summit of this chalky bourn. Look up a-height; the shrill-gorged lark so far Cannot be seen or heard: do but look up. Alack, I have no eyes. Is wretchedness deprived that benefit, To end itself by death? 'Twas yet some comfort, When misery could beguile the tyrant's rage, And frustrate his proud will. Give me your arm: Up: so. How is 't? Feel you your legs? You stand. Too well, too well. This is above all strangeness. Upon the crown o' the cliff, what thing was that Which parted from you? A poor unfortunate beggar. As I stood here below, methought his eyes Were two full moons; he had a thousand noses, Horns whelk'd and waved like the enridged sea: It was some fiend; therefore, thou happy father, Think that the clearest gods, who make them honours Of men's impossibilities, have preserved thee. I do remember now: henceforth I'll bear Affliction till it do cry out itself 'Enough, enough,' and die. That thing you speak of, I took it for a man; often 'twould say 'The fiend, the fiend:' he led me to that place. Bear free and patient thoughts. But who comes here? The safer sense will ne'er accommodate His master thus. No, they cannot touch me for coining; I am the king himself. O thou side-piercing sight! Nature's above art in that respect. There's your press-money. That fellow handles his bow like a crow-keeper: draw me a clothier's yard. Look, look, a mouse! Peace, peace; this piece of toasted cheese will do 't. There's my gauntlet; I'll prove it on a giant. Bring up the brown bills. O, well flown, bird! i' the clout, i' the clout: hewgh! Give the word. Sweet marjoram. Pass. I know that voice. Ha! Goneril, with a white beard! They flattered me like a dog; and told me I had white hairs in my beard ere the black ones were there. To say 'ay' and 'no' to every thing that I said!--'Ay' and 'no' too was no good divinity. When the rain came to wet me once, and the wind to make me chatter; when the thunder would not peace at my bidding; there I found 'em, there I smelt 'em out. Go to, they are not men o' their words: they told me I was every thing; 'tis a lie, I am not ague-proof. The trick of that voice I do well remember: Is 't not the king? Ay, every inch a king: When