Regan. Why not, my lord? If then they chanc'd to

slack you,1

We could control them. If you will come to me,
(For now I spy a danger) I entreat you
To bring but five and twenty: to no more
Will I give place, or notice.
Lear. I gave you all

Reg.

And in good time you gave it.

Lear. Made you my guardians, my depositaries,
But kept a reservation to be follow'd

With such a number. What! must I come to you
With five and twenty? Regan, said you so?

Reg. And speak 't again, my lord; no more with me.
Lear. Those wicked creatures yet do look well-favour'd,
When others are more wicked; not being the worst,
Stands in some rank of praise. I'll go with thee:
[To GONERIL.

Thy fifty yet doth double five and twenty,
And thou art twice her love.

Goneril.
Hear me, my lord.
What need you five and twenty, ten, or five,
To follow in a house, where twice so many
Have a command to tend you?

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,
Which scarcely keeps thee warm. But, for true need,
You heavens, give me that patience, patience I need!
You see me here, you gods, a poor old man,
As full of grief as age; wretched in both:
If it be you that stir these daughters' hearts
Against their father, fool me not so much 2
To bear it tamely; touch me with noble anger.

O! let not women's weapons, water-drops,

Stain my man's cheeks. No, you unnatural hags,
I will have such revenges on you both,

1. i. e. to be remiss in their service service 2. i. e. do not let me be so foolish.

to you.

King Lear.

That all the world shall I will do such things,
What they are, yet I know not; but they shall be
The terrors of the earth. You think, I'll weep;
No, I'll not weep:

I have full cause of weeping; but this heart

Or ere I'll weep.

[Storm heard at a distance.

Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws,
O, fool! I shall go mad.
[Exeunt LEAR, GLOSTER, KENT, and Fool.
Cornwall. Let us withdraw, 't will be a storm.

Regan. This house is little: the old man and 's people Cannot be well bestow'd.

Goneril. T is his own blame; hath put himself from rest, And must needs taste his folly.1

Reg. For his particular,2 I 'll receive him gladly, But not one follower.

Gon.

So am I purpos'd.

Where is my lord of Gloster?

Re-enter GLOSTER.

He is return'd.

Whither is he going?

Corn. Follow'd the old man forth. Gloster. The king is in high rage. Corn. Glos. He calls to horse; but will I know not whither. Corn. 'T is best to give him way; he leads himself. Gon. My lord, entreat him by no means to stay. Glos. Alack! the night comes on, and the bleak winds Do sorely ruffle; for many miles about

There's scarce a bush.

Reg.

O, Sir! to wilful men,

The injuries that they themselves procure

Must be their schoolmasters. Shut up your doors:
He is attended with a desperate train,

And what they may incense him to, being apt

To have his ear abus'd, wisdom bids fear.5

Corn. Shut up your doors, my lord; 't is a wild night: My Regan counsels well. Come out o' the storm. [Exeunt.

1. It is his own fault; he has deprived himself of a place of rest, and must taste the fruits of his folly.

2. i. e. as far as he personally is

concerned.

3. Alack, alas!

4. Grow fearfully turbulent.

5. And wisdom bids us fear the acts which they may incite him, he being so easily led by what he hears.

ACT III.

SCENE I. A Heath.

A Storm, with Thunder and Lightning. Enter KENT, and a Gentleman,

Kent. Who's here, beside foul weather?

Gentleman. One minded,1 like the weather, most unquietly.
Kent. I know you. Where's the king?

Gent. Contending with the fretful elements;

Bids the wind blow the earth into the sea,
Or swell the curled waters 'bove the main,2

3

That things might change or cease: tears his white hair,
Which the impetuous blasts, with eyeless rage,
Catch in their fury, and make nothing of:
Strives in his little world of man to out-scorn
The to-and-fro-conflicting wind and rain.

This night, wherein the cub-drawn bear 5 would couch,
The lion and the belly-pinched wolf

7

Keep their fur dry, unbonneted he runs,
And bids what will take all.

Kent.

But who is with him?

Gent. None but the fool, who labours to outjest

His heart-struck injuries.8

Kent.

Sir, I do know you,'

And dare, upon the warrant of my note9

Commend a dear thing to you. There is division,
Although as yet the face of it be cover'd

With mutual cunning, 'twixt Albany and Cornwall;
Who have (as who have not, that their great stars
Thron'd and set high?) servants, who seem no less,10

1. Minded, disposed.

2. i. e. the main land.

3. Eyeless rage, blind rage.

4. To make nothing of, to treat with scorn.

5. The cub-drawn bear is the she bear, whose milk has been drunk dry by her cubs, and who is consequently then most inclined to seek prey. 6. Belly-pinched, hungry.

particularly to the article of dress worn by females; except in Scotland, where a man's cap is also so called.

8. i. e. who endeavours by jesting to overpower the sense of injury which has struck so deep in Lear's heart.

9. My note, that which I have noticed.

10. Who have servants (as who has not who has been exalted to a 7. Unbonneted, bare-headed. Bonnet throne by his fortunate stars?) and formerly signified generally, a cover- these servants, who to all appearance ing for the head, but is now applied are nothing else but servants, &c.

Which are to France the spies and speculations
Intelligent of our state;2 what hath been seen,
Either in snuffs and packings 3 of the dukes,
Or the hard rein which both of them have borne
Against the old kind king; or something deeper,
Whereof, perchance, these are but furnishings;4
But, true it is, from France there comes a power
Into this scatter'd kingdom; who already,
Wise in our negligence, have secret feet 5
In some of our best ports, and are at point
To show their open banner. Now to you:
If on my credit you dare build so far
To make your speed to Dover, you shall find
Some that will thank you, making just report
Of how unnatural and bemadding sorrow
The king hath cause to plain.8

6

I am a gentleman of blood and breeding,
And from some knowledge and assurance offer
This office to you.

Gentleman. I will talk farther with you."
Kent.

For confirmation that I am much more
Than my out wall, 10 open this purse, and take
What it contains. If you shall see Cordelia,
(As fear not but you shall) show her this ring,1
And she will tell you who that fellow is

No, do not.

11

That yet you do not know. [Thunder.] Fie on this storm! I will go seek the king.

ing.

5. i. e. have secretly gained a foot

6. At point, armed and ready. Compare note 1, page 27.

7. i. e. if you make a true report. 8. To plain, to lament, to wail. Obsolete. But perhaps to plain is here used for to complain.

9. I will talk further with you, expresses as much as I will think about it, but without promi sing to do what is requested of him.,

10. i. e. than my outside promises, than my outward appearance leads you to imagine.

11. Contained in the purse which he had just given.

Gent. Give me your hand. Have you no more to say? Kent. Few words, but, to effect, more than all yet; That, when we have found the king, in which your pain That way, I'll this,' he that first lights on him, Holloa the other.

[Exeunt severally.

SCENE II.

Another Part of the Heath. Storm continues.

Enter LEAR and Fool.

Lear. Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow! You cataracts and hurricanoes spout,2

Till you have drench'd our steeples, drown'd the cocks!
You sulphurous and thought-executing fires,

4

Vaunt-couriers to oak-cleaving thunder-bolts,

Singe my white head! And thou, all-shaking thunder,
Strike flat the thick rotundity o' the world!

5

Crack nature's moulds, all germens spill at once,
That make ingrateful man!6

Fool. O nuncle, court holy-water in a dry house is better than this rain-water out o' door. Good nuncle, in, and ask thy daughter's blessing: here 's a night pities neíther wise men nor fools.

Lear. Rumble thy bellyful! Spit, fire! spout, rain!
Nor rain, wind, thunder, fire, are my daughters:
I tax not you, you elements, with unkindness;
I never gave you kingdom, call'd you children,
You owe me no subscription:8 then, let fall

1. i. e. in seeking whom, you shall use your endeavours in that direction, I'll go this way.

2. Cataracts here means, waterfalls from the clouds. Hurricano is properly the same as hurricane, a storm of wind, but is here used for waterspout: In "Troilus and Cressida" we find the passage, "Not the dreadful spout which shipmen do the hurricano call."

3. i. e. doing execution with the rapidity of thought: meaning the lightning.

4. Vaunt-couriers for avant-couriers.

5. Germen, a sprouting seed. A Latin word not now in use in English, but from which we have germ.

6. The metaphor in this passage supposes the world to be pregnant; the word rotundity referring not only to the shape of the world, but implying also the roundness of pregnancy. We should now say ungrateful, but ingratitude.

7. Court holy-water is a proverbial expression for fair words.

8. Subscription, obedience, submission. Compare note 9, page 11