ACT IV.

SCENE I.-The Heath.

Enter EDGAR.

Edg. Yet better thus, and known to be contemned, Than still contemned and flattered.1

To be worst,

The lowest and most dejected thing of fortune,
Stands still in esperance, lives not in fear:
The lamentable change is from the best;
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.-But who comes here?

Enter GLOSTER, led by an Old Man.

My father, poorly led? World, world, O world!

But that thy strange mutations make us hate thee,

Life would not yield to age.2

Old Man. O, my good lord, I have been your tenant, and

your father's tenant, these fourscore years.

Glo. Away, get thee away; good friend, be gone; Thy comforts can do me no good at all,

Thee they may hurt.

1 Yet better thus, &c.] Yet I would be better in my present condition in which I know I am contemned, than if I were outwardly flattered while secretly contemned. Edgar had previously spoken of throwing off his disguise. See note 3, p. 89.

2 Life would not yield, &c.] We should not have any pleasure in resigning life when we are old: death would be under all circumstances dreadful.

Old Man. You cannot see your way.

Glo. 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 defects
Prove our commodities.1-O, dear son Edgar,
The food of thy abused 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?

Edg. [Aside.] O gods! who is 't can say, I am at the

worst? 2

I am worse than e'er I was.

Old Man.

"Tis poor mad Tom.

Edg. [Aside.] And worse I may be yet: the worst is not, So long as we can say, This is the worst.

Old Man. Fellow, where goest?

Glo.

Is it a beggar-man?

Old Man. Madman and beggar too.

Glo. He has some reason, else he could not beg.

I' the 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 wanton boys are we to the gods;

They kill us for their sport.

Edg. [Aside.]

How should this be?

Bad is the trade that must play Fool to sorrow,
Angering itself and others.—Bless thee, master!

1 Our means, &c.] Our supplies make us negligent, and our very wants prove our advantages.

Who is 't can say, &c.] Edgar in his last speech encouraged himself by thinking that things were at the worst with him, and that any change should necessarily be for the better.

Glo. Is that the naked fellow?

Old Man.

Ay, my lord.

Glo. Then, prithee, get thee gone: if, for my sake,
Thou wilt o'ertake us, hence a mile or twain,
I' the way toward Dover, do it for ancient love;
And bring some covering for this naked soul,
Which I'll entreat to lead me.

Old Man.

Alack, sir, he is mad.

Glo. 'Tis the times' plague, when madmen lead the blind. Do as I bid thee, or rather do thy pleasure;

Above the rest,1 be gone.

Old Man. I'll bring him the best 'parel that I have, Come on 't what will.

Glo. Sirrah, naked fellow.

[Exit.

Edg. Poor Tom 's a-cold.—[Aside.] I cannot daub it2 further.

Glo. Come hither, fellow.

Edg. [Aside.] And yet I must.-Bless thy sweet eyes, they bleed.

Glo. Know'st thou the way to Dover?

Edg. Both stile and gate, horse-way and footpath. Poor Tom hath been scared out of his good wits: bless thee, good man's son, from the foul fiend! Five fiends have been in Poor Tom at once: of lust, as Obidicut; Hobbididance, prince of dumbness; Mahu, of stealing; Modo, of murder ; Flibbertigibbet, of mopping and moeing,3-who since possesses chamber-maids and waiting-women. So, bless thee, master!

4

1 Above the rest.] Above all other things. 2 Daub it.] Maintain the disguise. Mopping and moeing.] to make mowes or mouths.

Who since possesses.]

To mop is to make grimaces; to moe is
See the Editor's Tempest, p. 65, note 3.
That is, which fiend since possesses.

There is here an allusion to a story in Dr. Harsnet's Declaration.

F

Glo. Here, take this purse, you whom the heaven's plagues
Have humbled to all strokes: that I am wretched,
Makes thee the happier :-heavens, deal so still!
Let the superfluous and lust-dieted man,

That slaves your ordinance,1 that will not see
Because he does not feel, feel your power quickly ;

So distribution should undo excess,

And each man have enough.-Dost thou know Dover?
Edg. Ay, master.

Glo. There is a cliff, whose high and bending head
Looks fearfully in the confined deep:

Bring me but to the very brim of it,

And I'll repair the misery thou dost bear

With something rich about me: from that place

I shall no leading need.

Edg.

Give me thy arm ;

Poor Tom shall lead thee.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-Before the DUKE OF ALBANY's Palace.

Enter GONERIL and EDMUND; OSWALD meeting them.
Gon. Welcome, my lord: I marvel our mild husband
Not met us on the way.-Now, where's your master?
Osw. Madam, within; but never man so changed:
I told him of the army that was landed;
He smiled at it: I told him you were coming;
His answer was, The worse: of Gloster's treachery
And of the loyal service of his son

When I informed him, then he called me sot,
And told me, I had turned the wrong side out:

1 That slaves your ordinance.] That regards the good things of this life as under his own command instead of your ordination.

What most he should dislike seems pleasant to him ;
What like, offensive.

Gon. [To EDMUND.] Then shall ye go no further.
It is the cowish terror of his spirit,

That dares not undertake: he 'll not feel wrongs,
Which tie him to an answer. Our wishes on the way,1
May prove
effects. Back, Edmund, to my brother;
Hasten his musters, and conduct his powers:

I must change arms at home, and give the distaff
Into my husband's hands. This trusty servant
Shall pass between us: ere long you are like to hear,
If you dare venture in your own behalf,

A mistress's command. Wear this; spare speech;

[Giving a favour.

Decline your head: this kiss, if it durst speak,
Would stretch thy spirits up into the air;
Conceive, and fare thee well.

Edm. Yours in the ranks of death.
Gon.

O, the difference of man and man!
To thee a woman's services are due;
My fool usurps my body.2

Osw. Madam, here comes my lord.

My most dear Gloster! [Exit EDMUND.

[Exit.

Enter ALBANY.

Gon. I have been worth the whistle.3

Alb.

O Goneril!

You are not worth the dust which the rude wind

1 Our wishes, &c.] The wishes we expressed to each other on the

way, respecting his death and our marriage, &c.

2 My fool, &c.] He is only my fool to whom I am now married.

I have been worth, &c.] Time was when you thought me worth calling. An allusion to the proverb, 'It is a poor dog that is not worth the whistling.'