Reg. What might import my sister's letter to him? Stew. I know not, lady.

Reg. 'Faith, he is posted hence on serious matter. It was great ign'rance, Glo'ster'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 strength o'th' enemy.

Stew. I must 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 should she write to Edmund? might not

you

Transport her purposes by word? Belike,

Something I know not what I'll love thee

much

Let me unseal 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 speak in understanding: you are; I know't;

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 rom you,
I pray, defire her call her wisdom to her. So farewel.
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, I should
What

shew

What party I do follow.
Reg. Fare thee well.

SCENE VI.

The Country, near Dover.

Enter Glo'ster, and Edgar as a Peafant.

[Exeunt.

HEN shall I come to th' top of that fame

hill ?

Edg. You do climb up it now. Look, how we la

Glo. Methinks, the ground is even.

Edg. Horrible steep.

Hark, do you hear the fea?

Glo. No, truly.

[bour.

Edg. Why then your other senses grow imperfect By your eyes' anguish.

Glo. So may it be, indeed.

Methinks, thy voice is alter'd; and thou speak'st
In better phrafe and matter than thou didst.

Edg. You're much deceiv'd: in nothing am I

chang'd,

But in my garments.

Glo. Sure you're better spoken.

Edg. Come on, Sir, here's the place-stand still.

How fearful

And dizzy 'tis, to cast one's eyes so low!
The crows and choughs, that wing the midway air,
Shew scarce so gross as beetles. Half way down
Hangs one, that gathers Samphire; dreadful trade!
Methinks, he seems no bigger than his head.
The fisher-men, that walk upon the beach,
Appear like mice; and yond tall anchoring bark,
Diminish'd to her cock; her cock, a buoy
Almost too fmall for fight. The murmuring furge,
That on th' unnumbred idle pebbles chafes,
Cannot be heard so high. I'll look no more,
Lest my brain turn, and the deficient fight,
Topple down headlong.

Gle.

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
Would I not leap outright.

Glo. Let go my hand:

Here, friend, 's another purse, in it a Jewel
Well worth a poor man's taking. Fairies, and Gods,
Profper it with thee! Go thou further off,
Bid me farewel, and let me hear thee going.
Edg. Now fare ye well, good Sir.

Glo. With all my heart.

[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
Shake patiently my great affliction off:
If I could bear it longer, and not fall
To quarrel with your great opposeless Wills,
My fnuff and loathed part of nature should
Burn itself out. If Edgar live, O bless him!
Now, fellow, fare thee well.

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 past. Alive or dead?
Hoa, you, hear you, friend! Sir! Sir! speak!
Thus might he pass, indeed-yet he revives.

What are you, Sir?

Glo. Away, and let me die.

Edg. Had'st, thou been aught but Goss'mer, fea

!

thers, air,

So many fathom down precipitating,

Thou'd'it shiver'd like an egg: but thou dost breathe,

Haft heavy substance, bleed'st not; speak, art found?

Ten

*Ten masts attacht make not the altitude,
Which thou hast perpendicularly fall'n.
Thy life's a miracle. Speak yet again.
Glo. But have I fall'n, or no?

Edg. From the dread summit of this chalky bourn!
Look up a height, the shrill-gorg'd Lark fo far
Cannot be seen 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 some comfort,
When misery could beguile the tyrant's rage,
And fruftrate his proud will.

Edg. Give me your arm.

Up, fo-how is't? feel you your legs? you stand.
Glo. Too well, too well.

Edg. This is above all strangeness.
Upon the crown o'th' cliff, what thing was that,
Which parted from you?

Glo. A poor unfortunate beggar.

Edg. As I stood 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 impossibilities, have preserv'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,
I took him for a man; often 'twould say,
The fiend, the fiend he led me to that place.
Edg. Bear free and patient thoughts.

*Ten mafts at each make not the altitude.] So Mr. Pope found it in the
old Editions; and seeing it corrupt, judicioufly corrected it to at-
tacht. But Mr. Theobald restores again the old Nonsense, at each.
+ Horns welk'd,] i. e. twisted.

Mr. Pope.

Enter Lear, dreft madly with flowers.

But who comes here?

The fober sense will ne'er accommodate

His master thus.

Lear. No, they cannot touch me for coining: I am the King himself.

Edg. O thou fide-piercing fight!

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, 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 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?

Lear. Ay, every inch a King. When I do stare, fee, how the subject quakes. I pardon that man's life. What was the cause? Adultery? thou shalt not die; die for adultery? no, the wren goes to't, and the small gilded flie doesletcher

in