Lear. I will forget my nature.

Lear. Ha, ha, ha!

-So kind a

Fool. Thy asses are gone about 'em. The reason why the seven stars are no more than seven, is a pretty reason.

Lear. Because they are not eight?

Fool. Yes, indeed: thouwould'st make a good fool. Lear. To take it again perforce !-Monster ingratitude!

Fool. If thou wert my fool, nuncle, I'd have thee beaten for being old before thy time. Lear. How's that?

Fool. Thou should'st not have been old, before thou hadst been wise.

Lear. O let me not be mad, not mad, sweet heaven! Keep me in temper: I would not be mad!Enter Gentleman.

How now! are the horses ready?
Gent. Ready, my lord.

Lear. Come, buy.

[departure,

Fool. She that is maid now, and laughs at my Shall not be a maid long, unless things be cut shorter. [exeunt.

SCENE I. A COURT WITHIN THE CASTLE OF THE EARL OF GLOSTER.

Enter Edmund and Curan, meeting.

Edm. Save thee, Curan.

Yield: -come before my father; Light, ho here!

Fly, brother: Torches! torches !-So, farewell.— [exit Edgar.

[wounds his arm.

Edm. How comes that?

Cur. Nay, I know not: you have heard of the news abroad; I mean, the whispered ones, for they are yet but car-kissing arguments?

Edm. Not I: 'Pray you, what are they?
Cur. Have you heard of no likely wars toward,
'twixt the dukes of Cornwall and Albany?
Edm. Not a word.

Cur. You may then, in time. Fare you well,
sir.
[exit.

Edm. The duke be here to-night? the better!
best!

This weaves itself perforce into my business!
My father hath set guard to take my brother;
And I have one thing, of a queazy question,
Which I must act:-Briefness, and fortune,
work!-

Brother, a word; descend:-Brother, I say;
Enter Edgar.
My father watches :-O sir, fly this place :
Intelligence is given where you are hid;
You have now the good advantage of the night:-
Have you not spoken 'gainst the duke of Cornwall?
He's coming hither; now, i'the night, i'the haste,
And Regan with him: have you nothing said
Upon his party 'gainst the duke of Albany?
Advise yourself.

Edg. I am sure on't, not a word.

Edm. I hear my father coming,-Pardon me:In cunning, I must draw my sword upon you:Draw: Seem to defend yourself: now quit you

well.

Of my more fierce endeavour: I have seen drunkDo more than this in sport.-Father! father! [ards Stop, stop! No help?

Enter Gloster, and Servants with torches. Glo. Now, Edmund, where's the villain? Edm. Here stood he in the dark his sharp

sword out,

Mumbling of wicked charms, conjuring the moon To stand his auspicious mistress:

Glo. But where is he? Edm. Look, sir, I bleed.

Glo. Where is the villain, Edmund? [couldEdm. Fled this way, sir. When by no means he Glo. Pursue hini,bo!-Go after.-[exit Servant} By no means,-what? [lordship; Edm. Persuade me to the murder of your But that I told him, the revenging gods 'Gainst parricides did all their thunders bend Spoke, with how manifold and strong a bond The child was bound to the father;-Sir, in fine, Seeing how loathly opposite I stood To his unnatural purpose, in fell motion, With his prepared sword, he charges home My unprovided body, lanc'd mine arm : But when he saw my best alarum'd spirits, Bold in the quarrel's right, rous'd to the encounter, Or whether gasted by the noise I made, Full suddenly he fled.

Glo. Let him fly far:

Not in this land shall he remain uncaught
And found-Despatch.-The noble duke my

master,

My worthy arch and patron, comes to-night; By his authority I will proclaim it,

You we first seize on.

Edm. When I dissuaded him from his intent,
And found him pight to do it, with curst speech
I threaten'd to discover him: He replied,
"Thou unpossessing bastard! dost thou think,
If I would stard against thee, would the reposal
Of any trust, virtue, or worth, in thee
Make thy words faith'd? No: what I should deny
(As this I would; ay, though thou didst produce
My very character,) I'd turn it all

To thy suggestion, plot, and damned practice:
And thou must make a dullard of the world,
If they not thought the profits of
my death
Were very pregnant and potential spurs
To make thee seek it."

Glo. Strong and fasten'd villain!

Would he deny his letter?—I never got him. [trumpets within.

Hark, the duke's trumpets! I know not why he

comes:

All ports I'll bar; the villain shall not 'scape;
The duke must grant me that: besides, his picture
I will send far and near, that all the kingdom
May have due note of him; and of my land,
Loyal and natural boy, I'll work the means
To make thee capable.

Enter Cornwall, Regan, and Attendants. Corn. How now, my noble friend? since I came hither [news. (Which I can call but now,) I have heard strange Reg. If it be true, all vengeance comes too short, Which can pursue the offender. How dost, my lord? [crack'd! Glo. O, madam, my old heart is crack'd, is Reg. What, did my father's godson seek your He whom my father nam'd?-your Edgar? [life? Glo. O, lady, lady, shame would have it hid! Reg. Was he not companion with the riotous That tend upon my father? [knights

Glo. I know not, madam:

It is too bad, too bad

Edm. Yes, madam, he was.

Reg. No marvel then, though he were ill affected; 'Tis they have put him on the old man's death, To have the waste and spoil of his revenues. I have this present evening from my sister Been well inform'd of them; and with such cautions,

That, if they come to sojourn at my house,
I'll not be there.

Corn. Nor I, assure thee, Regan.

Edm. I shall serve you, sir.

Truly, however else.

Glo. For him, I thank your grace. [you,

Corn. You know not why we came to visit Reg. Thus out of season; threading dark-ey'd Occasions, noble Gloster, of some poize, [night. Wherein we must have use of your advice :— Our father he hath writ, so hath our sister, Of differences, which I best thought it fit To answer from our home; the several messengers From hence attend despatch. Our good old friend, Lay comforts to your bosom; and bestow Your needful counsel to our business, Which craves the instant use.

Glo. I serve you, madam:

Your graces are right welcome.

[exeunt.

SCENE II. BEFORE GLOSTER'S CASTLE. Enter Kent and Steward, severally. Stew. Good dawning to thee, friend: art of the house?

Kent. Ay.

Stew. Where may we set our horses?
Kent. I'the mire.

Stew. Pr'ythee, if thou love me, tell me.
Kent. I love thee not.

Stew. Why, then I care not for thee.

Kent. If I had thee in Lipsbury pinfold, I would make thee care for me.

Stew. Why dost thou use me thus? I know thee not.

Kent. Fellow, I know thee.

Stew. What dost thou know me for?

Kent. A knave; a rascal, an eater of broken meats; a base, proud, shallow, beggarly, threesuited, hundred-pound, filthy worsted-stocking knave; a lily-liver'd, action-taking knave; a whoreson, glass-gazing, super-serviceable, finical rogue; one-trunk-inheriting slave; one that would'st be a bawd, in way of good service, and art nothing but the composition of a knave, beggar, coward, pander, and the son and heir of a mongrel bitch: one whom I will beat into clamorous whining, if thou deniest the least syllable of thy addition.

Stew. Why, what a monstrous fellow art thou thus to rail on one, that is neither known of thee, nor knows thee!

Kent. What a brazen-faced varlet art thou, to deny thou know'st me! Is it two days ago, since I tripped up thy heels, and beat thee, before the king? Draw, you rogue: for, though it he night,

A child-like office.

Edm. 'Twas my duty, sir.

Glo. He did bewray his practice; and receiv'd This hurt you see, striving to apprehend him. Corn. Is he pursued?

Glo. Ay, my good lord, he is.

Corn. If he be taken, he shall never more
Be fear'd of doing harm: make your own purpose,
How in my strength you please.-For you,
Edmund,

Whose virtue and obedience doth this instant
So much commend itself, you shall be ours;

of you: draw, you whoreson cullionly barbermonger, draw. [drawing his sword Stew. Away; I have nothing to do with thea Kent. Draw, you rascal; you come with letters against the king; and take vanity the puppet part, against the royalty of her father: draw, you rogue, or I'll so carbonado your shanks:draw, you rascal; come your ways.

Stew. Help, ho! murder! help!

Kent. Strike you slave; stand, rogue, stand; you neat slave, strike.

Stew. Help, ho! murder! murder

Kent. Pray, do not, sir: I have watch'd, and

mon 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.

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

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 'scape
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,
[Tom!
Enforce their charity.-Poor Turlygood! poor
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 send back my messenger.

Gent. As I learn'd,

The night before there was no purpose in them
Of this remove.

Kent. Hail to thee, noble master!
Lear. How!

Mak'st thou this shame thy pastime?

Kent. No, my lord.

To set thee here?

Kent. It is both he and she, Your son and daughter.

Kent. By Juno, I swear, ay.

Lear. They durst not do't;

[misteck

[murder,

They could not, would not, do't; 'tis worse than
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 us.

Kent. My lord, when at their home

I did commend 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, half-breathless, panting 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
Commanded me to follow, and attend [horse:
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 arrant whore,

Ne'er turns the key to the poor.

But, for all this, thou shalt have as many dolours for thy daughters, as thou canst tell in a year. Lear. O, how this mother swells up toward my heart!

Hysterica passio! down, thou climbing sorrow,
Thy element's below!-Where is this daughter?
Kent. With the earl, sir, here within.
Lear. Follow me not;

Stay here.

[exit. Gent. Made you no more offence than what Kent. None. [you speak of?

How chance the king comes with so small a train?
Fool. An thou hast been set i'the stocks for
that question, thou hadst well deserved it.
Kent. Why, fool?

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,

sest 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 fool 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.

Glo. My dear lord,

You know the fiery quality of the duke; How unremovable and fix'd he is

In his own course.

80.

Lear. Vengeance! plague! death! confusion!Fiery! what quality? Why, Gloster, Gloster, I'd speak with the duke of Cornwall and his wife. Glo. Well, my good lord, I have inform'd them [me, man? Lear. Inform'd them? Dost thou understand Glo. Ay, my good lord. Lear. The king would speak with Cornwall; the dear father [service: Would with his daughter speak, commands her Are they inform'd of this?-My breath and blood!

Fiery? the fiery duke?-Tell the hot duke, that
No, but not yet:-may be, he is not well;
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 where-
fore
[looking on Kent.
Should he sit here? This act persuades me,
That this remotion of the duke and her
Is practice only. Give me my servant forth :
Go, tell the duke and his wife, I'd speak with
them,
[me,
Now, presently: bid them come forth and hear
Or at their chamber door I'll beat the drum,
Till it cry-Sleep to death.

[exit.

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 eels, when she put them i'the paste alive; she rapp'd 'em o'the coxcombs with a stick, and cried, Down, wantons, down: 'Twas her brother, that, in pure kindness 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.
Reg. I am glad to see your highness.

Lear. Regan, I think you are; I know what

reason

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, [kneeling.
That you'll vouchsafe me raiment, bed, and food.

Reg. Good sir, no more; these are unsightly Return you to my sister.

Lear. Never, Regan:

[tricks:

She hath abated me of half my train;
Look'd black upon me; struck me with her tongue,
Most serpent-like, upon the very heart:-
All the stor'd vengeances of heaven fall
On her ingrateful top! Strike her young bones,
You taking airs, with lameness!

Corn. Fie, fie, fie!

[ing flames Lear. You nimble lightnings,, dart your blindInto her scornful eyes! Infect her beauty, You fen-suck'd fogs, drawn by the powerful sun, To fall and blast her pride!

Reg. O the blest gods!