your eyes' anguish. So may it be, indeed: Methinks thy voice is alter'd; and thou speak'st In better phrase and matter than thou didst. You're much deceived: in nothing am I changed But in my garments. Methinks you're better spoken. Come on, sir; here's the place: stand still. How fearful And dizzy 'tis, to cast one's eyes so low! The crows and choughs that wing the midway air Show scarce so gross as beetles: half way down Hangs one that gathers samphire, dreadful trade! Methinks he seems no bigger than his head: The fishermen, that walk upon the beach, Appear like mice; and yond tall anchoring bark, Diminish'd to her cock; her cock, a buoy Almost too small for sight: the murmuring surge, That on the unnumber'd idle pebbles chafes, Cannot be heard so high. I'll look no more; Lest my brain turn, and the deficient sight Topple down headlong. Set me where you stand. Give me your hand: you are now within a foot Of the extreme verge: for all beneath the moon Would I not leap upright. Let go my hand. Here, friend, 's another purse; in it a jewel Well worth a poor man's taking: fairies and gods Prosper it with thee! Go thou farther off; Bid me farewell, and let me hear thee going. Now fare you well, good sir. With all my heart. Why I do trifle thus with his despair Is done to cure it. O you mighty gods! This world I do renounce, and, in your sights, Shake patiently my great affliction off: If I could bear it longer, and not fall To quarrel with your great opposeless wills, My snuff and loathed part of nature should Burn itself out. If Edgar live, O, bless him! Now, fellow, fare thee well. Gone, sir: farewell. And yet I know not how conceit may rob The treasury of life, when life itself Yields to the theft: had he been where he thought, By this, had thought been past. Alive or dead? Ho, you sir! friend! Hear you, sir! speak! Thus might he pass indeed: yet he revives. What are you, sir? Away, and let me die. Hadst thou been aught but gossamer, feathers, air, So many fathom down precipitating, Thou'dst shiver'd like an egg: but thou dost breathe; Hast heavy substance; bleed'st not; speak'st; art sound. Ten masts at each make not the altitude Which thou hast perpendicularly fell: Thy life's a miracle. Speak yet again. But have I fall'n, or no? From the dread