My naked head expos'd to th' merciless air, Gon. At your choice, sir. Lear. Now, I pr'ythee, daughter, do not make me mad! I will not trouble thee, my child; farewell; Nor tell tales of thee to avenging Heaven. Mend when thou canst; be better at thy leisure;-I can be patient, I can stay with Regan, I, and my hundred knights. Reg. Your pardon, sir; I look'd not for you yet, nor am provided Lear. Is this well spoken, now? Reg. My sister treats you fair. What! fifty fol lowers? Is it not well? What should you need of more ? Gon. Why might not you, my lord, receive attend ance From those whom she calls servants, or from mine? Reg. Why not, my lord? If then they chance to slack you, We could control them. If you come to me, Lear. I gave you all ! Reg. And in good time you gave it. Lear. Hold, now, my temper! stand this bolt un mov'd, And I am thunder proof. The wicked, when compar'd with the more wicked, Stands in some rank of praise. Now, Goneril, Gon. Hear me, my lord. [It begins to rain. What need you five and twenty, ten, or five, Have a command t'attend you? Reg. What need one? [Distant Thunder. Lear. Heav'ns drop your patience down! I have full cause of weeping; but this heart O, gods, I shall go mad! [Rain-Thunder-Lightning. [Exeunt KING LEAR, KENT and the KNIGHTS- ACT THE THIRD. SCENE I. A desert Heath.-Rain-Thunder -Lightning, Enter KING LEAR and KENT. Lear. Blow, winds, and burst your cheeks! rage Fantastic lightning, singe, singe my white head! Of proud, ingrateful man! Kent. Not all my best intreaties can persuade him Into some needful shelter, or to 'bide [Thunder. Lear. Rumble thy fill! fight whirlwind, rain and fire! Not fire, wind, rain, or thunder, are my daughters: [Rain-Thunder-Lightning. Yet I will call you servile ministers, So old and white as this. Oh! oh! 'tis foul. Some shelter from this tempest. What! so kind a [Rain-Thunder-Lightning. Lear. I will forget my nature. father! Ay, there's the point. Kent. Consider, good my liege, things, that love night, Love not such nights as this; these wrathful skies And make them keep their caves: such drenching rain, Such sheets of fire, such claps of horrid thunder, Such groans of roaring winds, have ne'er been known. [Thunder. Lear. Let the great gods, That keep this dreadful pother o'er our heads, Kent. Good sir, to th' hovel. Lear. My wits begin to turn. Come on, my boy; how dost, my boy? art cold? The art of our necessity is strange, And can make vile things precious.-my poor knave, Cold as I am at heart, I've one place there That's sorry yet for thee. [Rain-Thunder-Lightning.-Exeunt SCENE II. Room in GLOSTER'S Castle. Enter EDMUND. Edm. The storm is in our louder rev'lings drown'd. The drudging peasant's neck, who bellows out Two PAGES, from several Entrances, deliver him each a [Reads.] Where merit is so transparent, not to behold it were blindness, and not to reward it, ingratitude. Enough! blind and ungrateful should I be, GONERIL. [Reads.] If modesty be not your enemy, doubt not to find me your friend. REGAN. E |