me, Be fear’d of doing harm: make your own purpose, Enter EDMUND, CORNWALL, REGAN, GLOSTER, and Servants. Whose virtue and obedience doth this instant So much commend itself, you shall be ours; Edm. How now? What's the matter? Part. Natures of such deep trust we shall much need; Kent. With you, goodman boy, if you please; You we first seize on. come, I'll flesh you; come on, young master. Edm. I shall serve you, sir, Glo. Weapons! arms! What's the matter here? Truly, however else. Corn. Keep peace, upon your lives; Glo. For him I thank your grace. He dies, that strikes again : What is the matter? Corn. You know not why we came to visit you, - Reg. The messengers from our sister and the Rey. Thus out of season ; threading dark-ey'd king. night. Corn. What is your difference? Speak. Occasions, noble Gloster, of some poize, Stew. I am scarce in breath, my lord. Wherein we must have use of your advice : Kent. No marvel, you have so bestirr'd your Our father he hath writ, so hath our sister, valour. You cowardly rascal, nature disclaims in of differences, which I best thought it fit thee; a tailor made thee. To answer from our home; the several messengers Corn. Thou art a strange fellow: a tailor make From hence attend despatch. Our good old friend, I a man? Lay comforts to your bosom; and bestow Kent. Ay, a tailor, sir; a stone-cutter, or a painter, Your needful counsel to our business, could not have made him so ill, though they had Which craves the instant use. been but two hours at the trade. Glo. I serve you, madam : Corn. Speak yet, how grew your quarrel ? Your graces are right welcome. (Eseunt. Stew. This ancient ruffian, sir, whose life I have spar'd, Kent. Thou whorson zed! thou unnecessary let. ter !-My lord, if you will give me leave, I will Stew. Good dawning to thee, friend: Art of the tread this unbolted villain into mortar, and daub house? the wall of a jakes with him.-Spare my grey Kent. Ay. beard, you wagtail ? Stew. Where may we set our horses ? Corn. Peace, sirrah ! Kent. I'the mire. You beastly knave, know you no reverence ? Stew. Pr’ythee, if thou love tell me. Kent. Yes, sir; but anger has a privilege. Kent. I love thee not. Corn. Why art thou angry? (sword, Stew. Why, then I care not for thee. Kent. That such a slave as this should wear a Kent. If I had thee in Lipsbury pinfoid, I would Who wears no honesty. Such smiling rogues a3 make thee care for me. these, Stew. Why dost thou use me thus ? I know thee Like rats, oft bite the holy cords atwain (passion Which are too intrinse t'unloose: smooth every Kent. Follow, I know thee. That in the natures of their lords rebels; Stew. What dost thou know me for ? Bring oil to fire, snow to their colder moods; Kont. A knave; a rascal, an eater of broken Renege, affirm, and turn their halcyon beaks meats; a base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three-suited, With every gale and vary of their masters, hundred-pound, filthy worsted-stocking knaye ; a As knowing nought, like dogs, but following. lily-liver'd, action-taking knave; a whorson, glass. A plague upon your epileptick visage! gazing, superserviceable, finical rogue; one-trunk- Smile you my speeches, as I were a fool ? inheriting slave; one that would'st be a bawd, in Goose, if I had you upon Sarum plain, way of good service, and art nothing but the com- I'd drive ye cackling home to Camelot. position of a knave, beggar, coward, pander, and Corn. What, art thou mad, old fellow ? the son and heir of a mongrel bitch : one whom I Glo. How fell you out ? will beat into clamorous whining, if thou deny'st say that. the least syllable of thy addition. Kent. No contraries hold more antipathy, Stew. Why, what a monstrous fellow art thou, Than I and such a knave. This offence ? thus to rail on one, that is neither known of thee, Corn. Why dost thou call him knave? What's nor knows thee ? Kent. His countenance likes me not. [hers. Kent. What a brazen-faced varlet art thou, to Corn. No more, perchance, does mine, or his, or deny thou know'st me? Is it two days ago, since I Kent. Sir, 'tis my occupation to be plain; tripp'd up thy heels, and beat thee before the king? I have seen better faces in my time, Draw, you rogue : for,' though it be night, the Than stands on any shoulder that I see moon shines; I'll make a sop o'the moonshine of Before me at this instant. you : Draw, you whorson cullionly barber-monger, Corn, This is some fellow, draw. [Drawing his sword. Who, having been prais'd for bluntness, doth affect Stew. Away; I have nothing to do with thee. A saucy roughness; and constrains the garb, Kent. Draw, you rascal : you come with letters Quite from his nature : He cannot flatter, he!against the king, and take vanity the puppet's part, An honest mind and plain,--he must speak truth against the royalty of her father: Draw, you rogue, An they will take it, su; if not, he's plain. or I'll so carbonado your shanke-draw, you These kind of knaves I know, which in this rascal: come your ways. plainness Steu. Help, ho! murder! help! Harbour more craft, and more corrupter ends. Kent Strike, you slave; stand, rogue, stand; Than twenty silly ducking observants, you neat slave, strike. [Beating him. That stretch their duties nicely. Siew riely, ho! murder! murder ! Keni. Sir, in good sooth, in sincere verity, not. Under the allowance of your grand aspect, That by thy comfortable beams I may Whose influence, like the wreath of radiant fire Peruse this letter ! Nothing almost sees miracles, On fickering Phæbus' front, — But misery :-I know 'tis from Cordelia; Corn. What mean'st by this ? Who hath most fortunately been inform’d Kent. To go out of my dialect, which you disc Of my obscured course; and shall find time commend so much. I know, sir, I am no flatterer : From this enormous state,-seeking to give he that beguiled you, in a plain accent, was a plain Losses their remedies :-All weary and o'er-watch'ch knave : which, for my part, I will not be, though I Take vantage, heavy eyes, not to behold should win your displeasure to entreat me to it. This shameful lodging. Nerer any : He cleeps. SCENE III.-A vart of the Heath. Enter EDGAR, Edg. I heard myself proclaim'd; That worthy'd him, got praises of the king And, by the happy hollow of a tree, For him attempting who was self-subdu'd; Escap'd the hunt. No port is free; no place, And, in the Aeshment of this dread exploit, That guard, and most unusual vigilance, Drew on me here. Does not attend my taking: While I may scape, Kent. None of these rogues, and cowards, I will preserve myself: and am bethought But Ajax is their fool. To take the basest and most poorest shape, Corn. Fetch forth the stocks, ho ! That ever penury, in contempt of man, You stubborn ancient knave, you reverent braggart, Brought near to beast: my face I'll grime with filth; We'll teach you Blanket my loins; elf all my hair in knots ; Kent. Sir, I am too old to learn : And with presented nakedness out-face Call not your stocks for me: I serve the king; The winds, and persecutions of the sky. On whose employment I was sent to you: The country gives me proof and precedent You shall do small respect, show too bold malice Of bedlam beggars, who, with roaring voices, Against the grace and person of my master, Strike in their numb'd and mortified bare arms Stocking his messenger. Pins, wooden pricks, nails, sprigs of rosemary'; Corn. Fetch forth the stocks : And with this horrible object, from low farms, As I've life and honour, there shall he sit till noon. Poor pelting villages, sheep-cotes and mills, Reg. Till noon! till night, my lord; and all night Sometime with lunatick bans, sometime with prayers, too. Enforce their charity-Poor Turlygood! poor Tom. Kent. Why, madam, if I were your father's dog, That's something yet;-Edgar I nothing am. You should not use mé so. (Exit. Reg. Sir, being his knave, I will. Stocks brought out. SCENE IV.-Before Gloster's Castie. Enter LEAR, Fool, and Gentleman. from home, Will check him for't: your purpos’d low correction And not send back my messenger. Is such, as basest and contemned’st wretches, Gent. As I learn'd, For pilferings and most common trespasses, The night before there was no purpose in them Are punish'd with : the king must take it ill, Of this remove. That he's so slightly valued in his messenger, Kent. Hail to thee, noble master! Should have him thus restrain'd. Lear. How! Corn. I'll answer that. Mak’st thou this shame thy pastime! Reg. My sister may receive it much more worse, Kent, No, my lord. To have her gentleman abus'd, assaulted, Fool. Ha, ha; look! he wears cruel garters ! For following her affairs.-Put in his legs. Horses are tied by the heads; dogs, and bears, by (KENT is put in the stocks. the neck; moukies by the loins, and men by the Come, my good lord; away. legs : when a man is over-lusty at legs, then he (Eseunt Regan and CORNWALL. Weers wooden nether-stocks. (mistook Glo. I am sorry for thee, friend; 'tis the duke's Lear. What’s he, that hath so much thy place pleasure, To set thee here? Whose disposition, all the world well knows, Kent. It is both he and she, Kent. Yes. Lear. No, I say. A good man's fortune may grow out at heels : Kent. I say, yea. Give you good morrow ! Leur. No, no; they would not. Glo. The duke's to blame in this; 'twill be ill Kent. Yes, they have. taken. [Erit. Lear. By Jupiter, I swear, no. Kent. Good king, that must approve the common Kent. By Juno, I swear, ay. saw! Lear. They durst not do't. (murder, Thou out of heaven's benediction com'st They could not, would not do't; 'tis worse than To the warm sun ! To do upon respect such violent outrage : Approurn, thou beacon to this under giobe, Resolve me, with all modest haste which was that way. Thou might st deserve, or they impose, this usage, Fetch me a better answer Glo. My dear lord, My lord, when at their home You know the fiery quality of the duke; In his own course. I'd speak with the duke of Cornwall, and his wife. Deliver'd letters, spite of intermission, Glo. Well, my good lord, I have inform'd them so. Which presently they read: on whose contents Lear. Inform’d them! Dost thou understand me, They summon'd up their meiny, straight took horse; man ? Commanded me to follow, and attend Glo. Ay, my good lord. The leisure of their answer; gave me cold looks : Lear. The king would speak with Cornwall; the And meeting here the other messenger, dear father (vice : Whose welcome, I perceiv'd, had poison'd mine, Would with his daughter speak, commands her ser(Being the very fellow that of late Are they inform’d of this ? My breath and Display'd so saucily against your highness,) blood! Having more man than wit about me, drew; Fiery ? the fiery duke ?–Tell the hot duke. thatHe rais'd the house with loud and coward cries : No, but not yet:-may be, he is not well: Your son and daughter found this trespass worth Infirmity doth still neglect all office, The shame which here it suffers. Whereto our health is bound; we are not ourselves, Fool. Winter's not gone yet, if the wild geese fly 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 Fortune, that arrant whore, Should he sit here? This act persuades me, Ne'er turns the key to the poor.- That this remotion of the duke and her But, for all this, thou shalt have as many dolours for Is practice only. Give me my servant forth : thy daughters, as thou can'st tell in a year. Go, tell the duke and his wife, I'd speak with them, Lear. O, how this mother swells up toward my Now, presently : bid them come forth and hear me, heart ! Or at their chamber door I'll beat the drum, Glo. I'd have all well harmixt you. (Esit Kent. With the earl, sir, here within. Lear. O me, my heart, my rising heart !--but, Lear. Follow me not; down. Stay here. (Erit. Fool. Cry to it, nuncle, as the cockney did to the Geni. Made you no more offence than what you eels, when she put them i'the paste alive; she rapp d speak of? 'em o'the coxcombs with a stick, and cry'd, Dour, Kent. None. wantons, down : 'Twas her brother, that, in pure How chance the king comes with so small a train ? kindness to his horse, butter'd his hay. Fool. An thou hadst been set i'the stocks for that question, thou hadst well deserved it. Enter Cornwall, Regan, GLOSTER, and Servants. Kent. Why, fool. Lear. Good morrow to you both. Fool. We'll set thee to school to an ant, to teach Corn. Hail to your grace! thee there's no labouring in the winter. All that (Kent is set at liberty. follow their noses are led by their eyes, but blind Reg. I am glad to see your highness. men; and there's not a nose among twenty, but can Lear. Regan, I think you are; I know what reason smell him that's stinking. Let go thy hold, when I have to think so: if thou should'st not be glad, a great wheel runs down a hill, lest it break thy I would divorce me from thy mother's tomb, neck with following it; but the great one that goes Sepúlch’ring an adultress.-0, are you free ? up the hill, let him draw thee after. When a wise [To KENT man gives thee better counsel, give me mine again : Some other time for that.-Beloved Regan, I would bave none but knaves follow it, since a fool Thy sister's naught: 0 Regan, she hath tied gives it. Sharp-tooth'd unkindness, like a vulture, here, That, sir, which serves and seeks for gain, (Points to his heart. And follows but for form, I can scarce speak to thee; thou'lt not believe, Will pack, when it begins to rain, of how deprav'd a quality-0 Regan ! And leave thee in the storm. Reg. I pray you, sir, take patience; I have hope, But I will tarry; the fool will stay, You less know how to value her desert, Than che to scant her duty. Lear. Say, how is that? The fool no knave, perdy. Reg. I cannot think, my sister in the least Kent. Where learn'd you this, fool? Would fail her obligation : If, sir, perchance, Fool. Not i'the stocks, fool. She have restrain'd the riots of your followers, 'Tis on such ground, and to such wholesome end, Re-enter LEAR with GLOSTER. As clears her from all blame. Lear. Deny to speak with me? they are sick ? Lear. My curses on her! they are weary? Reg. O, sir, you are old Ther have travellid hard to-night? Mere fetches; Nature in you stands on the very verge The images of revolt and flying off! Of her confine : vou should be rul'd, and led By some discretion, that discerns your state Reg. I pray you, father, being weak, seem so Better than you yourself: Therefore, I pray you, If, till the expiration of your month, That to our sister you do make return : You will return and sojourn with my sister, Say, you have wrong'd her, sir. Dismissing half your train, come then to me; Lear. Ask her forgiveness ? I am now from home, and out of that provision Do you but mark how this becomes the house ? Which shall be needful for your entertainment. Dear daughter, I confess that I am old; Lear. Return to her, and fifty men dismiss'd ? Age is unnecessary: on my knees I beg (Kneeling. No, rather I abjure all roofs, and choose That you'll vouchsafe me raiment, bed, and food. To wage against the enmity o'the air; Reg. Good sir, no more: these are unsightly tricks: To be a comrade with the wolf and owl.- Necessity's sharp pinch!—Return with her? Why, the hot-blooded France, that dowerless took She hath abated me of half my train; Our youngest born, I could as well be brought Look'd black upon me; struck me with her tongue, To knee his throne, and, squire-like, pension beg Most serpent-like, upon the very heart: To keep base life afoot :-Return with her ? All the stor'd vengeances of heaven fall Persuade me rather to be slave and sumpter On ber ingrateful top! Strike her young bones, To this detested groom. (Looking on ihe Steward. You taking airs, with lameness ! Gon. At your choice, sir. Corn. Fye, fye, fye! Lear. I pr’ythee, daughter, do not make me mad; Lear. You nimble lightnings, dart your blinding I will not trouble thee, my child; farewell : flames We'll no more meet, no more see one another :Into her scornful eyes! Infect her beauty, But yet thou art my flesh, my blood, my daughter; You fen-suck*d fogs, drawn by the powerful sun, Or, rather, a disease that's in my flesh, To fall and blast her pride! Which I must needs call mine ; thou art a boil, Reg. O the blest gods ! A plague-sore, an embossed carbuncle, So will you wish on me, when the rash mood's on. In my corrupted blood. But I'll not chide thee; Lear. No, Regan, thou shalt never have my curse; Let shame come when it will, I do not call it : Thy tender-hefted nature shall not give I do not bid the thunder-bearer shoot, Thee o'er to harshness; her eyes are fierce, but thine Nor tell tales of thee to high-judging Jove: Do comfort, and not burn : 'Tis not in thee Mend, when thou canst; be better, at thy leisure : To grudge my pleasures, to cut off my train, I can be patient; I can stay with Regan, To bandy hasty words, to scant my sizes, I, and my hundred knights. And, in conclusion, to oppose the bolt Reg. Not altogether so, sir ; Against my coming in : thou better know'st I look'd not for you yet, nor am provided The offices of nature, bond of childhood, For your fit welcome: Give ear, sir, to my sister; Effects of courtesy, dues of gratitude ; For those that mingle reason with your passion, Thy half o’the kingdoin hast thou not forgot, Must be content to think you old, and soWherein 1 thee endow'd. But she knows what she does. Lear. Is this well spoken now? [Trumpels within. Rey. I dare avouch it, sir : What, fifty followers ? Lear. Who put my man i'the stocks ? Is it not well? What should you need of more ? Corn. What trumpet's that? Yea, or so many? sith that both charge and danger Speak 'gainst so great a number? How, in one Enter Steward. house, Reg. I know't, my sister's: this approves her. Should many people, under two commands, letter, Hold amity ? 'Tis hard; almost impossible. That she would soon be here.—Is your lady come ? Gon. Why might not you, my lord, receive alLear. This is a slave, whose easy-borrow'd pride tendance Dwells in the fickle grace of her he follows:- From those that she calls servants, or from mine? Out, varlet, from my sight! Reg. Why not, my lord ? If then they chanc'd tr Corn, What means your grace? Lear. Who stock'd my servant? Regan, I have We could control them: If you will come to me, good hope [heavens, (For now I spy a danger,) I entreat you Thou didst not know of't.-Who comes here? 0 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 Allow obedience, if yourselves are old, Lear. Made you my guardians, my depositaries ; Make it your cause ; send down, and take my part: But kept a reservation to be follow'd Art not asham'd to look upon this beard ? With such a number: What, must I come to you ( To GONERIL. With five and twenty, Regan ? said you so? O, Regan, wilt thou take her by the hand ? Reg. And speak it again, my lord; no more with Gon. Why not by the hand, sir ? How have I (favour'd, offended ? Lear. Those wicked creatures yet do look wellAll's not offence, that indiscretion finds, When others are more wicked; not being the worst, And dotage terms so. Stands in some rank of praise :-I'll go with thee; Lear, O, sides, you are too tough! [ To GONERIL. Will you yet hold ?—How came my man i'the Thy fifty yet doth double five and twenty, stocks? And thou art twice her love. Corn. I set him there, sir : but his own disorders Gon. Hear me, my lord Deserv'd much less advancement. + What need you five and twenty, ten, or five, isar You! did you? To follow in a house, where twice so many slack you, me. Have a command to tend you ? Gent. One minded like the weather, most un Reg. What need one? quietly. Lear. O, reason not the need: our basest beggars Kent. I know you; Where's the king ? Are in the poorest thing superfluous : Gent. Contending with the fretful element: Allow not nature more than nature needs, Bids the wind blow the earth into the sea, Man's life is cheap as beast's: thou art a lady; Or swell the curled waters 'bove the main, hair If only to go warm were gorgeous, That things might change, or cease: tears his white Why, nature needs not what thou gorgeous wear’st, Which the impetuous blasts, with eyeless rage, Which scarcely keeps thee warm.- But, for true Catch in their fury, and make nothing of: need, Strives in his little world of man to out-scorn You heavens, give me that patience, patience I need! The to-and-fro-conflicting wind and rain. You see me here, you gods, a poor old man, This night, wherein the cub-drawn bear would couch, As full of grief as age; wretched in both! The lion and the belly-pinched wolf If it be you that stir these daughters' hearts Keep their fur dry, unbonneted he rups, Against their father, fool me not so much And bids what will take all. To bear it tamely; touch me with noble anger! Kent. But who is with him? 0, let not women's weapons, water-drops, Gent. None but the fool; who labours to out-jest Stain my man's cheeks '-No, you unnatural hags, His heart-struck injuries. I will have such revenges on you both, Kent. Sir, I do know you; That all the world shall-I will do such things, - And dare, upon the warrant of my art, What they are, yet I know not; but they shall be Commend a dear thing to you. There is division, The terrors of the earth. You think, I'll weep; Although as yet the face of it be cover'd No, I'll not weep : With mutual cunning, 'twixt Albany and Cornwall; I have full cause of weeping; but this heart Who have (as who have not, that their great stars Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws, Thron'd and set high!) servants, who seem no less ; Or ere I'll weep:-0, fool, I shall go mad! Which are to France the spies and speculations [Exeunt Lear, Gloster, Kent, and Fool. Intelligent of our state; what hath been seen, Corn. Let us withdraw, 'twill be a storm. Either in snuffs and packings of the dukes ; (Storm heard at a distance. Or the hard rein which both of them have borne Reg. This house Against the old kind king; or something deeper, Is little; the old man and his people cannot Whereof, perchance, these are but furnishings; Be well bestow'd. But, true it is, from France there comes a power Gon. 'Tis his own blame; he hath put into this scatter'd kingdom; who already, Himself from rest, and must needs taste his folly. Wise in our negligence, have secret feet Reg. For his particular, I'll receive him gladly, 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 I am a gentleman of blood and breeding; Whither is he going? And, from some knowledge and assurance, offer „Glo. He calls to horse ; but will I know not This office to you. whither. self. Gent. I will talk further with you. Corn. 'Tis best to give him way; he leads him Kent. No, do no Gon. My lord, entreat him by no means to stay. For confirmation that I am much more Glo. Alack, the night comes on, and the bleak Than my out wall, open this purse, and take winds What it contains : If you shall see Cordelia, Do sorely ruffle ; for many miles about (As fear not but you shall,) show her this ring; There's scarce a bush. And she will tell you who your fellow is Reg. O, sir, to wilful men, That yet you do not know. Fye on this storm! The injuries, that they themselves procure, I will go seek the king. (say ? Must be their schoolmasters : Shut up your doors; Gent. Give me your hand: Have you no more to He is attended with a desperate train; Kent. Few words, but, to effect, more than all And what they may incense him to, being apt yet ; [pain To have his ear abus'd, wisdom bids fear. That, when we have found the king, (in which your Corn. Shut up your doors, my lord; 'tis a wild That way; I'll this :) he that first lights on him, night; Holla the other. (Eseunt severally. My Regan counsels well: come out o’the storm. (Ereunt. SCENE II.-Another Part of the Heath. Storm continues, Enter LEAR and Fool. Lear. Blow wind, and crack your cheeks! iage! blow! You cataracts, and hurricanoes, spout (cocks! SCENE I. - A Heath. Till you have drench'd our steeples, drown'd the You sulphuroa and thought-executing fires, á form is heard, with thunder and lightning. Enter Vaunt couri to oak-cleaving thunder-bolts, Kent and a Gentleman, meeling, Singe my white head! And thou, all-shaking thunder, Eert. Who's here, beside foul weather ? Strike flat the thick rotundity o'the world! |