I will have such revenges on you both, That all the world shall-I will do such things, [be What they are, yet I know not but they shall 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, Gloucester, Kent, and Fool. Storm and tempest. Corn. Let us withdraw; 'twill be a storm. Reg. This house is little: the old man and his people Cannot be well bestow'd. 291 Gon. 'Tis his own blame; hath put himself from rest, And must needs taste his folly. Reg. For his particular, I'll receive him gladly, But not one follower. Gon. My lord, entreat him by no means to stay. Glou. Alack, the night comes on, and the bleak winds Do sorely ruffle; for many miles about Reg. He is attended with a desperate train; My Regan counsels well; come out othe ACT III. SCENE 1. A heath. Storm still. Enter KENT and a Gentleman, meeting. Kent. Who's there, besides foul weather? Gent. One minded like the weather, most unquietly. Kent. I know you. Where's the king? Gent. Contending with the fretful element: Bids the winds blow the earth into the sea, Or swell the curled water 'bove the main, That things might change or cease; tears his white hair, Which the impetuous blasts, with eyeless rage, The lica and the belly-pinched wolf Who have-as who have not, that their great stars Throned and set high ?-servants, who seem no less, Which are to France the spies and specula tions Intelligent of our state; what hath been seen, 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 30 Into this scatter'd kingdom; who already, I am a gentleman of blood and breeding; 40 Gent. I will talk further with you. And she will tell you who your fellow is Gent. Give me your hand: have you no more to say? Kent. Few words, but, to effect, more than all yet; 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 II. Another part of the heath. Storm still. Enter LEAR and Fool. Lear. Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! rage! 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 thunderbolts, Singe my white head! And thou, all-shaking thunder, Smite flat the thick rotundity o' the world! Crack nature's moulds, all germens spill at once, That make ingrateful man! 9 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 daughters' blessing here's a night pities neither wise man nor fool. Lear. Rumble thy bellyful! 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: then let fall Your horrible pleasure: here I stand, your slave, 21 A poor, infirm, weak, and despised old man : Your high engender'd battles 'gainst a head The cod-piece that will house That's sorry yet for thee. Fool. [Singing] He that has and a little tiny wit With hey, 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 : 80 When priests are more in word than matter; Enter GLOUCESTER and EDMUND. Glou. Alack, alack, Edmund, I like not this unnatural dealing. When I desire 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 Lim. Edm. Most savage and unnatural! Glou. Go to; say you nothing. There's a division betwixt 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's 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. Though 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. 21 Edm. This courtesy, forbid thee, shall the duke Instantly know; and of that letter too: But if thy flight lay toward the raging sea, 10 Thou'ldst meet the bear i' the mouth. When the mind's free, The body's delicate: the tempest in my mind Your loop'd and window'd raggedness, defend you From seasons such as these? O, I have ta'en Too little care of this! Take physic, pomp; Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel, That thou mayst shake the superflux to them, And show the heavens more just. 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! 40 Kent. Give me thy hand. Who's there? Fool. A spirit, a spirit: he says his name's poor Tom. Kent. What art thou that dost grumble there i' the straw? Come forth. Enter EDGAR disguised as a mad man. Edg. Away! the foul fiend follows me ! Through the sharp hawthorn blows the cold wind. Hum! go to thy cold bed, and warm thee. Lear. Hast thou given all to thy two daughters ? And art thou come to this? 50 Edg. Who gives any thing to poor Tom ? whom the foul fiend hath led through fire and through flame, and through ford and whirlipool e'er 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 trotting-horse over four-inched bridges, to course his own shadow for a traitor. Bless thy five wits! Tom's acold,-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 again, and there. [Storm still. Lear. What, have his daughters brought him to this pass? Couldst thou save nothing? Didst thou give them all? Fool. Nay, he reserved a blanket, else we had been all shamed. [dulous air Lear. Now, all the plagues that in the penHang fated o'er men's faults light on thy daughters! Kent. He hath no daughters, sir. 70 Lear. Death, traitor! nothing could have subdued nature To such a lowness but his unkind daughters. Is it the fashion, that discarded fathers Should have thus little mercy on their flesh ? Judicious punishment! 'twas this flesh begot Those pelican daughters. Edg. Pillicock sat on Pillicock-hill: Halloo, halloo, loo, loo! Fool. This cold night will turn us all to fools and madmen. 81 Edg. Take heed o' the foul fiend: obey thy parents; keep thy word justly; swear not; commit not with man's sworn spouse; set not thy sweet heart on proud array. Tom's a-cold. Lear. What hast thou been? Edg. A serving-man, proud in heart and mind; that curled my hair; wore gloves in my cap; served the lust of my mistress' heart, and did the act of darkness with her; swore as many oaths as I spake words, and broke them in the sweet face of heaven: one that slept in the contriving of lust, and waked to do it: wine loved I deeply, dice dearly and in woman out-paramoured the Turk: false of heart, light of ear, bloody of hand; hog in sloth, fox in stealth, wolf in greediness, dog in madness, lion in prey. Let not the creaking of shoes nor the rustling of silks betray thy poor heart to woman: keep thy foot out of brothels, thy hand out of plackets, thy pen from lenders' books, and defy the foul fiend. Still through the hawthorn blows the cold wind: Says suum, mun, ha, no, nonny. Dolphin my boy, my boy, sessa! let him trot by. [Storm still. Lear. Why, thou wert better in thy grave than to answer with thy uncovered body this extremity of the skies. Is man no more than this? Consider him well. Thou owest the worm no silk, the beast no hide, the sheep no wool, the cat no perfume. Ha! here's three ou's are sophisticated! Thou art the thing itself unaccommodated man is no more but such a poor, bare, forked animal as thou art. Off, off, you lendings! come unbutton here. [Tearing off his clothes. Fool. Prithee, nuncle, be contented; 'tis a naughty night to swim in. Now a little fire in a wild field were like an old lecher's heart; a small spark, all the rest on's body cold. Look, here comes a walking fire. 119 Enter GLOUCESTER, with a torch. Edg. This is the foul fiend Flibbertigibbet: he begins at curfew, and walks till the first cock; he gives the web and the pin, squints the eye, and makes the hare-lip; mildews the white wheat, and hurts the poor creature of earth. S. Withold footed thrice the old ; He met the night-mare, and her nine-fold; Bid her alight, And her troth plight, And, aroint thee, witch, aroint thee! Kent. How fares your grace ? Lear. What's he? 130 Kent. Who's there? What is't you seek? Glou. What are you there? Your names? Edg. Poor Tom; that eats the swimming frog, the toad, the tadpole, the wall-newt and the water; that in the fury of his heart, when the four fiend rages, eats cow-dung for sallets; swallows the old rat and the ditch-dog; drinks the green mantle of the standing pool; who is whipped from tithing to tithing, and stockpunished, and imprisoned; who hath had three suits to his back, six shirts to his body, horse to ride, and weapon to wear; But mice and rats, and such small deer, Have been Tom's food for seven long year. Beware my follower. Peace, Smulkin; peace, thou fiend! 'Glou. What, hath your grace no better company? Edg. The prince of darkness is a gentle Thou say'st the king grows mad; I'll tell thee, friend, 170 I am almost mad myself: I had a son, But lately, very late: I loved him, friend; I do beseech your grace,- O, cry your mercy, sir. Glou. In, fellow, there, into the hovel : keep thee warm. Lear, Come let's in all. Kent. Lear. This way, my lord. With him; 180 I will keep still with my philosopher. Kent. Good my lord, soothe him; let him take the fellow. Glou. Take him you on. Kent. Sirrah, come on; go along with us. Lear. Come, good Athenian. Glou. No words, no words: hush. His word was still,-Fie, foh, and fum, Enter CORNWALL and EDMUND. Corn. I will have my revenge ere I depart his house. Edm. How, my lord, I may be censured, that nature thus gives way to loyalty, something fears me to think of. Corn. I now perceive, it was not altogether your brother's evil disposition made him seek his death; but a provoking merit, set a-work by a reprovable badness in himself. Edm. How malicious is my fortune, that I must repent to be just! This is the letter he spoke of, which approves him an intelligent party to the advantages of France. O heavens! that this treason were not, or not I the detector! Corn. Go with me to the duchess. Edm. If the matter of this paper be certain, you have mighty business in hand. Corn. True or false, it hath made thee earl of Gloucester. Seek out where thy father is, that he may be ready for our apprehension. 20 Edm. [Aside] If I find him comforting the king, it will stuff his suspicion more fully.-I will persevere in my course of loyalty, though the conflict be sore between that and my blood. Corn. I will lay trust upon thee; and thou shalt find a dearer father in my love. [Exeunt. SCENE VI. A chamber in a farmhouse adjoining the castle. Enter GLOUCESTER, LEAR, KENT, Fool, and EDGAR. Glou. Here is better than the open air; take it thankfully. I will piece out the comfort with what addition I can: I will not be long from you.' Kent. All the power of his wits have given way to his impatience: the gods reward your kindness! [Exit Gloucester. Edg. Frateretto calls me; and tells me Nero is an angler in the lake of darkness. Pray, innocent, and beware the foul fiend. Fool. Prithee, nuncle, tell me whether a madman be a gentleman or a yeoman? 11 Lear. A king, a king! Fool. No, he's a yeoman that has a gentleman to his son; for he's a mad yeoman that sees his son a gentleman before him. Lear. To have a thousand with red burning spits Come hissing in upon 'em, Edg. The foul fiend bites my back. Fool. He's mad that trusts in the tameness of a wolf, a horse's health, a boy's love, or a whore's oath. 21 Lear. It shall be done; I will arraign them straight. [To Edgar] Come, sit thou here, most learned justicer; [To the Fool] Thou, sapient sir, sit here. Now, you she foxes! Edg. Look, where he stands and glares! Wantest thou eyes at trial, madam? Come o'er the bourn, Bessy, to me,― Fool. Her boat hath a leak, And she must not speak Why she dares not come over to thee. Edg. The foul fiend haunts poor Tom in the voice of a nightingale. Hopdance cries in Tom's belly for two white herring. Croak not, black angel; I have no food for thee. Kent. How do you, sir? Stand you not so amazed: |