The treafury of life,

when life itfelf

Yields to the theft. Had he been where he thought, By this, had thought been past.-Alive or dead? Hoa, you, hear you, friend?-Sir! Sir!-Speak! Thus might he pass, indeed

What are you, Sir?

Glo. Away, and let me die.

-yet he revives.

Edg. Had'st thou been aught but Gofs'mer, feathers, air,

So many fathom down precipitating,

Thou'dft fhiver'd like an egg: but thou doft breathe,
Haft heavy fubftance, bleed'ft not; fpeak'ft, art found.
? Ten mafts at each make not the altitude,
Which thou haft perpendicularly fall'n.

Thy life's a miracle. Speak yet again.
Glo. But have I fall'n, or no?

Edg. From the dread fummit of this* chalky bourn! Look up a-height. The fhriil-gorg'd'Lark fo 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 fome comfort
When mifery could beguile the tyrant's rage,
And fruftrate his proud will.

Edg. Give me your arm.

Up. So. How is't? Feel you your legs? You ftand. Glo. Too well, too well.

5 when life itfelf Yields to the theft-] When life is willing to be destroyed.

Thus might be pafs, indeed-] Thus he might die in reality. We ftill ufe the word paffing bell.. 1 Ten mafis AT EACH make not. the altitude,] So Mr. Pope found it in the old editions; and feeing it corrupt, judiciously corrected it to attacht. But Mr. Theobald refores again the old nonsense, at each. WARB.

Mr. Pope's conjecture may ftand if the word which he ufes were known in our authour's time, but I think it is of later introduction. We may fay,

Ten mafts on end

* chalky bourn!] Bourn feems here to fignify a bill. Its common fignification is a brook. Milton in Comus ufes befky bourn in the fame fenfe perhaps with Shakespeare. Butin both authours it may mean only a boundary.

Edg.

Edg. This is above all strangeness.

Upon the crown o'th cliff, what thing was that,
Which parted from you?

Glo. A poor unfortunate beggar.

Edg. As I ftood here, below, methought, his eyes Were two full moons; he had a thousand nofes, Horns welk'd, and waved like the enridged fea. It was fome fiend. Therefore, thou happy father, Think, that the cleareft gods, who make them honours Of men's impoffibilities, have preferv'd thee.

8

Glo. I do remember now. Henceforth I'll bear Affliction, 'till it do cry out itself,

Enough, enough, and die. That thing you speak of,
I took it for a man; often 'twould say,

The fiend, the fiend-He led me to that place.
Edg. Bear free and patient thoughts.

*

But who comes here?

The safer sense will ne'er accommodate

His mafter thus.

Lear. No, they cannot touch me for coyning; I am

the King himself.

Edg. O thou fide-piercing fight!

-the cleareft gods,-] The pureft; the most free from evil.

9 The SAFER fenfe will ne'er accommodate His mafter thus,] Without doubt Shakespear wrote, -the SOBER fenfe,

i.e. while the understanding is in a right frame it will never thus accommodate its owner: alluding to Lear's extravagant drefs. Thence he concludes him to be mad. WARBURTON.

I read rather,

The faner fenfe will ne'er accommodate

His mafter thus.

Here is Lear, but be must be mad, bis found or fane fenfes would never fuffer him to be thus difguifed.

Bear free and patient thoughts.] To be melancholy is to have the mind chained down to one painful idea, there is therefore great propriety in exhorting Glofter to free thoughts, to an emancipation of his foul from grief and despair.

Lear.

Lear. Nature's above art in that refpect. There's your press-mony. That fellow handles his bow like a crow-keeper. Draw me a clothier's yard. Look, look, a mouse! Peace, peace ;-this piece of toasted cheele will do't.-There's my gauntlet, I'll prove it on a giant. Bring up the brown bills. O, well flown, Bird! i'th' clout, i'th' clout: hewgh.- Give the word.

Edg. Sweet marjoram.
Lear. País.

Glo. I know that voice.

They

Lear. Ha! Gonerill!-With a white Beard? flattered me like a dog, and told me, I had white hairs in my beard, ere the black ones were there. To fay ay, and no, to every thing that I faid-Ay and no too was no good divinity. When the rain came to wet me once, and the wind to make me chatter; when the thunder would not peace at my bidding; there I found 'em, there I fmelt 'em out. Go to, they are not men o' their words; they told me I was every thing; 'tis a lye, I am not ague-proof.

Glo. The trick of that voice I do well remember! Is't not the King?

Lear. Ay, every inch a King.

When I do ftare, fee, how the fubject quakes.
I pardon that man's life. What was the caufe?
Adultery?

Thou shalt not die; die for adultery? No,
The wren goes to't, and the fmall gilded flie
Does lecher in my fight.

Let copulation thrive, for Glofter's bastard fon
Was kinder to his father, than my daughters
Got 'tween the lawful fheets.

To't, luxury, pell mell; for I lack foldiers.
Behold yon fimpering Dame,

Whofe face between her forks prefages fnow;
That minces virtue, and does fhake the head
To hear of pleasure's name.

7 The fitchew, nor the foyled horfe, goes to't With a more riotous appetite;

Down from the waifte they're centaurs,

Though women all above'

But to the girdle do the Gods inherit,

Beneath is all the fiend's; there's hell, there's darkness, There is the fulphurous pit, burning, fcalding, ftench, confumption. Fy, fy, fy; pah, pah;

Give me an ounce of civet, good apothecary,
To fweeten my imagination! there's mony for thee.
Glo. O, let me kiss that hand.

Lear. Let me wipe it first, it finells of mortality. Glo. O ruin'd piece of nature! This great world Shall fo wear out to nought. Do'ft thou know me? Lear. I remember thine eyes well enough: doft

thou fquiny at me? No, do thy worst, blind Cupid; I'll not love. Read thou this challenge, mark but the penning of it.

Glo. Were all the letters funs, I could not fee one. Edg. 1 would not take this from report. It is, And my heart breaks at it.

Lear. Read.

Glo. What, with this cafe of eyes?

Lear. Oh, ho, are you there with me? no eyes in your head, nor no mony in your purse? your eyes are in a heavy cafe, your purfe in a light; yet you fee how this world goes.

Glo. I fee it feelingly.

Lear. What, art mad? a man may fee how this world goes, with no eyes. Look with thine ears: tee, how yond justice rails upon yond fimple thief. Hark in thine ear. Change places, and handy-dandy, which is the justice, which is the thief? Thou halt seen a farmer's dog bark at a beggar.

Glo. Ay, Sir.

There

Lear. And the creatu run from the cur. thou might'ft behold the great image of authority; a dog's obey'd in office.

Thou rafcal beadle, hold thy bloody hand:

Why doft thou lafh that whore? ftrip thy own back; Thou hotly luft'ft to ufe her in that kind,

For which thou whip'it her. Th' ufurer hangs the

cozener.

Through tatter'd cloaths fmall vices do appear;

Robes and furr'd gowns hide all. Plate fin with gold,

And the strong lance of juftice hurtlefs breaks:
Arm it in rags, a pigmy's ftraw doth pierce it.

9 Robes and furr'd gowns hide all. From bide all to ac cufer's lips, the whole paffage is

VOL. VI.

wanting in the first edition, being added, I fuppofe, at his revifal.

K

None