For instant remedy: Be then defir'd By her, that else will take the thing she begs, And the remainder, that shall still depend, Lear. Darkness and devils →→ Saddle my horfes; call my train together.- Gon. You strike my people; and your disorder'd rabble Make fervants of their betters. Enter ALBANY. Lear. Woe, that too late repents,-O, fir, are you come? Is it your will? [to ALB.] Speak, fir.-Prepare my horses. Ingratitude! thou marble-hearted fiend, More hideous, when thou show'ft thee in a child, Than the fea-monster! Alb. Pray, fir, be patient. [to GONERIL. Lear. Detefted kite! thou lieft: My train are men of choice and rarest parts, That all particulars of duty know; And in the moft exact regard fupport The worships of their name.-O most finall fault, Which, like an engine, wrench'd my frame of nature Beat at this gate, that let thy folly in, [ftriking his head. Alb. My lord, I am guiltlefs, as I am ignorant Of what hath mov'd you. Lear. Lear. It may be so, my lord.-Hear, nature, hear; Thou didst intend to make this creature fruitful! Dry up in her the organs of increase; feel [Exit. Alb. Now, gods, that we adore, whereof comes this ? Gon. Never afflict yourself to know the cause; But let his difpofition have that scope That dotage gives it. Re-enter LEAR. Lear. What, fifty of my followers, at a clap! Within a fortnight? -Alb. What's the matter, fir? Lear. I'll tell thee;-Life and death! I am afham'd That thou hast pow'r to shake my manhood thus: [to GONERIL. That these hot tears, which break from me perforce, Should make thee worth them.-Blafts and fogs upon thee! The untented woundings of a father's curfe To To temper clay.-Ha! is it come to this? Gon. Do you mark that, my lord? Alb. I cannot be so partial, Goneril, To the great love I bear you, Gon. Pray you, content.-What, Ofwald, ho! You, fir, more knave than fool, after your mafter. [to the FOOL. Fool. Nuncle Lear, nuncle Lear, tarry, and take the fool with thee. A fox, when one has caught her, Should fure to the flaughter, If my cap would buy a halter; So the fool follows after. [Exit. Gon. This man hath had good counsel :-A hundred knights! "Tis politick, and fafe, to let him keep At point, a hundred knights. Yes, that on every dream, He may enguard his dotage with their powers, Gon. Safer than trust: What he hath uttered, I have writ my fifter; If If she sustain him and his hundred knights, When I have fhow'd the unfitnefs,-How now, Ofwald? Enter STEWARD. What, have you writ that letter to my fifter? Stew. Ay, madam. Gon. Take you some company, and away to horfe: Inform her full of my particular fear; And thereto add fuch reasons of your own, As may compact it more. Get you gone; And haften your return. [Exit Stew.] No, no, my lord, Alb. How far your eyes may pierce, I cannot tell Gon. Nay, then Alb. Well, well; the event. [Exeunt. LEAR. Go you before to Glofter, with these letters: acquaint my daughter no further with any thing you know, than comes from her demand out of the letter: If your diligence be not speedy, I fhall be there before you. Kent, I will not fleep, my lord, till I have delivered your letter. [Exit Fool. If a man's brains were in his heels, were't not in danger of kibes ? Lear. Ay, boy. Fool Fool. Then, I pr'ythee, be merry; thy wit fhall not go flip-fhod. Lear. Ha, ha, ha! Fool. Shalt fee, thy other daughter will use thee : kindly for though fhe's as like this as a crab is like an apple, yet I can tell what I can tell. Lear. Why, what can't thou tell, my boy? Fool. She will taste as like this, as a crab does to a crab. Thou canst tell, why one's nofe stands i' the middle of his face? Lear. No. Fool. Why, to keep his eyes on either fide his nose; that what a man cannot smell out, he may spy into. Lear. I did her wrong : Fool. Can't tell how an oyster makes his shell? Fool. Nor I neither; but I can tell why a fnail has a house. Lear. Why? Fool. Why, to put his head in; not to give it away to his daughters, and leave his horns without a cafe. Lear. I will forget my nature.-So kind a father !— Be my horfes ready? Fool. Thy affes are gone about 'em. The reason why the seven stars are no more than feven, is a pretty reafon. Lear. Because they are not eight? Fool. Yes, indeed: Thou would'ft make a good fool. Lear. To take it again perforce! Monster ingratitude! Fool. If thou wert my fool, nuncle, I'd have thee beaten for being old before thy time. Lear. How's that? Fool. Thou should'st not have been old, before thou hadt been wife. Lear. |