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Poor pelting villages, sheep-coats and mills,
Enter Lear, Fool, and Gentleman. Lear. TIS ftrange, that they should so depart from
And not fend back my messenger. [home,
Kent. Hail to thee, noble master!
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 miftcok, To set thee here?
Kent. It is both he and the,
Lear. They durt not doit.
Kent. My lord, when at their home
Ere I was risen from the place, that shew'd
Fool. Winter's not gone yet,if the wild geese fly that way. Fathers, that wear rags,
Do make their children blind; But fathers, that bear bags,
Shall see their children kind. Fortune, that arrant whore, Ne'er turns the key to th' poor, But, for all this, thou shalt have as many dolours from Thy dear daughters, as thou canst tell in a year.
Lear. Oh, how this mother swells up tow'rd
Kent. With the Earl, Sir, here within,
[Expl. Gen. Made you no more offence, But what you speak of?
Kent. None; How chance the King comes with so small a number?
Fool. An thou hadft been set i'th' ftocks for that question, thou’dft well deserved it!
Kent. Why, fool?
Fool. We'll fer thee to school to an Ant, to teach thee there's no lab'ring i' th' winter. All, that follow
my heart !
their noses, are led by their eyes, but blind men; and
And follows but for form,
And leave thee in the storm :
And let the wise man fiy:
The fool no knave, perdy.
Enter Lear and Glo'fter.
Glo. My dear lord,
Lear. Vengeance! plague! death! confusion !
Glo. Well, my good lord, I have inform'd them fo.
[father Lear. The King would speak with Cornwall, the dear Wou'd with his daughter speak; commands her service: 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 ; 3
Infirmity doth still neglect all office,
Glo. I would have all well betwixt you. [Exit,
Fool. Cry to it, nuncle, as the cockney did to the Eels, when the put them i' th' Pafty alive; the rapt 'em o'th' coxcombs with a stick, and cry'd, down wantons, down; 'Twas her brother, that in pure kind. ness to his horse butter'd his hay.
Enter Cornwall, Regan, Glo'ster, and Servants.
[Points to his heart. I can scarce speak 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 less know how to value her deserto Than the go scant her duty.
Lear. Say? How is that?
Reg. I cannot think, my sister in the least Would fail her obligation. If, perchance, She have restrain'd the riots of
Lear. My curses on her !-
Lear. Ask her forgiveness?
Reg. Good Sir, no more; these are unfightly tricks: Return you to my fifter.
Lear. Never, Regan:
(18) Do you but mark bow this becomes the house?] This phrase is to me unintelligible, and seems to say nothing to the purpose: Nei. ther can it mean, as I conceive, how this becomes the order of families. Lear would certainly intend to reply, how does asking my daughter's forgiveness become me as a father, and agree with common fashion, the establish'd rule and custom of nature? And therefore it seems no doubt-to me, but the poet wrote, as I have alter'd the text. Let us examine, how he has express'd elsewhere upon this sentimento Alonso says, in the Tempeft;
But, oh, how oddly will it sound, that I
Must ask my child forgivenesst?
I kneel before thee, and unproperly
Between the child and parent. Now what is odd, and impropër, and mistaken, mit be concluded to be against rule and custom: And that Sbakespeare employs Use in this fignification, is too obvious to want a proof,