*

I have to think so: if thou shouldst not be glad, I would divorce me from thy mother's tomb, Sepulchring an adultress.-O, are you free?

[TO KENT. 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, With 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? a
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: (5)

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 forgot,
Wherein I thee endow'd.
REG.

Good sir, to the purpose. LEAR. Who put my man i'the stocks?

[Trumpets without. CORN. What trumpet's that? REG. I know't my sister's: this approves her letter, That she would soon be here.

Enter OSWALD.

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 on't.-Who comes here? O heavens,

Enter GONERIL.

Never, Regan!

struck me with her

If do love old men, you if your sweet sway Allowf obedience, if yourselves are old,

(†) First folio omits, sir.

a Say, how is that?] This and the next speech are not in the quartos.

b You taking airs,-] To take, in old language, signified to blast, or infect with baneful influence. So in Act III. Sc. 4,"Bless thee from whirlwinds, star-blasting, and taking."

e To fall and blast her pride!] The folio tamely reads,"To fall and blister."

(*) First folio inserts, you.

d Thy tender-hefted nature-] Tender-hefted is a very doubtfal expression; and "tender hested," the reading of the quartos, is not much less so: but we have not sufficient confidence in the substitution, "tender-hearted," which Rowe and Pope adopt, to alter the ancient text.

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. [Pointing to OSWALD. At your choice, sir.

GON.

LEAR. I pr'ythee, daughter, do not make me mad:

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.

REG.

Not altogether so : I look'd not for you yet, nor am provided For your fit welcome. Give ear, sir, to my sister; For those that mingle reason with your passion,

Is this well spoken?

Must be content to think you old, and so—
But she knows what she does.
LEAR.
REG. I dare avouch it, sir: what, fifty followers?
Is it not well? What should you need of more?
Yea, or so many, sith that both charge and danger
Speak 'gainst so great a number? How, in one
house,

Should many people, under two commands,
Hold amity? "Tis hard; almost impossible.

GON. Why might not you, my lord, receive attendance

From those that she calls servants, or from mine? REG. Why not, my lord? If then they chane'd to slack ye,

We could control them. If you will come to me,
(For now I spy a danger) I entreat you
To bring but five and twenty; to no more
Will I give place or notice.

LEAR. I gave you all—
REG.

And in good time you gave it. LEAR.-Made you my guardians, my depositaries;

But kept a reservation to be followed
With such a number. What, must I come to you
With five and twenty? Regan, said you so?
REG. And speak 't again, my lord; no more
with me.

LEAR. Those wicked creatures yet do look
well-favour'd,

When others are more wicked; not being the worst

Stands in some rank of praise.—I'll go with thee; [To GONERIL.

Thy fifty yet doth double five and twenty,
And thou art twice her love.
GON.
Hear me, my lord;
What need you five and twenty, ten, or five,
To follow in a house, where twice so many
Have a command to tend you?

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! b

And Mr. Collier terms the alteration, "A fortunate recovery of what must have been the real language of the poet"!

b You heavens, give me that patience, patience I need!]

Mr. Collier's annotator reads,

- give me but patience," &c.

G

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,
And 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, GLOUCESTER, KENT, and
Fool.-Storm heard at a distance.
CORN. Let us withdraw, 't will be a storm.
REG. This house is little; the old man and his
people

Cannot be well bestow'd.

[rest,

KENT. I know you. Where's the king?
GENT. Contending with the fretful elements;
Bids the wind blow the earth into the sea,
Or swell the curled waters 'bove the main,"
That things might change or cease; tears his
white hair,

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. [couch,
This night, wherein the cub-drawn bear would

a Or swell the curled waters 'bove the main,-] That is, the main land. b That things might change or cease ;] The remainder of this speech is omitted in the folio.

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 him?
GENT. None but the fool; who labours to
out-jest

His heart-struck injuries.

KENT.

Sir, I do know you, And dare, upon the warrant of my note, Commend a dear thing to you. There is division,

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 less,

(*) First folio, is.

c Who have (as who have not, &c.] This and the seven following lines are omitted in the quartos, and the remainder of the speech commencing, "But, true it is," is left out of the folio.

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 secret feet
In some of our best ports, and are at point
To show their banner.-Now to you;
credit dare build so far

open

you

If on my
To make your speed to Dover, you shall find
Some that will thank you, making just report
Of how unnatural and bemadding 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.

'SCENE II.

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 world! Crack nature's moulds, all germens spill at once, That make ingrateful man!

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 men nor fools. Spit, fire!

LEAR. Rumble thy bellyfull!
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,
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! O! 'tis foul!
FOOL. He that has a house to put's head in,
has a good head-piece.

The cod-piece that will house,
Before the head has any,
The head and he shall louse ;—
So beggars marry many.
The man that makes his toe

What he his heart should make,
Shall of a corn cry woe,

And turn his sleep to wake.

-For there was never yet fair woman, but she made mouths in a glass.

LEAR. No, I will be the pattern of all patience; I will say nothing.

Enter KENT.

KENT. Who's there?

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

KENT. Alas, sir, are you here? things that love Love not such nights as these; the wrathful skies

(*) First folio, of. (†) First folio omits, and. the illustration he cites from the Epistle prefixed to Greene's "Groats-worth of Witte,"-"For to lend the world a furnish of witte, she lays her owne to pawne,"-is not conclusive.

dcourt holy-water-] Glozing speeches. Florio translates, Dare l'allodola, "To cog, to foist, to flatter, to give one Court-hollie water," &c. and Mantellizzare, "To court one with faire words or give court-holy-water."

e That have with two pernicious daughters join'd-] The folio reads,

"That will with two pernicious daughters join," &c.