like a dog, and told me, I had white hairs in my beard, ere the black ones were there. To fay 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 ftare, fee, how the fubject quakes. I pardon that man's life. What was thy cause ? Adultery thou shalt not die; die for adultery? no, the wren goes to't, and the fmall gilded fly does letcher in my fight. Let copulation thrive: for Glo'fter's baftard fon was kinder to his father, than my daughters got 'tween the lawful fheets. To't, luxury, pell-mell; for I lack foldiers. Behold yon fimpering dame, whose face 'tween her forks prefages fnow; that minces virtue, and does shake the head to hear of pleasure's name. The fit-chew, nor the foiled horfe goes to't with a more riotous appetite: down from the wafte 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, fcalding, ftench, confumption: fie, fie, fie; pah, pah; give me an ounce of civet, good apothecary, to fweeten my imagination! there's money for thee. Glo. O, let me kifs that hand. Lear. Let me wipe it firft, it smells of mortality. Glo. O ruin'd piece of nature! this great world Shall fo wear out to naught. Do'st thou know me? Lear. I remember thine eyes well enough: doft thou fquiny at me? no, do thy worst, blind Cupid; I'll not love. Read thou this challenge, mark but the penning of it. Glo. Were all the letters funs, I could not fee one. Edg. Edg. I would not take this from report; it is, And my heart breaks at it. Lear. Read. Glo. What, with this cafe of eyes? Lear. Oh, ho, are you there with me? no eyes in your head, nor no money in your purfe? your eyes are in a heavy cafe, your purfe in a light; yet you fee how this world goes. Glo. I fee it feelingly. Lear. What, art mad? a man may fee how this world goes, with no eyes. Look with thine ears: fee, how yond justice rails upon yond fimple thief. Hark in thine ear: change places, and handy-dandy, which is the juftice, which is the thief? Thou haft feen a farmer's dog bark at a beggar? (51) Glo. Ay, Sir. Lear. And the creature run from the cur? there thou might'ft behold the great image of authority; a dog's obey'd in office.. Thou rafcal beadle, hold thy bloody hand: Why dost thou lafh that whore? ftrip thy own back Thou hotly luft'ft to use her in that kind, For which thou whip'ft her. Th'ufurer hangs the cozener, Through tatter'd cloaths fmall vices do appear; (51) Thou haft feen a farmer's dog bark at a beggar? &c.] This exquifite piece of fatire, dreft up in a figure and method of imagining from abfent circumstances, has greatly the air of imitation from the ancients. It is that fort of figure, by which (as Minturnus has obferv'd in his elaborate treatife De Poeta) oftenditur interdum, quafi ante oculos fit, filta imago: a feign'd image of things is fometimes reprefented, as if really in view. Plautus is very full of this imagery: and I'll fubjoin two instances that have very much the caft of this in our author, only more ludicrous in their turn: In his Menæchmei, A&t. 1, Sc. 2. Men. Dic mibi, nunquàm tu vidifti tabulam pictam in pariete, Pen. Sæpè. Sed quid ifta picturæ ad me attinent ? Men, Age, me afpice. And in his Meftellaria. A&t. 3. Sc. 2. Tra. Viden' pictum, ubi ludificatur cornix una volturios ́duo? ̧. Cornix aftat, ea volturios duo viciffim vellicat. Quæfo, huc ad me fpecta, corniçem ut confpicere poffies. Robes Robes and furr'd gowns hide all. Plate fins with gold, To fee the things thou do'ft not. Now, now, now, now. Pull off my boots: harder, harder, fo, Edg. O matter and impertinency mixt, Reafon in madness! Lear. If thou wilt weep my fortunes, take my eyes, I know thee well enough, thy name is Glo'fter; Thou must be patient; we came crying hither : Thou know'ft, the first time that we fmell the air, We wawle and cry. I will preach to thee: markGlo. Álack, alack the day! Lear. When we are born, we cry, that we are come To this great ftage of fools.-This a good block !— It were a delicate ftratagem to fhooe A troop of horse with felt; I'll put't in proof; Enter a Gentleman, with Attendants. Gent. O, here he is, lay hand upon him; Sir, Your most dear daughter Lear. No refcue? what, a prifoner? I am even The natural fool of fortune. Ufe me well, You fhall have ransom. I am cut to th' brains. Let me have furgeons, Gent. You fhall have any thing. Why this would make a man, a man of falt; And laying autumn's duft. I will die bravely, You You shall get it by running: fa, fa, sa, sa. [Exit. Gent. A fight moft pitiful in the meaneft wretch, Paft fpeaking of in a King. Thou haft one daughter, Who redeems nature from the general curfe Which twain have brought her to. Edg. Hail, gentle Sir. Gent. Sir, fpeed you: what's your will? Edg. Do you hear ought, Sir, of a battle toward? Gent. Moft fure, and vulgar: every one hears that, Which can diftinguish found. Edg. But by your favour, How near's the other army? Gent. Near, and on fpeedy foot: the main defcry Stands on the hourly thought. Edg. I thank you, Sir; that's all. Gent. Though that the Queen on fpecial caufe 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 worfer spirit tempt me again To die before you please. Edg. Well pray you, father. Glo. Now, good Sir, what are you? Edg. A moft 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, Glo. Hearty thanks; The bounty and the benizon of heav'n To boot, and boot ! Enter Steward. Stew. A proclaim'd prize! moft happy! Glo. Let thy friendly hand Put ftrength enough to't. Stew. Wherefore, bold peafant, VOL. VI. E Dar'ft Dar'st thou fupport a publish'd traitor? hence, Edg. Chill not let go, Zir, without vurther 'cafion. Edg. Good gentleman, go your gate, and let poor volk pafs and 'chud ha' been zwagger'd out of my life, 'twould not ha' been zo long as 'tis by a vort-night. Nay, come not near th' old man: keep out, che vor'ye, or ice try whether your coftard or my bat be the harder; chill be plain with you. Stew. Out, dunghill! Edg. Chill pick your teeth, Zir: come, no matter vor your foyns. [Edgar knocks him down. Ster. Slave, thou haft flain me: villain, take my purse; If ever thou wilt thrive, bury my body, And give the letters, which thou find'st about me, As badnefs would defire. Glo. What, is he dead? Edg. Sit you down, father: reft you. Let's fee thefe pockets; the letters, that he fpeaks of, May be my friends: he's dead; I'm only forry, He had no other death's-man. Let us fee By your leave, gentle wax-and manners blame us not: To know our enemies minds, we rip their hearts; Their papers are more lawful. Reads the Letter. ET our reciprocal vows be remembred. You have many and place will be fruitfully offer'd. There is nothing done, if he return the conqueror. Then am I the prisoner, and his bed my goal; from the loathed warmth whereof deliver me, and Jupply the place for your labour. Your (wife, fo I would fay) affectionate Oh, |