Fool. O nuncle, court-holy-water in a dry house is better than the rain-waters out o'door. Good nuncle, in, and ask thy daughters bleffing: here's a night, that pities neither wife men nor fools.

Lear. Rumble thy belly full, fpit fire, fpout 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 fubfcription.-Then let fall
Your horrible pleasure ;-here I ftand, your flave;
A poor, infirm, weak, and defpis'd old man!.
But yet I call you fervile minifters,

That have with two pernicious daughters join'd
Your high-engender'd battles, 'gain't a head

So old and white as this. Oh! oh! 'tis foul.

Fool. He that has a houfe 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 lowfe; fo beggars marry many. That man that makes his toe, what he his heart fhould. make,

Shall of a corn cry woe, and turn his fleep to wake. For there was never yet fair woman, but he made mouths in a glass.

To them, Enter Kent.

Lear. No, I will be the pattern of all patience, I will fay nothing.

Kent. Who's there?

Fool. Marry here's grace, and a cod-piece, that's a wife man and a fool.

Kent. Alas, Sir, are you here? things that love night, Love not fuch nights as thefe: the wrathful skies Gallow the very wand'rers of the dark,

And make them keep their caves; fince I was man,

And to put this emendation beyond all doubt, I'll produce one more paffage, where our author, not only ufes the fame thought again, but.. the word that afcertains my explication. In Winter's Tale ;

Let nature crush the fides o' th' earth together,
And marr the feeds within.

Such

Such fheets of fire, fuch burfts of horrid thunder,
Such groans of roaring wind and rain, I never

Remember to have heard. Man's nature cannot carry
Th' affliction, nor the force.

Lear. Let the great gods,

That keep this dreadful pudder o'er our heads,

Find out their enemies now. Tremble, thou wretch, (27)
That haft within thee undivulged crimes,

Unwhipt of juftice. Hide thee, thou bloody hand;,
Thou Perjure, and thou Simular of virtue, (28)
That art incestuous: caitiff, shake to pieces,
That under covert and convenient seeming,
Haft practis'd on man's life!-Clofe pent-up guilts,,
Rive your concealing continents, and ask
Thefe dreadful fummoners grace.—I am a man,
More finn'd against, than finning.

Kent. Alack, bare-headed?

Gracious my lord, hard by here is a hovel;

Some friendship will it lend you 'gainst the tempeft::
Repofe you there, while I to this hard houfe

(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 fcanted courtesy.

Lear. My wits begin to turn..

Come on, my boy. How doft, my boy? art cold?
I'm cold myself. Where is the straw, my

The art of our neceffities is ftrange,

fellow?

That can make vile things precious. Come, your hovel;

(27) Tremble, thou wretch,] Thus Juvenal in his 13th fatire; Hi funt qui trepidant, & ad omnia fulgura pallent,,

Cum tonat; &c.

(28) Thou perjur'd, and thou fimular man of virtue,] The first Folio leaves out man in this verfe; and, I believe, rightly to the poet's mind. He would use a fimular of virtue to fignify, a falfe pretender to it; a diffembler, that would make an outward fhew of it as he elfewhere employs perjure substantively, for a perjur'd creature. So in Love's Labour loft;

Why, he comes like a Perjure, wearing papers.

And fo, in his Troublefom Reign of King John, in two parts::
But now black-fpotted Perjure as he is..
C 6,

Poor:

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

Fool. He that has an a little tiny wit,

With heigh ho, the wind and the rain ;
Muft make content with his fortunes fit,
Though the rain it raineth every day.

Lear. True, my good boy: come, bring us to this hovel.

Fool. "Tis a brave night to cool a curtezan.
I'll speak a prophecy, or ere I go;

When priests are more in words than matter,
When brewers marr their malt with water;
When nobles are their taylors tutors;
No hereticks burn, but wenches fuitors ;
When every cafe in law is right,

No Squire in debt, nor no poor Knight;
When flanders do not live in tongues,
And cut-purfes come not to throngs;
When ufurers tell their gold i' th' field,
And bawds and whores do churches build:
Then fhall the realm of Albion

Come to great confufion :

Then comes the time, who lives to fee't,

That going fall be us'd with feet.

[Exit,

This prophecy Merlin fhall make, for I do live before

his time.

[Exit.

Glo. A Lack,

natural dealing; when I defired their leave that I might pity him, they took from me the use of mine own houfe; charg'd me, on pain of perpetual difpleasure, neither to speak of him, entreat for him, or any way fuftain him.

Edm. Moft favage and unnatural!

Glo. Go to; fay you nothing. There is divifion be

tween

tween the Dukes, and a worse matter than that: I have
receiv'd a letter this night, 'tis dangerous to be spoken;
(I have lock'd 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 look for him, and privily relieve
him; go you, and maintain talk with the Duke, that
my charity be not of him perceiv'd; if he afk for me,
I am ill, and gone to bed; if I die for it, as no lefs is
threaten'd me, the King my old master must be relieved.
There are ftrange things toward, Edmund; pray you,
be careful.
[Exit.

Edm. This courtesy, forbid thee, fhall the Duke
Inftantly know, and of that letter too.
This feems a fair deferving, and must draw me
That which my father lofes; no less than all.
The younger rifes, when the old doth fall.

[Exit.

SCENE changes to a part of the Heath, with a hovel.

Enter Lear, Kent, and Fool.

TERE is the place, my Lord; good my Lord,.

Kent.

HERE

enter;

The tyranny o' th' open night's too rough

For nature to endure..

cum.

Lear. Let me alone.

Kent. Good my Lord, enter here.

[Storm fill

(†) There is part of a power already landed.] This reading,, notwithstanding Mr. Pope's declaration in his preface, is not ex fide CodiAll the authentick copies read, footed, i. e. on foot, on their march. If this gentleman's nice ear was offended at the word in this place, how came he to let it pass undisturb'd in fome others? As, for inftance, afterwards in this play;

And what confed'racy have you with the traitors,
Late footed in the kingdom?

And again, in Henry Vth.

Dispatch us with all speed, left that our King
Come here himself to question our delay;

For he is footed in this land already.

Lear

Lear. Wilt break my heart?

Kent. I'd rather break mine own; good my Lord, enter. Lear. Thou think'it 'tis much, that this contentious Invades us to the skin; so 'tis to thee;

But where the greater malady is fixt,

The leffer is fcarce felt. Thou'dft fhun a bear,

But if thy flight lay toward the roaring fea,

[ftorm

Thou'dft meet the bear i'th'mouth; when the mind's free,
The body's delicate; the tempeft in my mind
Doth from my fenfes take all feeling elfe,
Save what beats there. Filial ingratitude!
Is it not, as this mouth fhould tear this hand
For lifting food to't?-But I'll punish home;
No, I will weep no more-In fuch a night,
To fhut me out?-pour on, I will endure:
In fuch a night as this? Q Regan, Gonerill,
Your old kind father, whose frank heart gave all-
Q, that way madness lies; let me fhun that;
No more of that.-

Kent. Good my Lord, enter here..

Lear. Pr'ythee, go in thyself; feek thine own ease:: This tempeft will not give me leave to ponder On things would hurt me more-but I'Îl go in, In, boy, go firft. You houseless povertyNay, get thee in; I'll pray, and then I'll fleepPoor naked wretches, wherefoe'er you are, That bide the pelting of this pitilefs ftorm! How fhall your houfelefs heads, and unfed fides,. Your loop'd and window'd raggedness defend you From feafons fuch as these ?-O, I have ta'en Too little care of this! take phyfick, Pomp; Expofe thyfelf to feel what wretches feel, That thou may'ft shake the fuperflux to them, And fhew the Heavens more juft.

[Tom.

Edg. within. Fathom and half, fathom and half! poor Fool. Come not in here, nuncle, here's a fpirit; help me, help me. [The Fool runs out from the hovel..

Kent. Give me thy hand, who's there?
Fool. A fpirit, a fpirit; he fays, his name's poor Tom.

Kent.