Reg. So white, and such a traitor! Glo. Naughty lady, These hairs, which thou dost ravish from my chin, Will quicken, and accuse thee: I am your host; With robbers' hands, my hospitable favours2 You should not ruffle thus. What will you do? Corn. Come, sir, what letters had you late from France? Reg. Be simple-answer'd, for we know the truth. Corn. And what confederacy have you with the traitors Late footed in the kingdom? Reg. To whose hands have you sent the lunatic king? Speak. Glo. I have a letter guessingly set down, Which came from one that's of a neutral heart, And not from one oppos'd. Corn. Reg. Cunning. Corn. Where hast thou sent the king? Glo. Reg. And false. To Dover. Wherefore To Dover? Wast thou not charg'd at thy peril— Corn. Wherefore to Dover? Let him first answer that. Glo. I am tied to the stake, and I must stand the course. Reg. Wherefore to Dover? Glo. Because I would not see thy cruel nails Pluck out his poor old eyes; nor thy fierce sister In his anointed flesh stick boarish fangs. The sea, with such a storm as his bare head In hell-black night endur'd, would have buoy'd up, And quench'd the stelled fires: yet, poor old heart, He holp the heavens to rain. If wolves had at thy gate howl'd that stern time, Thou should'st have said, Good porter, turn the key; (2) Features. (3) Starred. (1) Live. All cruels else subscrib'd:-But I shall see Upon these eyes of thine I'll set my foot. Glo. He, that will think to live tili he be old, Give me some help:-O cruel! O ye gods! Reg. One side will mock another; the other too. Corn. If you see vengeance,— Serv. Hold your hand, my lord. I have serv'd you ever since I was a child; But better service have I never done you, Than now to bid you hold. Reg. How now, you dog? Serv. If you did wear a beard upon your chin, I'd shake it on this quarrel: What do you mean? Corn. My villain! [Draws, and runs at him Serv. Nay, then come on, and take the chance of anger. [Draws. They fight. Cornwall is wounded. Reg. Give me thy sword.-[To another Servant.] A peasant stand up thus! [Snatches a sword, comes behind, and stabs him. Serv. O, I am slain !-My lord, you have one eye left To see some mischief on him :-O! [Dies. Corn. Lest it see more, prevent it:-Out, vile jelly! Where is thy lustre now? [Tears out Gloster's other eye, and throws it on the ground. Glo. All dark and comfortless.-Where's my son Edmund? Edmund, enkindle all the sparks of nature, (1) Yielded, submitted to the necessity of the occasion. To quit this horrid act. Reg. Out, treacherous villain! Thou call'st on him that hates thee: it was he That made the overture2 of thy treasons to us; Who is too good to pity thee. Glo. Then Edgar was abus'd.— O my follies! Kind gods, forgive me that, and prosper him! you? Corn. I have receiv'd a hurt:-Follow me, lady. Turn out that eyeless villain ;-throw this slave Upon the dunghill.-Regan, I bleed apace : Untimely comes this hurt: Give me your arm. [Exit Cornwall, led by Regan;-Servants unbind Gloster, and lead him out. 1 Serv. I'll never care what wickedness I do, If this man comes to good. 2 Serv. If she live long, And, in the end, meet the old course of death, Women will all turn monsters. 1 Serv. Let's follow the old earl, and get the Bedlam3 To lead him where he would; his roguish madness Allows itself to any thing. 2 Serv. Go thou; I'll fetch some flax, and whites of eggs, To apply to his bleeding face. him! Now, heaven help [Exeunt severally. Than still contemn'd and flatter'd. To be worst, The wretch, that thou hast blown unto the worst, Owes nothing to thy blasts.-But who comes here? Enter Gloster, led by an Old Man. My father, poorly led?-World, world, O world! But that thy strange mutations3 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 mean secures 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 um at the worst? I am worse than e'er I was. Old Man.. 'Tis poor mad Tom. Edg. [Aside.] And worse I may be yet: The worst is not, (1) i. e. It is better to be thus contemned and know it, than to be flattered by those who secretly contemn us. (2) In hope. (3) Changes. So long as we can say, This is the worst. Glo. He has some reason, else he could not beg. As flies to wanton boys, are we to the gods; Edg. How should this be? Bad is the trade must play the fool to sorrow, Ang'ring itself and others. [Aside.]-Bless thee, master! Glo. Is that the naked fellow? Old Man. Ay, my lord. Glo. Then, pr'ythee, get thee gone: If, for my sake, Thou wilt o'ertake us, hence a mile or twain, Old Man. Alack, sir, he's mad. Glo. 'Tis the time's plague, when madmen lead the blind. Do as I bid thee, or rather do thy pleasure; Above the rest, be gone. Old Man. I'll bring him the best 'parel that 1 have, Come on't what will. Glo. Sirrah, naked fellow. [Exù. Edg. Poor Tom's a-cold-I cannot daub1 it fur ther. Glo. Come hither, fellow. [Aside. Edg. [Aside.] And yet I must.-Bless thy sweet eyes, they bleed. Glo. Know'st thou the way to Dover? (1) Disguise. |
