Page 1829 - Shakespeare - Vol. 3

GLOUCESTER

I am sorry for thee, friend; ’tis the Duke’s pleasure, [145]
Whose disposition, all the world well knows,
Will not be rubb’d nor stopp’d: I’ll entreat for thee.

KENT
Pray, do not, Sir. I have watch’d and travell’d hard;

Some time I shall sleep out, the rest I’ll whistle.
A good man’s fortune may grow out at heels: [150]
Give you good morrow!

GLOUCESTER
The Duke’s to blame in this; ’twill be ill taken.
(Exit.)

KENT

Good King, that must approve the common saw,
Thou out of heaven’s benediction com’st
To the warm sun! [155]
Approach, thou beacon to this under globe,

That by thy comfortable beams I may
Peruse this letter. Nothing almost sees miracles,
But misery; I know ’tis from Cordelia,
Who hath most fortunately been inform’d [160]

Of my obscured course; and shall find time
From this enormous state, seeking to give
Losses their remedies. All weary and o’erwatch’d,
Take vantage, heavy eyes, not to behold

This shameful lodging. [165]
Fortune, good night; smile once more; turn thy wheel!
(He sleeps.)

Scene III IT

(A Wood.)

Enter Edgar.