The Complete Works of William Shakespeare Part 284

Speak.

Glou. I have a letter guessingly set down, Which came from one that's of a neutral heart, And not from one oppos'd.

Corn. Cunning.

Reg. And false.

Corn. Where hast thou sent the King?

Glou. To Dover.

Reg. Wherefore to Dover? Wast thou not charg'd at peril- Corn. Wherefore to Dover? Let him first answer that.

Glou. I am tied to th' stake, and I must stand the course.

Reg. Wherefore to Dover, sir?

Glou. Because I would not see thy cruel nails Pluck out his poor old eyes; nor thy fierce sister In his anointed flesh stick boarish fangs.

The sea, with such a storm as his bare head In h.e.l.l-black night endur'd, would have buoy'd up And quench'd the steeled fires.

Yet, poor old heart, he holp the heavens to rain.

If wolves had at thy gate howl'd that stern time, Thou shouldst have said, 'Good porter, turn the key.'

All cruels else subscrib'd. But I shall see The winged vengeance overtake such children.

Corn. See't shalt thou never. Fellows, hold the chair.

Upon these eyes of thine I'll set my foot.

Glou. He that will think to live till he be old, Give me some help!- O cruel! O ye G.o.ds!

Reg. One side will mock another. Th' other too!

Corn. If you see vengeance- 1. Serv. Hold your hand, my lord!

I have serv'd you ever since I was a child; But better service have I never done you Than now to bid you hold.

Reg. How now, you dog?

1. Serv. If you did wear a beard upon your chin, I'ld shake it on this quarrel.

Reg. What do you mean?

Corn. My villain! Draw and fight.

1. Serv. Nay, then, come on, and take the chance of anger.

Reg. Give me thy sword. A peasant stand up thus?

She takes a sword and runs at him behind.

1. Serv. O, I am slain! My lord, you have one eye left To see some mischief on him. O! He dies.

Corn. Lest it see more, prevent it. Out, vile jelly!

Where is thy l.u.s.tre now?

Glou. All dark and comfortless! Where's my son Edmund?

Edmund, enkindle all the sparks of nature To quit this horrid act.

Reg. Out, treacherous villain!

Thou call'st on him that hates thee. It was he That made the overture of thy treasons to us; Who is too good to pity thee.

Glou. O my follies! Then Edgar was abus'd.

Kind G.o.ds, forgive me that, and prosper him!

Reg. Go thrust him out at gates, and let him smell His way to Dover.

Exit [one] with Gloucester.

How is't, my lord? How look you?

Corn. I have receiv'd a hurt. Follow me, lady.

Turn out that eyeless villain. Throw this slave Upon the dunghill. Regan, I bleed apace.

Untimely comes this hurt. Give me your arm.

Exit [Cornwall, led by Regan].

2. Serv. I'll never care what wickedness I do, If this man come to good.

3. Serv. If she live long, And in the end meet the old course of death, Women will all turn monsters.

2. Serv. Let's follow the old Earl, and get the bedlam To lead him where he would. His roguish madness Allows itself to anything.

3. Serv. Go thou. I'll fetch some flax and whites of eggs To apply to his bleeding face. Now heaven help him!

Exeunt.

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ACT IV. Scene I.

The heath.

Enter Edgar.

Edg. Yet better thus, and known to be contemn'd, Than still contemn'd and flatter'd. To be worst, The lowest and most dejected thing of fortune, Stands still in esperance, lives not in fear.

The lamentable change is from the best; The worst returns to laughter. Welcome then, Thou unsubstantial air that I embrace!

The wretch that thou hast blown unto the worst Owes nothing to thy blasts.

Enter Gloucester, led by an Old Man.

But who comes here?

My father, poorly led? World, world, O world!

But that thy strange mutations make us hate thee, Life would not yield to age.

Old Man. O my good lord, I have been your tenant, and your father's tenant, These fourscore years.

Glou. Away, get thee away! Good friend, be gone.

Thy comforts can do me no good at all; Thee they may hurt.

Old Man. You cannot see your way.

Glou. I have no way, and therefore want no eyes; I stumbled when I saw. Full oft 'tis seen Our means secure us, and our mere defects Prove our commodities. Ah dear son Edgar, The food of thy abused father's wrath!

Might I but live to see thee in my touch, I'ld say I had eyes again!

Old Man. How now? Who's there?

Edg. [aside] O G.o.ds! Who is't can say 'I am at the worst'?

I am worse than e'er I was.

Old Man. 'Tis poor mad Tom.

Edg. [aside] And worse I may be yet. The worst is not So long as we can say 'This is the worst.'

Old Man. Fellow, where goest?

Glou. Is it a beggarman?

Old Man. Madman and beggar too.

Glou. He has some reason, else he could not beg.

I' th' last night's storm I such a fellow saw, Which made me think a man a worm. My son Came then into my mind, and yet my mind Was then scarce friends with him. I have heard more since.

As flies to wanton boys are we to th' G.o.ds.

They kill us for their sport.

Edg. [aside] How should this be?

Bad is the trade that must play fool to sorrow, Ang'ring itself and others.- Bless thee, master!

Glou. Is that the naked fellow?

Old Man. Ay, my lord.

Glou. Then prithee get thee gone. If for my sake Thou wilt o'ertake us hence a mile or twain I' th' way toward Dover, do it for ancient love; And bring some covering for this naked soul, Who I'll entreat to lead me.

Old Man. Alack, sir, he is mad!

Glou. 'Tis the time's plague when madmen lead the blind.

Do as I bid thee, or rather do thy pleasure.

Above the rest, be gone.

Old Man. I'll bring him the best 'parel that I have, Come on't what will. Exit.

Glou. Sirrah naked fellow- Edg. Poor Tom's acold. [Aside] I cannot daub it further.

Glou. Come hither, fellow.