Edg. This is the foul Flibbertigibbèt; he begins at curfew, and walks till the firft cock; he gives the web and the pin, fquints the eye, and makes the hairlip mildews the white wheat, and hurts the poor creature of the earth.

:

Saint Withold footed thrice the wold,

He met the night-mare, and her name told,
Bid her alight, and her troth plight,
And aroynt thee, witch, aroynt thee right.

Kent. How fares your Grace?

Lear.

SCENE

VII.

Enter Glo'fter, with a Torch. 'HAT's he?

WHA

Kent. Who's there? what is't you feek? Glo. What are you there? your names?

Edg. Poor Tom, that eats the fwimming frog, the toad, the tod pole; the wall-newt, and the waternewt; that in the fury of his heart, when the foul fiend rages, eats cow-dung for fallets; fwallows the old rat, and the ditch-dog; drinks the green mantle of the standing-pool; who is whipt from tything to tything, and flock-punifh'd, and imprifon'd: who hath had three fuits to his back, fix fhirts to his body; horfe to ride, and weapon to wear:

But mice, and rats, and fuch small geer

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 call'd, and Mahu.

Glo. Our flesh and blood, my lord, is grown fo vile, That it doth hate what gets it.

Edg. Tom's a-cold.

Glo. Go in with me; my duty cannot fuffer

T'obey

T'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 ventur'd to come feek you out,

And bring you where both fire and food is ready.
Lear. First, let me talk with this Philofopher;-
What is the cause of thunder?

Kent. My good lord, take his offer,

Go into th' house.

Lear. I'll talk a word with this fame learned Theban: What is your ftudy?

Edg. How to prevent the fiend, and to kill vermin. Lear. Let us afk you one word in private.

Kent. Importune him once more to go, my His Wits begin t' unfettle.

Glo. Canft thou blame him?

lord;

[Storm ftill.

His Daughters feek his death: ah, that good Kent! He faid, it would be thus; poor banish'd man! Thou fay'ft, the King grows mad; I'll tell thee, friend, I'm almoft mad myself; I had a fon,

Now out-law'd from my blood; he fought my life, But lately, very late; I lov'd him, friend,

No father his fon dearer: true to tell thee,

The grief hath craz'd my wits. What a night's this? I do befeech your Grace.

Lear. O cry you mercy, Sir:

Noble Philofopher, your company.

Edg. Tom's a cold.

Glo. In, fellow, into th' hovel; keep thee warm. Lear. Come, let's in all.

Kent. This way, my lord.

Lear. With him;

I will keep ftill with my Philofopher.

Kent. Good my lord, footh him; let him take the

fellow.

Glo. Take him you on.

Kent. Sirrah, come on; along with us.

Lear. Come, good Athenian.

Glo. No words, no words, hush.

Edg. Child Rowland to the dark tower came;
His word was fill, fie, foh, and fum,
I fmell the blood of a British man.

Corn.

I

[Exeunt.

Will have revenge, ere I depart his house. Edm. How, my lord, I may be cenfur'd, that Nature thus gives way to loyalty, fomething fears me to think of.

Corn. I now perceive, it was not altogether your brother's evil difpofition made him feek his death: but a provoking merit, fet a-work by a reprovable badness in himself.

Edm. How malicious is my fortune, that I muft repent to be juft? this is the letter, which he spoke of; which approves him an intelligent party to the advantages of France. Oh heavens! that this treafon were not; or not I the detector!

Corn. Go with me to the Dutchefs.

Edm. If the matter of this paper be certain, you have mighty business in hand.

Corn. True or falfe, it hath made thee Earl of Glofter: feek out where thy father is, that he may be ready for our Apprehenfion.

Edm. If I find him comforting the King, it will fluff his suspicion more fully.-[afide.] I will persevere in my courfe of loyalty, though the conflict be fore between that and my blood.

Corn. I will lay truft upon thee; and thou fhalt find a dearer father in my love.

[Exeunt.

SCENE

Gle.

H

SCENE IX.

A Chamber, in a Farm-house.

Enter Kent and Glo'fter.

ERE 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.

:

[Exit. Kent. All the power of his wits has given way to his impatience the Gods reward your kindness!

Enter Lear, Edgar, and Fool.

Edg. Fraterreto calls me, and tells me, Nero is an angler in the lake of darkness: pray innocent, and beware the foul fiend.

Fool. Pr'ythee, 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 fon for he's a mad yeoman, that fees his fon a gentleman before him.

Lear. To have a thousand with red burning fpits Come hizzing in upon 'em

Edg. The foul fiend bites my back.

Fool. He's mad that trufts in the tameness of a wolf, the heels of a horse, the love of a boy, or the oath of a whore.

Lear. It fhall be done, I will arraign 'em ftrait. Come, fit thou here, moft learned jufticer; Thou fapient Sir, fit bere-now, ye fhe-foxes!Edg. Look, where she stands and glares. Wanteft thou eyes

At trial, Madam?

Come o'er the Broom, Befly, to me.

Fool. Her Boat hath a Leak, and he must not speak,
Why he dares not come over to thee.

Edg.

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? ftand you not fo amaz'd; Will you lie down, and reft upon the Cufhions?

Lear. I'll fee their trial first, bring me in the evidence.

Thou robed man of juftice, take thy place;

And thou his yoke-fellow of equity,

[too.

Bench by his fide. You are o' th' commiflion, fit you

Edg. Let us deal justly.

Sleepest, or wakeft thou, jolly Shepherd?

Thy Sheep be in the Corn;

And for one Blaft of thy minikin Mouth,
Thy Sheep fhall take no Harm.

Purre, the Cat, is grey.

Lear. Arraign her firft, 'tis Gonerill. I here take my Oath before this honourable Affembly, fhe kick'd the poor King her Father.

Fool. Come hither, Mistress, is your name Gonerill? Lear. She cannot deny it.

Fool. Cry you mercy, I took you for a Joint-ftool. Lear. And here's another, whose warpt Looks proclaim

What ftore her Heart is made of. Stop her there; Arms, arms, fword, fire,-Corruption in the place! Falfe jufticer, why haft thou let her 'scape?

Edg. Blefs thy five wits.

Kent. O pity! Sir, where is the patience now,

That you fo oft have boafted to retain?

Edg. My tears begin to take his part so much,

They mar my counterfeiting.

Lear. The little dogs and all,

[Afide.

Tray, Blanch, and Sweet-heart, fee, they bark at me— Edg. Tom Will throw his head at them; avaunt,

you curs!

Be