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With hardocks, hemlock, nettles, cuckoo-flowers,
Darnel, and all the idle weeds that grow
In our sustaining corn. Send forth a cent’ry ;
Search every acre in the high-grown field,
And bring him to our eye. What can man's wisdom
In the restoring his bereaved sense,
He, that helps him, take all my outward worth.

Phys: There are means, Madam :
Our fofter nurse of nature, is repole ;
The which he lacks; that to provoke in him,
Are many fimples operative, whose power
Will close the eye of anguith.

Cor. All blest secrets,
All you unpublish'd virtues of the earth,
Spring with my tears; be aidant, and remediate
In the good man's distress! seek, seek for him ;
Left his ungovern'd rage diffolve the life,
That wants the means to lead it.

Enter a Messenger.
Mef. News, Madam:
The British pow'rs are marching hitherward.

Cor. 'Tis known before. Our preparation stands
In expectation of them. O dear father,
It is thy business that I about: : therefore great France
My mourning and important tears hath pitied.
No blown ambition doth our arms incite,
But love, dear love, and our ag'd father's right:
Soon may I hear, and fee him!


which (moke has, of making the eyes water. And as to the growth of it, Pliny tells us particularly that it springs up in gardens and fields of barley ; ( Nafcitur in bortis et segetibus bordeaceis) which our author here calls, in our sustaining corn-1 obferve, in Chaucer it is written femetere; by a corruption either of the scribe, or of vulgar pronunciaton;

if of the latter, it might from thence easily Dide, in progress of time, into fenitar,


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Enter Regan, and Steward.


set forth
Stew. , Madam.
Reg. Himself in person there?

Stew. With much ado.
Your Gister is the better soldier.

Reg. Lord Edmund spake not with your Lady at home :
Stew. No, Madam.
Reg. What might import my fifter's letter to him?
Stew. I know not, Lady.

Reg. Faith, he is posted hence on serious matter.
It was great ign’rance, Glo'ster's eyes being out,
To let him live; where he arrives, he moves
All hearts against us : Edmund, I think, is gone,
In pity of his misery, to dispatch
His nighted life: moreover to descry
The ftrength o' th' enemy.

Stew. I must needs after him, madam, with my letter,
Reg. Our troops set forth to-morrow : stay with us :
The ways are dangerous.

Stew. I may not, madam;
My Lady charg'd my duty in this business.

Reg. Why should the write to Edmund ? might not you
Transport her purposes by word ? belike,
Something I know not what-I'll love thee much-
Let me unseal the letter.

Stew. Madam, I had rather

Reg. I know, your Lady does not love her husband:
I'm jure of that; and, at her late being here,
She gave strange ceiliads, and most speaking looks
To noble Edmund. I know, you're of her bofom.

Stew. I, madam ?

Reg. I speak in understanding: you are; I know't;
Therefore, I do advise you, take this note.
My Lord is dead; Edmuna' and I have talk'd,
And more convenient is he for my hand,


Than for your Lady's: you may gather more :
If you do find him, pray you, give him this;
And when your mistress hears thus much from you,
I pray, desire her call her wisdom to her. So farewell..
If you do chance to hear of that blind traitor,
Preferment falls on him that cuts him off,

Stew. ’Would I could meet him, madam, I should Mew What party

I do follow. Reg. Fare thee well.


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SCENE, the Country near Dover.

Enter Glo'ster, and Edgar, as a Peasant. Glo. Hen shall I come to th' top of that same hill?

Edg. You do climb up it now. Look, how Glo. Methinks, the ground is even.

(we labour. 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.
Methinks, thy voice is alter'd; and thou speak'st
In better phrase and matter than thou didit.

Edg. You're much deceiv'd : in nothing am I chang'd,
But in my garments.
Glo. Sure, you're better spoken.

[fearful Edg: Come on, Sir, here's the place--stand still. How And dizzy 'tis, to cart one's eyes fo low! The crows and choughs, that wing the mid-way air, Shew scarce fo gross as beeties. Half way down Hangs one, that gathers famphire; dreadful trade! Methinks, he seems no bigger than his head. The fisher-men, that walk upon the beach, Appear like mice; and yond tall anchoring bark, Dininifh'd to her cock; her cock, a buoy Almost too small for fight. The murmuring surge, That on th’ unnumbred idle pebbles chafes, Cannot be heard so high. I'll look no more,


Leít my brain turn, and the deficient sight
Topple down headlong.
Glo. Set me, where


ftand. Edg. Give me your hand: you're now within a foot , Of th' extream verge: for all below the moon Would I not leap upright.


Glo. 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 farewel, and let me hear thee going,

Edg. Now fare ye well, good Sir. (Seems to go.
Glo. With all

my Edg. Why do I trifle thus with his despair? 'Tis done to cure it.

Glo. O you mighty gods !
This world I do renounce; and in your rights
Shake patiently my great afliction 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. (He leaps and falls along?

Edg. Good Sir, Farewel.
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 part.----Alive or dead?
Hou, you, hear you, friend ! Sir! Sir! speek!
Thus might he pass, indee:----yet he revives.
What are you, Sir?

Glo. Away, and let me die.

Edg. Had'st thou been aught but goss’mer, feathers, air, So many fathom down precipitating, Thou’d'ít shiver'd like an egg : but thou doit breathe, Hait heavy subttance, bleed'it not; speak, art found ? Ten malts at each make not the altitude, (47)

Which !17) Ten wafs attach'd-] This is Mr. Pope's reading; but I kaw not from what authority. Mr. Rowe gave it us, ten masts at


Which thou hast perpendicularly fall’n.
Thy life's a miracle. Speak yet again.

Glo. But have I fall'n or no?

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.

Glo. 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.

Edg. Give me your arm.
Up, 10-how is't? feel you your legs? you stand.

Glo. Too well, too well.

Edg. Tsis is above all ftrangeness.
Upon the crown o'th' cliff, what thing was that,
Which parted from you?

Gle. A poor unfortunate beggar.
Edg. As I stood here below, methought, his eyes
Were two full moons; he had a thousand noses,
Horns welk'd, and wav'd like the enridged sea :
It was some nend. Therefore, thou happy father,
Think, that the cleareft gods, who make them honours (48)
Of men's imposibilities, have preserv'd thee.

Glo. I do remember now : henceforth I'll bear
Amiction, 'till it do cry out itself,
Enough, enough, and die. That thing you speak of,
I took it for a man; often 'would say,
The fiend, the fiend-he led me to that place.
Edg. Bear free and patient thoughts.

Enter Lear, dress'd madly with flowers.
But who comes here?

t--a poor, dragging expreffion. All the old copies read, as I have restor’d in the text, ten mafts at each.

'Tis certain, 'tis a boid phrase, but I dare warrant, it was our author's; and means ten mális placed at the extremity of each other.

(48) Tbirk, that the deareft gods-- This too is Mr. Pope's reading. All the authentic copies have it, cleareft gods; i. e. open, and righteo ous, in their dealings. So, our author again, in his Timon ; Roots, ye clear beav'ns!


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