Act IV, Scene vi: The country near Dover.
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[Enter Gloster, and Edgar dressed like a peasant.]
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| | Glou.: | |
| | When shall I come to the top of that same hill? | |
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| | Edg.: | |
| | You do climb up it now: look, how we labour. | |
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| | Glou.: | |
| | Methinks the ground is even. | |
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| | Edg.: | |
| | Horrible steep. | |
| | Hark, do you hear the sea? | |
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| | Edg.: | |
| | Why, then, your other senses grow imperfect | |
| | By your eyes' anguish. | |
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| | Glou.: | |
| | So may it be indeed: | |
| | Methinks thy voice is alter'd; and thou speak'st | |
| | In better phrase and matter than thou didst. | |
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| | Edg.: | |
| | You are much deceiv'd: in nothing am I chang'd | |
| | But in my garments. | |
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| | Glou.: | |
| | Methinks you're better spoken. | |
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| | 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 | |
| | Show scarce so gross as beetles: half way down | |
| | Hangs one that gathers samphire—dreadful trade! | |
| | Methinks he seems no bigger than his head: | |
| | The fishermen that walk upon the beach | |
| | Appear like mice; and yond tall anchoring bark, | |
| | Diminish'd to her cock; her cock a buoy | |
| | Almost too small for sight: the murmuring surge | |
| | That on the unnumber'd idle pebble chafes | |
| | Cannot be heard so high.—I'll look no more; | |
| | Lest my brain turn, and the deficient sight | |
| | Topple down headlong. | |
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| | Glou.: | |
| | Set me where you stand. | |
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| | Edg.: | |
| | Give me your hand:—you are now within a foot | |
| | Of th' extreme verge: for all beneath the moon | |
| | Would I not leap upright. | |
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| | Glou.: | |
| | Let go my hand. | |
| | Here, friend, 's another purse; in it a jewel | |
| | Well worth a poor man's taking: fairies and gods | |
| | Prosper it with thee! Go thou further off; | |
| | Bid me farewell, and let me hear thee going. | |
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| | Edg.: | |
| | Now fare ye well, good sir. | |
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| | Glou.: | |
| | With all my heart. | |
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| | Edg.: | |
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[Aside.]
Why I do trifle thus with his despair
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| | Is done to cure it. | |
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| | Glou.: | |
| | O you mighty gods! | |
| | This world I do renounce, and, in your sights, | |
| | Shake patiently my great affliction off: | |
| | If I could bear it longer, and not fall | |
| | To quarrel with your great opposeless wills, | |
| | My snuff and loathed part of nature should | |
| | Burn itself out. If Edgar live, O, bless him!— | |
| | Now, fellow, fare thee well. | |
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| | Edg.: | |
| | Gone, sir:—farewell.— | |
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[Gloster leaps, and falls along.]
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| | 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? | |
| | Ho you, sir! friend! Hear you, sir?—speak!— | |
| | Thus might he pass indeed:—yet he revives.— | |
| | What are you, sir? | |
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| | Glou.: | |
| | Away, and let me die. | |
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| | 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 is a miracle.—Speak yet again. | |
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| | Glou.: | |
| | But have I fall'n, or no? | |
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| | Edg.: | |
| | From the dread summit of this chalky bourn. | |
| | Look up a-height;—the shrill-gorg'd lark so far | |
| | Cannot be seen or heard: do but look up. | |
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| | Glou.: | |
| | Alack, I have no eyes.— | |
| | Is wretchedness depriv'd that benefit | |
| | To end itself by death? 'Twas yet some comfort | |
| | When misery could beguile the tyrant's rage | |
| | And frustrate his proud will. | |
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| | Edg.: | |
| | Give me your arm: | |
| | Up:—so.—How is't? Feel you your legs? You stand. | |
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| | Glou.: | |
| | Too well, too well. | |
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| | Edg.: | |
| | This is above all strangeness. | |
| | Upon the crown o' the cliff what thing was that | |
| | Which parted from you? | |
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| | Glou.: | |
| | A poor unfortunate beggar. | |
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| | Edg.: | |
| | As I stood here below, methought his eyes | |
| | Were two full moons; he had a thousand noses, | |
| | Horns whelk'd and wav'd like the enridged sea: | |
| | It was some fiend; therefore, thou happy father, | |
| | Think that the clearest gods, who make them honours | |
| | Of men's impossibility, have preserv'd thee. | |
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| | Glou.: | |
| | I do remember now: henceforth I'll bear | |
| | Affliction till it do cry out itself, | |
| | 'Enough, enough,' and die. That thing you speak of, | |
| | I took it for a man; often 'twould say, | |
| | 'The fiend, the fiend':—he led me to that place. | |
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| | Edg.: | |
| | Bear free and patient thoughts.—But who comes here? | |
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[Enter Lear, fantastically dressed up with flowers.]
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| | The safer sense will ne'er accommodate | |
| | His master thus. | |
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| | Lear.: | |
| | No, they cannot touch me for coining; | |
| | I am the king himself. | |
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| | Edg.: | |
| | O thou side-piercing sight! | |
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| | Lear.: | |
| | Nature 's above art in that respect.—There's your press money. | |
| | That fellow handles his bow like a crow-keeper: draw me a | |
| | clothier's yard.—Look, look, a mouse! Peace, peace;—this piece | |
| | of toasted cheese will do't. There's my gauntlet; I'll prove it | |
| | on a giant.—Bring up the brown bills. O, well flown, bird!—i' | |
| | the clout, i' the clout: hewgh!—Give the word. | |
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| | Glou.: | |
| | I know that voice. | |
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| | Lear.: | |
| | Ha! Goneril with a white beard!—They flattered me like a dog; | |
| | and told me I had white hairs in my beard ere the black ones were | |
| | there. To say 'ay' and 'no' to everything I said!—'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 everything; 'tis a | |
| | lie—I am not ague-proof. | |
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| | Glou.: | |
| | The trick of that voice I do well remember: | |
| | Is't not the king? | |
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| | Lear.: | |
| | Ay, every inch a king: | |
| | When I do stare, see how the subject 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 small gilded fly | |
| | Does lecher in my sight. | |
| | Let copulation thrive; for Gloster's bastard son | |
| | Was kinder to his father than my daughters | |
| | Got 'tween the lawful sheets. | |
| | To't, luxury, pell-mell! for I lack soldiers.— | |
| | Behold yond simpering dame, | |
| | Whose face between her forks presages snow; | |
| | That minces virtue, and does shake the head | |
| | To hear of pleasure's name;— | |
| | The fitchew nor the soiled horse goes to't | |
| | 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 fiend's; 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. | |
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| | Glou.: | |
| | O, let me kiss that hand! | |
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| | Lear.: | |
| | Let me wipe it first; it smells of mortality. | |
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| | Glou.: | |
| | O ruin'd piece of nature! This great world | |
| | Shall so wear out to naught.—Dost thou know me? | |
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| | 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. | |
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| | Glou.: | |
| | Were all the letters suns, I could not see one. | |
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| | Edg.: | |
| | I would not take this from report;—it is, | |
| | And my heart breaks at it. | |
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| | Glou.: | |
| | What, with the case of eyes? | |
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| | 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. | |
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| | Glou.: | |
| | I see it feelingly. | |
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| | Lear.: | |
| | What, art mad? A man may see how the world goes with no eyes. | |
| | Look with thine ears: see how yond justice rails upon yond simple | |
| | thief. Hark, in thine ear: change places; and, handy-dandy, which | |
| | is the justice, which is the thief?—Thou hast seen a farmer's | |
| | dog bark at a beggar? | |
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| | 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 pygmy's straw does 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 | |
| | To see the things thou dost not.—Now, now, now, now: | |
| | Pull off my boots: harder, harder:—so. | |
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| | Edg.: | |
| | O, matter and impertinency mix'd! | |
| | Reason, in madness! | |
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| | 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. | |
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| | Glou.: | |
| | Alack, alack the day! | |
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| | 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't in proof,; | |
| | And when I have stol'n upon these sons-in-law, | |
| | Then kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill! | |
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[Enter a Gentleman, with Attendants]
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| | Gent.: | |
| | O, here he is: lay hand upon him.—Sir, | |
| | Your most dear daughter,— | |
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| | Lear.: | |
| | No rescue? What, a prisoner? I am even | |
| | The natural fool of fortune.—Use me well; | |
| | You shall have ransom. Let me have surgeons; | |
| | I am cut to the brains. | |
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| | Gent.: | |
| | You shall have anything. | |
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| | Lear.: | |
| | No seconds? all myself? | |
| | Why, this would make a man a man of salt, | |
| | To use his eyes for garden water-pots, | |
| | Ay, and for laying Autumn's dust. | |
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| | Lear.: | |
| | I will die bravely, like a smug bridegroom. What! | |
| | I will be jovial: come, come, I am a king, | |
| | My masters, know you that. | |
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| | Gent.: | |
| | You are a royal one, and we obey you. | |
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| | Lear.: | |
| | Then there's life in't. Nay, an you get it, you shall get it | |
| | by running. Sa, sa, sa, sa! | |
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[Exit running. Attendants follow.]
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| | Gent.: | |
| | 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. | |
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| | Gent.: | |
| | Sir, speed you. What's your will? | |
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| | Edg.: | |
| | Do you hear aught, sir, of a battle toward? | |
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| | Gent.: | |
| | Most sure and vulgar: every one hears that | |
| | Which can distinguish sound. | |
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| | Edg.: | |
| | But, by your favour, | |
| | How near's the other army? | |
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| | Gent.: | |
| | Near and on speedy foot; the main descry | |
| | Stands on the hourly thought. | |
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| | Edg.: | |
| | I thank you sir: that's all. | |
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| | Gent.: | |
| | Though that the queen on special cause is here, | |
| | Her army is mov'd on. | |
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| | Glou.: | |
| | You ever-gentle gods, take my breath from me; | |
| | Let not my worser spirit tempt me again | |
| | To die before you please! | |
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| | Edg.: | |
| | Well pray you, father. | |
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| | Glou.: | |
| | Now, good sir, what are you? | |
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| | Edg.: | |
| | A most poor man, made tame to 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. | |
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| | Glou.: | |
| | Hearty thanks: | |
| | The bounty and the benison of heaven | |
| | To boot, and boot! | |
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| | Osw.: | |
| | A proclaim'd prize! Most happy! | |
| | That eyeless head of thine was first fram'd flesh | |
| | To raise my fortunes.—Thou old unhappy traitor, | |
| | Briefly thyself remember:—the sword is out | |
| | That must destroy thee. | |
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| | Glou.: | |
| | Now let thy friendly hand | |
| | Put strength enough to it. | |
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| | Osw.: | |
| | Wherefore, bold peasant, | |
| | Dar'st thou support a publish'd traitor? Hence; | |
| | Lest that the infection of his fortune take | |
| | Like hold on thee. Let go his arm. | |
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| | Edg.: | |
| | Chill not let go, zir, without vurther 'casion. | |
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| | Osw.: | |
| | Let go, slave, or thou diest! | |
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| | Edg.: | |
| | Good gentleman, go your gait, and let poor voke pass. An chud | |
| | ha' bin zwaggered out of my life, 'twould not ha' bin zo long as | |
| | 'tis by a vortnight. Nay, come not near the old man; keep out, | |
| | che vore ye, or ise try whether your costard or my bat be the | |
| | harder: chill be plain with you. | |
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| | Edg.: | |
| | Chill pick your teeth, zir. Come! No matter vor your foins. | |
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[They fight, and Edgar knocks him down.]
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| | Osw.: | |
| | Slave, thou hast slain me:—villain, take my purse: | |
| | If ever thou wilt thrive, bury my body; | |
| | And give the letters which thou find'st about me | |
| | To Edmund Earl of Gloster; seek him out | |
| | Upon the British party: O, untimely death! | |
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[Dies.]
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| | Edg.: | |
| | I know thee well: a serviceable villain; | |
| | As duteous to the vices of thy mistress | |
| | As badness would desire. | |
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| | Edg.: | |
| | Sit you down, father; rest you.— | |
| | Let's see these pockets; the letters that he speaks of | |
| | May be my friends.—He's dead; I am only sorry | |
| | He had no other death's-man. Let us see:— | |
| | Leave, gentle wax; and, manners, blame us not: | |
| | To know our enemies' minds, we'd rip their hearts; | |
| | Their papers is more lawful. | |
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[Reads.]
'Let our reciprocal vows be remembered. You have many
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| | opportunities to cut him off: if your will want not, time and | |
| | place will be fruitfully offered. There is nothing done if he | |
| | return the conqueror: then am I the prisoner, and his bed my | |
| | gaol; from the loathed warmth whereof deliver me, and supply the | |
| | place for your labour. | |
| | 'Your (wife, so I would say) affectionate servant, | |
| | 'Goneril.' | |
| | O indistinguish'd space of woman's will! | |
| | A plot upon her virtuous husband's life; | |
| | And the exchange my brother!—Here in the sands | |
| | Thee I'll rake up, the post unsanctified | |
| | Of murderous lechers: and in the mature time | |
| | With this ungracious paper strike the sight | |
| | Of the death-practis'd duke: for him 'tis well | |
| | That of thy death and business I can tell. | |
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[Exit Edgar, dragging out the body.]
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| | Glou.: | |
| | The king is mad: how stiff is my vile sense, | |
| | That I stand up, and have ingenious feeling | |
| | Of my huge sorrows! Better I were distract: | |
| | So should my thoughts be sever'd from my griefs, | |
| | And woes by wrong imaginations lose | |
| | The knowledge of themselves. | |
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| | Edg.: | |
| | Give me your hand: | |
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[A drum afar off.]
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| | Far off methinks I hear the beaten drum: | |
| | Come, father, I'll bestow you with a friend. | |
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