displeasure, neither to speak of him, entreat for him, nor any way sustain him.

Edm. Most savage, and unnatural!

Glo. Go to; say you nothing: There is division between the dukes; and a worse matter than that: I have received a letter this night ;-'tis dangerous to be spoken ;-I have locked the letter in my closet: these injuries the king now bears will be revenged at home; there is part of a power already footed*: we must incline to the king. I will seek him, and privily relieve him: go you, and maintain talk with the duke, that my charity be not of him perceived: if he ask for me, I am ill, and gone to bed. If I die for it, as no less is threaten'd me, the king my old master must be reliev'd. There is some strange thing toward, Edmund; pray you, be careful.

[Exit.

Edm. This courtesy, forbid thee, shall the duke Instantly know; and of that letter too :This seems a fair deserving, and must draw me That which my father loses; no less than all : The younger rises, when the old doth fall.

[Exit.

SCENE IV.

A part of the heath, with a hovel.

Enter Lear, Kent, and Fool.

Kent. Here is the place, my lord; good my lord,

enter:

The tyranny of the open night's too rough

For nature to endure.

Lear.

Let me alone.

Kent. Good my lord, enter here.

Lear.

[Storm still.

Wilt break my heart?

Kent. I'd rather break mine own: Good my lord,

enter.

* A force already landed.

Lear. Thou think'st 'tis much, that this conten

tious storm

Invades us to the skin: so 'tis to thee;
But where the greater malady is fix'd,

The lesser is scarce felt. Thou’dst shun a bear:
But if thy flight lay toward the raging sea,
Thou'dst meet the bear i'the mouth. When the
mind's free,

The body's delicate: the tempest in my mind
Doth from my senses take all feeling else,
Save what beats there.-Filial ingratitude!
Is it not as this mouth should tear this hand,
For lifting food to't?—But I will punish home :-
No, I will weep no more.—In such a night
To shut me out!-Pour on; I will endure :
In such a night as this! O Regan, Goneril!—
Your old kind father, whose frank heart gave all,—
O, that way madness lies; let me shun that;
No more of that,-

Kent.

Good my lord, enter here. Lear. Pr'ythee, go in thyself; seek thine own

ease;

This tempest will not give me leave to ponder
On things would hurt me more.-But I'll go in:
In, boy; go first.-[To the Fool.] You houseless
poverty,-

Nay; get thee in. I'll pray, and then I'll sleep.-
[Fool goes in.
Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are,
That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm,
How shall your houseless heads, and unfed sides,
Your loop'd and window'd raggedness, defend you
From seasons such as these? O, I have ta'en
Too little care of this! Take physick, pomp;
Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel;
That thou may'st shake the superflux to them,
And show the heavens more just.

Edg. [Within.] Fathom and half, fathom and half! Poor Tom!

[The Fool runs out from the hovel.

Fool. Come not in here, nuncle, here's a spirit. Help me, help me!

Kent. Give me thy hand.-Who's there?

Fool. A spirit, a spirit; he says his name's Poor Tom,

Kent. What art thou that dost grumble there i'the straw?

Come forth.

Enter Edgar, disguised as a madman. Edg. Away! the foul fiend follows me !Through the sharp hawthorn blows the cold wind.Humph! go to thy cold bed, and warm thee.

Lear. Hast thou given all to thy two daughters? And art thou come to this?

Edg. Who gives any thing to poor Tom? whom the foul fiend hath led through fire and through flame, through ford and whirlpool, over bog and quagmire; that hath laid knives under his pillow, and halters in his pew; set ratsbane by his porridge; made him proud of heart, to ride on a bay trottinghorse over four-inched bridges, to course his own shadow for a traitor:-Bless thy five wits! Tom's a-cold. O, do de, do de, do de.-Bless thee from whirlwinds, star-blasting, and taking*! Do poor Tom some charity, whom the foul fiend vexes : There could I have him now,-and there,-and there, and there again, and there.

Storm continues. Lear. What, have his daughters brought him to

this pass?

Could'st thou save nothing? Didst thou give them all?

Fool. Nay, he reserved a blanket, else we had been all shamed.

Lear. Now, all the plagues that in the pendulous air

Hang fated o'er men's faults, light on thy daughters! Kent. He hath no daughters, sir.

* To take is to blast, or strike with malignant influence.