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Look'd black upon me; struck me with her tongue,
Reg. O the blest gods ! so will you wish on me,
Good sir, to the purpose. Lear. Who put my man i' the stocks?
[Truinpets within. Corn.
What trumpet's that ? Reg. I know't, --my sister's.
Enter OSWALD. Is your lady come ?
Lear. Out, varlet, from my sight! [Trumpets.] Ah! Who comes here? O heavens, If you do love old men, if your sweet sway Allow obedience, if yourselves are old, Make it your cause; send down, and take my part !
Enter GONERIL, Ladies, and Attendants. Art not asham'd to look upon this beard ?— 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. [Aside.] O sides, you are too tough! Will you yet hold ?-Aloud.] How came my man
i'th' stocks ?
You ! did you ?
Lear. Return to her, and fifty men dismiss'd ?
At your choice, sir.
Not altogether so:
Is this well spoken now?
Gon. Why might not you, my lord, receive
attendance From those that she calls servants or from mine?
Reg. Why not, my lord ! If you will come to me,-
Lear. I gave you all-
And in good time you gave it. 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.— [TÓ GONERIL. I'll
go with thee :
Hear me, my lord :
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 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,
[Storm heard at a distance. Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws, Or e'er I'll weep.-0, fool, I shall go mad!
[Exit. ACT III.
SCENE 1.-A Heath.
A storm, with thunder and lightning. Enter KENT
and a Gentleman, meeting.
HO'S there, besides foul weather ?
Gent. One minded 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, That things might change or cease. Kent.
But who is with him? Gent. None but the fool; who labours to out-jest His heart-struck injuries. Kent.
Sir, I do know you; And dare commend a dear thing to you. There's Division 'twixt Albany and Cornwall; And, true it is, from France there comes a power