I have hope,

I can scarce speak to thee: thou'lt not believe,
With how deprav'd a quality-O Regan!
Reg. I pray you, sir, take patience.
You less know how to value her desert,
Than she to scant her duty.

Lear.

Say, how is that? Reg. 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, That you'll vouchsafe me raiment, bed, and food." Reg. Good sir, no more: these are unsightly tricks.

Thy tender-hested 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 oppose 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.
Lear. Who put my man i' the stocks?
[Tucket within.
Corn.
What trumpet's that?

Enter Oswald.

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

Corn. I set him there, sir; but his own disorders Deserved much less advancement. Lear. You! did you? 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: I am now from home, and out of that provision Which shall be needful for your entertainment. Lear. Return to her? and fifty men dismiss'd? No, rather I abjure all roofs, and choose To wage against the enmity o' the air; To be a comrade with the wolf and owl.Necessity's sharp pinch!-Return with her? Why, the hot-blooded France, that dowerless took Our youngest born, I could as well be brought To knee his throne, and, squire-like, pension beg To keep base life afoot.-Return with her? Persuade me rather to be slave and sumpter To this detested groom. [Looking at Oswald. At your choice, sir.

Gon.

Lear. I pr'ythee, daughter, do not make me mad:

I will not trouble thee, my child; farewell.
We'll no more meet, no more see one another;
But yet thou art my flesh, my blood, my daughter;
Or, rather, a disease that's in my flesh,
Which I must needs call mine: thou art a boil,
A plague-sore, an embossed carbuncle,

In my corrupted blood. But I'll not chide thee;
Let shame come when it will, I do not call it :

I do not bid the thunder-bearer shoot,

Nor tell tales of thee to high-judging Jove.
Mend, when thou canst; be better, at thy leisure :
I can be patient; I can stay with Regan,
I, and my hundred knights.

Reg.

Not altogether so : I look'd not for you yet, nor am provided For your fit welcome. Give ear, sir, to my sister; For those that mingle reason with your passion, Must be content to think you old, and soBut she knows what she does. Lear.

Is this well-spoken?

Reg. I dare avouch it, sir.

lowers?

What! fifty fol

Is it not well? What should you need of more? Yea, or so many, sith that both charge and danger Speak 'gainst so great a number? How, in one

house,

Should many people, under two commands,
Hold amity? 'Tis hard; almost impossible.

Gon. Why might not you, my lord, receive attendance

From those that she calls servants, or from mine?

That all the world shall-I will do such things,-
What they are, yet I know not; but they shall be
The terrors of the earth. You think, I'll weep;
No, I'll not weep:-

I have full cause of weeping; but this heart
[Storm heard at a distance.
Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws,
Or ere I'll weep.-O, fool! I shall go mad.

[Exeunt LEAR, GLOSTER, KENT, and Fool. Corn. Let us withdraw, 'twill be a storm. Reg. This house is little: the old man and 's people

Cannot be well bestow'd.

Gon. 'Tis his own blame; hath put himself from

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 note,
Commend a dear thing to you. There is division,
Although as yet the face of it be cover'd

With mutual cunning, 'twixt Albany and Cornwall;
Who have (as who have not, that their great stars
Thron'd and set high?) servants, who seem no less,
Which are to France the spies and speculations
Intelligent of our state; what hath been seen,
Either in snuffs and packings of the dukes,
Or the hard rein which both of them have borne

Against the old kind king; or something deeper,
Whereof, perchance, these are but furnishings;—
[But, true it is, from France there comes a power
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

I tax not you, you elements, with unkindness;
I never gave you kingdom, call'd you children,
You owe me no subscription: 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 will with two pernicious daughters join
Your high-engender'd battles 'gainst a head
So old and white as this. O! O! 'tis foul!
Fool. He that has a house to put 's 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.

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.

Come, your

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. 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,- [Sings. With heigh, 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 courtezan.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.

This prophecy Merlin shall make; for I live before his time [Exit.

SCENE III.-A Room in GLOSTER'S Castle.

Enter GLOSTER and EDMUND.

Glo. Alack, alack! Edmund, I like not this unnatural dealing. When I desired their leave that I might pity him, they took from me the use of mine own house; charged me, on pain of their perpetual displeasure, neither to speak of him, entreat for him, nor any way sustain him.

Edm. Most savage, and unnatural!

Glo. Go to; say you nothing. There is division between the dukes, and a worse matter than that. I have received a letter this night;-'tis dangerous to be spoken;-I have locked the letter in my closet. These injuries the king now bears will be revenged home; there is part of a power already footed: we must incline to the king. I will seek him, and privily relieve him: go you, and maintain talk with the duke, that my charity be not of him perceived. If he ask for me, I am ill, and gone to bed. If I die for it, as no less is threatened me, the king, my thing toward, Edmund; pray you, be careful. old master, must be relieved. There is some strange

[Erit.

Edm. This courtesy, forbid thee, shall the duke Instantly know; and of that letter too. This seems a fair deserving, and must draw me That which my father loses; no less than all: The younger rises, when the old doth fall. [Exit.

SCENE IV. A part of the Heath, with a Hovel. Enter LEAR, KENT, and Fool.

Kent. Here is the place, my lord; good my lord, enter:

The body's delicate the tempest in my mind
Doth from my senses take all feeling else,
Save what beats there.-Filial ingratitude!
Is it not as this mouth should tear this hand,
For lifting food to't?-But I will punish home.-
No, I will weep no more.-In such a night
To shut me out!-Pour on; I will endure:—
In such a night as this! O Regan, Goneril!-
Your old kind father, whose frank heart gave all,-
O! that way madness lies; let me shun that;
No more of that.