Were two full moons; he had a thousand noses,
Horns welk'd, and wav'd like the enridged sea :
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 it self,
Enough, enough, and die. That thing you speak of,

I took it for a man; often 'twould say,

The fiend, the fiend

he led me to that place.

Edg. Bear free and patient thoughts.

Enter Lear, dreft madly with flowers.

But who comes here?

The safer sense will ne'er accommodate

His master thus.

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

Edg. O thou fide-piercing fight!

Lear. Nature's above art in that respect. There's your press-mony. (25) That fellow handles his bow like a crow-keeper: draw me a clothier's yard. Look, look, a mouse! Peace, peace;-this piece of toafted cheese will do't there's my gauntlet, I'll prove it on a giant. Bring up the brown bills. O, well flown, Barb! (26) i'th' clout, i'th' clout: hewgh. Give the word. Edg. Sweet marjoram.

(25) That Fellow handles bis Bow like a Cowkeeper.] Thus Mr. Pope in his last Edition; but, I am afraid, I betray'd him into the Error by an absurd Conjecture of my own, in my SHAKESPEARE restored. "Tis certain we must read Crowkeeper here; and, it seems, in several Counties to this Day, they call a stuff'd Figure, representing a Man, and arm'd with a Bow and Arrow, (set up to fright the Crows, and other Birds of Prey, from the Fruit and Corn;) a Crowkeeper; as well as a Scare-crow.

(26) Ο well flown Bird,] Lear is here raving of Archery, and shooting at Buts, as is plain by the Words i'th Clout, that is, the white Mark they set up and aim at: hence the Phrase, to bit the White. So that We must certainly read, O well-flown, Basb! i, e. the barbed, or bearded Arrow. Mr. Warburton. Lear Lear. Pass.

Glo. I know that voice.

Lear. Ha! Gonerill! hah! 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 agueproof.

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, see, 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 does letcher in my fight. Let copulation thrive: for Glo'ster's bastardson was kinder to his father, than my daughters got 'tween the lawful sheets. To't, luxury, pell-mell; for I lack foldiers. Behold yond fimpering Dame, whose face 'tween her forks presages snow; that minces virtue, and does shake the head to hear of pleasure's name. fitchew, nor the soyled horse, goes to't with a more riotous appetite: down from the waste they are centaurs, though women all above: but to the girdle do the Gods inherit, beneath is all the fiends. There's hell, there's darkness, there is the fulphurous pit, burning, scalding, stench, consumption: fie, fie, fie; pah, pah; give me an ounce of civet, good apothecary, to sweeten my imagination! there's mony for thee. Glo. O, let me kiss that hand.

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. Doft thou know me?

The

Lear. I remember thine eyes well enough: doft 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.

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 this case of eyes?

Lear. Oh, ho, are you there with me? no eyes in your head, nor no mony in your purse? your eyes are in a heavy cafe, your purse in a light; yet you see how this world goes.

Glo. I see it feelingly.

Lear. What, art mad? a man may see how this world goes, with no eyes. Look with thine ears: see, how yond justice rails upon yond simple thief. Hark in thine ear: change Places, and handy-dandy, which is the justice, which is the thief? Thou hast seen a farmer's dog bark at a beggar.

Glo. Ay, Sir.

Lear. And the creature run from the cur? there thou might'st behold the great image of authority; a dog's obey'd in office.

Thou rascal beadle, hold thy bloody hand:
Why dost thou lash that whore? strip thy own back;
Thou hotly luft'st to use her in that kind,

For which thou whip'st her. Th' usurer hangs the cozener.
Through tatter'd cloaths small vices do appear;
Robes and furr'd gowns hide all. Plate sin with gold,
And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks :
Arm it in rags, a 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 the pow'r
To feal th' accufer's lips. Get thee glass eyes,

And, like a scurvy politician, seem

[fo.

Now, now, now, now. Pull off my boots: harder, harder,

To see the things thou dost not.

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 Glo'ster;

Thou must be patient; we came crying hither:

Thou know'st, the first time that we smell the air,

We

We wawle and cry. I will preach to thee: markGlo. 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 shoe

A troop of horse with Felt; I'll put't in proof;
And when I've stolen upon these sons-in-law,
Then kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill.

Enter a Gentleman, with Attendants.

Gent. O, here he is, lay hand upon him; Sir,
Your most dear daughter

Lear. No rescue? what, a prisoner? I am even
The natural fool of fortune. Use me well,
You shall have ransom. Let me have furgeons,
I am cut to th' brains.

Gent. You shall have any thing.
Lear. No feconds? all my felf?
Why, this would make a man, a man of falt;
To use his eyes for garden-water-pots,
And laying autumn's dust. I will die bravely,
Like a smug bridegroom. What? I will be jovial:
Come, come, I am a King. My Masters, know you that
Gent. You are a royal one, and we obey you.
Lear. Then there's life in't. Come, an you get it,
You shall get it by running: sa, sa, sa, sa.

[Exit.

Gent. A fight most pitiful in the meanest wretch, Past speaking of in a King. Thou hast one 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 aught, Sir, of a battle toward? Gent. Moft fure, and vulgar; every one hears that,

Which can diftinguish sound.

Edg. But by your favour,

How near's the other army?

Gent. Near, and on speedy foot: the main descry

Stands on the hourly thought.

Edg. I thank you, Sir: That's all.

Gent

Gent. Though that the Queen on special cause is here,

Her army is mov'd on.

Edg. I thank you, Sir.

[Exit.

Glo. You ever gentle Gods, take my breath from me;

Let not my worser 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 forrows,
Am pregnant to good pity. Give me your hand,
I'll lead you to fome biding.

Glo. Hearty thanks;

The bounty and the benizon of heav'n

To boot, and boot!

Enter Steward.

Stew. A proclaim'd prize! most happy! That eyeless head of thine was first fram'd flesh, To raise my fortunes. Old unhappy traitor, Briefly thy self remember: the sword is out, That must deftroy thee.

Glo. Let thy friendly hand

Put strength enough to't.

Stew. Wherefore, bold peasant,

Dar'ft thou support a publish'd traitor? hence,
Left that th' infection of his fortune take
Like hold on thee. Let go his arm.

Edg. Chill not let go, Žir, 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 costard or my bat be the harder; chill be plain with you. Stew. Out, dunghil!

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

[Edgar knocks him down.

Stew. Slave, thou hast slain me: villain, take my purse;

If