Imatges de pàgina
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They could not, would not do't; 'tis worfe than murder,

To do upon refpect fuch violent outrage:

Refolve me, with all modest hafte, which way

Thou might'ft deferve, or they impose, this ufage,
Coming from us.

Kent.

My lord, when at their home
I did commend your highness' letters to them,
Ere I was rifen from the place that show'd
My duty kneeling, came there a reeking post,
Stew'd in his hafte, half breathlefs, panting forth
From Goneril his miftrefs, falutations;
Deliver❜d letters, fpite of intermission,

Which presently they read: on whose contents,
They fummon'd up their meiny, straight took horse;
Commanded me to follow, and attend

The leisure of their anfwer; gave me cold looks:
And meeting here the other messenger,

Whose welcome, I perceiv'd, had poifon'd mine,
(Being the very fellow that of late

Display'd fo faucily against your highness,)
Having more man than wit about me, drew;
He rais'd the house with loud and coward cries:

Your fon and daughter found this trespass worth
The fhame which here it fuffers.

Fool. Winter's not gone yet if the wild geefe fly that way.
Fathers, that wear rags,

Do make their children blind;

But fathers, that bear bags,

Shall fee their children kind.

Fortune, that arrant whore,

Ne'er turns the key to the poor.→

But, for all this, thou fhalt have as many dolours for thy daughters, as thou can't tell in a year.

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

Hyfteric a

Hyflerica paffio! down, thou climbing forrow,

Thy element's below!-Where is this daughter?
Kent. With the earl, fir, 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 queftion, thou hadft well deferved it.

Kent. Why, fool?

Fool. We'll fet thee to fchool to an ant, to teach thee there's no labouring in the winter. All that follow their nofes 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, left it break thy neck with following it; but the great one that goes up the hill, let him draw thee after. When a wife man gives thee better counsel, give me mine again: I would have none but knaves follow it, fince a fool gives it. That, fir, which serves and feeks for gain,

And follows but for form,

Will pack, when it begins to rain,

And leave thee in the ftorm.

But I will tarry; the fool will stay,

And let the wife 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 are fick? they are

weary?

They

They have travell'd hard to-night? Mere fetches;
The images of revolt and flying off!

Fetch me a better answer.

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You know the fiery quality of the duke:
How unremoveable and fix'd he is

In his own course.

Lear. Vengeance! plague! death! confufion!-
Fiery? what quality? Why, Glofter, Glofter,

I'd speak with the duke of Cornwall, and his wife.
Glo. Well, my good lord, I have inform'd them fo.
Lear. Inform'd them! Doft 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 fervice :
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 opprefs'd, commands the mind
To fuffer with the body: I'll forbear;

And am fallen out with my more headier will,
To take the indifpos'd and fickly fit

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

[looking on KENT.

Should he fit here? This act perfuades me,
That this remotion of the duke and her

Is practice only. Give me my fervant forth:

Go, tell the duke and his 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.

Glo.

Glo. I'd have all well betwixt you.

[Exit.

Lear. O me, my heart, my rifing heart!-but, down. Fool. Cry to it, nuncle, as the cockney did to the eels, when the put them i' the paste alive; the rapp'd 'em o' the coxcombs with a stick, and cry'd, Down, wantons, down: 'Twas her brother, that, in pure kindness to his horse, butter'd his hay.

Enter CORNWALL, REGAN, GLOSTER, and Servants.

Lear. Good morrow to you both.

Corn.

Hail to your grace!

[KENT is fet at liberty.

Reg. I am glad to see your highness. Lear. Regan, I think you are; I know what reafon I have to think so: if thou should'st not be glad, I would divorce me from thy mother's tomb, Sepulch'ring an adultrefs.-O, are you free? Some other time for that.-Beloved Regan, Thy fifter's naught: O Regan, fhe hath tied Sharp-tooth'd unkindnefs, like a vulture, here,

[to KENT.

[points to his heart.

I can scarce speak to thee; thou❜lt not believe,
Of how deprav'd a quality-O Regan!
Reg. I pray you, fir, take patience; I have hope,
You lefs know how to value her desert,

Than the to scant her duty.

Lear.

Say, how is that?

Reg. I cannot think, my fifter in the least
Would fail her obligation: If, fir, perchance,
She have restrain'd the riots of your followers,
'Tis on fuch ground, and to fuch wholesome end,
As clears her from all blame.

Lear. My curfes on her!

Reg.

O, fir, you are old;

Nature

Nature in you ftands on the very verge

Of her confine: you should be rul'd, and led
By fome difcretion, that discerns your ftate
Better than you yourself: Therefore, I pray you,
That to our fifter you do make return;

Say, you have wrong'd her, fir.

Lear.

Afk her forgiveness ?

Do you but mark how this becomes the house:
Dear daughter, I confess that I am old;

Age is unneceffary: on my knees I beg,

[kneeling,

That you'll vouchsafe me raiment, bed, and food.
Reg. Good fir, no more; these are unfightly tricks:

Return you

Lear.

to my

fifter.

Never, Regan:

She hath abated me of half my train;

Look'd black upon me: ftruck me with her tongue,
Moft ferpent-like, upon the

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heart: very

All the stor'd vengeances of heaven fall

On her ingrateful top! Strike her young bones,
You taking airs, with lamenefs!

Corn.

Fie, fie, fie!

Lear. You nimble lightnings, dart your blinding flames Into her scornful eyes! Infect her beauty,

You fen-fuck'd fogs, drawn by the powerful fun,
To fall and blast her pride!

O the bleft gods!

Reg.
So will you with on me, when the rash mood 's on.
Lear. No, Regan, thou shalt never have my curse;
Thy tender-hefted nature thall not give

Thee o'er to harshness; her eyes are fierce, but thine
Do comfort, and not burn: 'Tis not in thee

To grudge my pleasures, to cut off my train,
To bandy hafty words, to fcant my fizes,

And, in conclufion, to oppose the bolt

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