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Bind fast his arms.

Glo. What mean your graces ?
You are my guests ; pray do me no foul play.

Corn. Bind him [they bind him], I say, hard, harder yet.
Reg. Now, traitor, thou shalt find

Corn. Speak, rebel, where hast thou sent the King ?
Whom, spite of our decree, thou saved’st last night.

Glo. I'm tied to th' stake, and I must stand the course.
Reg. Say where and wby, thou has conceal'd him, traitor.

Glo. Because I would not see thy cruel hands
Tear out his poor old eyes, nor the fierce sister
Carve his anointed flesh; but I shall see
The swift-wing'd vengeance overtake such children.
Corn. Sees't thou shalt never ; slaves, perform your work.

[Servants take Gloster out. Out with those treacherous eyes; dispatch, I say.

Glo. (within). He that will think to live 'till he be old,
Give me some help–O cruel! oh ye gods !

Edw. Hold, hold, my lord, I bar your cruelty ;
I cannot love your safety, and give way
To such inhuman practice.

Corn. Ah, my villain !

Edw. I have been your servant from my infancy ;
But better service have I never done you,
Than with this boldness.
Corn. Take thy death, slave.

[Stabs Edward, and puts up his dagger. Edw. Nay, then, revenge, whilst yet my blood is warm!

[Draws his sword, runs Cornwall through the body,

and is carried off by two guards, R. H. Corn.

wall is supported by servants. Reg. Help here—are you not hurt, my lord ?

Glo. (within). Edmund, enkindle all the sparks of nature To quit this horrid act.

Old Man. Ay, my lord.

Glo. Get thee away: If for my sake,
Thou wilt oretake us hence a mile or twaine
I'th' way tow'rd Dover, do it for ancient love;
And bring some covering for his naked soule,
Whom I'll intreate to leade me.

Old Man. Alack, sir, he is mad.

Glo. 'Tis the time's plague
(When madmen leade the blind):
Do as I bid, or rather do thy pleasure;
Above the rest, be gone.

Old Man. I'le bring him the best Parrel that I have,
Come on't what will.

Glo. Sirrah, naked fellow.
Edg. Poor Tom's a-cold ;-I cannot daub it further.
Glo. Come hither, fellow.

Edg. And yet I must;
Blesse thy sweete eyes, they bleede.

Glo. Know'st thou the way to Dover ?

Edg. Both style and gate, horseway, and footpath : poor Tom hath been scard out of his good wits. Blesse thee goodman's sonne, from the foul fiend.

Glo. Here, take this purse, thou whom the heav'ns plagues
Have humbled to all strokes : That I am wretched,
Makes thee the happier : Heavens deale so still :
Let the superfluous, and lust-dieted man,
That slaves your ordinance, that will not see
Because he do's not feele, feele your powre quickly:
So distribution should undoo excess,
And each man have enough. Dost thou know Dover?

Edg. Ay, master.
Glo. There is a cliffe whose high and bending head

Reg. Out, treacherous villain,
Thou call'st on him that hates thee; it was he
That broach'd thy treason, show'd us thy dispatches ;
There-read, and save the Cambrian prince a labour,

[Throws the letter out to him.
Glo. (within). O my folly!
Then Edgar was abused ; kind gods, forgive me that!
Reg. How is ’t my lord ?

[To Cornwall. Corn. Turn out that eyeless villain, let him smell His way to Cambray; throw this slave upon a dunghill. Regan, I bleed apace; give me your arm.

[Exeunt Regan and Cornwall.

Enter Edgar in disguise.
Edg. The lowest and most abject thing of fortune
Stands still in hope, and is secure from fear.
The lamentable change is from the best,
The worst returns to better. Who comes here ?

[Retires a little up the stage.

Enter GLOSTER led by an OLD MAN.
My father poorly led ! deprived of sight,
The precious stones torn from their bleeding rings !
When will the measure of my woes be full ?

Old Man. O, my good lord, I have been your tenant
And your father's tenant, these forescore years.

Glo. 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.

Glo. I have no way, and therefore want no eyes ;
I stumbled when I saw : 0 dear son Edgar!
The food of thy abused father's wrath,
Might I but live to see thee in my touch,
I'd say I had eyes again.

Edg. Alas! he's sensible that I was wronged,

Looks fearfully in the confined deep:
Bring me but to the very brimme of it,
And I'le repayre the misery thou doʻst bear,
With something rich about me: from that place
I shall no leading neede.

Edg. Give me thy arme ;
Poore Tom shall leade thee.

Scena Secunda.
Gon. Welcome, my lord. I marvell, our mild husband
Not met us on the way.
Now, where's your master ?

Stew. Madam, within ; but never man so chang'd;
I told him of the army that was landed :
He smil'd at it. I told him you were comming,
His answer was, the worse. Of Gloster's treachery,
And of the loyal service of his sonne
When I informed him, then he call'd me sot;
And told me I had turn'd the wrong side out.
What most he should dislike, seems pleasant to him;
What like, offensive.

Gon. Then shall you go no further.
It is the cowish terrour of his spirit,
That dares not undertake: he'll not feele wrongs
Which tye him to an answer; our wishes on the way
May prove effects. Backe, Edmund, to my brother ;
Hasten his musters, and conduct his powres,
I must change names at home, and give the distaff
Into my husband's hands. This trustie servant
Shall passe betweene us : e'er long you are like to heare
(If you dare venture in your owne behalfe)

And should I own myself, his tender heart
Would break betwixt the extremes of grief and joy. [Aside.

Old Man. How now? who's there?

Edg. (advancing R. H. of Gloucester). A charity for poor Tom. Play fair and defy the foul fiend. O gods! and must I still pursue this trade, Trifling beneatlı such loads of misery ?

Old Man. 'Tis poor mad Tom.

Glo. In the late storm I such a fellow saw,
Which made me think a man a worm.
Where is the lunatick?

Old Man. Here, my lord.

Glo. Get thee now away; if for my sake
Thou wilt o’ertake us hence a mile or two,
I'th' way to Dover, do't for ancient love,
And bring some cor'ring for this naked wretch,
Whom I'll intreat to lead me.

Old Man. Alack, my lord, he's mad.

Glo. 'Tis the times' plague, when madmen lead the blind ; Do as I bid thee.

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

Glo. Sirrah, naked fellow.

Edg. Poor Tom 's a-cold; I cannot fool it longer ; [Aside. And yet I must.-Bless thy sweet eyes, they bleed ; Believe 't, poor Tom ev'n weeps his blind to see 'em.

Glo. Knows't thou the way to Dover?

Edg. Both stile and gate, horseway and footpath.
Poor Tom has been scared out of his good wits. Bless
Every true man's son from the foul fiend.

Glo. Here, take this purse ; that I am wretched
Makes thee the happier. Heav'n deal so still!
Thus let the griping usurer's hoard be scatter'd,
So distribution shall undo excess,
And each man have enough. Dost thou know Dover?

Edg. Ay, master.

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