“O, ho, are you there with me? No eyes in your head, nor no money in your purse? Your eyes are in a heavy case, your purse in a light: yet you see how this world goes.Ear; of Gloster, “I see it feelingly.”Lear, “What, art mad? A man may see how this world goes with no eyes. Look with thine ears: see how yond justice rails upon yond simple thief. Hark, in thine ear: change places; and handy-dandy, which is the justice, which is the thief? - Thou hast seen a farmer’s dog bark at a begger?Earl of Gloster, ‘Ay, sir.Lear, “And the creature run from the cur? There thou mightst behold the great image of authority: a dog’s obey’d in office. - Thou rascal beadle, hold thy bloody hand! Why dost though lash that whore? Strip thine own back; Thou hotly lusts to use her in that kind For which thou whipst her. The usurer hangs the cozener. Through tattere’d clothes small vices to appear; Robes and furr’d gowns hide all. Plate sin with gold, And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks; Arm it in rags, a pygmy’s straw does pierce it. None does offend, none, - I say, none; I’ll able ‘em to seal the accuser’s lips. Get thee glass eyes; To see the things thou dost not. - Now, now, now, now: Pull off my boots: - harder, harder: - so.Edgar (aside), “O, matter and impertinency mixt! Reason in madness!”

“And the creature run from the cur? There thou mightst behold the great image of authority: a dog’s obeyed in office.Thou rascal beadle, hold thy bloody hand.Why dost thou lash that whore? Strip thine own back.Thou hotly lust’st to use her in that kindFor which thou whipp’st her. The usurer hangs the cozener.Through tattered clothes great vices do appear;Robes and furred gowns hide all. Plate sin with gold,And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks.Arm it in rags, a pigmy’s straw does pierce it.None does offend—none, I say, none. I’ll able 'em.Take that of me, my friend, who have the powerTo seal th' accuser’s lips. Get thee glass eyes,And like a scurvy politician seemTo see the things thou dost not.”

“Through tatter'd clothes small vices do appear; Robes and furr'd gowns hide all. Plate sin with gold, And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks; Arm it in rags, a pygmy's straw does pierce it. None does offend, none- I say none! I'll able 'em.”

“The fringed curtains of thine eye advance,And say what thou seest yond.”

“Tell me, sweet lord, what is ’t that takes from theeThy stomach, pleasure, and thy golden sleep?Why dost thou bend thine eyes upon the earthAnd start so often when thou sit’st alone?Why hast thou lost the fresh blood in thy cheeksAnd given my treasures and my rights of theeTo thick-eyed musing and curst melancholy?”

“O thou dissembling cub! what wilt thou beWhen time hath sow'd a grizzle on thy case?Or will not else thy craft so quickly grow,That thine own trip shall be thine overthrow?Farewell, and take her; but direct thy feetWhere thou and I henceforth may never meet.”

“Madman! Look through my eyes if thou hast none of thine own.”