Muff be their school-mafters: fhut up your doors;
He is attended with a defp'rate train;

And what they may incense him to, being apt
To have his ear abus'd, wisdom bids fear.

Corn. Shut up your doors, my lord, 'tis a wild night. My Regan counfels well: come out o' th' ftorm.

[Exeunt.

SCENE, a Heath.

A ftorm is heard, with thunder and lightning. Enter Kent, and a Gentleman, feverally.

W

KENT.

HO's there, befides foul weather?

Gent. One minded like the weather, moft unquietly.

Kent. I know you; where's the King?

Gent. Contending with the fretful elements; Bids the wind blow the earth into the fea;

Or fwell the curled waters 'bove the main,

That things might change, or cease: tears his white hair;
(Which the impetuous blafts with eyelefs rage
Catch in their fury, and make nothing of.)
Strives in his little World of Man t' outfcorn
The to-and-fro-conflicting Wind and Rain.

This night, wherein the cub-drawn bear would couch,
The lion, and the belly-pinched wolf

Keep their furr dry; unbonnetted he runs,

And bids what will, take all.

Kent. But who is with him?

Gent. None but the Fool, who labours to out-jeft His heart-ftruck injuries.

Kent. Sir, I do know you,

And dare, upon the warrant of my note,

Commend a dear thing to you. There's divifion

Although as yet the face of it is cover'd

With mutual cunning) 'twixt Albany and Cornwall:
Who have (as who have not, whom their great stars (13)
Throne and fet high?) fervants, who feem no lefs;
Which are to France the fpies and speculations
Intelligent of our ftate. What hath been seen,
Either in fnuffs and packings of the Dukes;
Or the hard rein, which both of them have borne
Against the old kind king; or fomething deeper,
(Whereof, perchance, these are but furnishings)
But true it is, from France there comes a power
Into this scatter'd kingdom; who already,
Wife in our negligence, have fecret fea
In fome of our beft ports, and are at point
To show their open banner
Now to you,
credit you Idare build fo far
To make your speed to Dover, you shall find
Some that will thank you, making just report
Of how unnatural and bemadding forrow
The King hath caufe to plain.

If on my

I am a gentleman of blood and breeding,
And from fome knowledge and affurance of
Offer this office.

Gent. I'll talk further with you.

Kent. No, do not:

you,

For confirmation that I am much more
Than my out-wall, open this purfe and take
What it contains. If you fhall fee Cordelia,
(As, fear not, but you fhall) fhew her that Ring,
And she will tell you who this fellow is,

That yet you do not know. Fie on this ftorm!
I will go feek the King.

(13) Who have, as who ́have net,' - The eight fubfequer Verfes were degraded by Mr. Pope, as unintelligible, and to no purpose. For my part, I fee nothing in them but what is very eafie to be understood; and the Lines feem abfolutely neceffary to clear up the Motives, upon which France prepar'd his Invasion: nor without them is the Senfe of the Context complear.

C 3

Gent

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 feverally.

Storm fill. Enter Lear and Fool.

Lear. Blow winds, and crack your cheeks; rage, blow! You cataracts, and hurricanoes, fpout

'Till you have drencht our steeples, drown'd the cocks t You fulph'rous and thought-executing fires, Vaunt-couriers of oak-cleaving thunder-bolts,

Singe my white head. And thou all-shaking thunder, Strike flat the thick rotundity o' th' world;

Crack nature's mould, all germins fpill at once (14) That make ingrateful man.

Fool. O nuncle, court-holy-water in a dry houfe is better than the rain-waters out o' door. Good nuncle, in, and ask thy daughters bleffing: here's a night, that pities neither wife men nor fools.

Lear. Rumble thy belly full, fpit fire, spout 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 fubfcription. 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 Adjective, germanus ;) a Word more than once used by our Author, tho always falfe fpelt by his Editors. But the Poer means here, "Crack Nature's Mould, and fpill all the Seeds of Matter, that "are hoarded within it." To retrieve which Sense, we must write Germ ins; (a Subftantive deriv'd from Germen, moeg: as the old Gloffaries expound it ;) And to put this Emendation beyond all Doubt, I'll produce one Paffage, where our Author not only uses the fame Thought again, but the Word that afcertains my Explication. In Winter's Tale ;

Let Nature crush the Sides o' th' Earth together,
And marr the Seeds within.

Your

Your horrible pleasure ; here I ftand, your flave;
A poor, infirm, weak, and defpis'd old man!
But yet I call you fervile minifters,
That have with two pernicious daughters join'd
Your high-engender'd battles, 'gainst a head
So old and white as this. Oh! oh! 'tis foul.
Fool. He that has a house to put's head in,
good head-piece :

has a

The codpiece that will house, before the head has any, The head and he shall lowfe; fo beggars marry many. That man that makes his toe, what he his heart should make,

Shall of a corn cry woe, and turn his fleep to wake. For there was never yet fair woman, but she made mouths in a glass.

To them, Enter Kent.

Lear. No, I will be the pattern of all patience, I will fay nothing.

Kent: Who's there?

Fool. Marry here's grace, and a cod-piece, that's a wife man and a fool.

Kent. Alas, Sir, are you here? things, that love night, Love not fuch nights as these : the wrathful skies Gallow the very wand'rers of the dark,

And make them keep their Caves: fince I was man,
Such fheets of fire, fuch burfts 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 undivulged crimes,

Unwhipt of juftice. Hide thee, thou bloody hand,
Thou Perjure, and thou Simular of virtue,
That art incestuous: caitiff, fhake to pieces,
That under covert and convenient feeming,

Haft practis'd on man's life! Clofe pent-up guilts,
Rive your concealing continents, and ask.

C 4

Thefe

Thefe dreadful fummoners grace. I am a man,
More finn'd againft, than finning.

Kent. Alack, bare-headed?

Gracious my lord, hard by here is a hovel;
Some friendship will it lend you 'gainst the tempeft,
Repose you there, while I to this hard houfe
(More hard than is the ftone whereof 'tis rais'd;
Which even but now, demanding after

you,

Deny'd me to come in) return, and force
Their fcanted courtefie.

Lear. My wits begin to turn.

Come on, my boy. How doft, my boy? art cold?
I'm cold my felf. Where is the ftraw, my fellow ?
The art of our neceffities is ftrange,

That can make vile things precious. Come, your hovel;
Poor fool and knave, I've one part in my heart,
That's forry yet for thee.

Feol. He that has an a little tynie wit,

With beigh ho, the wind and the rain;
Muft make content with his fortunes fit,
Though the rain it raineth every day.

Lear. True, my good boy: come, bring us to this hovel.

Fool. 'Tis a brave night to cool a curtezan.
I'll speak a prophecy, or ere I go;

When priests are more in words than matter,
When brewers marr their malt with water;
When nobles are their tailors' tutors;
No hereticks burn'd, but wenches' fuitors;
When every cafe in law is right,

No 'Squire in debt, ner no poor Knight;
When flanders do not live in tongues,
And cut-purfes come not to throngs;
When ufurers tell their gold i' th' field,
And bawds and whores do churches build:
Then fhall the realm of Albion

Come to great confufion :

Then comes the time, who lives to feet,
That Going fhall be us'd with feet.

[Exit.