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With a more riotous appetite.

Down from the waist 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 sulphurous pit, burning, scalding, stench, consumption.-Fie, fie, fie! pah; pah! Give me an ounce of civet, good apothecary, to sweeten my imagination: there's money for thee. Glos. O, let me kiss that hand!

Lear. Let me wipe it first; it smells of mortality. Glos. O ruin'd piece of nature! This great

world

Shall so wear out to naught.-Dost thou know me? Lear. I remember thine eyes well enough. Dost thou squiny at me? No, do thy worst, blind Cupid; I'll not love. Read thou this challenge; mark but the penning of it.

Glos. Were all the letters suns, I could not see

one.

Edg. I would not take this from report ;—it is, And my heart breaks at it.

Lear. Read.

Glos. What, with the case of eyes?

Lear. O, ho, are you there with me? No eyes in your head, nor no money in your purse? Your eyes are in a heavy case, your purse in a light: yet you see how this world goes.

Glos. I see it feelingly.

Lear. What, art mad? A man may see how this

world goes with no eyes: look with thine ears. See how yon justice rails upon yon simple thief. Hark, in thine ear: change places; and, handydandy, which is the justice, which is the thief?— Thou hast seen a farmer's dog bark at a beggar? Glos. Ay, sir.

Lear. And the creature run from the cur? There thou mightst behold the great image of authority; a dog's obeyed in office.

Thou rascal beadle, hold thy bloody hand:

Why dost thou lash that whore? Strip thine own

back;

Thou hotly lust'st to use her in that kind

For which thou whipp'st her. The usurer hangs the

cozener.

Through tatter'd clothes small vices do appear; Robes and furr'd gowns hide all. Plate sin with gold,

And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks;
Arm it in rags, a pigmy's straw doth pierce it.
None does offend, none, I say, none; I'll able 'em :
Take that of me, my friend, who have the power
To seal the accuser's lips. Get thee glass eyes;
And, like a scurvy politician, seem

Το see

the things thou dost not.-Now, now, now,

now:

Pull off my boots :-harder, harder; so.

Edg. O, matter and impertinency mix'd!

Reason in madness!

Lear. If thou wilt weep my fortunes, take my

eyes.

I know thee well enough; thy name is Gloster:
Thou must be patient; we came crying hither.
Thou know'st, the first time that we smell the air,
We wawl and cry:-I will preach to thee; mark

me.

Glos. Alack, alack the day!

Lear. When we are born, we cry, that we are

come

To this great stage of fools.-This a good block?—
It were a delicate stratagem, to shoe

A troop of horse with felt: I'll put it in proof;
And when I have stolen upon these sons-in-law,
Then, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill.

Enter GENTLEMAN, with Attendants.

Gen. O, here he is; lay hand upon him.-Sir, Your most dear daughter

Lear. No rescue? What, a prisoner? I am even The natural fool of fortune.-Use me well;

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Why, this would make a man a man of salt,1

To use his eyes for garden water-pots,

Ay, and for laying autumn's dust.

Gen.

Good sir,

SHAK.

. 1 i. e. a man of tears.

XIII.

Lear. I will die bravely, like a bridegroom.

What?

I will be jovial; come, come; I am a king,

My masters; know you that?

Gen. You are a royal one, and we obey you.

Lear. Then there's life in it. Nay, an you get it, you shall get it by running. Sa, sa, sa, sa.

[Exit, running; Attendants follow.

Gen. A sight most pitiful in the meanest wretch: Past speaking of in a king!-Thou hast one

daughter,

Who redeems Nature from the general curse

Which twain have brought her to.

Edg. Hail, gentle sir.

Gen.

Sir, speed you: what's your will? Edg. Do you hear aught, sir, of a battle toward? Gen. Most sure, and vulgar: every one hears

that,

Which can distinguish sound.

Edg.

How near's the other army?

But, by your favor,

Gen. Near, and on speedy foot; the main descry Stands on the hourly thought.1

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The main body is expected to be descried every hour.

Glos. You ever-gentle gods, take my breath from

me:

Let not my worser spirit1 tempt me again

To die before you please!

Edg.

Well pray you, father.

Glos. Now, good sir, what are you?

Edg. A most poor man, made lame by Fortune's

blows;

Who, by the art of known and feeling sorrows,

Am pregnant to good pity. Give me your hand; I'll lead you to some biding.

Glos.

Hearty thanks: The bounty and the benizon of heaven

To boot, and boot! 3

Enter STEWARD.

Stew.

A proclaim'd prize! Most happy! That eyeless head of thine was first framed flesh To raise my fortunes.-Thou old unhappy traitor, Briefly thyself remember: the sword is out

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Darest thou support a publish'd traitor? Hence ;

Lest that the infection of his fortune take

Like hold on thee. Let go his arm.

1 Evil genius.

3 Reward.

2 Blessing.

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