His mind so venomously, that burning shame Gent. Alack, poor gentleman! Kent. Of Albany's and Cornwall's powers you heard not? Gent. 'Tis so, they are afoot. Kent. Well, sir, I'll bring you to our master Lear, 50 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 Along with me. I pray you, go [Exeunt. Enter, with drum and colours, CORDELIA, Doctor, Cor. Alack, 'tis he: why, he was met even now Crown'd with rank fumiter and furrow-weeds, In our sustaining corn. A century send forth; And bring him to our eye. [Exit an Officer.] What can man's wisdom In the restoring his bereaved sense? He that helps him take all my outward worth. Doct. There is means, madam : Our foster-nurse of nature is repose, The which he lacks; that to provoke in him, Cor. All blest secrets, All you unpublish'd virtues of the earth, ΙΟ Lest his ungovern'd rage dissolve the life Mess. Enter a Messenger. News, madam; 20 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. But love, dear love, and our aged father's right: SCENE V. Gloucester's castle. Enter REGAN and OSWALD. [Exeunt. Reg. But are my brother's powers set forth? Osw. Reg. Himself in person there ? Your sister is the better soldier. Ay, madam. Madam, with much ado: 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, Gloucester's eyes being out, 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. Osw. I must needs after him, madam, with my letter. ΙΟ Reg. Our troops set forth to-morrow: stay with us; The ways are dangerous. Osav. I may not, madam: My lady charged 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, Osw. Madam, I had rather— Reg. I know your lady does not love her husband; Reg. I speak in understanding; you are, I know 't; My lord is dead; Edmund and I have talk'd; And when your mistress hears thus much from you, So, fare you well. If you do chance to hear of that blind traitor, Preferment falls on him that cuts him off. 20 30 Osw. Would I could meet him, madam! I should show What party I do follow. Reg. Fare thee well. [Exeunt. SCENE VI. Fields near Dover. Enter GLOUCESTER, and EDGAR dressed like a peasant. Edg. Why, then, your other senses grow imperfect By your eyes' anguish. Glou. 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 deceived; in nothing am I changed But in my garments. Glou. Methinks you're better spoken. 10 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 Glou. Set me where you stand. Edg. Give me your hand: you are now within a foot Of the extreme verge: for all beneath the moon Would I not leap upright. Glou. Let go my hand. Here, friend, 's another purse; in it a jewel Bid me farewell, and let me hear thee going. 20 30 Edg. Now fare you well, good sir. Glou. With all my heart. Edg. Why I do trifle thus with his despair Is done to cure it. Glou. [Kneeling] O you mighty gods! This world I do renounce, and, in your sights, Edg. 40 [He falls forward. Gone, sir: farewell. 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? Thus might he pass indeed: yet he revives. Glou. Away, and let me die. Edg. Hadst thou been aught but gossamer, feathers, air, So many fathom down precipitating, Thou 'dst shiver'd like an egg: but thou dost breathe; Hast heavy substance; bleed'st not; speak'st; art sound. Ten masts at each make not the altitude Which thou hast perpendicularly fell: Thy life's a miracle. Speak yet again. Edg. From the dread summit of this chalky bourn. Look up a-height; the shrill-gorged lark so far Cannot be seen or heard: do but look up. Glou. Alack, I have no eyes. Is wretchedness deprived that benefit, To end itself by death? 'Twas yet some comfort, And frustrate his proud will. G 50 бо |