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Must be their school-masters : shut up your doors ;
Corn. Shut up your doors, my lord, 'tis a wild night. My Regan counsels well : come out o'th' storm.
А ст III.
Aftorm is heard, with thunder and lightning. Enter
Kent. But who is with him ?
Gent. None but the Fool, who labours to out-jest
Kent, Sir, I do know you,
Now to you,
( Although as yet the face of it is cover'd
Gent. I'll talk further with you.
Kent. No, do not:
(13) Who have, as who have net, - | The eight subsequem Verres were degraded by Mr. Pope, as unintelligible, and to no purpose. For my part, I see nothing in them but what is very easie to be understood; and the Lines soem absolutely necessary to clear up the Motives, upon which France prepar'd his lovasion : gor without them is the sense of the Context compleat,
Gent. Give me your hand, have you no more to say?
Kent. Few words, but, to effect, more than all yet ; That, when we have found the King, (in which you take That way, I this :) he that firft lights on him, Halloo the other.
[Exeunt severally. Storm fill. Enter Lear and Fool. Lear. Blow winds, and crack your cheeks; rage, blow! You cataracts, and hurricanoes, spout 'Till you have drenchtour steeples, drown'd the cocks ! You fulph'rous and thought-executing fires, Vaunt-couriers of oak-cleaving thunder-bolts, Singe my white head. And thou all-shaking thunder, Strike fat the thick rotundity o'th'world ; Crack nature's mould, all germins spill at once (14) That make ingrateful man.
Fool. O nuncle, court-holy-water in a dry house is better than the rain-waters out o' door. Good nuncle, in, and ask thy daughters blessing : here's a night, thas pities neither wise men nor fools.
Lear. Rumble thy belly full, spit fire, fpout rain; Nor rain, wind, thunder, fire, are my daughters ; I tax not you, you elements, with unkindness ; I never gave you kingdom, call’d you children ; You owe me no subscription. Then let fall
(14). Crack Natures Mould, all Germains spill at once.) Thys all the Editions have given us this Passage, and Mr. Pope has explain'd Germains, to mean relations, or kindred Elements. Then it must have been germanes (from the Latin Adjeđive, germanus ;) a Word more than once used by our Author, tho always false fpelt by his Editors. But the Poer means here, “ Crack Nature's Mould, and spill all the Seeds of Matter, that e are hoarded within it." To retrieve which Sense, we must write Germ ins ; (a Substantive deriv'd from Germen, omeg: as the old Gloffaries expound it ;) And to put this Emendation beyond all Doubt, l'll produce one Passage, where our Author not only ufes the fame Thought again, but che Word that af, certains my Explication. In Winter's Tale;
Let Nature crujh the sides o'rb' Earth together,
Your horrible pleasure ; here I stand, your slave ;
Fool. He that has a house to put's head in, has a
make, Shall of a corn cry woe, and turn his sleep to wake. For there was never yet fair woman, but she made mouths in a glass.
To them, Enter Kent.
Kent: Who's there?
Fool. Marry here's grace, and a cod-piece, that's a wise man and a fool.
Kent. Alas, Sir, are you here? things, that love night, Love not such nights as these : the wrathful skies Gallow the very wand'rers of the dark, And make them keep their Caves : since I was man, Such sheets of fire, such bursts of horrid thunder, Such groans of roaring wind and rain, I never Remember to have heard. Man's nature cannot carry Th'affliction, nor the force.
Lear. Let the great Gods, That keep this dreadful pudder o'er our heads, Find out their enemies now. Tremble, thou wretch, That haft within thee undivalged crimes, Unwhipt of justice. Hide thee, thou bloody hand, Thou Perjure, and thou Simular of virtue, That art incestuous : caitiff, shake to pieces, That under coveșt and convenient seeming, Haft practis'd on man's life! -- Close pent-up guilts, Rive your concealing continents, and ask
These dreadful summoners grace.
I am a man, More finn'd against, than finning.
Kent. Alack, bare-headed ?
Lear. My wits begin to turn.
self. Where is the straw, my fellow ?
With heigh ho, the wind and the rain ;
Though the rain it raineth every day. Lear. True, my good boy: come, bring us to this hovel.
case in law is right,