Reg. Good Sir, to th' purpose. (Trumpet within. Lear. Who put my man i' th' stocks ?

Enter Steward.

Corn. What trumpet's that?

Reg. I know't, my fister's. This approves her

letter,.

That she would foon be here. Is your Lady come?
Lear. This is a flave, whose easy-borrowed pride

Dwells in the fickle grace of her he follows,
Out, varlet, from my fight.

Corn. What means your Grace?

Lear. Who stock'd my fervant, Regan; I've good.

hope

Thou didst not know on't. Who comes here?

O Heav'ns,

SCENEX.

Enter Gonerill.

1

If you do love old men, if your fweet fway
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 Gon.
O Regan, will you take her by the hand?

Gon. Why not by th' hand, Sir? How have I

offended?

All's not offence that indifcretion finds,

And dotage terms fo.

Lear. O fides, you are too tough!

Will you yet hold?

stocks?

How came my man i'th

Corn. I fet him there, Sir; but his own disorders

Deferv'd much less advancement.
Lear. You? did you?

Reg. I pray you, father, being weak, seem fo.
If, 'till the expiration of your month,
You will return and fojourn with my fifter,
Difmifling half your train, come then to me.
I'm now from home, and out of that provifion
Which shall be needful for your entertainment.

Lear. Return to her, and fifty men difmifs'd?

No, rather I abjure all roofs, and chute

To wage against the enmity o' th' air,
To be

a comrade with the wolf and owl;
Neceflity's sharp pinch-Return with her?
Why, the hot-blooded France, that dow'rless took
Our youngest born, I could as well be brought
To knee his throne, and 'squire-like penfion begy
To keep base life a foot.-Return with her?
Perfuade me rather to be slave and sumpter
To this detested groom. [Looking on the Steward.
Gon. At your choice, Sir.

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 bile, A plague-fore, or imbossed carbuncle In my corrupted blood. But I'll not chide thee. Let thame 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 leifure. 1 can be patient, I can stay with Regan; 1, and my hundred Knights.

Reg. Not altogether fo;

I look'd not for you yet, nor am provided
For your fit welcome; give ear to my fifter:
For those that mingle reason with your paffion,
Must be content to think you old, and fo-
But she knows what she does.

Lear. Is this well spoken?

Reg. I dare avouch it, Sir. What, fifty followers? Is it not well? What should you need of more? Yea, or so many, fince 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 impoflible.

Gon. Why might not you, my Lord, receive at

tendance

From those that she calls fervants, or from mine? Reg. Why not, my Lord? if then they chanc'd to flack ye,

We could controul them. If you'll come to me,

For now I spy a danger, I entreat you

To bring but five and twenty; to no more

Will I give place or notice.

Leur. I gave you all

Reg. And in good time you gave it.

Lear. Made you my guardians, my depositaries;

But kept a refervation to be follow'd

With fuch a number: must I come to you
With five and twenty? Regan, said you fo?

Reg. And fpeak't again, my Lord; no more with

me.

Lear. Those wicked creatures yet do look well.

favour'd,.

When others are more wicked. Not being worst,
Stands in fome rank of praife. I'll go with thee;
[To Gonerill..

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 needs one?

Lear. O, reason not the need; our basest beggars Are in the poorest things fuperfluous. Allow not nature more than nature needs, Man's life is cheap as beasts'. Thou art a lady; If only to go warm were gorgeous,

Why, nature needs not what thou gorgeous wear'st,
Which scarcely keeps thee warın. But for true need!
You Heav'ns, give me that patience which I need!
You fee me here, you Gods, a poor old man,
As full of grief as age; wretched in both :
If it be you that flir these daughters' hearts.
Against their father, fool me not fo 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 unnat'ral hags,
I will have tuch revenges en vou both,
That all the world shall I will do such things,
What they are, yet I know not; but they shall bee

The terrors of the earth. You think I'll weep; No, I'll not weep. I have full cause of weeping. This heart shall break into a thousand flaws

Or ere I weep. O fool, I shall go mad *.

[Exeunt Lear, Glo'ster, Kent, and Fool.

SCENE ΧΙ.

Corn. Let us withdraw, 'twill be a storm.

५

[Storm and tempest.

Reg. This house is little; the old man and his

Cannot be well bestow'd.

[people

Gon. 'Tis his own blame hath put himself from

And must needs tafte his folv.

[reft,

Reg. For his particular, I'll receive him gladly;

But not one follower.

Gon. So am I purpos'd.

Where is my Lord of Glo'ster?

Enter Glo'ster.

Corn. Follow'd the old man forth. He is return'd.
Glou. The King is in high rage, and will I know

not whither.

Corn. 'Tis best to give him way, he leads himself: Gon. My Lord, intreat him by no means to stay. Glou. Alack, the night comes on, and the high

winds

Do forely 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 school-masters. Shut up your doors:
He is attended with a defp'rate train;
And what they may incenfe 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'th' storm. [Exeunt.

• This is an artful anticipation, that judiciously prepares us for the dreadful event that is to follow in the fucceeding acts. Warton.

АСТ III.

SCENE I.

A Heath.

A ftorm is heard, with thunder and lightning. Enter Kent, and a Gentleman, feverally.

Kent.

WHO's there, befides foul weather?

Gent. One minded like the weather, most unquietly.

Kent. I know you. Where's the King? Gent. Contending with the fretful elements; Bids the wind blow the earth into the fea, Or fwell the curled waters 'bove the main, That things might change or cease; tears his white

hair,

Which the impetuous blasts with eveless rage
Catch in their fury, and make nothing of;
Strives in his little world of man t' outfcorn
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 furr dry, unbonetted he runs,

And bids what will take all.

Kent. But who is with him?

Gen. None but the fool, who labours to out-jeft 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's division, Although as yet the face of it is cover'd With mutual cunning, 'twixt Albany and Cornwall, Who have, (as who have not, whom their great stars Throne and set high!) fervants 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