I did commend your highness' letters to them,
Ere I was risen from the place that show'd
My duty kneeling, came there a reeking post,
Stew'd in his haste, half breathless, panting forth
From Goneril his mistress, salutations;
Deliver'd letters, spite of intermission,
Which presently they read: on whose contents,
They summon'd up their meiny, straight took
horse;

Commanded me to follow, and attend

The leisure of their answer; gave me cold looks:
And meeting here the other messenger,
Whose welcome, I perceiv'd, had poison'd mine,
(Being the very fellow that of late
Display'd so saucily against your highness,)
Having more man than wit about me, drew;
He rais'd the house with loud and coward cries:
Your son and daughter found this trespass worth
The shame which here it suffers.

Fool. Winter's not gone yet, if the wild geese fly that way.

Fathers, that wear rags,

Do make their children blind;
But fathers, that bear bags,

Shall see their children kind.
Fortune, that arrant whore,

Ne'er turns the key to the poor.

How chance the king comes with so small a train?
Fool. An thou hadst been set i'the stocks for
that question, thou hadst well deserved it.
Kent. Why, fool?

Fool. We'll set thee to school to an ant, to teach thee there's no labouring in the winter. All, that follow their noses, are led by their eyes, but blind men; and there's not a nose among twenty, but can smell him that's stinking. Let go thy hold, when a great wheel runs down a hill, lest it break thy neck with following it; but the great one that goes up the hill, let him draw thee after. When a wise man gives thee better counsel, give me mine again: I would have none but knaves follow it, since a fool gives it.

That, sir, which serves and seeks for gain,
And follows but for form,

Will pack, when it begins to rain,
And leave thee in the storm.

Re-enter LEAR, with GLOSTER. Lear. Deny to speak with me? They are sick? they are weary?

They have travell'd hard to-night? Mere fetches;

The images of revolt and flying off!
Fetch me a better answer.

Glo. My dear lord,

You know the fiery quality of the duke;
How unremovable and fix'd he is
In his own course.

Lear. Vengeance! plague! death! confusion!

Fiery! what quality? Why, Gloster, Gloster, I'd speak with the duke of Cornwall, and his wife.

Glo. Well, my good lord, I have inform'd them so.

Lear. Inform'd them! Dost thou understand me, man?

Glo. Ay, my good lord.

Lear. The king would speak with Cornwall; the dear father

Would with his daughter speak, commands her service :

Are they inform'd of this?My breath and blood!

Fiery? the fiery duke?-Tell the hot duke, that

No, but not yet :-may be, he is not well:
Infirmity doth still neglect all office,
Whereto our health is bound; we are not our-
selves,

When nature, being oppress'd, commands the mind

To suffer with the body: I'll forbear; And am fallen out with my more headier will, To take the indispos'd and sickly fit For the sound man.-Death on my state! wherefore [Looking on Kent. Should he sit here? This act persuades me, That this remotion of the duke and her Is practice only. Give me my servant forth: Go, tell the duke and his wife, I'd speak with them,

Now, presently: bid them come forth and hear

she rapp'd 'em o'the coxcombs with a stick, and cry'd, Down, wantons, down: 'Twas her brother, that, in pure kindness to his horse, buttered his hay.

Enter CORNWALL, REGAN, GLOSTER, and Servants.

Lear. Good morrow to you both.
Corn. Hail to your grace!

[Kent is set at liberty. Reg. I am glad to see your highness. Lear. Regan, I think you are; I know what

reason

I have to think so if thou should'st not be glad,
I would divorce me from thy mother's tomb,
Sepúlch'ring an adultress.-O, are you free?
[To Kent.
Some other time for that.-Beloved Regan,
Thy sister's naught: O Regan, she hath tied
Sharp-tooth'd unkindness, like a vulture, here,―
[Points to his heart.
I can scarce speak to thee; thou'lt not believe,
Of how deprav'd a quality-O Regan!

keg. I pray you, sir, take patience; I have hope

You less know how to value her desert,
Than she to scant her duty.

Lear. Say, how is that?

Leg. I cannot think, my sister in the least Would fail her obligation: If, sir, perchance, She have restrain'd the riots of your followers, "Tis on such ground, and to such wholesome end, As clears her from all blame.

Lear. My curses on her! Reg. O, sir, you are old; Nature in you stands on the very verge Of her confine: you should be rul'd, and led By some discretion, that discerns your state Better than you yourself: Therefore, I pray you, That to our sister you do make return; Say, you have wrong'd her, sir.

Lear. Ask her forgiveness?

Do you but mark how this becomes the house:
Dear daughter, I confess that I am old;
Age is unnecessary: on my knees I beg,

[Kneeling. That you'll vouchsafe me raiment, bed, and food. Reg. Good sir, no more; these are unsightly tricks : Return you to my sister.

Lear. Never, Regan:

She hath abated me of half my train;
Look'd black upon me; struck me with her

tongue,

Thy tender-hefted nature shall not give
Thee o'er to harshness; her eyes are fierce, but
thine

Do comfort, and not burn: 'Tis not in thee
To grudge my pleasures, to cut off my train,
To bandy hasty words, to scant my sizes,
And, in conclusion, to cppose the bolt
Against my coming in: thou better know'st
The offices of nature, bond of childhood,
Effects of courtesy, dues of gratitude;
Thy half o'the kingdom hast thou not forgot,
Wherein I thee endow'd.

Reg. Good sir, to the purpose.

Trumpets within. Lear. Who put my man i'the stocks? Corn. What trumpet's that?

Enter Steward.

Reg. I know't, my sister's: this approves her letter,

That she would soon be here.-Is your lady

come?

Lear. This is a slave, whose easy-borrow'd

pride

Dwells in the fickle grace of her he follows:Out, varlet, from my sight!

Corn. What means your grace?

Lear. Who stock'd my servant? Regan, I have good hope

Thou didst not know of t.-Who comes here? O heavens,

Enter GONERIL.

If you do love old men, if your sweet sway
Allow obedience, if yourselves are old,
Make it your cause; send down, and take my
part!-

Art not asham'd to look upon this beard?—
[To Goneril.
O, Regan, wilt thou take her by the hand?
Gon. Why not by the hand, sir? How have
I offended?

All's not offence, that indiscretion finds,
And dotage terms so.

Lear. O, sides, you are too tough! Will you yet hold?-How came my man i'the stocks?

Corn. I set him there, sir: but his own dis◄ orders

Deserved much less advancement.
Lear. You! did you

u?

Reg. I pray you, father, being weak, seem so, If, till the expiration of your month, You will return and sojourn with my sister, Dismissing half your train, come then to me;

SCENE I.-A heath. A storm is heard, with thunder and lightning.

Enter KENT, and a Gentleman, meeting. Kent. Who's here, beside foul weather? Gent. One minded like the weather, most unquietly.

Kent. I know you; where's the king? Gent. Contending with the fretful element: Bids the wind blow the earth into the sea, Or swell the curved waters 'bove the main, That things might change, or cease; tears his

white hair;

Which the impetuous blasts, with eyeless rage,
Catch in their fury, and make nothing of:
Strives in his little world of man to out-scorn
The to-and-fro conflicting wind and rain.
This night, wherein the cub-drawn bear would
couch,

The lion and the belly-pinched wolf
Keep their fur dry, unbonneted he runs,
And bids what will take all.

Kent. But who is with him?

Gent. None but the fool; who labours to outjest

His heart-struck injuries.

Kent. Sir, I do know you;

And dare, upon the warrant of my art, Commend a dear thing to you. There is division,

Although as yet the face of it be cover'd

Into this scatter'd kingdom; who already,
Wise in our negligence, have secret feet
In some of our best ports, and are at point
To show their open banner.-Now to you:
If on my credit you dare build so far
To make your speed to Dover, you shall find
Some that will thank you, making just report
Of how unnatural and bemadding sorrow
The king hath cause to plain.

I am a gentleman of blood and breeding;
And, from some knowledge and assurance, offer
This office to you.

Gent. I will talk farther with you.

Kent. No, do not.

For confirmation that I am much more
Than my out wall, open this purse, and take
What it contains: If you shall see Cordelia,
(As fear not but you shall,) show her this
ring;

And she will tell you who your fellow is,
That yet you do not know. Fye on this storm!
I will go seek the king.

Gent. Give me your hand: Have you no more to say?

Kent. Few words, but, to effect, more than all yet;

That when we have found the king, (in which your pain

That way; I'll this ;) he, that first lights on him, [Exeunt severally.

Holla the other.

wall;

Who have (as who have not, that their great

continues.

Enter LEAR and Fool

Lear. Blow, wind, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow!

You cataracts, and hurricanoes, spout Till you have drench'd our steeples, drown'd the cocks!

You sulphurous and thought-executing fires, Vaunt couriers to oak-cleaving thunder-bolts, Singe my white head! And thou, all-shaking thunder,

Strike flat the thick rotundity o' the world! Crack nature's moulds, all germens spill at once, That make ingrateful man!

Fool. O nuncle, court holy-water in a dry house is better than this rain-water out o'door. Good nuncle, in, and ask thy daughter's blessing; here's a night pities neither wise men nor fools.

Lear. Rumble thy belly-full! Spit, fire! spout, rain!

Nor rain, wind, thunder, fire, are my daughters:
I tax not you, you elements, with unkindness,
I never gave you kingdom, call'd you children,
You owe me no subscription; why then let fall
Your horrible pleasure; here I stand, your slave,
A poor, infirm, weak, and despis'd old man :-
But yet I call you servile ministers,
That have with two pernicious daughters join'd
Your high-engender'd battles, 'gainst a head
So old and white as this. O! Ŏ! 'tis foul!
Fool. He, that has a house to put his head in,
has a good head-piece.

The cod-piece that will house,
Before the head has any,
The head and he shall louse;
So beggars marry many.

The man that makes his toe

What he his heart should make,

Shall of a corn cry woe,

And turn his sleep to wake.

-For there was never yet fair woman, but she made mouths in a glass.

man,

Such sheets of fire, such bursts of horrid thunder, Such groans of roaring wind and rain, I never Remember to have heard: man's nature cannot carry

The affliction, nor the fear.

Lear. Let the great gods,

That keep this dreadful pother o'er our heads, Find out their enemies now. Tremble, thou wretch,

That hast within thee undivulged crimes, Unwhipp'd of justice: hide thee, thou bloody hand;

Thou perjur'd, and thou simular man of virtue, That art incestuous: Caitiff, to pieces shake,

That under covert and convenient seeming
Hast practis'd on man's life:-Close pent-up
guilts,

Rive your concealing continents, and cry
These dreadful summoners grace.-I am a man,
More sinn'd against, than sinning.

Kent. Alack, bare-headed!

Gracious my lord, hard by here is a hovel; Some friendship will it lend you 'gainst the tempest;

Repose you there: while I to this hard house,
(More hard than is the stone whereof 'tis rais'd;
Which even but now, demanding after you,
Denied me to come in,) return, and force
Their scanted courtesy.

Lear. My wits begin to turn.Come on, my boy: How dost, my boy? Art cold?

I am cold myself.-Where is this straw, my fellow?

The art of our necessities is strange,
That can make vile things precious. Come, your

hovel.

Poor fool and knave, I have one part in my heart That's sorry yet for thee.

Fool. He that has a little tiny wit,

Withheigh, ho, the wind and the rain,Must make content with his fortunes fit; For the rain it raineth every day.

Lear. True, my good boy.-Come, bring us to this hovel. [Exeunt Lear and Kent. Fool. This is a brave night to cool a courte

zan.

I'll speak a prophecy ere I go:

When priests are more in word than matter;
When brewers mar their malt with water;
When nobles are their tailors' tutors;
No heretics burn'd, but wenches' suitors:
When every case in law is right;
No squire in debt, nor no poor knight;
When slanders do not live in tongues;
Nor cutpurses come not to throngs;
When usurers tell their gold i'the field;
And bawds and whores do churches build ;-
Then shall the realm of Albion

Come to great confusion.

Then comes the time, who lives to see't,
That going shall be us'd with feet.