To lead him where he would: his roguish mad

ness

Allows itself to any thing.

Third Serv. Go thou; I'll fetch some flax and white of eggs

To apply to his bleeding face.

Now, heaven help

him!

[Exeunt severally.

ACT IV.

SCENE I. The Heath.

Enter EDGAR.

Edg. Yet better thus, and known to be contemn'd,

Than still contemn'd and flatter'd. 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 GLOUCESTER, 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.

Old Man.

O my good lord! I have been your tenant, and your father's tenant,

These fourscore years.

Glou. Away, get thee away; good friend, be gone:

Thy comforts can do me no good at all;

Thee they may hurt.

Old Man.

Glou. I have no way, and therefore want no

You cannot see your way.

Full oft 't is seen,

Our means secure us, and

our mere defects

Prove our commodities. Ah! dear son Edgar,
The food of thy abused father's wrath;

Might I but live to see thee in my touch,
I had eyes again.

I'd

say Old Man.

How now! Who's there?

Edg. [Aside.] 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. 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?

Glou.
Is it a beggar-man?
Old Man. Madman and beggar too.

Glou. 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!
Glou. Is that the naked fellow?

Old Man.

Glou. Then, prithee, get thee gone. sake,

Ay, my lord.
If, for my

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,
Who I'll entreat to lead me.

Old Man.

Alack, sir! he is mad.

Glou. 'Tis the times' plague, when madmen lead
the blind.

Do as I bid thee, or rather do thy pleasure;
Above the rest, be gone.

Old Man. I'll bring him the best 'parel that I
have,

Come on't what will.

Glou. Sirrah, naked fellow,—

[Exit.

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

it further.

Glou. Come hither, fellow.

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

Glou. Know'st thou the way to Dover?

Edg. Both stile and gate, horse-way and footpath. Poor Tom had 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 mowing; who since possesses chambermaids and waiting-women. So, bless thee, master!

Glou. Here, take this purse, thou whom the heavens' 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, that will not see Because he doth not feel, feel your power quickly; So distribution should undo excess,

And each man have enough. Dost thou know Dover?

Edg. Ay, master.

Glou. 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.

Poor Tom shall lead thee.

Give me thy arm :

[Exeunt.

SCENE II. Before the Duke of ALBANY'S Palace.

Enter GONERIL and EDMUND.

Gon. Welcome, my lord; I marvel our mild

husband

Not met us on the way.

Enter OSWALD.

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 Gloucester's treachery,

And of the loyal service of his son,

When I inform'd him, then he call'd me sot,
And told me I had turn'd the wrong side out:
What most he should dislike seems pleasant to
him;

What like, offensive.

Gon. [To EDMUND.] Then shall you 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

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.

My most dear Gloucester ! [Exit EDMUND.

O the difference of man and man.