I will preserve my felf: and am bethought Brought near to beaft: my face I'll grime with filth; [Exit. SCENE changes, again, to the Earl of Glo'fter's Castle. Enter Lear, Fool, and Gentleman. Lear. T IS ftrange, that they should so depart from home, And not fend back my messenger. Gent. As I learn'd, The night before, there was no purpose in them Kent. Hail to thee, noble master! Lear. Ha! mak'ft thou thy fhame thy pastime? Fool. Ha, ha, he wears cruel garters; horses are ty❜d by the heads, dogs and bears by th' neck, monkeys by th' loins, and men by th' legs; when a man is over-lufty at legs, then he wears wooden nether stocks. Lear. What's he, that hath so much thy Place mistook, To fet thee here ? Kent. It is both he and she, Your fon and daughter. Lear. No. Kent Kent. Yes. Lear. No, I fay. Kent. I fay, yea. Lear. By Jupiter, I swear, no. Lear. They durft not do't. They could not, would not do't; 'tis worfe than murther, To do upon refpe&t fuch violent outrage: Refolve me with all modest hafte, which way Thou might'it deserve, or they impose this ufage, Kent. My lord, when at their home I did commend your Highness' letters to them, Which presently they read: on whose contents The leifure of their answer; gave me cold looks; Whose welcome, I perceiv'd, had poifon'd mine; Difplay'd fo faucily against your Highness,) Fool. Winter's not gone yet, if the wild geefe fly that way. Fathers, that wear rags, Do make their children blind; Ne'er turns the key to th' poor. But, for all this, thou fhalt have as many dolours from Thy dear daughters, as thou canft tell in a year. Lear Lear. Oh, how this mother fwells up tow'rd my heart! Hyfterica paffio, down, thou climbing forrow, Thy element's below; where is this daughter? . Kent. With the Earl, Sir, here within. Lear. Follow me not; ftay here. Gen. Made you no more offence, But what you speak of? Kent. None.. [Exit. How chance the King comes with fo fmall a number? Fool. An thou hadst been fet i' th' ftocks for that queftion, thou'dft well deferved it. Kent. Why, fool? Fool. We'll fet thee to school to an Ant, to teach thee there's no lab'ring i' th' winter. All, that follow their nofes are led by their eyes, but blind men; and there's not a nofe among twenty, but can smell him that's stinking let go thy hold, when a great wheel runs down a hill, left it break thy neck with following it; but the great one that goes upward, let him draw thee after. When a wife man gives thee better counfel, give me mine again; I would have none but knaves follow it, fince a fool gives it. That Sir, which ferves for gain, Will pack, when it begins to rain, But I will tarry, the fool will stay, The knave turns fool, that runs away; The fool no knave, perdy. Kent. Where learn'd you this, fool? Enter Lear and Glo'fter. Lear. Deny to speak with me? they're fick, they're weary, They have travell'd all the night? mere fetches, The images of revolt and flying off. Bring me a better answer Glo. My dear lord, You You know the fiery quality of the Duke: In his own course. Lear. Vengeance! plague! death! confufion! --Fiery? what fiery quality? why, Glofter, I'd fpeak with th' Duke of Cornwall, and his wife. Glo. Well, my good lord, I have inform'd them fo.' Lear. Inform'd them? dost thou understand me, man? Glo. Ay, my good lord? Lear. The King would fpeak with Cornwall, the dear father Wou'd with his daughter fpeak; commands her fervice: Are they inform'd of this? - my breath and blood! Fiery? the fiery duke? tell the hot Duke, that No, but not yet; may be, he is not well ;] Whereto our health is bound; we're not our felves, And am fall'n out with my more headier will, For the found man.- Death on my state! but wherefore That this remotion of the Duke and her Is practice only. Give me my fervant forth; Go, tell the Duke and's wife, I'd speak with them: Now, prefently, - bid them come forth and hear me, Or at their chamber-door I'll beat the drum, 'Till it cry, fleep to death. [Exit. Glo. I would have all well betwixt you. Lear. Oh me, my heart! my rifing heart! but down. Fool. Cry to it, nuncle, as the cockney did to the Eels, when she put them i' th' Pafty alive; fhe rapt 'em o'th' coxcombs with a stick, and cry'd, down wantons, down; 'Twas her brother, that in pure kindness to his horfe butter'd his hay. Enter Cornwall, Regan, Glo'fter, and Servants. Lear. Good morrow to you both. [Kent is fet at liberty. Reg. Reg. I am glad to fee your Highness. Lear. Regan, I think, you are; I know, what reason I have to think fo; if thou wert not glad, I would divorce me from thy mother's tomb, Sepulchring an adult refs. O, are you free? Some other time for that. Beloved Regan, Thy fifter's naught: oh Regan, fhe hath tied Sharp-tooth'd unkindness, like a vulture here; [To Kent. [Points to his heart. I can scarce fpeak to thee; thou'lt not believe, With how deprav'd a quality oh Regan! Reg. I pray you, Sir, take patience; I have Hope, You lefs know how to value her defert, Than fhe to scant her duty. Lear. Say? How is that? Reg. I cannot think, my fifter in the leaft Lear. My curfes on her!. Reg. O Sir, you are old, 1 Nature in you stands on the very verge Of her confine; you fhould be rul'd and led Lear. Ask her forgiveness? Do you but mark, how this becomes the Ufe? (9) (9) Do you but mark how this becomes the House?] This Phrase to me is unintelligible, and seems to fay nothing to the purpofe: Neither can it mean, as I conceive, how this becomes the Order of Families. Lear would certainly intend to reply, how does asking my Daughters Forgiveness become me as a Father, and agree with common Fashion, the eftablifh'd Rule and Custom of Nature? It feems, therefore, no Doubt to me, but the Poet wrote, as I have alter'd the Text. And that ShakeSpeare employs Vfe in this Signification, is too obvious to want a Proof. Dear |