Such fheets of fire, fuch bursts of horrid thunder, Lear. Let the great Gods, That keep this dreadful thund'ring o'er our heads, Tremble, thou wretch That haft within thee undivulged crimes Unwhipt of justice! Hide thee, thou bloody hand -I am a man, Gracious my Lord, hard by here is a hovel, Some friendship will it lend you 'gainst the tempeft: (More hard than is the ftone whereof 'tis rais'd; Lear. My wits begin to turn. Come on, my boy. How doft, my boy? art cold? The art of our neceffities is ftrange, That can make vile things precious. Come, your hovel; Poor fool and knave, I've one string in my heart That's forry yet for thee. Fool. He that bas and a little tiny wit, With beigh bo, the wind and the rain, Though the rain it raineth every day. Lear. True, my good boy: come, bring us to this hovel. [Exit. Fool. 'Tis a brave night to cool à courtezan. I'll (peak a prophecy or e'er I go ; When priests are more in words than matter, When When brewers marr their malt with water; No 'Squire in debt, nor no poor Knight; Come unto great confufion. This prophecy Merlin shall make, for I do live before his time. [Exit. SCENE IV. An apartment in Glo'fter's Caftle. Enter Glo'fter and Baftard. Glo. Alack, alack, Edmund, I like not this unnatural dealing; when I defired their leave that I might pity him, they took from me the use of mine own house, charg'd me on pain of perpetual displeasure, neither to speak of him, entreat for him, or any way sustain him. Baft. Moft favage and unnatural! Glo. Go to; fay you nothing. There is divifion between the Dukes, and a worse matter than that: I have received a letter this night, 'tis dangerous to be spoken, I have lock'd the letter in my clofet: 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 look for him, and privily relieve him; go you and maintain talk with the Duke, that my charity be not of him perceiv'd; if he afk for me, I am ill, and gone to bed; if I die for it, as no lefs is threatned me, the King my old mafter must be relieved. There are ftrange things toward, Edmund; pray you, be careful. Baf. This courtefie forbid thee shall the Duke N 2 [Exit. [Exit. SCENE SCENE V. 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 th' open night's too rough For nature to endure. Lear. Let me alone. Kent. Good my Lord, enter here. Lear. Wilt break my heart? [Storm fill. Kent. I'd rather break mine own; good my Lord, enter. Lear.Thou think'ft 'tis much that this contentious form Invades us to the fkin; fo 'tis to thee; But where the greater malady is fixt, The leffer is fcarce felt. Thou'dft fhun a bear; But if thy flight lay toward the roaring fea, Thou'dft meet the bear i'th' mouth; when the mind's free, Kent. Good my Lord, enter here. Lear. Pr'ythee, go in thyfelf, seek thine own ease, On things would hurt me more-but I'll go in ; Nay, get thee in; I'll pray, and then I'll fleep-[Ex. Fool. And And fhew the heav'ns more juft. Edg. [Within.] Fathom and half, fathom and half ! poor Tom. [The fool Fool. Come not in here, nuncle, here's a fpirit, help me, help me. runs out from the Hovel. Kent. Give me thy hand, who's there? Fool. A fpirit, a fpirit, he fays his name's poor Tom. Kent.What art thou that do'ft grumble there i'th' ftraw? come forth. SCENE VI. Enter Edgar, difguis'd like a Madman. Edg. Away, the foul fiend follows me. Through the fharp hawthorn blows the cold wind. Humph, go to thy bed and warm thee. Lear. Didft thou give all to thy 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, o'er bog and quagmire, that hath laid knives under his pillow, and halters in his pue; fet ratfbane by his porridge, made him proud of heart, to ride on a bay trotting horfe, over four-inch'd bridges, to course his own fhadow for a traitor,-blefs thy five wits, Tom's a-cold. do, de, do, de, do, de,-bless thee from whirlwinds, ftar-blafting, and taking; do poor Tom fome charity, whom the foul fiend vexes. There could I have him now, and there, and here again, and there. [Storm ftill. Lear. What! have his daughters brought him to this pass? Could't thou fave nothing? didft thou give 'em all? Fool. Nay, he referv'd a blanket, else we had been fhamed. 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 fubdu'd nature To fuch a lownefs, but his unkind daughters. Is it the fashion, that discarded fathers Should have thus little mercy on their flesh? N 3 Edg Edg. Pillicock fat on pillicock-hill, alow, alow, loo, t loo. Fool. This told night will turn us all to fools, and madmen. Edg. Take heed o'th' foul fiend, obey thy parents, keep thy word juftly, fwear not, commit not with man's fworn fpouse; fet not thy fweet heart on proud array. Tom's a-cold. Lear. What haft thou been? Edg. A ferving-man, proud in heart and mind; that curl'd my hair, wore gloves in my cap, ferv'd the luft of my mistress's heart, and did the act of darkness with her : iwore as many oaths as I fpáke words, and broke them in the sweet face of heav'n. One that flept on the contriving Juft, and wak'd to do it. Wine lov'd I deeply; dice dearly; and in woman, out-paramour'd the Turk. Falle of heart, light of ear, bloody of hand; hóg in sloth, fox in ftealth, wolf in greedinefs, dog in madness, lion in prey. Let not the creaking of fhoes, nor the rustling of filks,betray thy poor heart to woman. Keep thy foot out of brothels, thy hand out of plackets, thy pen from lenders books, and defie the foul fiend. Still through the hawthorn blows the cold wind: fays fuum, mun, nonny, dolphin my boy, boy, Selley: let him trot by. [Storm fill. Lear. Thou wert better in a grave, than to answer with thy uncover'd body this extremity of the skies. Is man no more than this? Confider him well. Thou ow'ft the worm no filk, the beaft 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 fuch a poor, bare, forked animal as thou art. Off, off, you lendings: come, unbutton here. [Tearing off bis cloaths, Fool. Pr'ythee, nuncle, be contented; 'tis a naughty night to fwim in. Now a little fire in a wild field were like an old letcher's heart, a small spark, and all the reft en's body cold; look, here comes a walking fire. Edg. This is the foul Flibbertigibbet; he begins at cuffew, and walks 'till the firft cock; he gives the web and the pin, fquints the eye, and makes the hare-lip; mil dews |