ALB. Thou changed and self-cover'd thing, for shame,
Be-monster not thy feature.

Were't my fitness

To let these hands obey my blood,

They are apt enough to dislocate and tear

Thy flesh and bones:-howe'er thou art a fiend,
A woman's shape doth shield thee.

GON. Marry, your manhood now !

ALB. What news?

Enter a Messenger

MESS. O, my good lord, the Duke of Cornwall's dead;
Slain by his servant, going to put out

MESS. A servant that he bred, thrill'd with remorse,
Oppos'd against the act, bending his sword
To his great master; who, thereat enrag'd,
Flew on him, and amongst them fell'd him dead;
But not without that harmful stroke, which since
Hath pluck'd him after.

ALB.

This shows you are above,
You justicers, that these our nether crimes
So speedily can venge!-But, O poor Gloster!
Lost he his other eye?

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,

The news is not so tart.—I'll read, and answer.

ALB. Where was his son when they did take his eyes?
MESS. Come with my lady hither.

ALB.

He is not here.

MESS. No, my good lord; I met him back again.

ALB. Knows he the wickedness?

MESS. Ay, my good lord; 'twas he inform'd against him;
And quit the house on purpose, that their punishment
Might have the freer course.

ALB.

Gloster, I live

To thank thee for the love thou show'dst the king,
And to revenge thine eyes. Come hither, friend:
Tell me what more thou know'st.

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. Who hath he left behind him general?
GENT. The Marshal of France, Monsieur La Far.
KENT. Did your letters pierce the

grief?

queen to any

demonstration of

ΙΟ

GENT. Ay, sir; she took them, read them in my presence;
And now and then an ample tear trill'd down

Her delicate cheek: it seem'd she was a queen

Over her passion; who, most rebel-like,
Sought to be king o'er her.

KENT.
O, then it mov'd her.
GENT. Not to a rage: patience and sorrow strove
Who should express her goodliest. You have seen
Sunshine and rain at once: her smiles and tears
Were like a better day: those happy smilets,
That play'd on her ripe lip, seem'd not to know
What guests were in her eyes; which parted thence,
As pearls from diamonds dropp'd.—In brief, sorrow
Would be a rarity most belov'd, if all

Could so become it.

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;

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Cried, Sisters! sisters!-Shame of ladies! sisters!

Kent! father! sisters! What, i' the storm? i' the night?
Let pity not be believ'd!'-There she shook

The holy water from her heavenly eyes,

And clamour moisten'd: then away she started
To deal with grief alone.

KENT.

It is the stars,

The stars above us, govern our conditions;

Else one self mate and mate could not beget

Such different issues. You spoke not with her since? GENT. NO.

KENT. Was this before the king return'd?

No, since.

GENT.
KENT. Well, sir, the poor distressèd Lear's i' the town;
Who sometime, in his better tune, remembers

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What we are come about, and by no means

Will yield to see his daughter.

GENT.

Why, good sir?

40

KENT. A sovereign shame so elbows him: his own unkindness, That stripp'd her from his benediction, turn'd her

To foreign casualties, gave her dear rights

To his dog-hearted daughters, these things sting
His mind so venomously, that burning shame
Detains him from Cordelia.

GENT.

Alack, poor gentleman!

KENT. Of Albany's and Cornwall's powers you heard not?
GENT. 'Tis so they are a-foot.

KENT. Well, sir, I'll bring you to our master Lear,
And leave you to attend him: some dear cause
Will in concealment wrap me up awhile;

When I am known aright, you shall not grieve
Lending me this acquaintance. I pray you, go
Along with me.

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[Exeunt.

SCENE IV. The Same. A Tent

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 bereavèd sense?

He that helps him take all my outward worth.

PHY. There is means, madam :

Our foster-nurse of nature is repose,

The which he lacks; that to provoke in him,

Are many simples operative, whose power
Will close the eye of anguish.

COR.

All bless'd secrets,

All you unpublish'd virtues of the earth,
Spring with my tears! be aidant and remediate
In the good man's distress!-Seek, seek for him;
Lest his ungovern'd rage dissolve the life

That wants the means to lead it.

ΤΟ

MESS.

Enter a Messenger

News, madam;

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The British powers are marching hitherward.
COR. 'Tis known before; our preparation stands
In expectation of them.-O dear father,
It is thy business that I go about;
Therefore great France

My mourning and important tears hath pitied.
No blown ambition doth our arms incite,

But love, dear love, and our ag'd father's right:
Soon may I hear and see him!

[Exeunt.

SCENE V.-A Room in GLOSTER'S Castle

Enter REGAN and OSWALD

REG. But are my brother's powers set forth?

Ay, madam.

Madam, with much ado:

Osw.

REG. Himself in person there?
Osw.

Your sister is the better soldier.

REG. Lord Edmund spake not with your lord at home?
Osw. No, madam.

REG. What might import my sister's letter to him?

Osw. I know not, lady.

REG. Faith, he is posted hence on serious matter.

It was great ignorance, Gloster'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' the enemy.

letter.

Osw. I must needs after him, madam, with my
REG. Our troops set forth to-morrow: stay with us;
The ways are dangerous.

Osw.

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.

Osw.
Madam, I had rather—
REG. I know your lady does not love her husband;
I am sure of that: and at her late being here
She

gave strange eyeliads and most speaking looks To noble Edmund. I know you are of her bosom.

20

ΙΟ

Osw. 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 you,
I pray, desire her call her wisdom to her.

So, fare you well.

If

you do chance to hear of that blind traitor, Preferment falls on him that cuts him off.

Osw. Would I could meet him, madam! I should show

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39

[Exeunt.

SCENE VI.-The Country near Dover

Enter GLOSTER, and EDGAR dressed like a peasant

GLO. When shall I come to the top of that same hill?
EDG. You do climb up it now: look, how we labour.
GLO. Methinks the ground is even.

EDG.

Horrible steep.

Hark, do you hear the sea?

No, truly.

GLO.

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 phrase and matter than thou didst.

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

But in my garments.

GLO.

Methinks 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
Show scarce so gross as beetles: half way down
Hangs one that gathers samphire,—dreadful trade!
Methinks he seems no bigger than his head :
The fishermen, that walk upon the beach,
Appear like mice; and yond tall anchoring bark,
Diminish'd to her cock; her cock, a buoy
Almost too small for sight: the murmuring surge,
That on the unnumber'd idle pebbles chafes,
Cannot be heard so high.—I'll look no more;

ΙΟ

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