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I'll lead you to some biding.

Glou. Hearty thanks.

The bounty and the benison of heaven

To boot, and boot!

Enter [Oswald the] Steward.

Osw. A proclaim'd prize! Most happy!

That eyeless head of thine was first fram'd flesh

To raise my fortunes. Thou old unhappy traitor,

Briefly thyself remember. The sword is out

That must destroy thee.

Glou. Now let thy friendly hand

Put strength enough to't.

[Edgar interposes.]

Osw. Wherefore, bold peasant,

Dar'st thou support a publish'd traitor? Hence!

Lest that th' infection of his fortune take

Like hold on thee. Let go his arm.

Edg. Chill not let go, zir, without vurther 'cagion.

Osw. Let go, slave, or thou diest!

Edg. Good gentleman, go your gait, and let poor voke pass. An chud

ha' bin zwagger'd out of my life, 'twould not ha' bin zo long as

'tis by a vortnight. Nay, come not near th' old man. Keep out,

che vore ye, or Ise try whether your costard or my ballow be the

harder. Chill be plain with you.

Osw. Out, dunghill!

They fight.

Edg. Chill pick your teeth, zir. Come! No matter vor your foins.

[Oswald falls.]

Osw. Slave, thou hast slain me. Villain, take my purse.

If ever thou wilt thrive, bury my body,

And give the letters which thou find'st about me

To Edmund Earl of Gloucester. Seek him out

Upon the British party. O, untimely death! Death!

He dies.

Edg. I know thee well. A serviceable villain,

As duteous to the vices of thy mistress

As badness would desire.

Glou. What, is he dead?

Edg. Sit you down, father; rest you.

Let's see his pockets; these letters that he speaks of

May be my friends. He's dead. I am only sorry

He had no other deathsman. Let us see.

Leave, gentle wax; and, manners, blame us not.

To know our enemies' minds, we'ld rip their hearts;

Their papers, is more lawful. Reads the letter.

'Let our reciprocal vows be rememb'red. You have many

opportunities to cut him off. If your will want not, time and

place will be fruitfully offer'd. There is nothing done, if he

return the conqueror. Then am I the prisoner, and his bed my

jail; from the loathed warmth whereof deliver me, and supply the

place for your labour.

'Your (wife, so I would say) affectionate servant,

'Goneril.'

O indistinguish'd space of woman's will!

A plot upon her virtuous husband's life,

And the exchange my brother! Here in the sands

Thee I'll rake up, the post unsanctified

Of murtherous lechers; and in the mature time

With this ungracious paper strike the sight

Of the death-practis'd Duke, For him 'tis well

That of thy death and business I can tell.

Glou. The King is mad. How stiff is my vile sense,

That I stand up, and have ingenious feeling

Of my huge sorrows! Better I were distract.

So should my thoughts be sever'd from my griefs,

And woes by wrong imaginations lose

The knowledge of themselves.

A drum afar off.

Edg. Give me your hand.

Far off methinks I hear the beaten drum.

Come, father, I'll bestow you with a friend. Exeunt.

Scene VII. A tent in the French camp.

Enter Cordelia, Kent, Doctor, and Gentleman.

Cor. O thou good Kent, how shall I live and work

To match thy goodness? My life will be too short

And every measure fail me.

Kent. To be acknowledg'd, madam, is o'erpaid.

All my reports go with the modest truth;

Nor more nor clipp'd, but so.

Cor. Be better suited.

These weeds are memories of those worser hours.

I prithee put them off.

Kent. Pardon, dear madam.

Yet to be known shortens my made intent.

My boon I make it that you know me not

Till time and I think meet.

Cor. Then be't so, my good lord. [To the Doctor] How, does the King?

Doct. Madam, sleeps still.

Cor. O you kind gods,

Cure this great breach in his abused nature!

Th' untun'd and jarring senses, O, wind up

Of this child-changed father!

Doct. So please your Majesty

That we may wake the King? He hath slept long.

Cor. Be govern'd by your knowledge, and proceed

I' th' sway of your own will. Is he array'd?

Enter Lear in a chair carried by Servants.