But misery;-I know, 'tis from Cordelia;
Who hath most fortunately been inform'd
Of my obscured course; and shall find time
From this enormous state,-seeking to give
Losses their remedies :-All weary and o'erwatch'd,
Take vantage, heavy eyes, not to behold
This shameful lodging.

Fortune, good night; smile once more; turn thy wheel!

[He Sleeps.

SCENE 111. A Part of the Heath.

Enter EDGAR.

Edg. I heard myself proclaim'd;
And, by the happy hollow of a tree,
Escap'd the hunt. No port is free; no place,
That guard, and most unusual vigilance,
Does not attend my taking. While I may scape,
I will preserve myself: and am bethought
To take the basest and most poorest shape,
That ever penury, in contempt of man,

Brought near to beast: my face I'll grime with filth;
Blanket my loins; elf all my hair in knots;
And with presented nakedness outface
The winds, and persecutions of the sky.
The country gives me proof and precedent
Of Bedlam beggars, who, with roaring voices,
Strike in their numb'd and mortified bare arms
Pins, wooden pricks, nails, sprigs of rosemary;
And with this horrible object, from low farms,
Poor pelting villages, sheep-cotes, and mills,
Sometime with lunatic bans, sometime with prayers,
Enforce their charity.-Poor Turlygood! poor Tom!
That's something yet;-Edgar I nothing am.

SCENE IV. Before GLOSTER's Castle.
Enter LEAR, Fool, and Gentleman.

[Exit.

Lear. "Tis strange, that they should so depart from home,

And not send back my messenger.

Gent.

As I learn'd,

The night before there was no purpose in them

Of this remove.

Kent.

Lear. How!

Hail to thee, noble master!

Mak'st thou this shame thy pastime?

Kent. No, my lord. Fool. Ha, ha; look! he wears cruel garters! Horses are tied by the heads; dogs, and bears, by the neck; monkeys by the loins; and men by the legs: when a man is over-lusty at legs, then he wears wooden nether stocks.

Lear. What's he, that hath so much thy place mistook To set thee here? It is both he and she,

Kent.

Your son and daughter.

Lear. No.

Kent. Yes.

Lear. No, I say.

Kent. I say, yea.

Lear. No, no; they would not.

Kent. Yes, they have.

Lear. By Jupiter, I swear, no.

Kent. By Juno, I swear, ay.

Lear. They durst not do't;

They could not, would not do't; 'tis worse than murder,
To do upon respect such violent outrage:

Resolve me, with all modest haste, which way
Thou might'st deserve, or they impose, this usage
Coming from us.

Kent.
My lord, when at their home
I did commend your highness' letters to them,
Ere I was risen from the place that show'd
My duty kneeling, came there a reeking post,
Stew'd in his haste, half-breathless, panting forth
From Goneril his mistress, salutations;
Deliver❜d letters, spite of intermission,
Which presently they read: on whose contents,
They summon'd up their meiny, straight took horse;
Commanded me to follow, and attend

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

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

Display'd so saucily against your highness),
Having more man than wit about me, drew;
He rais'd the house with loud and coward cries:
Your son and daughter found this trespass worth
The shame which here it suffers.

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 in 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 are sick? they are weary?

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

Fetch me a better answer.

Glo.

My dear lord,

You know the fiery quality of the duke;
How unremoveable 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 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. I'd have all well betwixt you. [Exit. 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: "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 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,
Sepulch'ring an adultress.--O, are you free? [To Kent.
Some other time for that.-Beloved Regan,

Thy sister's naught: O Regan, she hath tied
Sharp-tooth'd unkindness, like a vulture, here.-

[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, 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,