SCENE II. A Room in GLOSTER's Castle. Enter EDMUND, Edm. The storm is in our louder rev'lings drown'd. The drudging peasant's neck, who bellows out Two PAGES, from several Entrances, deliver him each a [Reads.] Where merit is so transparent, not to behold it were blindness, and not to reward it, ingratitude. Enough! blind and ungrateful should I be, GONERIL. [Reads.] If modesty be not your enemy, doubt not to find me your friend. REGAN Excellent sybil! O my glowing blood! Here Gloster comes, With business on his brow; be hush'd, my joys. Enter GLOSTer. Glost. I come to seek thee, Edmund, to impart a bu siness of importance. I know thy loyal heart is touched to see the cruelty of these ungrateful daughters against our royal master. Edm. Most savage and unnatural! The Glost. This change in the state sits uneasy. commons repine aloud at their female tyrants; already they cry out for the re-instalment of their good old king, whose injuries, I fear, will inflame them into mutiny. Edm. 'Tis to be hoped, not fear'd. Glost. Thou hast it, boy; 'tis to be hoped indeed. On me they cast their eyes, and hourly court me To lead them on; and, whilst this head is mine, I'm theirs. A little covert craft, my boy, And then for open action; 'twill be employment Worthy such honest daring souls as thine. Thou, Edmund, art my trusty emissary, Haste on the spur, at the first break of day, With these dispatches to the duke of Cambray. [Gives him letters. You know what mortal feuds have always flamed Between this Duke of Cornwall's family and his; Full twenty thousand mountaineers Th' inveterate prince will send to our assistance. Dispatch; commend us to his grace, and prosper. [Exit GLOSTEN. Edm. Yes, credulous old man, His grace the Duke of Cornwall:instantly The chol❜ric duke gives sentence on thy life; [Retires. GLOSTER returns, followed by CORDELIA and AranThe, poorly dressed;-EDMUND observing at a distance. Cord. Turn, Gloster, turn; by all the sacred pow'rs, I do conjure you give my griefs a hearing: [Kneels, Glost. What wouldst thou, princess? Rise, and speak thy griefs. Cord. Nay, you shall promise to redress them too, Or here I'll kneel for ever. I entreat Thy succour for a father, and a king; An injured father and an injured king. Edm. O charming sorrow! How her tears adorn her! Glost. Consider, princess, [Raises her, For whom thou begg'st, 'tis for the king that wrong'd thee. Cord. O name not that; he did not, could not, wrong me. Nay, muse not, Gloster; for it is too likely This injured king ere this is past your aid, Edm. I'll gaze no more;and yet my eyes are charm'd. Cord. Or, what if it be worse?-Can there be worse? Ah, 'tis too probable, this furious night Has pierced his tender body; the bleak winds And I have only one poor boon to beg; That you'd convey me to his breathless trunk, To wash his clay-smear'd cheeks, and die beside him. My injured master, and thy virtue tells me Cord. Dispatch, Aranthe; For in this disguise, we'll instantly [Exit GLOSTER. Go seek the king, and bring him some relief, Cord. I cannot dread the furies in this case, A Cord. Therefore no shelter for the king, And more our charity to find him out. What have not women dared for vicious love! And we'll be shining proofs that they can dare Blow, winds, and lightnings fall; Bold in my virgin innocence I'll fly, [Thunder. [Exeunt CORDElia and Aranthe. Edm. In this disguise, we'll instantly Go seek the king!- -Ha ha! a lucky change: I'll bribe two ruffians shall at distance follow, With these dispatches; then to the field, [Exit. SCENE III. Another Part of the Heath,-Rain-Thunder-Light ning. Enter KING LEAR and KENT. Kent. Here is the place, my lord; good my lord, enter: The tyranny of this open night's too rough For nature to endure. Lear. Let me alone. Kent. Good y lord, enter. Lear. Wilt break my heart? Kent. I'd rather break mine own. Lear. Thou think'st 'tis much that this contentious storm my mind Invades us to the skin; so 'tis to thee; |