GLOUCESTER:
Away, get thee away; good friend, be gone:
Thy comforts can do me no good at all;
Thee they may hurt.
OLD MAN:
Alack, sir, you cannot see your way.
GLOUCESTER:
I have no way, and therefore want no eyes;
I stumbled when I saw: full oft 'tis seen,
Our means secure us, and our mere defects
Prove our commodities. O dear son Edgar,
The food of thy abused father's wrath!
Might I but live to see thee in my touch,
I'ld say I had eyes again!
Source: eNotes Publishing, ©2013 eNotes.com, Inc.. All Rights Reserved. Full copyright.
(The entire page is 1282 words.)
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