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Enter Glo'ster, led by an old mani But who comes here? My father poorly led? World, world, O world! (20) But that thy strange Mutations make us wait thee, Life would not yield to age.
Old Man, Omy 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. You cannot see your way.
Glo. I have no way, and therefore want no eyes :
O dear fon Edgar,
Old Man. How now? who's there?
Edg. O Gods! who is't can say, I'm at the worst? I'm worse, than e'er I was.
Old Man. 'Tis poor mad Tom.
Edg. And worse I may be yet : the worst is not, So long as we can say, this is the worst.
(20) World, World, o World! Bui that thy strange Mutations make us hate thee,] The Reading . of this Passage, as it has thus stood in all the Editions, has been endeavour'd to be explain'd severally into a Meaning ; but not satisfa&orily. Mr. Pope's mock-reasoning upon it has already been rallied in Print, so I forbear to revive it: and the Gentleman, who then advanced a Comment of his own upon the Passage, has since come over to my Emendation. My Explanation of the Poet's Sentiment was, “ If the Num“ ber of Changes and Vicissitudes, which happen in Life, “ did not make us wait, and hope for some Turn of For“ cune for the better, we could never support the Thought of
living to be Old, on any other Terms." And our Duty, as human Creatures, is piously inculcated in this Reflexion of the Author.
Old Man. Fellow, where goeft?
Glo. He has some reason, else he could not beg.
Edg. How should this be?
Glo. Is that the naked fellow ?
Old Man. Alack, Sir, he is mad.
gone. Old Man. I'll bring him the best 'parrel that I have, Come on't, what will.
Edg. And yet I muft ;
Glo. Know'st thou the way to Dover?
Edg. Both ftite and gate, horse-way and foot-path : poor Tom hath been scar'd out of his good wits. Bless thee, good man, from the foul fiend. Five fiends have been in poor Tom at once ; of Luft, as Obidicut; Hobbididen, Prince of dumbness; Mahu, of stealing ; Mobu, of murder; and Flibbertigibbet, of mopping and VOL. VI.
mowing; who fince possesses chamber-maids and wait: ing-women. Glo. Here, take this purse, thou whom the heavens
plagues Have humbled to all strokes. That I am wretched, Makes thee the happier : heavens deal so still ! Let the superfluous, and luft-dieted man, That saves your ordinance, that will not fee Because he do's not feel, feel your power quickly : So distribution should undo excess, And each man have enough. Do'st thou know Dover?
Edg. Ay, master.
Gle. There is a cliff, whose high and bending head Looks fearfully on the confined deep : Bring me but to the very brim of it, And I'll repair the misery, thou do't bear, With something rich about me: from that place I shall no leading need.
Edg. Give me thy arm ; Poor Tom shall lead thee.
SCENE, the Duke of Albany's Palace.
Enter Gonerill, and Edmund.
husband Not met us on the way.
Enter Steward. Now, where's your Master ?
Stew. Madam, within ; but never man fo chang'd : I told him of the army that was landed : He smil'd at it. I told him, you were coming, His answer was, the worfe. Of Glofter's treachery, And of the loyal service of his son, When I inform'd him, then he call'd me fot; And told me, I had turn'd the wrong side out. What most he should dislike, seems pleasant to him; What like, offenfive.
Gon. Then shall you go no further.
you dare venture in your own behalf,
Edm. Yours in the ranks of death.
Gon. My most dear Gli Aer! [Exit Edmund,
Alb. Oh Gonerill,
Gon. No more ; 'tis foolish.
(21) From her material Sap,] Thas the old Quarto ; but mao
Filths favour but themselves What have you done?
Gon. Milk-liver'd man !
Alb. See thy self, devil:
Gon. O vain fool!
Alb. Glofter's eyes !
Mef. A servant, that he bred, thrill'd with remorse, Opposid against the act; bending his sword