Edg.
Gone, sir:--farewell.--

[Gloster 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?

Glou.
Away, and let me die.

Edg.
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 is a miracle.--Speak yet again.

Glou.
But have I fall'n, or no?

Edg.