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Glou. I see it feelingly |
Lear. What, art mad? A man may see how this world |
goes, with no eyes. Looke with thine eares: See how |
yond Iustice railes vpon yond simple theefe. Hearke in |
thine eare: Change places, and handy-dandy, which is |
the Iustice, which is the theefe: Thou hast seene a Farmers |
dogge barke at a Beggar? |
Glou. I Sir |
Lear. And the Creature run from the Cur: there thou |
might'st behold the great image of Authoritie, a Dogg's |
obey'd in Office. Thou, Rascall Beadle, hold thy bloody |
hand: why dost thou lash that Whore? Strip thy owne |
backe, thou hotly lusts to vse her in that kind, for which |
thou whip'st her. The Vsurer hangs the Cozener. Thorough |
tatter'd cloathes great Vices do appeare: Robes, |
and Furr'd gownes hide all. Place sinnes with Gold, and |
the strong Lance of Iustice, hurtlesse breakes: Arme it in |
ragges, a Pigmies straw do's pierce it. None do's offend, |
none, I say none, Ile able 'em; take that of me my Friend, |
who haue the power to seale th' accusers lips. Get thee |
glasse-eyes, and like a scuruy Politician, seeme to see the |
things thou dost not. Now, now, now, now. Pull off my |
Bootes: harder, harder, so |
Edg. O matter, and impertinency mixt, |
Reason in Madnesse |
Lear. If thou wilt weepe my Fortunes, take my eyes. |
I know thee well enough, thy name is Glouster: |
Thou must be patient; we came crying hither: |
Thou know'st, the first time that we smell the Ayre |
We wawle, and cry. I will preach to thee: Marke |
Glou. Alacke, alacke the day |
Lear. When we are borne, we cry that we are come |
To this great stage of Fooles. This a good blocke: |
It were a delicate stratagem to shoo |
A Troope of Horse with Felt: Ile put't in proofe, |
And when I haue stolne vpon these Son in Lawes, |
Then kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill. |
Enter a Gentleman. |
Gent. Oh heere he is: lay hand vpon him, Sir. |
Your most deere Daughter- |
Lear. No rescue? What, a Prisoner? I am euen |
The Naturall Foole of Fortune. Vse me well, |
You shall haue ransome. Let me haue Surgeons, |
I am cut to'th' Braines |
Gent. You shall haue any thing |
Lear. No Seconds? All my selfe? |
Why, this would make a man, a man of Salt |
To vse his eyes for Garden water-pots. I wil die brauely, |
Like a smugge Bridegroome. What? I will be Iouiall: |
Come, come, I am a King, Masters, know you that? |
Gent. You are a Royall one, and we obey you |
Lear. Then there's life in't. Come, and you get it, |
You shall get it by running: Sa, sa, sa, sa. |
Enter. |
Gent. A sight most pittifull in the meanest wretch, |
Past speaking of in a King. Thou hast a Daughter |
Who redeemes Nature from the generall curse |
Which twaine haue brought her to |
Edg. Haile gentle Sir |
Gent. Sir, speed you: what's your will? |
Edg. Do you heare ought (Sir) of a Battell toward |
Gent. Most sure, and vulgar: |
Euery one heares that, which can distinguish sound |
Edg. But by your fauour: |
How neere's the other Army? |
Gent. Neere, and on speedy foot: the maine descry |
Stands on the hourely thought |
Edg. I thanke you Sir, that's all |
Gent. Though that the Queen on special cause is here |
Her Army is mou'd on. |
Enter. |
Edg. I thanke you Sir |
Glou. You euer gentle Gods, take my breath from me, |
Let not my worser Spirit tempt me againe |
To dye before you please |
Edg. Well pray you Father |
Glou. Now good sir, what are you? |
Edg. A most poore man, made tame to Fortunes blows |
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