The Heath.
 Enter EDGAR.

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

                   Enter GLOUCESTER, led by an OLD MAN.

								But who comes here?
	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.

Gloucester	Away, get thee away; good friend, be gone.
	Thy comforts can do me no good at all;
	Thee they may hurt.

Old Man						You cannot see your way.

Gloucester	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. O, dear son Edgar,
	The food of thy abusd 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?

Edgar	[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.

Edgar	[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?

Gloucester							Is it a beggar-man?

Old Man	Madman and beggar too.

Gloucester	He has some reason, else he could not beg.
	I'th'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 th'gods:
	They kill us for their sport.

Edgar	[Aside.]						How should this be?
	Bad is the trade that must play fool to sorrow,
	Ang'ring itself and others. [Aloud.] Bless thee, master!

Gloucester	Is that the naked fellow?

Old Man								Ay, my lord.

Gloucester	Then prithee get thee away. If, for my sake,
	Thou wilt o'ertake us hence a mile or twain
	I'th'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.

Gloucester	'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.
												[Exit.

Gloucester								Sirrah, naked fellow!

Edgar	Poor Tom's a-cold. [Aside.] I cannot daub it further.

Gloucester	Come hither, fellow.

Edgar	[Aside.] And yet I must.
			[To GLOUCESTER.] Bless thy sweet eyes, they bleed.

Gloucester	Know'st thou the way to Dover?

Edgar	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; Hobbididence, 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!

Gloucester	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 does not feel, feel your power quickly;
	So distribution should undo excess,
	And each man have enough. Dost thou know Dover?

Edgar	Ay, master.

Gloucester	There is a cliff whose high and bending head
	Looks fearfully in the confind 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.

Edgar								Give me thy arm;
	Poor Tom shall lead thee.
												[Exeunt.
