Shakespeare's First Folio Part 612

Edg. This is aboue all strangenesse, Vpon the crowne o'th' Cliffe. What thing was that Which parted from you?

Glou. A poore vnfortunate Beggar

Edg. As I stood heere below, me thought his eyes Were two full Moones: he had a thousand Noses, Hornes wealk'd, and waued like the enraged Sea: It was some Fiend: Therefore thou happy Father, Thinke that the cleerest G.o.ds, who make them Honors Of mens Impossibilities, haue preserued thee

Glou. I do remember now: henceforth Ile beare Affliction, till it do cry out it selfe Enough, enough, and dye. That thing you speake of, I tooke it for a man: often 'twould say The Fiend, the Fiend, he led me to that place

Edgar. Beare free and patient thoughts.

Enter Lear.

But who comes heere?

The safer sense will ne're accommodate His Master thus

Lear. No, they cannot touch me for crying. I am the King himselfe

Edg. O thou side-piercing sight!

Lear. Nature's aboue Art, in that respect. Ther's your Presse-money. That fellow handles his bow, like a Crowkeeper: draw mee a Cloathiers yard. Looke, looke, a Mouse: peace, peace, this peece of toasted Cheese will doo't. There's my Gauntlet, Ile proue it on a Gyant.

Bring vp the browne Billes. O well flowne Bird: i'th'

clout, i'th' clout: Hewgh. Giue the word

Edg. Sweet Mariorum

Lear. Pa.s.se

Glou. I know that voice

Lear. Ha! Gonerill with a white beard? They flatter'd me like a Dogge, and told mee I had the white hayres in my Beard, ere the blacke ones were there. To say I, and no, to euery thing that I said: I, and no too, was no good Diuinity. When the raine came to wet me once, and the winde to make me chatter: when the Thunder would not peace at my bidding, there I found 'em, there I smelt 'em out. Go too, they are not men o'their words; they told me, I was euery thing: 'Tis a Lye, I am not Agu-proofe

Glou. The tricke of that voyce, I do well remember: Is't not the King?

Lear. I, euery inch a King.

When I do stare, see how the Subiect quakes.

I pardon that mans life. What was thy cause?

Adultery? thou shalt not dye: dye for Adultery?

No, the Wren goes too't, and the small gilded Fly Do's letcher in my sight. Let Copulation thriue: For Glousters b.a.s.t.a.r.d Son was kinder to his Father, Then my Daughters got 'tweene the lawfull sheets.

Too't Luxury pell-mell, for I lacke Souldiers.

Behold yond simpring Dame, whose face betweene her Forkes presages Snow; that minces Vertue, & do's shake the head to heare of pleasures name. The Fitchew, nor the soyled Horse goes too't with a more riotous appet.i.te: Downe from the waste they are Centaures, though Women all aboue: but to the Girdle do the G.o.ds inherit, beneath is all the Fiends. There's h.e.l.l, there's darkenes, there is the sulphurous pit; burning, scalding, stench, consumption: Fye, fie, fie; pah, pah: Giue me an Ounce of Ciuet; good Apothecary sweeten my immagination: There's money for thee

Glou. O let me kisse that hand

Lear. Let me wipe it first, It smelles of Mortality

Glou. O ruin'd peece of Nature, this great world Shall so weare out to naught.

Do'st thou know me?

Lear. I remember thine eyes well enough: dost thou squiny at me? No, doe thy worst blinde Cupid, Ile not loue. Reade thou this challenge, marke but the penning of it

Glou. Were all thy Letters Sunnes, I could not see

Edg. I would not take this from report, It is, and my heart breakes at it

Lear. Read

Glou. What with the Case of eyes?

Lear. Oh ho, are you there with me? No eies in your head, nor no mony in your purse? Your eyes are in a heauy case, your purse in a light, yet you see how this world goes

Glou. I see it feelingly

Lear. What, art mad? A man may see how this world goes, with no eyes. Looke with thine eares: See how yond Iustice railes vpon yond simple theefe. Hearke in thine eare: Change places, and handy-dandy, which is the Iustice, which is the theefe: Thou hast seene a Farmers dogge barke at a Beggar?

Glou. I Sir

Lear. And the Creature run from the Cur: there thou might'st behold the great image of Authoritie, a Dogg's obey'd in Office. Thou, Rascall Beadle, hold thy b.l.o.o.d.y hand: why dost thou lash that Wh.o.r.e? Strip thy owne backe, thou hotly l.u.s.ts to vse her in that kind, for which thou whip'st her. The Vsurer hangs the Cozener. Thorough tatter'd cloathes great Vices do appeare: Robes, and Furr'd gownes hide all. Place sinnes with Gold, and the strong Lance of Iustice, hurtlesse breakes: Arme it in ragges, a Pigmies straw do's pierce it. None do's offend, none, I say none, Ile able 'em; take that of me my Friend, who haue the power to seale th' accusers lips. Get thee gla.s.se-eyes, and like a scuruy Politician, seeme to see the things thou dost not. Now, now, now, now. Pull off my Bootes: harder, harder, so

Edg. O matter, and impertinency mixt, Reason in Madnesse

Lear. If thou wilt weepe my Fortunes, take my eyes.

I know thee well enough, thy name is Glouster: Thou must be patient; we came crying hither: Thou know'st, the first time that we smell the Ayre We wawle, and cry. I will preach to thee: Marke

Glou. Alacke, alacke the day

Lear. When we are borne, we cry that we are come To this great stage of Fooles. This a good blocke: It were a delicate stratagem to shoo A Troope of Horse with Felt: Ile put't in proofe, And when I haue stolne vpon these Son in Lawes, Then kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill.

Enter a Gentleman.

Gent. Oh heere he is: lay hand vpon him, Sir.

Your most deere Daughter- Lear. No rescue? What, a Prisoner? I am euen The Naturall Foole of Fortune. Vse me well, You shall haue ransome. Let me haue Surgeons, I am cut to'th' Braines

Gent. You shall haue any thing

Lear. No Seconds? All my selfe?

Why, this would make a man, a man of Salt To vse his eyes for Garden water-pots. I wil die brauely, Like a smugge Bridegroome. What? I will be Iouiall: Come, come, I am a King, Masters, know you that?

Gent. You are a Royall one, and we obey you

Lear. Then there's life in't. Come, and you get it, You shall get it by running: Sa, sa, sa, sa.

Enter.

Gent. A sight most pittifull in the meanest wretch, Past speaking of in a King. Thou hast a Daughter Who redeemes Nature from the generall curse Which twaine haue brought her to

Edg. Haile gentle Sir

Gent. Sir, speed you: what's your will?

Edg. Do you heare ought (Sir) of a Battell toward

Gent. Most sure, and vulgar: Euery one heares that, which can distinguish sound

Edg. But by your fauour: How neere's the other Army?

Gent. Neere, and on speedy foot: the maine descry Stands on the hourely thought

Edg. I thanke you Sir, that's all

Gent. Though that the Queen on special cause is here Her Army is mou'd on.

Enter.