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Turn out that eyeless villain: throw this slave

Upon the dunghill.— Regan, I bleed apace108:

Untimely109 comes this hurt. Give me your arm.

Exeunt

Act 4 Scene 1

running scene 12

Enter Edgar Disguised as Poor Tom

EDGAR    Yet better thus, and known to be contemned1,

Than still contemned and flattered2. To be worst,

The lowest and most dejected thing of fortune,

Stands still in esperance4, lives not in fear:

The lamentable change is from the best5,

The worst returns to laughter. Welcome, then,

Thou unsubstantial air that I embrace!

The wretch that thou hast blown unto the worst

Owes nothing to thy blasts.

Enter Gloucester and an Old Man

But who comes here? My father, poorly led10?

World, world, O world!

But that thy strange mutations12 make us hate thee,

Life would not yield to age13.

OLD MAN    O, my good lord, I have been your tenant and your

father’s tenant these fourscore15 years.

GLOUCESTER    Away, get thee away! Good friend, be gone:

Thy comforts can do me no good at all,

Thee they may hurt18.

OLD MAN    You cannot see your way.

GLOUCESTER    I have no way and therefore want no eyes:

I stumbled when I saw. Full oft ’tis seen

Our means secure us, and our mere defects22

Prove our commodities23. O dear son Edgar,

The food of thy abusèd24 father’s wrath!

Might I but live to see thee in my touch,

I’d say I had eyes again!

OLD MAN    How now? Who’s there?

Aside

EDGAR    O gods! Who is’t can say, ‘I am at the worst’?

I am worse than e’er I was.

OLD MAN    ’Tis poor mad Tom.

Aside

EDGAR    And worse I may be yet: the worst is not31

So long as we can say ‘This is the worst.’

OLD MAN    Fellow, where goest?

GLOUCESTER    Is it a beggar-man?

OLD MAN    Madman and beggar too.

GLOUCESTER    He has some reason36, else he could not beg.

I’th’last night’s storm I such a fellow saw,

Which made me think a man a worm: my son

Came then into my mind and yet my mind

Was then scarce friends with him. I have heard more since.

As flies to wanton41 boys are we to th’gods:

They kill us for their sport.

Aside

EDGAR    How should this be?

Bad is the trade44 that must play fool to sorrow,

Ang’ring itself and others.— Bless thee, master!

GLOUCESTER    Is that the naked fellow?

OLD MAN    Ay, my lord.

GLOUCESTER    Get thee away: if for my sake

Thou wilt o’ertake us hence a mile or twain

I’th’way toward Dover, do it for ancient love50,

And bring some covering for this naked soul,

Which I’ll entreat to lead me.

OLD MAN    Alack, sir, he is mad.

GLOUCESTER    ’Tis the time’s plague54, when madmen lead the blind.

Do as I bid thee, or rather do thy pleasure:

Above the rest56, be gone.

OLD MAN    I’ll bring him the best ’pparel57 that I have,

Come on’t what will58.

Exit

GLOUCESTER    Sirrah, naked fellow—

Aside

EDGAR    Poor Tom’s a-cold.— I cannot daub it60 further.

GLOUCESTER    Come hither, fellow.

Aside

EDGAR    And yet I must.— Bless thy sweet eyes, they bleed.

GLOUCESTER    Know’st thou the way to Dover?

EDGAR    Both stile and gate, horseway and footpath. Poor

Tom hath been scared out of his good wits: bless thee, good

man’s son, from the foul fiend!

GLOUCESTER    Here, take this purse, thou whom the heav’ns’ plagues

Gives a purse

Have humbled to all strokes68: that I am wretched

Makes thee the happier69: heavens, deal so still.

Let the superfluous and lust-dieted70 man,

That slaves your ordinance71, that will not see

Because he does not feel, feel your pow’r quickly72,

So distribution should undo excess,

And each man have enough. Dost thou know Dover?

EDGAR    Ay, master.

GLOUCESTER    There is a cliff, whose high and bending76 head

Looks fearfully in the confinèd77 deep:

Bring me but to the very brim78 of it

And I’ll repair the misery thou dost bear

With something rich about me80: from that place

I shall no leading need.

EDGAR    Give me thy arm:

Poor Tom shall lead thee.

Exeunt

Act 4 Scene 2

running scene 13

Enter Goneril, Bastard [Edmund] and Steward [Oswald]

GONERIL    Welcome, my lord1: I marvel our mild husband

Not met us on the way.— Now, where’s your master?

OSWALD    Madam, within, but never man so changed.

I told him of the army4 that was landed,

He smiled at it: I told him you were coming,

His answer was ‘The worse’: of Gloucester’s treachery

And of the loyal service of his son

When I informed him, then he called me ‘sot’8

And told me I had turned the wrong side out9.

What most he should dislike seems pleasant to him;

What like, offensive.

To Edmund

GONERIL    Then shall you go no further.

It is the cowish13 terror of his spirit,

That dares not undertake14: he’ll not feel wrongs

Which tie him to an answer. Our wishes on the way15

May prove effects. Back, Edmund, to my brother16:

Hasten his musters and conduct his powers17.

I must change names at home and give the distaff18

Into my husband’s hands. This trusty servant

Shall pass between us: ere long you are like20 to hear —

If you dare venture in your own behalf —

A mistress’s22 command. Wear this; spare speech.

Gives a favor

Decline your head: this kiss, if it durst speak,

Kisses him

Would stretch thy spirits24 up into the air.

Conceive25, and fare thee well.

EDMUND    Yours in the ranks of death26.

Exit

GONERIL    My most dear Gloucester!

O, the difference of man and man!

To thee a woman’s services29 are due:

My fool usurps30 my body.

OSWALD    Madam, here comes my lord.

Exit

Enter Albany

GONERIL    I have been worth the whistle32.

ALBANY    O Goneril,33

You are not worth the dust which the rude34 wind

Blows in your face.

GONERIL    Milk-livered36 man,

That bear’st a cheek for blows, a head for wrongs,

Who hast not in thy brows an eye discerning38

Thine honour from thy suffering.

ALBANY    See thyself, devil!

Proper deformity seems not in the fiend41

So horrid as in woman.

GONERIL    O vain43 fool!

Enter a Messenger

MESSENGER    O, my good lord, the Duke of Cornwall’s dead,