Reg. This houfe is little; the old man and his people

Cannot be well beftowed.

Gon. 'Tis his own blame hath put himself from reft,

And must needs tafte his folly.

Reg. For his particular, I'll receive him gladly;

But not one follower,

Gon. So am I purpofed.

Where is my Lord of Glo'ster?

Enter GLO'STER.

Corn. Followed the old man forth;---he is returned.

Glo. The King is in high rage, and will I know not whither.

Corn. 'Tis beft to give him way, he leads himself.
Gon. My Lord, intreat him by no means to stay.
Glo. Alack, the night comes on, and the high
winds

Do forely ruffle: for many miles about
There's fcarce a bufh.

Reg. O, Sir, to wilful men,

The injuries that they themselves procure

Must be their school-masters: fhut up your doors;
He is attended with a desperate train;

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

Corn. Shut up your doors, my Lord, 'tis a wild

night:

My Regan counfels well: come out o'the storm.

[Exeunt

A Storm is heard with Thunder and Lightning. Exter KENT and a Gentleman, feverally.

ΚΕΝΤ.

Who's there, befides foul weather?

Gent. One minded like the weather, most 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 ceafe: tears his white (Which the impetuous blaits with eyelefs rage [hair, Catch in their fury, and make nothing of): Strives in his little world of man to outfcorn The to-and-fro-conflicting wind and rain.

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

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

Kent. But who is with him?

[couch,

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 covered

With mutual cunning) 'twixt Albany and Cornwall: Who have (as who have not, whom their great ftárs (25)

Throned and fet high?) fervants who feem no lefs;

(25) Who have as who have not,~] The eight fubfequent verfes were degraded by Mr Pope, as unintelligible, and to VOL. V.

Which are to France the spies and speculations
Intelligent of our ftate. What hath been feen,
Either in fnuffs and packings of the Duke's,

Or the hard rein, which both of them have 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 fcattered kingdom, who already,
Wife in our negligence, have fecret sea
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 shall 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 of you,
Offer this office.

Gent. I'll 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 fhall) fhew her that ring,
And fhe will tell you who this fellow is,
That yet you do not know. Fy on this storm!
I will go feek the King.

[fay? Gent. Give me your hand: have you no more to Kent. Few words, but to effect more than all yet; That, when we have found the King, (in which you take

no purpose. For my part, I fee nothing in them but what is very easy to be understood; and the lincs feem abfolutely neceffary to clear up the motives upon which France prepared his invafion: nor without them is the sense of the context compleat,

That way, I this) he that firft lights on him,
Hollow the other.

[Exeunt feverally.

Storm fill. Enter LBAR and Fool. Lear. Blow winds, and crack your cheeks; rage, You cataracts, and hurricanoes, spout [blow! 'Till you have drench'd our steeples, drowned the You fulph'rous and thought-executing fires, [cocks! Vaunt couriers of oak-cleaving thunder-bolts, Singe my white head. And thou all-fhaking thunder,. Strike flat the thick rotundity o' the world;.

Crack Nature's mould, all germins fpill at once (26). That make ungrateful man.

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

Lear. Rumble thy belly full, fpit fire, fpout rain;

(26) Crack Nature's mauld, all germains Spill at once.] Thus all the editions have given us this paffage, and Mr Pope has explained germain, to mean relations, ot kindred elements. Then it must have been germanes (from the Latin adjective, germanus ;) a word more than once ufed by our Airthor, though always falfe fpelt by his editors. So, in Hamlet;

The phrafe would be more germane to the matter, could carry cannon by our fides.

And fo in Othello;:

if we

You'll have your nephews neigh to you; you'll have courfers for coufins, and gennets for germanes.

But the Poet means here, Crack Nature's mould, and fpill all the feeds of matter that are hoarded within it. Toretrieve which fenfe, we must write germins; (a substantive derived from germen, wopd, as the old gloffaries expound it;) and fo we must again in Macbeth;

-Though the treasure

Of Nature's germins tumble ali together,,
Even till deftruction ficken.

And to put this emendation beyond all doubt, I'll produce one more paffage, where our Author not only ufes the fame

Nor rain, wind, thunder, fire, are my daughters;
I tax not you, you elements, with unkindness;
I never gave you kingdom, called you children;
You owe me no fubfcription. Then let fall
Your horrible pleasure ;---here I ftand, your flave;
A poor, infirm, weak and defpifed old man!
But yet I call you fervile ministers,

That have, with two pernicious daughters, joined
Your high-engendered battles 'gainit a head
So old and white as this. Oh! oh! tis foul.

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

The cod-piece that will house, before the head has

any,

The head and he fhall lowfe; fo beggars marry many. That 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 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 thefe: the wrathful fkics Gallow the very wanderers of the dark,

And make them keep their caves: fince I was man, Such theets of fire, fuch bursts of horrid thunder, Such groans of roaring wind and rain, I never

thought again, but the word that afcertains my explication. In Winter's Tale;

Let Nature crush the fides o' th' earth together,
And marr the jeeds within.