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  • Title: King Lear (Quarto 1, 1608)
  • Editor: Michael Best
  • ISBN: 978-1-55058-463-9

    Copyright Michael Best. This text may be freely used for educational, non-profit purposes; for all other uses contact the Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Editor: Michael Best
    Not Peer Reviewed

    King Lear (Quarto 1, 1608)

    The Historie of King Lear.
    2440Me thinks thy voyce is altered, and thou speakest
    With better phrase and matter then thou didst.
    Edg. Y'ar much deceaued, in nothing am I chang'd
    But in my garments.
    Glost. Me thinks y'ar better spoken.
    2445Edg. Come on sir, her's the place, stand still, how
    And dizi tis to cast ones eyes so low
    The crowes and choghes that wing the midway ayre
    Shew scarce so grosse as beetles, halfe way downe
    2450Hangs one that gathers sampire, dreadfull trade,
    Me thinkes he seemes no bigger then his head,
    The fishermen that walke vpon the beach
    Appeare like mise, and yon tall anchoring barke
    Diminisht to her cock, her cock a boui
    2455Almost too small for sight, the murmuring surge
    That on the vnnumbred idle peeble chaffes
    Cannot be heard, its so hie ile looke no more,
    Least my braine turne, and the deficient sight
    Topple downe headlong.
    2460Glost. Set me where you stand?
    Edg. Giue me your hand, you are now within a foot
    Of th'extreame verge, for all beneath the Moone
    Would I not leape vpright.
    Glost. Let goe my hand,
    2465Here friend's another pursse, in it a iewell,
    Well worth a poore mans taking, Fairies and Gods
    Prosper it with thee, goe thou farther off,
    Bid me farewell, and let me heare thee going.
    Edg. Now fare you well good sir.
    2470Glost. VVith all my heart.
    Edg. Why I do trifell thus with his dispaire is done
    Glost. O you mightie Gods,
    He kneeles.
    This world I doe renounce, and in your sights
    2475Shake patiently my great affliction off,
    If I could beare it longer and not fall
    To quarel with your great opposles wils
    My snurff and loathed part of nature should
    Burne it selfe out, if Edgar liue, O blesse,