Kent. Call not your stocks for me: I serve the king; On whose employment I was sent to you: You shall do small respect, show too bold malice Against the grace and person of my master, Stocking his messenger.

Sir, I am too old to learn:

Fetch forth the stocks:

Corn. As I've life and honour, there shall he sit till noon. Reg. Till noon! till night. my lord; and all night too, Kent. Why, madam, if I were your father's dog, You should not use me so. Reg.

Sir, being his knave, I will. [Stocks brought out. Corn. This is a fellow of the self-same colour Our sister speaks of:-Come, bring away the stocks. Glo. Let me beseech your grace not to do so: His fault is much, and the good king his master Will check him for't: Your purpos'd low correction Is such, as basest and contemned'st wretches, For pilferings and most common trespasses, Are punish'd with: the king must take it ill, That he's so slightly valued in his messenger, Should have him thus restrain'd.

Corn.
I'll answer that.
Reg. My sister may receive it much more worse,
To have her gentleman abus'd, assaulted,
For following her affairs.-Put in bis legs.-
[Kent is put in the stocks.
Come, my good lord; away. [Excunt Reg. and Corn.
Glo. I am sorry for thee, friend; 'tis the duke's
pleasure,

Whose disposition, all the world well knows,
Will not be rubb'd, nor stopp'd: I'll entreat for thee.
Kent. Pray do not, sir: I have watch'd, and travell'd

hard;

Some time I shall sleep out, the rest I'll whistle.
A good man's fortune may grow out at heels:
Give you good morrow!

Glo. The duke's to blame in this; 'twill be ill taken.

I will preserve myself: and am bethought To take the basest and most poorest shape, That ever penury, in contempt of man,

Brought near to beast: my face I'll grime with filth;
Blanket my loins; elf all my hair in knots;
And with presented nakedness out-face
The winds, and persecutions of the sky.
The country gives me proof and precedent
Of Bedlam beggars, who, with roaring voices,
Strike in their numb'd and mortified bare arms
Pins, wooden pricks, nails, sprigs of rosemary;
And with this horrible object, from low farms,
Poor pelting villages, sheep cotes and mills,
Sometime with lunatic bans; sometime with prayers,
Enforce their charity.-Poor Turlygood! poor Tom!
That's something yet;-Edgar I nothing am! [Exit.
SCENE IV-Before Gloster's castle. Enter Lear,
Fool, and Gentleman.

Lear. 'Tis strange, that they should so depart from home,

And not sent back my messenger.
Gent.

As I learn'd,
The night before there was no purpose in them
Of this remove.

[Exit.

Kent. By Juno, I swear, ay.

Kent. Good king, that must approve the common saw!

Thou out of heaven's benediction com'st
To the warm sun!

Approach, thou beacon to this under globe,
That by thy comfortable beams I may
Peruse this letter!-Nothing almost sees miracles,
But misery-I know, 'tis from Cordelia;
Who hath most fortunately been inform'd
Of my obscured course; and shall find time
From this enormous state,-seeking to give
Losses their remedies:-All weary and o'er-watch'd,
Take vantage, heavy eyes, not to behold
This shameful lodging.

Fortune, good night; smile once more; turn thy
wheel!
[He sleeps.

SCENE III-A Part of the Heath. Enter Edgar.

Edg. I heard myself proclaim'd;

And, by the happy hollow of a tree,
Escap'd the hunt. No port is free; no place,
That guard, and most unusual vigilance,

Does not attend my taking. While I may soape,

Lear. They durst not do't:

They could Lot, would not do't; 'tis worse than murder,

To do upon respect such violent outrage :
Resolve me, with all modest haste, which way
Thou might'st deserve, or they impose, this usage,
Coming from uz

Kent.

My lord, when at their home
I did commead your highness' letters to them,
Ere I was risen from the place, that show'd
My duty kneeling, came there a reeking post,
Stew'd in his haste, balf breathless, penting forth
From Goneril his mistress, salutations;
Deliver'd letters, spite of intermission,

Which presently they read: on whose contents,
They summon'd up their meiny, straight took horse;
Commanded me to follow, and attend

The leisure of their answer; gave me cold looks:
And meeting here the other messenger,
Whose welcome, I perceiv'd, had poison'd mine,
(Being the very fellow that of late
Display'd so saucily against your highness.)
Having more man than wit about me, drew;

He rais'd the house with loud and coward cries:

Your son and daughter found this trespass worth
The shame which here it suffers.

Fool. Winter's not gone yet, if the wild geese fly that way.

Fathers, that wear rags,

Do make their children blind; But fathers, that bear bags,

Shall see their children kind.

Fortune, that ar ant whore,

Ne'er turns the key to the poor.

Infirmity doth still neglect all office,

Whereto our health is bound; we are not ourselves,
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,

Should he sit here? This act persuades me,
That this remotion of the duke and her

Fool. We'll set thee to school to an ant, to teach thee there's no labouring in the winter. All that follow their noses are led by their eyes, but blind men; and there's not a nose among twenty, but can smell him that's stinking. Let go thy hold, when a great wheel runs down a hill, lest it break thy neck with following it; but the great one that goes up the hill, let him draw thee after. When a wise man gives thee better counsel, give me mine again: I would have none but knaves follow it, since a fool gives it.

That, sir, which serves and seeks for gain,
And follows but for form,
Will pack, when it begins to rain,
And leave thee in the storm.
But I will tarry; the foo! will stay,

And let the wise man fly:

The knave turns fool, that runs away;

The fool no knave, perdy.

Kent, Where learn'd you this, fool?
Fool. Not i'the stocks, fool.

Re-enter Lear, with Gloster.

Lear. Deny to speak with me? They are sick? they are weary?

They have travell'd hard to night? Mere fetches;
The images of revolt and flying off!

Fetch me a better answer.

Go, tell the duke and his wife, I'd speak with them,
Now, presently: bid them come forth and hear me,
Or at their chamber-door I'll beat the drum,
Till it cry-Sleep to death.

[Erit.

Glo. I'd have all well betwixt you. Lear. O me, my heart, my rising heart!—but, down. Fool. Cry to it, nuncle, as the cockney did to the ecls, when she put them i'the paste alive; she rapp¤ 'em o'the coxcombs with a stick, and cried. Down, we tons, down: "Twas her brother, that, in pure kindnes to his horse, butter'd his hay.

Enter Cornwall, Regan, Gloster, and Servants. Lear. Good-morrow to you both. Corn.

Hail to your grace! [Kent is set at liberty,

Some other time for that.-Beloved Regan,
Thy sister's naught: O Regan, she hath tied
Sharp-tooth'd unkindness, like a vulture, here:-
[Points to his heart,

I can scarce speak to thee; thou'lt not believe,
Of how deprav'd a quality-O Regan!
Reg. I pray you, sir, take patience; I have hope,
You less know how to value her desert,
Than she to scant her duty.

Lear.

Say, how is that?
Reg. I cannot think, my sister in the least
Would fail her obligation: If, sir, perchance,
She have restrain'd the riots of your followers,
"Tis on such ground, and to such wholesome end,
As clears her from all blame.

Lear. My curses on her!
Reg.
O, sir, you are old;
Nature in you stands on the very verge
Of her confine: you should be rul'd, and led
By some discretion, that discerns your state
Better than you yourself: Therefore, I pray you,
That to our sister you do make return;

Say, you have wrong'd her, sir.

Lear. Ask her forgiveness! Do you but mark how this becomes the house: Dear daughter, I confess that I am old; Age is unnecessary: on my knees I beg, That you'll vouchsafe me raiment, bed, and food. Reg. Good sir, no more: these are unsightly tricks: Return you to my sister.

[Kneeling,

Lear. Never, Regan: She hath abated me of half my train; Look'd black upon me; struck me with her tongur, Most serpent-like, upon the very heart:All the stor❜d vengeances of heaven fall On ber ingrateful top! Strike her young bones, You taking airs, with lameness!

O the blest gods!

Reg.
So will you wish on me, when the rash mood's on.
Lear. No, Regan, thou shalt never have my curse;
Thy tender-hefted nature shall not give

Thee o'er to harshness; her eyes are fierce, but thine
Do comfort, and not burn. 'Tis not in thee
To grudge my pleasures, to cut off my train,
To bandy hasty words, to scant my sizes,
And. in conclusion, to oppose the bolt
Against my coming in. Thou better know'st
The offices of nature, bond of childhood,
Effects of courtesy, dues of gratitude;
Thy half o'the kingdom hast thou not forget,
Wherein I thee endow'd.

[Trumpets within. Lear. Who put my man is the stocks? Corn

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.

Enter Steward.

Reg. I know't, my sister's: this approves her letter,
That she would soon be here.-Is your lady come?
Lear. This is a slave, whose easy-borrow'd pride
Dwells in the fickle grace of her he follows:-
Out, varlet, from my sight!

Corn.
What means your grace?
Lear. Who stock'd my servant? Regan, I have
good hope

Thou didst not know of't.-Who comes here? O heavens,

Enter Goneril.

If you do love old men, if your sweet sway
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, wilt thou take her by the hand?

Gon. Why not by the hand, sir? How have I of fended?

All's not offence, that indiscretion finds,
And dotage terms so.

Lear.
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.

O, sides, you are too tough!

Lear.

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. At your choice, sir.

Gon.

Lear. I pr'ythec, daughter, do not make me mad;

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 hage,

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. Cern. 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.

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 bear would couch,
The lion and the belly-pinched wolf
Keep their fur dry, unbonneted he runs,
And bids what will take all.

Kent.
But who is with lum?
Gent. None but the fool; who labours to out-jest
His heart struck injuries.

Although as yet the face of it be cover'd
With mutual cunning, 'twixt Albany and Cornwall;
Who have (as who have not, that their great stars
Thron'd and set high?) servants, who seem no les;
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
Against the old kind king; or something deeper,
Whereof, perchance, these are but furnishings ;-
But, true it is, from France there comes a power
Into this scatter'd kingdom; who already,
Wise in our negligence, have seeret feet
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 beadding sorrow
The king hath cause to plain.

I am a gentleman of blood and breeding;
And, from some knowledge and assurance, offer
This office to you.

Gent. I will talk further with you.
Kent.

No, do not.

For confirmation that I am much more
Than my out wall, open this purse, and take
What it contains: If you shall see Cordelia.
(As fear not but you shall,) show her this ring;
And she will tell you who your fellow is
That yet you do not know. Fie on this storm!
I will go seek the king.

Gent. Give me your hand: Have you no more to say? Kent. Few words, but, to effect, more than all yes; That, when we have found the king, (in which your pain

That way; I'll this ;) he that first lights on him, Holla the other. [Exeunt severally. SCENE 11-Another part of the Heath. Storm.comtinues. Enter Lear and Fool.

Lear. Blow, wind, and crack your cheeks! mage! blow!

You cataracts, and hurricanoes, spout

Till

you have drench'd our steeples, drown'd the cocks! You sulphurous and thought-executing fires, Vaunt couriers to oak-cleaving thunder-bolts, Singe my white head! And thou, all-shaking thunder, Strike flat the thick rotundity o'the work!! Crack nature's moulds, all germens spill at once, That make ingrateful man!

Fool. O nuncle, court holy-water in a dry house in better than this rain-water out o'door. Good nusele, in, and ask thy danghters blessing; here's a night pities neither wise men nor fools.

Lear. Rumble thy bellyfull! spit, fire! spout, 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 subscription; why then let fall
Your horrible pleasure; here I stand, your slave,
A poor, infirm, weak, and despis'd old man :-
But yet I call you servile ministers,
That have with two pernicious daughters join'd
Your high engender'd battles, 'gainst a head
So old and white as this. O! Q! 'tis foul!
Fool. He that has a house to put his head in, bata
good head-piece.

The cod-piece that will house,
Before the head has any,

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

Kent. Alas, sir, are you here? things that love night, Love not such nights as these; the wrathful skies Gallow the very wanderers of the dark,

And make them keep their caves: Since I was man, Such sheets of fire, such bursts of horrid thunder, Such groans of roaring wind and rain, I never Remember to have heard: man's nature cannot carry The affliction, nor the fear.

Lear. Let the great gods, That keep this dreadful pother o'er our heads, Find out their enemies now. Tremble, thou wretch, That hast within thee undivulged crimes, Unwhipp'd of justice: Hide thee, thou bloody hand; Thou perjur'd, and thou simular man of virtue That art incestuous: Caitiff, to pieces shake, That under covert and convenient seeming Hast practis'd on man's life!-Close pent-up guilts, Rive your concealing continents, and ery These dreadful summoners grace.-I am a man, More sinn'd against than sinning.

Kent.

Alack, bare-headed! Gracious my lord, hard by here is a hovel ;

Some friendship will it lend you 'gainst the tempest;
Repose you there while I to this hard bouse
(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 scanted courtesy.

My wits begin to turn.—

Lear. Come on, my boy: How dost, my boy? Art cold? I am cold myself.-Where is this straw, my fellow? The art of our necessities is strange,

That can make vile things precious. Come, your hovel; Poor fool and knave. I have one part in my heart That's sorry yet for thee.

Fool. He that has a little tiny wit,—

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

Lear. True, my good boy,-Come, bring us to this hovel. [Exeunt Lear and Kent. Fool. This is a brave night to cool a courtezan.-I'll speak a prophecy ere I go :

When priests are more in word than matter;
When brewers mar their malt with water;
When nobles are their tailors' tutors;
No heretics burn'd, but wenches' suitors:
When every case in law is right;

No squire in debt, nor no poor knight;
When slanders do not live in tongues;
Nor cutpurses come not to throngs;
When usurers tell their gold i'the field;
And bawds and whores do churches build ;-
Then shall the realm of Albion

Come to great confusion.

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

That going shall be us'd with feet.

This prophecy Merlin shall make; for I live before his time. [Exit.

SCENE III-A Room in Gloster's Castle. Enter Gloster and Edmund.

Glo. Alack, alack, Edmund, I like not this unnatural dealing: When I desired their leave that I might pity him, they took from me the use of mine own house; charged me, on pain of their perpetual displeasure, neither to speak of him, entreat for him, nor any way sustain him.

Edm. Most savage and unnatural!

Glo. Go to; say you nothing: There is division be tween the dukes; and a worse matter than that: I have received a letter this night;-tis dangerous to be spoken;-I have locked 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 seek him, and privily relieve him go you, and maintain talk with the duke, that my charity be not of him perceived: If he ask for me, I am ill, and gone to bed. If I die for it, as no less is threatened me, the king my old master must be relieved. There is is some strange thing toward, Edmund; pray you, be careful. [Exit,

Edm. This courtesy, forbid thee, shall the duke Instantly know; and of that letter too :This seems a fair deserving, and must draw me That which my father loses; no less than all; The younger rises, when the old doth fall. SCENE IV-A, Part of the Heath, with a Hovel. Enter Lear, Kent, and Fool.

[Exit.

The body's delicate: the tempest in my mind
Doth from my senses take all feeling else,
Save what beats there.-Filial ingratitude!
Is it not as this mouth should tear this hand,
For lifting food to't?-But I will punish home:~
No, I will weep no more.-In such a night,-
To shut me out! Pour on; I will endure :-
In such a night as this! O Regan, Goneri!!-
Your old kind father, whose frauk heart gave all,-
O, that way madness lies; let me shun that;
No more of that,-

Kent.

Good my lord, enter here. Lear. Pr'ythee, go in thyself; seek thine own ease; This tempest will not give me leave to ponder On things would hurt me more.-But I'll go in ; In, boy; go first. [To the Fool.] You houseless por

erty,-