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When brewers marr their malt with water;
When nobles are their tailors tutors;
No hereticks burn'd, but wenches fuitors;
Then comes the time, who lives to fee't,
That going fhall be us'd with feet.
When every cafe in law is right,

No 'Squire in debt, nor no poor Knight;
When flanders do not live in tongues,
And cut-purfes come not to throngs;
When ufurers tell their gold i' th' field,
And bawds and whores do churches build
Then fhall the realm of Albion

Come unto great confufion.

This prophecy Merlin fhall make, for I do live before his

time.

[Exit. SCENE IV. An apartment in Glo'fter's Caftle. Enter Glo'fter and Baftard.

Glo. Alack, alack, Edmund, I like not this unnatural dealing; when I defired their leave that I might pity him, they took from me the ufe of mine own houfe, charg'd me on pain of perpetual displeasure, neither to speak of him, entreat for him, or any way sustain him.

Baft. Moft favage and unnatural!

Glo. Go to; fay you nothing. There is divifion be tween the Dukes, and a worse matter than that: I have received a letter this night, 'tis dangerous to be spoken, I have lock'd the letter in my closet: these injuries the King now bears will be revenged home; there is part of a power already footed; we muft incline to the King, I will look for him, and privily relieve him; go you and maintain talk with the Duke, that my charity be not of hims perceiv'd; if he afk for me, I am ill, and gone to bed if I die for it, as no lefs is threatned me, the King my old mafter must be relieved. There are ftrange things toward, Edmund; pray you, be careful. [Exit.

Baft. This courtefie forbid thee fhall the Duke
Inftantly know, and of that letter too.
This feems a fair deferving, and muft draw me
That which my father lofes ; no less than all.
The younger rifes, when the old doth fall.
N 2

[Exit. SCENE

SCENE V. 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 th' open night's too rough

For nature to endure.

Lear. Let me alone.

Kent. Good my Lord, enter here.

Lear. Wilt break my heart?

[Storm fill.

Kent. I'd rather break mine own; good my Lord, enter; Lear. Thou think'ft 'tis much that this contentious ftorm Invades us to the fkin; fo 'tis to thee;

But where the greater malady is fixt,

The leffer is fcarce felt. Thou'dft fhun a bear;

But if thy flight lay toward the roaring sea,

Thou'dft meet the bear i'th' mouth; when the mind's free,
The body's delicate; the tempeft in my mind
Doth from my fenfes take all feeling else,
Save what beats there. Filial ingratitude!
Is it not, as this mouth
For lifting food to't ?-

fhould tear this hand

But I'll punish home;

No, I will weep no more in fuch a night,

To fhut me out?

pour on, I will endure:

In fuch a night as this? O Regan, Gonerill,

Your old kind father, whofe frank heart gave all-
O, that way madness lyes, let me fhun that,

No more of that.

Kent. Good my Lord, enter here.

Lear. Pr'ythee, go in thy felf, feek thine own eafe, This tempeft will not give me leave to ponder

On things would hurt me more- but I'll go in;

In, boy, go firft.. You houseless poverty.

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Nay, get thee in; I'll pray, and then I'll fleep-[Ex. Food.
Poor naked wretches, wherefoe'er you are

That bide the pelting of this pitilefs ftorm!
How fhall your houseless heads, and unfed fides,
Your loop'd and window'd raggedness, defend you
From feafons fuch as thefe ?O, I have ta'en
Too little care of this: take phyfick, pomp!
Expofe thy felf to feel what wretches feel,
That thou may'ft shake the fuperflux to them

And

And fhew the heav'ns more juft.

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

Fool. Come not in here, nuncle, here's a fpirit, help me, help me. [The Fool runs out from the Hovel.

Kent. Give me thy hand, who's there? Fool. A fpirit, a fpirit, he fays his name's poor Tom. Kent. What art thou that do'ft grumble there i'th' ftraw? come forth.

SCENE VI.

Enter Edgar, difguis'd like a Madman.

Edg. Away, the foul fiend follows me. Through the fharp hawthorn blows the cold wind.

bed and warm thee.

Humph, go to thy

Lear. Didft thou give all to thy 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 whirl-pool, o'er bog and quagmire, that hath laid knives under his pillow, and halters in his pue; fet ratsbane by his porridge, made him proud of heart, to ride on a bay trotting horfe, over four inch'd bridges, to course his own fhadow for a traitor,- bless thy five wits, Tom's a-cold. O do, de, do, de, do, de, blefs thee from whirl-winds, ftar-blafting, and taking; do poor Tom fome charity, whom the foul fiend vexes. There could I have him now, and there, and here again, and there. [Storm fill.

Lear. What! have his daughters brought him to this pass? Could'ft thou fave nothing? didft thou give 'em all? Fool. Nay, he referv'd a blanket, else we had been all fhamed.

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.

Lear. Death, traitor, nothing could have subdu'd nature To fuch a lowness, but his unkind daughters. Is it the fashion, that discarded fathers Should have thus little mercy on their flesh? Judicious punishment! 'twas this flesh begot Those pelican daughters,

N 3

Edz.

Edg. Pillicock fat on pillicock-hill, alow, alow, 160, 100.

Fool. This cold night will turn us all to fools, and mad

men.

Edg. Take heed o'th' foul fiend, obey thy parents, keep thy word juftly, fwear not, commit not with man's fworn fpoufe; fet not thy fweet heart on proud array. Tom's a-cold.

Lear. What haft thou been?

Edg. A ferving-man, proud in heart and mind; that curl'd my hair, wore gloves in my cap, ferv'd the luft of my mistress's heart, and did the act of darkness with her: fwore as many oaths as I fpake words, and broke them in the fweet face of heav'n. One that flept on the contriving luft, and wak'd to do it. Wine lov'd I deeply; dice dearly; and in woman, out-paramour'd the Turk. Falfe of heart, light of ear, bloody of hand; hog in floth, fox in ftealth, wolf in greedinefs, dog in madnefs, lion in prey. Let not the creaking of fhoes, nor the rufiling of filks, betray thy poor heart to woman. Keep thy foot out of brothels, thy hand out of plackets, thy pen from lenders books, and defie the foul fiend. Still through the hawthorn blows, the cold wind: fays fuum, mun, nonny, dolphin my boy, -boy, Seffey let him trot by. [Storm fill. Lear. Thou wert better in a grave, than to answer with thy uncover'd body this extremity of the fkies. Is man no more than this? Confider him well. Thou ow`ft the worm no filk, the beast no hide, the sheep no wool, the cat no perfume, Ha! here's three of us are fophifticated. Thou art the thing itself; unaccommodated man is no more but fuch a poor, bare, forked animal as thou art. Off, off, you lendings: come, unbutton here.

[Tearing off bis cloaths. Fool. Pr'ythee, nuncle, be contented; 'tis a naughty night to fwim in. Now a little fire in a wild field were like an old letcher's heart, a fmall fpark, and all the reft on's body cold; look, here comes a walking fire.

Edg. This is the foul Flibbertigibbet; he begins at curfew, and walks 'till the first cock; he gives the web and she pin, fquints the eye, and makes the hare-lip; mil

dews

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dews the white wheat, and hurts the poor creatures of the

earth..

St. Withold footed thrice the wold;

He met the night-mare, and her nine-fold,
Bid her alight, and her troth plight,
And aroynt thee, witch, aroynt thee!
"Kent. How fares your Grace?

SCENE VII.

Enter Glo'fler with a torch.

Lear. What's he?

Kent. Who's there? what is't you seek?
Glo. What are you there? your names?

Edg. Poor Tom, that eats the fwimming frog, the toad, the todpole; the wall-newt, and the water-newt; that in the fury of his heart, when the foul fiend rages, eats cowdang for fallets; fwallows the old rat, and the ditch-dog drinks the green mantle of the ftanding pool; who is whipt from tything to tything, and ftock-punish'd, and imprifon'd: who hath had three fuits to his back, fix fhirts to his body, horfe to ride, and weapon to wear:

But mice, and rats, and fuch small geer

Have been Tom's food for feven long year.

Beware my follower. Peace, Smulkin, peace, thou fiend!
Glo. What, hath your Grace no better company?
Edg. The Prince of darkness is a gentleman, Moda
he's call'd, and Mahu.

Glo. Our flesh and blood, my Lord, is grown fo vile,
That it doth hate what gets it.

Edg. Tom's a-cold.

Glo. Go in with me; my duty cannot suffer
Tobey in all your daughters hard commands:
Though their injunction be to bar my doors,
And let this tyrannous night take hold upon you,
Yet have I ventur'd to come feek you out,
And bring you where both fire and food are ready,
Lear. Firft let me talk with this philofopher;

What is the cause of thunder?

Kent. My good Lord, take his offer,

Go into th' house.

Lear. I'll talk a word with this fame learned Theban :

What

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