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 opposeless46 wills, My snuff and loathèd part of nature47 should Burn itself out. If Edgar live, O, bless him!— Now, fellow, fare thee well. He falls forward EDGAR Gone, sir: farewell.— Aside And yet I know not how conceit51 may rob The treasury of life, when life itself Yields53 to the theft: had he been where he thought, By this54 had thought been past. Alive or dead?—
