EDGAR.
Give me your hand.
You are now within a foot of th’extreme verge.
For all beneath the moon would I not leap upright.
GLOUCESTER.
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 further off;
Bid me farewell, and let me hear thee going.
EDGAR.
Now fare ye well, good sir.
[Seems to go.]
GLOUCESTER.
With all my heart.
EDGAR.
[Aside.] Why I do trifle thus with his despair
Is done to cure it.
GLOUCESTER.
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.
EDGAR.
Gone, sir, farewell.
[Gloucester leaps, and falls along]
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?