I will preserve my felf: and am bethought
To take the bafest and the poorest shape,
That ever Penury in contempt of man

Brought near to beaft: my face I'll grime with filth;
Blanket my loins; elfe all my hair in knots;
And with prefented nakedness out-face
The winds, and perfecutions of the sky.
The country gives me proof and prefident
Of bedlam beggars, who, with roaring voices,
Strike in their numb'd and mortify'd bare arms
Pins, wooden pricks, nails, fprigs of rosemary;
And with this horrible object, from low farms,
Poor pelting villages, fheep-coats and mills,
Sometimes with lunatick bans, fometimes with pray'rs,
Inforce their charity; poor Turlygood! poor Tom!
That's fomething yet: Edgar 1 nothing am.

[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
Of this remove.

Kent. Hail to thee, noble master!

Lear. Ha! mak'ft thou thy fhame thy pastime?
Kent. No, my lord.

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.
Kent. By Juno, I fwear, ay.

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,
Coming from us ?

Kent. My lord, when at their home

I did commend your Highness' letters to them,
Ere I was rifen from the place, that fhew'd
My duty kneeling, came a reeking Post,
Stew'd in his hafte, half breathlefs, panting forth
From Gonerill his mistress, falutation;
Deliver❜d letters fpight of intermiffion,

Which presently they read: on whose contents
They fummon'd up their meiny, ftrait took horse;
Commanded me to follow, and attend

The leifure of their answer; gave me cold looks;
And meeting here the other meffenger,

Whose welcome, I perceiv'd, had poifon'd mine;
(Being the very fellow, which of late

Difplay'd fo faucily against your Highness,)
Having more man than wit about me, I drew;
He rais'd the houfe with loud and coward cries:
Your fon and daughter found this trespass worth
The fhame which here it suffers.

Fool. Winter's not gone yet, if the wild geefe fly that

way.

Fathers, that wear rags,

Do make their children blind;
But fathers, that bear bags,
Shall fee their children kind.
Fortune, that arrant whore,

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,
And follows but for form,

Will pack, when it begins to rain,
And leave thee in the ftorm:

But I will tarry, the fool will stay,
And let the wife man fly :

The knave turns fool, that runs away;

The fool no knave, perdy.

Kent. Where learn'd you this, fool?
Fool. Not i' th' Stocks, 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:
How unremovable, and fixt he is

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 ;]
Infirmity doth ftill neglect all office,

Whereto our health is bound; we're not our felves,
When Nature, being oppreft, commands the mind
To fuffer with the body. I'll forbear;

And am fall'n out with my more headier will,
To take the indifpos'd and fickly fit

For the found man.- Death on my state! but wherefore
Should he fit here? this Act perfuades me,

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.
Corn. Hail to your Grace!

[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
Would fail her obligation. If, perchance,
She have reftrain'd the riots of your followers;
'Tis on fuch ground, and to fuch wholesom end,
As clears her from all blame.

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
By fome difcretion, that difcerns your_state
Better than you your Self: therefore, I pray you,
That to our fifter you do make return;
Say, you have wrong'd her, Sir.

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