy self remember: the Sword is out
That must deftroy thee.

Glo. Now let thy friendly hand
Put strength enough to't.

Stew. Wherefore, bold Peasant,
Dar’st thou support a publish'& Traitor? hence,
• Left that th' infection of his Fortune take
Like hold on thee. Let go his Arm.

Edg.

Edg. Chill not let go Zir, Without vurther 'casion,

Stew. Let go, Slave, or thou dy'st,

Edg. Good Gentleman, go your gate, and let poor volk pass: and 'chud ha' been zwagger'd out of my Life, 'twould not ha' been zo long as 'tis, by a vortnight. Nay, come not near th' old Man: Keep out che vor'ye, or ice try whether your Coftard, or my Ballow be the harder; chill be plain with you.

Stew. Out Dunghill.

Edg. Child pick your teeth Zir: come, no matter vor your foyns.

[Edgar knocks him down,
Stew. Slave thou hast Nain me: Villain, take my Purse;
If ever thou wilt thrive, bury my Body,
And give the Letters which thou fird's about me,
To Edmund Earl of Gloster : seek him out
Upon the English Party. Oh untimely death, death---[Dies.

Edg. I know thee well, a serviceable Villain ;
As duteous to the Vices of thy Mistress,
As badness would defire.

Glo. What, is he dead?

Edg. Sit you down, Father: rest you.
Let's see these Pockets; the Letters that he speaks of
May be my Friends: he's dead; I am only sorry
He had no other Deathsman, Let us seem
By your leave, gentle wax-and manners, blame us not,
To know our Enemies mirds, we rip their Hearts,
Their Papers are more lawful.

Reads the Letter.
E T our reciprocal Vows be remembred. You have many

opportunities to cut him off: if your will want not, time and place will be fruitfully offer’d. There is nothing done. If he return the Conqueror, then am I the Prisoner, and his Bed, my Goal, from the loathed warmth whereof, deliver me, and Supply the place of our Labour.

Tour (Wife, so I would say) affectionate

Servant, Gonerill.
Oh indistinguish'd space of Woman's will!
A plot upon her virtuous Husband's Life,
And the exchange my Brother: here, in the Sands

Thee

Thee I'll rake up, the Post unsanctified
Of murtherous Letchers and in the mature time,
With this ungracious Paper strike the fight
Of the death practisd Duke : for him 'cis well,
That of thy death, and bufiness, I can tell.

Glo. The King is mad; how ftiff is my vile Sense
That I ftand up, and have ingenious feeling
Of my huge Sorrows? Better. I were distract,
So should my Thoughts be sever'd from my Griefs.

[Drum afar off. And woes, by wrong imaginations, lose The Knowledge of themselves.

Edg. Give me your hand : Far off methinks I hear the beaten Drum, Come, Father, I'll bestow you with a Friend. [Excunt.

S CE N E

VI.

A Chamber.

Enter Cordelia, Kent, and Gentleman.
Cor. O thou good Kent, how shall I live and work
To match thy goodness 3 My Life will be too Mort,
And every measure fail me.

Kent. To be acknowledg'd, Madam, is o’erpaid,
All my reports go with the modest truth,
Nor more, nor clipt, but so.

Cor. Be better suited,
These weeds are memories of those worfer hours :
I prethee put them off.

Kent. Pardon, dear Madam,
Yet to be known fhorsens my made intent,
My boon I make it, that you know me not,
'Till time, and I think meet.

Cor. Then be't fo my good Lord,
How do's the King ?

Gent. Madam, Necps lill..

Cor. O you kind gods !
Cure this greac breach in his abused Nature;
Th' untun's and jarring Senses, O wind up,
Of this Child-changed Father.
VOL, V,

Hh

Gent,

Gent. So please your Majesty,
That we may wake the King,' he hath slept long?

Cor. Be govern’d by your knowledge, and proceed I'ch' sway of your own will : is he array'd ?

Enter Lear in a Chair, carried by Servants.
Gent. Ay Madam; in the scavinels of sleep,
We put fresh Garments on him,
Be by, good Madam, when we do awake him,
I doubt not of his Temperance.

Cor. O my dear Father, Restauration hang
Thy Medicine on my lips, and let this kiss
Repair those violent harms, that my two Sisters
Have in thy Reverence made.

Kent, Kind and dear Princess!

Cor. Had you not been their Father, these white flakes Did challenge picy of them. Was this Face To be oppos'd against the jarring winds? Mine Enemies Dog, though he had bit me, Should have stood chat Night against my fire : And wast thou fain, poor Father, To hovel thee with Swine and Rogues forlorn, In short, and musty Straw ? alack, alack, 'Tis wonder that thy life and wits, at once Had not concluded all. He wakes, speak to him.

Gent. Madam, do you, 'tis fittest.

Cor. How does my Royal Lord ? How fares your Majesty ?

Lear. You do me wrong to take me out o'th' Grave;
That art a Soul in bliss, but I am bound
Upon a whecl of fire, that mine own tears
Do scald like molten Lead,

Cor. Sir, do you know me?
Lear. You are a Spirit I know, when did

you

die ? Cor. Srill, still, far wide

Gent. He's scarce awake,
Let him alone a while.

Lear. Where have I been?
Where am I? fair day light?
I am mightily abus’d; I Thould even die with pity
To see another thus. I know not what to say ;
I will not swear these are my hands : let's fee,

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