To be worst, Than still contemn'd and flatter'd. Enter GLOSTER, led by an old Man. My father, poorly led ?-World, world, O world! But that thy strange mutations make us hate thee, Life would not yield to age. Old Man. O my good lord! I have been your tenant, and your father's tenant, these fourscore years. Glo. Away, get thee away; good friend, be gone: Thy comforts can do me no good at all; Thee they may hurt. Old Man. Alack, sir! you cannot see your way. Glo. I have no way, and therefore want no eyes: I stumbled when I saw. Full oft 'tis seen, Our means secure us; and our mere defects Prove our commodities.-Ah! dear son Edgar, The food of thy abused father's wrath, Might I but live to see thee in my touch, I'd say I had eyes again! Old Man. How now! Who's there? Edg. [Aside.] O gods! Who is't can say, "I am at the worst?" I am worse than e'er I was. Glo. Is it a beggar-man? Old Man. Madman, and beggar too. Glo. He has some reason, else he could not beg. I' the last night's storm I such a fellow saw, Which made me think a man a worm: my son Came then into my mind; and yet my mind Was then scarce friends with him: I have heard Edg. Poor Tom's a-cold. - [Aside.] I cannot daub it further. Glo. Come hither, fellow. Edg. [Aside.] And yet I must.-[To him.] Edg. Both stile and gate, horse-way and footpath. Poor Tom hath been scared out of his good wits: bless thee, good man's son, from the foul fiend! Five fiends have been in poor Tom at once: of lust, as Obidicut; Hobbididance, prince of dumb ness; Mahu, of stealing; Modo, of murder; and Flibbertigibbet, of mopping and mowing, who since possesses chamber-maids and waiting-women. So, bless thee, master! Glo. Here, take this purse, thou whom the heaven's plagues Have humbled to all strokes: that I am wretched, And each man have enough.-Dost thou know May prove effects. Back, Edmund, to my brother; Edm. Yours in the ranks of death. My most dear Gloster! [Exit EDMUND. O, the difference of man, and man! Madam, here comes my lord. You are not worth the dust which the rude wind She that herself will sliver and disbranch Gon. No more: the text is foolish. Alb. Wisdom and goodness to the vile seem vile; Filths savour but themselves. What have you done? Tigers, not daughters, what have you perform'd? Whose reverence the head-lugg'd bear would lick, If that the heavens do not their visible spirits Humanity must perforce prey on itself, Gon. Milk-liver'd man! That bear'st a cheek for blows, a head for wrongs; Who hast not in thy brows an eye discerning Thine honour from thy suffering; that not know'st, Fools do those villains pity, who are punish'd Ere they have done their mischief. Where's thy drum? France spreads his banners in our noiseless land; Alb. Gon. O vain fool! Oppos'd against the act, bending his sword Alb. Mess. Both, both, my lord.This letter, madam, craves a speedy answer; 'Tis from your sister. Gon. [Aside.] One way I like this well; But being widow, and my Gloster with her, May all the building in my fancy pluck Upon my hateful life. Another way, SCENE III.-The French Camp, near Dover. Enter KENT, and a Gentleman. Kent. Why the king of France is so suddenly gone back, know you the reason? Gent. Something he left imperfect in the state, which since his coming forth is thought of; which imports to the kingdom so much fear and danger, that his personal return was most required, and necessary. Kent. Whom hath he left behind him general? Gent. The Mareschal of France, Monsieur le Fer. Kent. Did your letters pierce the queen to any demonstration of grief? Gent. Ay, sir; she took them, read them in my presence; And now and then an ample tear trill'd down Kent. Made she no verbal question? Gent. 'Faith, once, or twice, she heav'd the name of "father" Pantingly forth, as if it press'd her heart; Let pity not be believed!"-There she shook And clamour moisten'd: then, away she started Kent. It is the stars, The stars above us, govern our conditions; Else one self mate and mate could not beget Such different issues. since? Gent. No. You spoke not with her And leave you to attend him. Some dear cause [Exeunt. Enter CORDELIA, Physician, and Soldiers. Cor. Alack! 'tis he: why, he was met even now As mad as the vex'd sea: singing aloud; Crown'd with rank fumiter, and furrow weeds, With hoar-docks, hemlock, nettles, cuckoo-flowers, Darnel, and all the idle weeds that grow In our sustaining corn.-A century send forth; Search every acre in the high-grown field, And bring him to our eye. [Exit an Officer.]— What can man's wisdom, In the restoring his bereaved sense? He, that helps him, take all my outward worth. Our foster-nurse of nature is repose, Cor. All bless'd secrets, All you unpublish'd virtues of the earth, Your sister is the better soldier. Reg. Lord Edmund spake not with your lord at home? Osw. No, madam. Osw. Madam, I had ratherReg. I know your lady does not love her husband, I am sure of that; and, at her late being here, She gave strange ciliads, and most speaking looks To noble Edmund. I know, you are of her bosom. Osw. I, madam? Reg. I speak in understanding: y' are, I know it; Therefore, I do advise you, take this note: My lord is dead; Edmund and I have talk'd, And more convenient is he for my hand, Than for your lady's.-You may gather more. If you do find him, pray you, give him this; And when your mistress hears thus much from you, I pray, desire her call her wisdom to her: So, fare you well. If you do chance to hear of that blind traitor, Osw. Would I could meet him, madam: I would show What party I do follow. Reg. Fare thee well. [Exeunt Glo. Methinks, thy voice is alter'd; and thou speak'st In better phrase, and matter, than thou didst. Edg. Y' are much deceiv'd: in nothing am I chang'd, But in my garments. Glo. And dizzy 'tis to cast one's eyes so low! Glo. a foot Of th' extreme verge: for all beneath the moon Glo. Glo. With all my heart. Edg. Why I do trifle thus with his despair, Is done to cure it. O, you mighty gods! Glo. To quarrel with your great opposeless wills, [He leaps, and falls along. Glo. Edg. Hadst thou been aught but gossamer, feathers, air, So many fathom down precipitating, breathe; Hast heavy substance; bleed'st not; speak'st; art sound. Ten masts at each make not the altitude, Edg. From the dread summit of this chalky bourn. Look up a height; the shrill-gorg'd lark so far Glo. Alack! I have no eyes. Is wretchedness depriv'd that benefit, To end itself by death? 'Twas yet some comfort, Enter LEAR, fantastically dressed with wild flowers. Lear. No, they cannot touch me for coining; 1 am the king himself. Edg. O, thou side-piercing sight! Lear. Nature's above art in that respect.There's your press-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 toasted cheese will do't.-There's my gauntlet; I'll prove it on a giant.-Bring up the brown bills.-O, well flown, bird!-i' the clout, i' the clout: hewgh!-Give the word. Edg. Sweet marjoram. Lear. Pass. Glo. I know that voice. Lear. Ha! Goneril!- with a white beard! 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 I said!"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 smelt 'em out. Go to, they are not men o' 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? Ay, every inch a king: Lear. When I do stare, see, how the subject quakes. I pardon that man's life: what was thy cause?— Adultery. The wren goes to't, and the small gilded fly Let copulation thrive; for Gloster's bastard son To't, luxury, pell-mell, for I lack soldiers.— Whose face between her forks presageth snow; The fitchew, nor the soiled horse, goes to't Down from the waist they are centaurs, But to the girdle do the gods inherit, Lear. Let me wipe it first; it smells of mortality. Glo. O ruin'd piece of nature! This great world Shall so wear out to nought.-Dost thou know me? Lear. I remember thine eyes well enough. Dost thou squiny 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 suns, I could not see one. Edg. I would not take this from report; it is, And my heart breaks at it. Lear. Read. Glo. What! with the case of eyes? |