To follow in a houfe, where twice fo many
Have a command to tend you?

Reg. What need one?

Lear. O, reafon not the need: our baseft beggars Are in the pooreft thing fuperfluous:

Allow not nature more than nature needs, Man's life is cheap as bealt's: thou art a lady; If only to go warm were gorgeous,

Why, nature needs not what thou gorgeous wear'ft; Which fcarcely keeps thee warm.-But, for true need-

You heavens, give me that patience, patience I need!
You fee me here, you gods; a poor old man;
As full of grief as age; wretched in both!
If it be you that ftir thefe daughters' hearts
Against their father, fool me not fo much
To bear it tamely; touch me with noble anger!
O, let no woman's weapons, water drops,
Stain my man's cheeks!--No, you unnatural hags,
I will have fuch revenges on you both,

That all the world fhall--I will do fuch things-
What they are, yet I know not; but they fhall be
The terrors of the earth. You think, I'll weep;
No, I'll not weep:-

I have full caufe of weeping; but this heart
Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws,
Or e'er I'll weep:-O, fool, I fhall go mad!

[Exeunt LEAR, GLOSTER, KENT, and Fool. Corn. Let us withdraw, 'twill be a storm.

[Storm and tempest heard. Reg. This houfe is little; the old man and his people Cannot be well beftow'd.

Gon. 'Tis his own blame; he hath put himself And muft needs tafte his folly.

[from reft,

Reg

Reg. For this particular, I'll receive him gladly, But not one follower.

Gon. So am I purpos'd.

Where is my lord of Glofter?

Re-enter GLOSTER.

Corn. Follow'd the old man forth:-he is return'd.
Glo. The king is in high rage.
Corn. Whither is he going?

Glo. He calls to horfe: but will I know not whither.
Corn. 'Tis best to give him way; he leads himself.
Gon. My lord, entreat him by no means to stay.
Glo. Alack, the night comes on, and the bleak
Do forely ruffle; for many miles about
There's fcarce a bush.

Reg. O, fir, to wilful men,

The injuries that they themselves procure,

[winds

Muft be their school-masters: Shut up your doors; He is attended with a defperate train;

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

Corn. Shut up your door, my lord; 'tis a wild night; My Regan councils well: come out o' the storm. [Exeunt:

ACT III.

SCENE I. A Heath.

A form is heard, with thunder and lightning. Enter KENT, and a Gentleman, meeting.

Kent.

WHO's there, befide foul weather?

Gent

Gent. One minded like the weather, most unquie
Kent. I know you: Where's the king?

[1 Gent. Contending with the fretful element : Bids the wind blow the earth into the fea, Or fwell the curled waters above the main, That things might change, or ceafe: tears h white hair;

Which the impetuous blafts, with eyelefs rage,
Catch in their fury, and make nothing of:
Strives in his little world of man to out-fcorn
The to-and-fro-conflicting wind and rain.
This night, wherein the cub-drawn bear wouldcouch
The lion and the belly-pinched wolf.

Keep their fur dry, unbonneted he runs,
And bids what will take all.

Kent. But who is with him?

Gent. None but the fool; who labours to out-jel 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 is divifion
Although as yet the face of it be cover'd

With mutual cunning, 'twixt Albany and Cornwall
Who have (as who have not, that their great star
Throne and fet high?) fervants, who feem no lefs;
Which are to France the fpies and fpeculations
Intelligent of our ftate; what hath been feen,
Either in fnuffs and packings of the dukes;
Or the hard rein which both of them hath borne
Against the old kind king; or fomething deeper,
Whereof, perchance, thefe 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 fee

In fome of our best ports, and are at point
To fhew their open banner-Now to you;
If on my credit you dare build fo far

To make your speed to Dover, you fhall find
Some that will thank you, making just report
Of how unnatural and bemadding forrow
The king hath caufe to plain.

I am a gentleman of blood and breeding,
And from fome knowledge and affurance offer
This office to you.]

Gent. I will talk further with you.

Kent. No, do not.

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 thall), fhew her this ring;
And the will tell you who your fellow is

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

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 your pain

That way; I'll this), he that first lights on him, Holla the other.

[Exeunt feverally

SCENE II. Another Part of the Heath.

Storm fill. Enter LEAR, and Fol.

Lear. Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! rage! You cataracts, and hurricanoes, fpout, [blow! you have drench'd our fteeples, drown'd the cocks!

Till

You

You fulphurous and thought-executing fires,
Vaunt-courtiers to oak-cleaving thunder-bolts,
Singe my whitehead! And thou, all-shaking thunder,
Strike flat the thick rotundity o' the world!
Crack nature's moulds; all germens spill at once,
That make ungrateful man!

Fool. O nuncle, court holy-water in a dry house is better than this rain-water out o' door. Good nuêcle, in, and afk thy daughter's bleffing; here's a night pities neither wife men nor fools.

Lear. Rumble thy belly full! Spit, 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; why then let fall
Your horrible pleasure; here I stand, your flave,
A poor, infirm, weak, and despis'd old man:—
But yet I call you fervile ministers,

That have with two pernicious daughters join'd
Your high-engender'd battles, 'gainst a head
So old and white as this. O! O! 'tis foul!

Fool. He that has a house to put's head in, has a good head-piece.

The cod-piece that will houfe,

Before the head has any:
The head and he fhall loufe ;-

So beggars marry many.

The man that makes his toe

What he his heart fhould make,

Shall of a corn cry, woe!

And turn his fleep to wake.

-for there was never yet fair woman, but fhe

made mouths in a glass.

Enter