Darnel, and all the idle weeds that grow
In our fuftaining corn. A fent'ry fend forth;
Search ev'ry acre in the high-grown field,
And bring him to our eye.

What can man's Wisdom

In the restoring his bereaved fenfe?

He, that helps him, take all my outward worth.

Phy. There are means, Madam.

Our fofter nurfe of nature is repose,

The which he lacks; that to provoke in him,

Are many Simples operative, whofe

Will clofe the eye of anguifh.

Cor. All bleft Secrets,

power

All you unpublish'd Virtues of the Earth,
Spring with my tears; be aidant, and remediant
In the good man's diftrefs. Seek, feek for him;
Left his ungovern'd rage diffolve the life,
That wants the means to lead it.

Enter a Meffenger.

Mef. News, Madam:

The British Pow'rs are marching hitherward.
Cor. 'Tis known before. Our preparation stands
In expectation of them. O dear father,

It is thy bufinefs that I

Therefore great France

go about;

My Mourning and * important tears hath pitied.
4 No blown ambition doth our arms incite,

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

[Exeunt.

Reg.

SCENE V.
REGAN's PALACE.
Enter Regan and Steward.

BU

UT are my Brother's Powers fet forth?
Stew. Ay, Madam.

Reg. Himself in perfon there?

Stew. With much ado.

Your fifter is the better foldier.

Reg. Lord Edmund fpake not with your Lady at

home?

Stew. No, Madam.

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

Reg. 'Faith, he is posted hence on serious matter.
It was great ign'rance, Glofter'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 mifery, to dispatch

His nighted life; moreover, to descry

The ftrength o'th' enemy.

Stew. I must needs after him, Madam, with my

letter.

Reg. Our troops fet forth to morrow; ftay with us; The ways are dangerous.

Stew. I may not, Madam;

My lady charg'd my duty in this business.

Reg. Why fhould fhe write to Edmund ? might not you

Transport her purposes by word? Belike

Something-I know not what-I'll love thee much* Let me unfeal the letter.

5 -your Lady-] The folio reads, your Lord, but Lady is the first and better reading.

Let me unfeal, &c.] I know not well why Shakespeare gives the Steward, who is a mere fac

tor of wickedness, so much fide-
lity. He now refufes the letter,
and afterwards, when he is dy-
ing, thinks only how it may be
fafely delivered.

Stew.

H

Stew. Madam, I had rather

Reg. I know, your lady does not love her husband: I'm fure of that; and, at her late being here, She gave strange ciliads, and moft fpeaking looks To noble Edmund. I know, you're of her bofom. Stew. I, Madam?

Reg I fpeak in understanding: you are; I know't: Therefore, I do advise you, take this note.

6

My Lord is dead; Edmund and I have talk'd,
And more convenient is he for my hand,
Than for your Lady's. 7 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, 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 shew,

• What party I do follow.

Reg. Fare thee well.

9 SCENE VI.

The Country, near Dover.

Enter Glo'fter, and Edgar, as a Peafant.

HEN fhall I come to th' top of that same

WHE hill?

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

6-I do advise you, take this note.] Note means in this place not a letter but a remark. Therefore obferve what I am faying. 7-You may gather more.] You may infer more than I have directly told you.

8 What party] Quarto, what Lady.

9 This fcene and the ftratagem by which Glo'fter is cured of his defperation, are wholly borrowed from Sidney's Arcadia.

Glo

Glo. Methinks the ground is even.

Edg. Horrible steep.

Hark, do you hear the fea?

Glo. No, truly.

Edg. Why then your other fenfes grow imperfect By your eye's anguish.

Glo. So it may be, indeed.

1

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. Sure you're better spoken.

Edg. Come on, Sir, here's the place. Stand ftill.2 How fearful

And dizzy 'tis, to caft one's eyes fo low !

The crows and choughs, that wing the midway air,
Shew scarce fo grofs 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,

a precipice finds himself affailed by one great and dreadful image of irrefiftible deftruction. But this overwhelming idea is diffipated and enfeebled from the inftant that the mind can restore itself to the obfervation of particulars, and diffufe its attention to diftinct objects. The enumeration of the choughs and crows, the famphire-man and the fishers, counteracts the great effect of the profpect, as it peoples the defert of intermediate vacuity, and stops the mind in the rapidity of its defcent through emptiness and horrour,

Diminish'd to her. 3 cock; her cock, a buoy
Almoft too fmall for fight. The murmuring furge,
That on th' unnumbred idle pebbles chafes,
Cannot be heard fo high. I'll look no more,
Lett my brain turn, and the deficient fight
Topple down headlong.

Glo. Set me, where you stand.

4

Edg. Give me your hand. You're now within a foot Of th' extream verge; + for all below the moon Would I not leap outright.

Glo. Let go my hand.

Here, friend,'s another purfe, in it a Jewel

Well worth a poor man's taking. Fairies, and Gods,
Proiper 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 blefs him!
-Now, fellow, fare thee well.

[He leaps, and falls along.

Edg. Good Sir, farewel.
-And yet I know not how Conceit may rob

3 —her cock;-] Her cock- his feet upon the place from

boat.

4 -for all below the moon Would I not leap UPRIGHT.] But what danger in leaping up right or upwards? He who leaps thus muft needs fall again on

whence he rofe. We should read,

Would I not leap OUTRIGHT. i.e. forward: and then being on the verge of a precipice he must needs fall headlong. WARB

The