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 the poor.

But, for all this, thou shalt have as many dolours for thy daughters, as thou canst tell in a year.

Lear. O, how this mother swells up toward my heart!

Hysterica passio! down, thou climbing sorrow!
Thy element 's below.
Where is this daughter?

Kent. With the earl, Sir; here, within.

Lear.

Stay here.

Follow me not;

[Exit.

Gent. Made you no more offence than what you speak of?
Kent.

None.

How chance the king comes with so small a train?

Fool. An thou hadst been set i' the stocks for that question, thou hadst well deserved it.

Kent. Why, fool?

Fool. We'll set thee to school to an ant, to teach thee there 's no labouring i' the winter. All that follow their noses are led by their eyes, but blind men; and there's not a nose among twenty but can smell him that 's stinking, Let go thy hold, when a great wheel runs down a hill, lest it break thy neck with following it; but the great one that goes up the hill, let him draw thee after. When a wise man gives thee better counsel, give me mine again: I would have none but knaves follow it, since a fool gives it.

That Sir, which serves and seeks for gain,
And follows but for form,

Will pack when it begins to rain,
And leave thee in the storm.

But I will tarry; the fool will stay,
And let the wise man fly:

The knave turns fool that runs away,
The fool no knave, perdy.

Kent. Where learn'd you this, fool?
Fool. Not i' the stocks, fool.

Re-enter LEAR, with GLOSTER.

Lear. Deny to speak with me? They have travell'd hard to-night? The images of revolt and flying off. Fetch me a better answer.

Glo.

They are sick? they are weary?
Mere fetches,

My dear lord,

You know the fiery quality of the duke;
How unremovable and fix'd he is

In his own course.

Lear. Vengeance! plague! death! confusion!
Fiery? what quality? Why, Gloster, Gloster,
I 'd speak with the duke of Cornwall and his wife.

Glo. Well, my good lord, I have inform'd them so.
Lear. Inform'd them! Dost thou understand me, man?
Glo. Ay, my good lord.

Lear. The king would speak with Cornwall; the dear father

Would 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:

Infirmity doth still neglect all office,

Whereto our health is bound; we are not ourselves,
When nature, being oppress'd, commands the mind
To suffer with the body. I'll forbear;
And am fallen out with my more headier will,
To take the indispos'd and sickly fit

For the sound man. - Death on my state! wherefore

[Looking on KENT.

Should he sit here? This act persuades me,
That this remotion of the duke and her
Is practice only. Give me my servant forth.
Go, tell the duke and 's wife, I'd speak with them,
Now, presently: bid them come forth and hear me,

Or at their chamber door I 'll beat the drum,
Till it cry - "Sleep to death."

[Exit.

Glo. I would have all well betwixt you. Lear. O me! my heart, my rising heart! - but, down. Fool. Cry to it, nuncle, as the cockney did to the eels, when she put them i' the paste alive; she rapp'd 'em o' the coxcombs with a stick, and cried, "Down, wantons, down:" 't was her brother, that in pure kindness to his horse buttered his hay.

Enter CORNWALL, REGAN, GLOSTER, and Servants.
Lear. Good morrow to you both.
Corn.

Hail to your grace!
[KENT is set at liberty.

Reg. I am glad to see your highness.
Lear. Regan, I think you are; I know what reason

I have to think so: if thou shouldst not be glad,
I would divorce me from thy mother's tomb,
Sepulchring an adult'ress.
O! are you free?
Some other time for that. - Beloved Regan,
Thy sister 's naught: O Regan! she hath tied
Sharp-tooth'd unkindness, like a vulture, here.

[TO KENT.

[Points to his Heart.

I can scarce speak to thee: thou 'lt not believe,
With how deprav'd a quality - O Regan!

Reg. I pray you, Sir, take patience. I have hope,
You less know how to value her desert,
Than she to scant her duty.

Lear.

Say, how is that?

Reg. I cannot think, my sister in the least
Would fail her obligation: if, Sir, perchance,
She have restrain'd the riots of your followers,
'T is on such ground, and to such wholesome end,
As clears her from all blame.

Lear. My curses on her!
Reg.

O, Sir! you are old;

Nature in you stands on the very verge
Of her contine: you should be rul'd, and led

By some discretion, that discerns your state

Better than you yourself. Therefore, I pray you,

That to our sister you do make return :

Say, you have wrong'd her, Sir.

Lear.

1

Ask her forgiveness?

[Kneeling

Do you but mark how this becomes the house:

"Dear daughter, I confess that I am old;

Age is unnecessary: on my knees I beg,

That you 'll vouchsafe me raiment, bed, and food."

Reg. Good Sir, no more: these are unsightly tricks.

She hath abated me of half my train;

Look'd black upon me; struck me with her tongue,

Most serpent-like, upon the very heart.

All the stor'd vengeances of heaven fall

On her ungrateful top! Strike her young bones,

You taking airs, with lameness!

Corn.

Fie, Sir, fie!

Lear. You nimble lightnings, dart your blinding flames

Into her scornful eyes! Infect her beauty,

You fen-suck'd fogs, drawn by the powerful sun,

To fall and blast her pride!

So will you wish on me, when the rash mood is on.

Lear. No, Regan; thou shalt never have my curse:

Thy tender-hefted nature shall not give

Thee o'er to harshness: her eyes are ficrce; but thine
Do comfort, and not burn. 'T is not in thee

To grudge my pleasures, to cut off iny train,
To bandy hasty words, to scant my sizes,
And, in conclusion, to oppose the bolt
Against my coming in: thou better know'st
The offices of nature, bond of childhood,
Effects of courtesy, dues of gratitude;
Thy half o' the kingdom hast thou not forgot,
Wherein I thee endow'd.

Reg.

Good Sir, to the purpose.

Lear. Who put my man i' the stocks?
Corn.

Enter OSWALD.

[Tucket within.

What trumpet 's that?

Reg. I know't, my sister's: this approves her letter,

That she would soon be here. Is your lady come?

Lear. This is a slave, whose easy-borrow'd pride

Dwells in the fickle grace of her he follows.

Out, varlet, from my sight!
Corn.

Lear. Who stock'd my

Thou didst not know on 't.

What means your grace? servant? Regan, I have good hope Who comes here? O heavens!

Enter GONERIL.

If you do love old men, if your sweet sway

Allow obedience, if yourselves are old,

Make it your cause; send down, and take my part!

Art not asham'd to look upon this beard?

O Regan! wilt thou take her by the hand?

[To GONERIL.

Gon. Why not by the hand, Sir? How have I offended?

All's not offence, that indiscretion finds,

And dotage terms so.

Lear.

O sides! you are too tough:

Will you yet hold? - How came my man i' the stocks?
Corn. I set him there, Sir; but his own disorders

Deserv'd much less advancement.

Lear.

You! did you?

Reg. I pray you, father, being weak, seem so.
If, till the expiration of your month,
You will return and sojourn with my sister,
Dismissing half your train, come then to me:
I am now from home, and out of that provision
Which shall be needful for your entertainment.

Lear. Return to her? and fifty men dismiss'd?
No, rather I abjure all roofs, and choose
To wage against the enmity o' the air;

To be a comrade with the wolf and owl.