Enter Kent. Lear. No, I will be the pattern of all patience, I will say nothing. Kent. Who's there? 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 And make them keep their caves: Since I was man, carry The affliction, nor the fear. Lear. Let the great guds, Unwhipp'd of justice: Hide thee, thou bloody hand; These dreadful summoners grace.5-I am a man, Kent. Alack, bare-headed! Denied me to come in,) return, and force (1) Scare or frighten. (2) Blustering noise. (3) Counterfeit. (4) Appearance. (5) Favour. (6) Inquiring. Their scanted courtesy. Lear. My wits begin to turn.— Come on, my boy: How dost, my boy? Art cold? I ain 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 wil, With heigh, ho, the wind and the rain,Must make content with his fortunes fit; For the rain it raineth every day. this hovel. Lear. True, my good boy.-Come, bring us to [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; And bawds and whores do churches build;- Come to great confusion. Then comes the time, who lives to see't, 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 un (1) Part of the Clown's song in Twelfth Night. natural 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 between 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 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. [Exit. SCENE IV-A part of the heath, with a hovel. Enter Lear, Kent, and Fool. Kent. Here is the place, my lord; good my lord, enter: The tyranny of the open night's too rough For nature to endure. Lear. [Storm still. Let me alone. Wilt break my heart? Kent. Good my lord, enter here. Kent. I'd rather break mine own: Good my lord, enter. Lear. Thou think'st 'tis much, that this conten tious storm (1) A force already landed. Invades us to the skin: so 'tis to thee; The lesser is scarce felt. Thou'dst shun a bear: But if thy flight lay toward the raging sea, Thou'dst meet the bear i'the mouth. When the mind's free, : The body's delicate: the tempest in my mind 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 Nay, get thee in. I'll pray, and then I'll sleep.- you Edg. [Within.] Fathom and half, fathom and half! Poor Tom! [The Fool runs out from the hovel. Fool. Come not in here, nuncle, here's a spirit. Help me, help me! Kent. Give me thy hand.-Who's there? Tom. Kent. What art thou that dost grumble there i'the straw? Come forth. Enter Edgar, disguised as a madman. Edg. Away! the foul fiend follows me!— Through the sharp hawthorn blows the cold wind.Humph! go to thy cold bed, and warm thee. Lear. Hast thou given all to thy two daughters? And art thou come to this? Edg. Who gives any thing to poor Tom? whom the foul fiend hath led through fire and through flame, through ford and whirlpool, over bog and quagmire; that hath laid knives under his pillow, and halters in his pew; set ratsbane by his porridge; made him proud of heart, to ride on a bay trottinghorse over four-inched bridges, to course his own shadow for a traitor:-Bless thy five wits! Tom's a-cold.-O, do de, do de, do de-Bless thee from whirlwinds, star-blasting, and taking! Do poor Tom some charity, whom the foul fiend vexes: There could I have him now,-and there,-and there, and there again, and there. [Storm continues. Lear. What, have his daughters brought him to this pass? Could'st thou save nothing? Didst thou give them all? Fool. Nay, he reserved a blanket, else we had been all shamed. Lear. Now, all the plagues that in the pendu lous air Hang fated o'er men's faults, light on thy daughters! Kent. He hath no daughters, sir. (1) To take is to blast, or strike with malignant influence. |