"Tis on such ground, and to such wholesome end, As clears her from all blame. Lear. My curses on her! Reg. Say, you have wrong'd her, sir. Lear. Ask her forgiveness? Do you but mark how this becomes the house: Dear daughter, 1 confess that I am old; Age is unnecessary: on my knees I beg, [Kneeling. That you'll vouchsafe me raiment, bed, and food. Reg. Good sir, no more; these are unsightly tricks : Return you to my sister. Lear. Never, Regan: 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 ingrateful top! Strike her young bones, Corn. Fie, fie, 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, Reg: Thee o'er to harshness; her eyes are fierce, but thine Effects of courtesy, dues of gratitude; Reg. Good sir, to the purpose. [Trumpets within. What trumpet's that? Lear. Who put my man i'the stocks? Corn. Enter STEWARD. 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. What means your grace? Lear. Who stock'd my servant? Regan, I have good hope Thou didst not know of't.-Who comes here? O heavens, Enter GONERIL. If you do love old men, if your sweet sway Make it your cause; send down, and take my part!— [To Goneril. O, Regan, wilt thou take her by the hand?" 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. No, rather I abjure all roofs, and choose To this detested groom. [Looking on the Steward. At your choice, sir. Gon. Lear. I pr'ythee, daughter, do not make me mad; Which I must needs call mine: thou art a boil, In my corrupted blood. But I'll not chide thee; Nor tell tales of thee to high-judging Jove: I, and my hundred knights. Reg. Not altogether so, sir ; I look'd not for you yet, nor am provided For your fit welcome: Give ear, sir, to my sister; But she knows what she does. Lear. Is this well spoken now? Reg. I dare avouch it, sir: What, fifty followers? Is it not well? What should you need of more? Yea, or so many? sith that both charge and danger Speak 'gainst so great a number? How, in one house, Should many people, under two commands, Hold amity? "Tis hard; almost impossible. Gon. Why might not you, my lord, receive attendance From those that she calls servants, or from mine? Reg. Why not, my lord? If then they chanc'd to slack you,, We could control them: If you will come to me Lear. I gave you all Reg. And in good time you gave it. With such a number: What, must I come to you Reg. And speak it again, my lord; no more with me. Lear. Those wicked creatures yet do look wellfavour'd, When others are more wicked; not being the worst, Thy fifty yet doth double five-and-twenty, [To Goneril. Gon. Reg. What need one? Lear. O, reason not the need: our basest beggars Are in the poorest thing superfluous: Allow not nature more than nature needs, Man's life is cheap as beast's: thou art a lady; If only to go warm were gorgeous, Why, nature needs not what thou gorgeous wear'st, I will have such revenges on you both, That all the world shall-I will do such things,— I have full cause of weeping; but this heart, [Exeunt Lear, Gloster, Kent, and Fool. Corn. Let us withdraw, 'twill be a storm. [Storm heard at a distance. Reg. Gon. This house "Tis his own blame; he hath put Himself from rest, and must needs taste his folly. Reg. For his particular, I'll receive him gladly, But not one follower. Gon. Where is my lord of Gloster? So am I purpos'd. Re-enter GLOSTER. Corn. Follow'd the old man forth:-he is return'd. Glo. The king is in high rage. Corn. Whither is he going? Glo. He calls to horse; but will I know not whither. Corn. "Tis best to give him way; he leads himself. Gon. My lord, entreat him by no means to stay. Glo. Alack, the night comes on, and the bleak winds Do sorely ruffle; for many miles about There's scarce a bush. O, sir, to wilful men, Reg. Must be their schoolmasters: Shut up your doors; And what they may incense him to, being apt Corn. Shut up your doors, my lord; 'tis a wild night; My Regan counsels well: come out o'the storm. [Exeunt. |