Reg.

What need one? 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 tame; touch me with noble anger!
O, let not women's weapons, water-drops,
Stain my man's cheeks!-No, you unnatural hags,
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. Corn. Let us withdraw, 'twill be a storm. [Storm heard at a distance. Reg. This house Is little; the old man and his people cannot

Gon. My lord, entreat him by no means to stay. Glo. Alack, the night comes on, and the bleak winds

Do sorely 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 schoolmasters: Shut up your doors;
He is attended by a desperate train,
And what they may incense him to,
Wisdom may well bid fear.

Corn. Shut up your doors, my lord; 'tis a wild night.

My Regan counsels well: come out o' the storm. [Exeunt.

SCENE.-A Heath. A storm is heard.

Enter LEAR and Fool.

Your high-engender'd battles, 'gainst a head
So old and white as this. O! O! 'tis foul!
Fool. He that has a house to put his head in,

Strike flat the thick rotundity o' the world! Crack nature's moulds, all germens spill at once, That make ingrateful man.

here's

Fool. O nuncle, court holy-water in a dry house is better than this rain-water out o' door. Good nuncle, in, and ask thy daughter's bleising; a night pities neither wise men nor fools. Lear. Rumble thy belly-full! 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 despised old man :—
But yet I call you servile ministers,
That have with two pernicious daughters join'd
* Quick as thought. † Obedience.

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 perjured. Caitiff, to pieces shake,
That under covert and convenient seeming,
Blustering noise

126.

Hast practised on man's life. Close pent-up guilts,
Rive your concealing continents, and cry
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 tem-

pest;

Repose you there: while I to this hard house
(More hard than is the stone whereof 'tis raised:
Which even but now, demanding after you,
Denied me to come in,) return, and force
Their scanted courtesy.

Lear.
My wits begin to turn.
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 may 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. SCENE.-A Chamber in a Farm house adjoining Gloster's Castle.

LEAR on a couch, KENT and the Fool watching him Enter GLOSTER.

Glo. Come hither, friend. Where is the king, my master? [are gone. Kent. Here, sir; but trouble him not: his wits Glo. Good friend, I pr'ythee take him in thy arms; I have o'erheard a plot of death upon him: There is a litter ready; lay him in 't, And drive towards Dover, friend, where thou

Oppress'd nature sleeps: This rest might yet have balm'd thy broken senses, Which, if convenience will not allow, Stand in hard cure.-Come help to bear thy master; Thou must not stay behind. [To the Fool.

Glo.

* Mercy.

not fit for your beholding. Advise the duke, where you are going, to a most festinate preparation; we are bound to the like. Our post shall be swift, and intelligent betwixt us. Farewell, dear sister; farewell, my lord of Gloster.— Enter Steward. How now? Where's the king?

[hence:

Stew. My lord of Gloster hath convey'd him
Some five or six and thirty of his knights,
Hot questrists after him, met him at gate:
Who, with some other of the lord's dependents,
Are gone with him towards Dover; where they
boast

To have well-armed friends.
Corn.
Get horses for your mistress.
Gon. Farewell, sweet lord and sister,
[Exeunt GONERIL and EDMUND.
Corn. Edmund, farewell.-Go, seek the traitor
Gloster,

Pinion him like a thief, bring him before us:
[Exeunt other Servants.
Though well we may not pass upon his life
Without the form of justice; yet our power
Shall do a courtesy to our wrath, which men
May blame, but not control. Who's there? The
traitor.

Re-enter Servants with GLOSTER.

[consider

Reg. Ingrateful fox! 'tis he. Corn. Blind fast his corky arms. Glo. What mean your graces?-Good my friends, You are my guests; do me no foul play, friends. Corn. Bind him, I say. [Servants bind him. Reg. Hard, hard.-O filthy traitor! Glo. Unmerciful lady as you are, I am none. Corn. To this chair bind him.-Villain, thou shalt find- [REGAN plucks his beard. Glo. By the kind gods, 'tis most ignobly done, To pluck me by the beard.

Reg. So white, and such a traitor!

Glo.

Naughty lady, These hairs, which thou dost ravish from my chin, Will quicken, and accuse thee. I am your host; With robbers' hands, my hospitable favours You should not ruffle thus. What will you do? Corn. Come, sir, what letters had you late from France?

Reg. Be simple-answer'd, for we know the truth. Corn. And what confederacy have you with the Late footed in the kingdom? [traitors

Reg. To whose hands have you sent the lunatic Speak. [king? Glo. I have a letter guessingly set down, Which came from one that's of a neutral heart, And not from one opposed.

Corn.

Reg.

Cunning.

And false.

To Dover. Wherefore

Corn. Where hast thou sent the king?

Glo. Reg.

To Dover? Wast thou not charged at thy perilCorn. Wherefore to Dover? Let him first an[the course. Glo. I am tied to the stake, and I must stand Reg. Wherefore to Dover?

swer that.

Glo. Because I would not see thy cruel nails Pluck out his poor old eyes; nor thy fierce sister In his anointed flesh stick boarish fangs. The sea, with such a storm as his bare head

eyes, they bleed.

Glo. Know'st thou the way to Dover? Edg. Both stile and gate, horse way and footpath. Poor Tom hath been scared out of his good wits: Bless the good man from the foul fiend! So, bless thee, master!

Glo. Here, take this purse, thou whom the Heaven's plagues

Have humbled to all strokes: that I am wretched,
Makes thee the happier :-Heavens, deal so still!
Let the superfluous, and lust-dieted man,
That slaves your ordinance, that will not see
Because he doth not feel, feel your power quickly;

So distribution should undo excess,
And each man have enough.-Dost thou know
Edg. Ay, master,
[Dover?

Glo. There is a cliff, whose high and bending head
Looks fearfully in the confined deep:
Bring me but to the very brim of it,
And I'll repair the misery thou dost bear,
With something rich about me: from that place
I shall no leading need.

Edg.

Give me thy arm : Poor Tom shall lead thee.

[Exeunt.

SCENE.-A Room in Gloster's Castle.

Enter REGAN and Steward.

Reg. But are my brother's powers set forth?

Stew.

Reg.

In person there?

Ay, madam. Himself

Stew. Madam, with much ado: Your sister is the better soldier. Reg. Lord Edmund spake not with your lord at Stew. No, madam. [home? Reg. What might import my sister's letter to Stew. I know not, lady. [him? Reg. 'Faith, he is posted hence on serious matter. It was great ignorance, Gloster's eyes being out, To let him live; where he arrives, he moves All hearts against us: Edmund I think is gone In pity of his misery, to despatch His nighted life; moreover to descry The strength o' the enemy.

Stew. I must needs after him, madam, with my letter.

[us; Reg. Our troops set forth to-morrow; stay with The ways are dangerous.

Stew. I may not, madam; My lady charged my duty in this business. Reg. Why should she write to Edmund? Might not you Transport her purposes by word? Belike, Something-I know not what.-I'll love thee Let me unseal the letter. [much, Madam, I had ratherReg. I know, your lady does not love her hus

Stew.

band;

I am sure of that: and at her late being here, She gave strange ciliads, and most speaking looks To noble Edmund; I know, you are of her bosom. Stew. I, madam ?

Reg. I speak in understanding; you are, I know it:

Therefore, I do advise you, take this note:
My lord is dead; Edmund and I have talk'd;
And more convenient is he for my hand,

If you do find him, pray you, give him this;
And when your mistress hears thus much from you,
I pray, desire her call her wisdom to her.
So, fare you well.

If you do chance to hear of that blind traitor,
Preferment falls on him that cuts him off.
Stew. 'Would I could meet him, madam! I
What party I do follow.
[would shew
Reg.

Fare thee well. [Exeunt.

SCENE.-The Country near Dover.

Enter GLOSTER, and EDGAR dressed like a peasant.
Glo. When shall we come to the top of that same
hill?
[labour.
Edg. You do climb up it now; look, how we
Glo. Methinks the ground is even.
Edg.
Horrible steep:

Hark, do you hear the sea?

Glo.

No, truly.

Edg. Why, then your other senses grow imperBy your eyes' anguish. Glo.

[fect
So may it be, indeed:
Methinks, thy voice is alter'd; and thou speak'st
In better phrase and matter than thou didst
Edg. You are much deceived; in nothing am I
But in my garments.
[changed,
Glo.
Methinks, you are better spoken.
Edg. Come on, sir; here's the place:-stand
still.-How fearful
And dizzy 'tis, to cast one's eyes so low!
The crows and choughs,* that wing the midway air,
Shew scarce so gross as beetles: half way down,
Hangs one that gathers samphire,t-dreadful
trade!

Methinks, he seems no bigger than his head:
The fishermen, that walk upon the beach,
Appear like mice; and yon' tall anchoring bark,
Diminish'd to her cock ; her cock, a buoy
Almost too small for sight: The murmuring surge,
That on the unnumber'd idle pebbles chafes,
Cannot be heard so high:-I'll look no more;
Lest my brain turn, and the deficient sight
Topple down headlong.

Glo.
Set me where you stand.
Edg. Give me your hand: You are now within
a foot

Of the extreme verge for all beneath the moon
Would I not leap upright.

Glo.
Let go my hand.
Here, friend, is another purse; in it, a jewel
Well worth a poor man's taking: Fairies and
gods,

Prosper it with thee! Go thou farther off;
Bid me farewell, and let me hear thee going.
Edg. Now, fare you well, good sir. [Seems to go.
Glo.
With all my heart.
Edg. Why I do trifle thus with his despair,
Is done to cure it.