Glou. The Duke 's to blame in this; 'twill be ill taken.

Exit.

Kent. Good King, that must approve the common saw, Thou out of heaven's benediction com'st To the warm sun!

Approach, thou beacon to this under globe, That by thy comfortable beams I may Peruse this letter. Nothing almost sees miracles But misery. I know 'tis from Cordelia, Who hath most fortunately been inform'd Of my obscured course- and [reads] 'shall find time From this enormous state, seeking to give Losses their remedies'- All weary and o'erwatch'd, Take vantage, heavy eyes, not to behold This shameful lodging.

Fortune, good night; smile once more, turn thy wheel.

Sleeps.

Scene III.

The open country.

Enter Edgar.

Edg. I heard myself proclaim'd, And by the happy hollow of a tree Escap'd the hunt. No port is free, no place That guard and most unusual vigilance Does not attend my taking. Whiles I may scape, I will preserve myself; and am bethought To take the basest and most poorest shape That ever penury, in contempt of man, Brought near to beast. My face I'll grime with filth, Blanket my loins, elf all my hair in knots, And with presented nakedness outface The winds and persecutions of the sky.

The country gives me proof and precedent Of Bedlam beggars, who, with roaring voices, Strike in their numb'd and mortified bare arms Pins, wooden p.r.i.c.ks, nails, sprigs of rosemary; And with this horrible object, from low farms, Poor pelting villages, sheepcotes, and mills, Sometime with lunatic bans, sometime with prayers, Enforce their charity. 'Poor TurlyG.o.d! poor Tom!'

That's something yet! Edgar I nothing am. Exit.

Scene IV.

Before Gloucester's Castle; Kent in the stocks.

Enter Lear, Fool, and Gentleman.

Lear. 'Tis strange that they should so depart from home, And not send back my messenger.

Gent. As I learn'd, The night before there was no purpose in them Of this remove.

Kent. Hail to thee, n.o.ble master!

Lear. Ha!

Mak'st thou this shame thy pastime?

Kent. No, my lord.

Fool. Ha, ha! look! he wears cruel garters. Horses are tied by the head, dogs and bears by th' neck, monkeys by th' loins, and men by th' legs. When a man's over-l.u.s.ty at legs, then he wears wooden nether-stocks.

Lear. What's he that hath so much thy place mistook To set thee here?

Kent. It is both he and she- Your son and daughter.

Lear. No.

Kent. Yes.

Lear. No, I say.

Kent. I say yea.

Lear. No, no, they would not!

Kent. Yes, they have.

Lear. By Jupiter, I swear no!

Kent. By Juno, I swear ay!

Lear. They durst not do't; They would not, could not do't. 'Tis worse than murther To do upon respect such violent outrage.

Resolve me with all modest haste which way Thou mightst deserve or they impose this usage, Coming from us.

Kent. My lord, when at their home I did commend your Highness' letters to them, Ere I was risen from the place that show'd My duty kneeling, came there a reeking post, Stew'd in his haste, half breathless, panting forth From Goneril his mistress salutations; Deliver'd letters, spite of intermission, Which presently they read; on whose contents, They summon'd up their meiny, straight took horse, Commanded me to follow and attend The leisure of their answer, gave me cold looks, And meeting here the other messenger, Whose welcome I perceiv'd had poison'd mine- Being the very fellow which of late Display'd so saucily against your Highness- Having more man than wit about me, drew.

He rais'd the house with loud and coward cries.

Your son and daughter found this trespa.s.s worth The shame which here it suffers.

Fool. Winter's not gone yet, if the wild geese fly that way.

Fathers that wear rags Do make their children blind; But fathers that bear bags Shall see their children kind.

Fortune, that arrant wh.o.r.e, Ne'er turns the key to th' poor.

But for all this, thou shalt have as many dolours for thy daughters as thou canst tell in a year.

Lear. O, how this mother swells up toward my heart!

Hysterica pa.s.sio! Down, thou climbing sorrow!

Thy element's below! Where is this daughter?

Kent. With the Earl, sir, here within.

Lear. Follow me not; Stay here. Exit.

Gent. Made you no more offence but what you speak of?

Kent. None.

How chance the King comes with so small a number?

Fool. An thou hadst been set i' th' stocks for that question, thou'dst well deserv'd it.

Kent. Why, fool?

Fool. We'll set thee to school to an ant, to teach thee there's no labouring i' th' winter. All that follow their noses are led by their eyes but blind men, and there's not a nose among twenty but can smell him that's stinking. Let go thy hold when a great wheel runs down a hill, lest it break thy neck with following it; but the great one that goes upward, let him draw thee after.

When a wise man gives thee better counsel, give me mine again. I would have none but knaves follow it, since a fool gives it.

That sir which serves and seeks for gain, And follows but for form, Will pack when it begins to rain And leave thee in the storm.

But I will tarry; the fool will stay, And let the wise man fly.

The knave turns fool that runs away; The fool no knave, perdy.

Kent. Where learn'd you this, fool?

Fool. Not i' th' stocks, fool.

Enter Lear and Gloucester

Lear. Deny to speak with me? They are sick? they are weary?

They have travell'd all the night? Mere fetches- The images of revolt and flying off!

Fetch me a better answer.

Glou. My dear lord, You know the fiery quality of the Duke, How unremovable and fix'd he is In his own course.

Lear. Vengeance! plague! death! confusion!

Fiery? What quality? Why, Gloucester, Gloucester, I'ld speak with the Duke of Cornwall and his wife.

Glou. Well, my good lord, I have inform'd them so.

Lear. Inform'd them? Dost thou understand me, man?

Glou. Ay, my good lord.

Lear. The King would speak with Cornwall; the dear father Would with his daughter speak, commands her service.

Are they inform'd of this? My breath and blood!

Fiery? the fiery Duke? Tell the hot Duke that- No, but not yet! May be he is not well.

Infirmity doth still neglect all office Whereto our health is bound. We are not ourselves When nature, being oppress'd, commands the mind To suffer with the body. I'll forbear; And am fallen out with my more headier will, To take the indispos'd and sickly fit For the sound man.- Death on my state! Wherefore Should be sit here? This act persuades me That this remotion of the Duke and her Is practice only. Give me my servant forth.

Go tell the Duke and 's wife I'ld speak with them- Now, presently. Bid them come forth and hear me, Or at their chamber door I'll beat the drum Till it cry sleep to death.

Glou. I would have all well betwixt you. Exit.

Lear. O me, my heart, my rising heart! But down!

Fool. Cry to it, nuncle, as the c.o.c.kney did to the eels when she put 'em i' th' paste alive. She knapp'd 'em o' th' c.o.xcombs with a stick and cried 'Down, wantons, down!' 'Twas her brother that, in pure kindness to his horse, b.u.t.tered his hay.

Enter Cornwall, Regan, Gloucester, Servants.

Lear. Good morrow to you both.

Corn. Hail to your Grace!

Kent here set at liberty.

Reg. I am glad to see your Highness.

Lear. Regan, I think you are; I know what reason I have to think so. If thou shouldst not be glad, I would divorce me from thy mother's tomb, Sepulchring an adultress. [To Kent] O, are you free?