Page 32
104
The
Tragedy
of
King
Lear.
Lost
he
his
other
Eye?
Mes.
Both,
both,
my
Lord.
This
Letter
Madam,
craves
a
speedy
Answer:
'Tis
from
your
Sister.
Gon.
One
way
I
like
this
well,
But
being
Widow,
and
my
Gloster
with
her,
May
all
the
building
in
my
fancy
pluck
Upon
my
hateful
life.
Another
way
The
News
is
not
so
tart.
I’ll
read,
and
answer.
Alba.
Where
was
his
Son,
When
they
did
take
his
Eyes?
Mes.
Come
with
my
Lady
hither.
Alba.
He
is
not
here.
Mes.
No,
my
good
Lord,
I
met
him
back
again.
Alba.
Knows
he
the
wickedness?
Mes.
I,
my
good
Lord:
’twas
he
inform’d
against
him,
And
quit
the
House
of
purpose,
that
their
punishment
Might
have
the
freer
course.
Alb.
Gloster,
I
live
To
thank
thee
for
the
love
thou
shewd’st
the
King,
And
to
revenge
thine
Eyes.
Come
hither
Friend,
Tell
me
what
more
thou
know’st.
[Exeunt.
Scena
Tertia.
Enter
with
Drum
and
Colours,
Cordelia,
Gentlemen,
and
Souldiers.
Cor.
Alack,
’tis
he:
why
he
was
met
even
now
As
made
the
vext
Sea,
singing
aloud,
Crown’d
with
rank
Fenitar,
and
furrow
weeds,
With
Hardocks,
Hemlock,
Nettles,
Cuckow
Flowers,
Darnel,
and
all
the
idle
weeds
that
grow
In
our
sustaining
Corn.
A
Century
send
forth;
Search
every
Acre
in
the
high-grown
Field,
And
bring
him
to
our
Eye.
What
can
mans
wisdom
In
the
restoring
his
bereaved
Sense:
he
that
helps
him,
Take
all
my
outward
worth.
Gent.
There
is
means,
Madam:
Our
foster
Nurse
of
Nature,
is
repose,
The
which
he
lacks:
that
to
provoke
in
him,
Are
many
Simples
operative,
whose
power
Will
close
the
Eye
of
Anguish.
Cord.
All
blest
Secrets,
All
you
unpublish’d
Vertues
of
the
Earth
Spring
with
my
tears;
be
aidant,
and
remediate
In
the
good
mans
desire:
seek,
seek
for
him,
Lest
his
ungovern’d
rage,
dissolve
the
life
That
wants
the
means
to
lead
it.
Enter
a
Messenger.
Mes.
News,
Madam,
The
Brittish
Powers
are
marching
hitherward.
Cord.
’Tis
known
before.
Our
preparation
stands
In
expectation
of
them.
O
dear
Father,
It
is
thy
business
that
I
go
about:
therefore
great
France
My
mourning,
and
importun’d
tears
hath
pittied:
Now
blown
Ambition
doth
our
Arms
incite,
But
love,
dear
love,
and
our
ag’d
Fathers
Right:
Soon
may
I
hear,
and
see
him.
[Exeunt.
Scena
Quarta.
Enter
Regan,
and
Steward.
Reg.
But
are
my
Brothers
Powers
set
forth?
Stew.
I,
Madam.
Reg.
Himself
in
person
there?
Stew.
Madam,
with
much
adoe
Your
Sister
is
the
better
Souldier.
Reg.
Lord
Edmund
spake
not
with
your
Lord
at
home;
Stew.
No,
Madam.
Reg.
What
might
import
my
Sisters
Letter
to
him?
Stew.
I
know
not,
Lady.
Reg.
Faith
he
is
posted
hence
on
serious
matter:
It
was
great
ignorance.
Glosters
Eyes
being
out
To
let
him
live.
Where
he
arrives,
he
moves
All
hearts
against
us:
Edmund,
I
think,
is
gone
In
pitty
of
his
misery,
to
dispatch
His
nighted
life:
Moreover
to
descry
The
strength
oth’
Enemy.
Stew.
I
must
needs
after
him,
Madam,
with
my
Letter.
Reg.
Our
Troops
set
forth
to
morrow,
stay
with
us:
The
wayes
are
dangerous.
Stew.
I
may
not,
Madam:
My
Lady
charg’d
my
duty
in
his
business.
Reg.
Why
should
she
write
to
Edmund?
Might
not
you
transport
her
purposes
by
word?
Belike,
Some
things,
I
know
not
what,
I’ll
love
the
much
Let
me
unseal
the
Letter.
Stew.
Madam,
I
had
rather
Reg.
I
know
your
Lady
do’s
not
love
her
Husband,
I
am
sure
of
that:
and
at
her
late
being
here,
She
gave
strange
Iliads,
and
most
speaking
looks
To
Noble
Edmund.
I
know
you
are
of
her
bosome.
Stew.
I,
Madam?
Reg.
I
speak
in
understanding:
Y’are:
I
know’t,
Therefore
I
do
advise
you
take
this
note:
My
Lord
is
dead:
Edmund,
and
I
have
talk’d,
And
more
convenient
is
he
for
my
hand
Than
for
your
Ladies:
You
may
gather
more:
If
you
do
find
him,
pray
you
give
him
this;
And
when
your
Mistriss
hears
thus
much
from
you,
I
pray
desire
her
call
her
wisdom
to
her.
So
fare
you
well:
If
you
do
chance
to
hear
of
that
blind
Traytor,
Preferment
falls
on
him,
that
cuts
him
off.
Stew.
Would
I
could
meet
him,
Madam,
I
should
shew
What
party
I
do
follow.
Reg.
Fare
thee
well.
[Exeunt.
Scena
Quinta.
Enter
Gloster,
and
Edgar.
Glo.
When
shall
I
come
to
th’
top
of
that
same
Hill?
Edg.
You
do
climb
up
it
now.
Look
how
we
labour.
Glo.
Me
thinks
the
ground
is
even.
Edg.
Horrible
steep,
Hark,
do
you
hear
the
Sea?
Glo.
No
truly.
Edg.
Why
then
your
other
Senses
grow
imperfect
By
your
Eyes
anguish,
Glo.
So
may
it
be
indeed.
Me
thinks
thy
Voice
is
alter’d,
and
thou
speak’st
In
better
phrase,
and
matter
than
thou
didst.
Edg.
Y’are
much
deceiv’d:
in
nothing
am
I
chang’d
But
in
my
Garments.
Glo.
Me
thinks
y’are
better
spoken.
Edg.
Come
on
Sir,
Heres
the
place:
stand
still:
how
fearful
And
dizzy
’tis,
to
call
ones
Eyes
so
low,
The
Crows
and
Choughs,
that
wing
the
midway
air
Shew
scarce
so
gross
as
Beetles.
Half
way
down
Hangs
one
that
gathers
Sampire:
dreadful
trade:
Me
thinks
he
seems
no
bigger
than
his
head.
The
Fishermen
that
walk’d
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
th’
unnumbred
idle
Pebble
chafes
Cannot
be
heard
so
high.
I’ll
look
no
more,
Lest
my
brain
turn,
and
the
deficient
sight
Topple
down
headlong.
Glo.