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.

6

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 disorders Deserv'd much less advancement."

Lear.

8

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 on the Steward. Gon. At your choice, sir.

6 that indiscretion finds,] Or thinks.

7

situation.

8

less advancement.] A still worse or more disgraceful

being weak, seem so.] Since you are weak, be content tą think yourself weak.

and sumpter -] Sumpter is a horse that carries necessaries on a journey, though sometimes used for the case to carry them in.

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, sir; 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 so

But she knows what she does.

Is this well spoken now?

Lear.
Reg. I dare avouch it, sir: What, fifty followers?
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 at-
tendance

From those that she calls servants, or from mine? Reg. Why not, my lord? If then they chanc'd to

slack you,

We could control them: If you will come to me, (For now I spy a danger,) I entreat you

I-embossed carbuncle,] Embossed is swelling, protuberant.

To bring but five and twenty; to no more
Will I give place, or notice.

Lear. I gave you all

Reg.

And in good time you gave it. Lear. Made you my guardians, my depositaries; But kept a reservation to be follow'd

With such a number: What, must I come to you. With five and twenty, Regan? said you so?

Reg. And speak it again, my lord; no more with

me.

Lear. Those wicked creatures yet do look well

favour'd,

When others are more wicked; not being the worst, Stands in some rank of praise:-I'll go with thee;

[To GONERIL.

Thy fifty yet doth double five and twenty,
And thou art twice her love.

Gon.

Hear me, my lord;

What need you five and twenty, ten, or five,
To follow in a house, where twice so many
Have a command to tend you?

Reg.

What need one?

Lear. O, reason not the need: our basest beggars Are in the poorest thing superfluous:

Allow not nature more than nature needs,

Man's life is cheap as beast's: thou art a lady;
If only to go warm were gorgeous,

Why, nature needs not what thou gorgeous wear'st, Which scarcely keeps thee warm.-But, for true need,

You heavens, give me that patience, patience I need!
You see me here, you gods, a poor old man,
As full of grief as age; wretched in both!
If it be you that stir these daughters' hearts
Against their father, fool me not so much
To bear it tamely; touch me with noble anger!
O, let not women's weapons, water-drops,

Stain my man's cheeks!-No, you unnatural hags, I will have such revenges on you both,

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
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.

[Storm heard at a Distance.

This house

Reg.
Is little; the old man and his people cannot
Be well bestow'd.

Gon.

"Tis his own blame; he hath

put

Himself from rest, and must needs taste his folly. Reg. For his particular, I'll receive him gladly,

But not one follower.

Gon.

So am I purpos'd.

Where is my lord of Gloster?

Re-enter GLOSTER.

Corn. Follow'd the old man forth:-he is return'd. Glo. The king is in high rage.

Corn.

Whither is he going? Glo. He calls to horse; but will I know not

whither.

Corn. 'Tis best to give him way; he leads himself. Gon. My lord, entreat him by no means to stay. Glo. Alack, the night comes on, and the bleak

winds

Do sorely ruffle; for many miles about

There's scarce a bush.

Reg.

O, sir, to wilful men, The injuries, that they themselves procure,

Must be their schoolmasters: Shut up your doors ;
He is attended with a desperate train;

And what they may incense him to, being apt
To have his ear abus'd, wisdom bids fear.

Corn. Shut up your doors, my lord; 'tis a wild
night;

My Regan counsels well: come out o'the storm.

[Exeunt.

ACT III.

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 un-
quietly.

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 curled 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 bear2 would

couch,

The lion and the belly-pinched wolf

2

the cub-drawn bear-] i. e. whose dugs are drawn dry by its young. For no animals leave their dens by night but for

prey.