Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are, [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? 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, dis uised 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 anything 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 trotting-horse 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?— Couldst 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 pendulous air Hang fated o'er men's faults, light on thy daughters! Kent. He hath no daughters, sir. Lear. Death, traitor! nothing could have To such a lowness but his unkind daughters.— Edg. Pillicock sat on pillicock's-hill!-- Fool. This cold night will turn us all to fools and madmen. 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's 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, outparamoured 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 women. 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 continues. 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 of us 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. Pr'y thee, nuncle, be contented; this is 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 of his body cold.-Look, here comes a walking fire. 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. Saint Withold footed thrice the wold; And her troth plight, And, Aroint thee, witch, aroint thee! Kent. How fares your grace? Enter GLOSTER, with a torch. Lear. What's he? seek? Kent. Who's there? What is 't you Glo. 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 foul fiend rages, eats cowdung for sallets; swallows the old rat and the ditch-dog; drinks the green mantle of the standing pool: who is whipped from tything to tything, and stocked, punished, 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, Smolkin; peace, thou fiend! Glo. What, hath your grace no better company? Edg. The prince of darkness is a gentleman: Modo he 's called, and Mahu, Glo. Our flesh and blood, my lord, is grown so vile, That it doth hate what gets it. Edg. Poor Tom's a-cold. Glo. Go in with me: my duty cannot suffer To obey in all your daughters' hard commands. Though their injunction be to bar my doors, And let this tyrannous night take hold upon you, Yet have I ventured to come seek you out, And bring you where both fire and food is ready. Lear. First let me talk with this philosopher.— What is the cause of thunder? Kent. Good my lord, take his offer: Go into the house. SCENE V.-A Room in GLOSTER's Castle. 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 reproveable 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 Gloster. Seek out where thy father is, that he may be ready for our apprehension. 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 GLOSTER, Lear, Kent, Fool, and EDGAR. Glo. 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 has given way to his impatience. The gods reward your kindness! [Exit GLOSTER. Edg. Frateretto calls me; and tells me, Nero is an angler in the lake of darkness. Pray, innocent, and beware the foul fiend. Fool. Pr'y thee, nuncle, tell me whether a madman be a gentleman or a yeoman? 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 them! 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. Lear. It shall be done; I will arraign them straight: Come, sit thou here, most learned justicer;— [TO EDGAR. Thou, sapient sir, sit here. [To the Fool.]-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 herrings. Croak not, black angel; I have no food for thee. Kent. How do you, sir? Stand you not so amazed: Will you lie down and rest upon the cushions? Lear. I'll see their trial first.-Bring in the evidence. Thou robéd man of justice, take thy place ;- And thou, his yoke-fellow of equity, [To the Fool. Edg. Let us deal justly. Sleepest, or wakest thou, jolly shepherd? Thy sheep be in the corn; And for one blast of thy minikin mouth, Pur! the cat is grey. Lear. Arraign her first; 'tis Goneril. I here take my oath before this honourable assembly, she kicked the poor king her father. Fool. Come hither, mistress. Is your name Goneril? Lear. She cannot deny it. Fool. Cry you mercy; I took you for a jointstool. Lear. And here's another, whose warpéd looks proclaim What store her heart is made of.-Stop her there! Arms, arms, sword, fire!-Corruption in the place! False justicer, why hast thou let her 'scape? Edg. Bless thy five wits! Kent. O pity!-Sir, where is the patience now, That you so oft have boasted to retain? Edg. My tears begin to take his part so much, They'll mar my counterfeiting. Lear. The little dogs and all, [Asute. Tray, Blanch, and Sweetheart, see they bark at me. Edg. Tom will throw his head at them :Avaunt, you curs! Be thy mouth or black or white, Dogs leap the hatch, and all are fled. Do de, de de; sessa. Come, march to wakes and fairs, and market towns.-Poor Tom, thy horn is dry. Lear. Then let them anatomise Regan; see what breeds about her heart. Is there any cause in nature that makes these hard hearts?-You, sir, I entertain you for one of my hundred; only I do not like the fashion of your garments: you will say they are Persian attire; but let them be changed. [TO EDGAR. Kent. Now, good my lord, lie here, and rest Glo. What mean your graces!--Good my You are my guests: do me no foul play, friends. Reg. So white, and such a traitor! Glo. Reg. Wherefore to Dover? Wast thou not charged at thy peril— Corn. Wherefore to Dover? Let him first answer that. Glo. I am tied to the stake, and I must stand the course. Reg. Wherefore to Dover? 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 In hell-black night endured, would have buoyed up, And quenched the stelled fires: yet, poor old heart, He holp the heavens to rain. If wolves had at thy gate howled that stern time, Thou shouldst have said "Good porter, turn the key:" All cruels else subscribed.-But I shall see the chair. Upon these eyes of thine I'll set my foot. Glo. He that will think to live till he be old, Give me some help.-O cruel! O ye gods |