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his Brother, that in pure kindness to his Horse buttered his Hay.

Enter Cornwall, Regan, Gloster, and Servants, Lear. Good Morrow to you both. Corn. Hail to your Grace. [Kent is set at liberty. Reg. I am glad to see your Highnels. 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 Adulteress. O, are you free?

[To Kent.
Soine other time for that. Beloved Regan,
Thy Sister's naught: Oh Regan, she hath tied
Sharp-tooth'd unkindness, like a Vulture, here;
I can scarce speak to thee, thou'lt not believe
With how deprav'd a quality --Oh Regan! -

Reg. I pray you, Sir, take patience, I have hope
You less know how to value her deferi,
Than she to scant her Duty.

Lear. Say? How is that?

Reg. I cannot think my sister in the least Would fail her Obligation. If, Sir, perchance She have restrain'd the Riots of your Followers, 'Tis on such Ground, and to such wholesom end, As clears her from all blame.

Lear. My Curses on her.

Reg. O Sir, you are old,
Nature in you stands on the very Verge
Ofher confine; you should be rulld and led
By fome discretion, that discerns

your

State
Better than you your self: Therefore I pray you,
That to our Sister you do make return,
Say you have wrong'd her.

Lear. Ask her forgiveness?
Do you but mark how this becomes the House?
Dear Daughter, I confess that I am old;
Age is unnecessary: On my Knees I beg,
That you'll vouchlafe me Raiment, Bed, and Food.

Reg. Good Sir, no more; these are unsightly Tricks: Return you to my Sister.

Lear. Never, Regan :
She hath abated me of half

my Train;

Look'd

Look'd black upon me, struck me with her Tongue
Most Serpent-like, upon the very heart.
All the stor'd vengeances of Heav'n fall
On her ingrateful top: Strike her young bones
You taking Airs, with Lameness.

Corn. Fie, Sir! fie!

Lear. You nimble Lightnings, dart your blinding flames
Into her scornful Eyes: Infed her Beauty,
You Fen-suck'd Fogs, drawn by the powerful Sun
To fall, and blister.

Reg. O the blest Gods!
So will you wish on me, when the rash mood is on.

Lear. No, Regan, thou shalt never have my curse:
Thy tender-hefted Nature thall not give
Thee o'er to harshness; Her Eyes are fierce, but thine
Do comfort, and not buro. Tis not in thee
To grudge my Pleasures, to cut off my Train,
To bandy hasty words, to scant my fizes,
And in conclusion, to oppose the bolt
Against my coming in. ''Thou better know'st
The Offices of Nature, Bond of Child-hood,
Effects of Courtelic, and Dues of Gratitude:
Thy half o'ch'Kingdom hast thou not forgot,
Wherein I thee endow'd.

Reg. Good Sir, to th' purpose. [Trumpet withit.
Lear. Who put my Man i'ch'Stocks?

Enter Steward.
Corn. What Trumpet's that?

Reg. I know't, my sister's : This approves her Letter, That she would soon be here. Is your Lady come?

Lear. This is a Slave, whole easie borrowed pride
Dwells in the fickly grace of her he follows.
Out Varler, from my fight.
Corn. What means your Grace?

Enter Gonerill.
Lear. Who stockt my Servant ? Regan, I have good hope
Thou didst not know on't.
Who comes here? Q Heav'ns !
If you do love old Men ; if your sweet sway
Allow Obedience ; if you your selves are old,
Make it your cause : Send down and take my part.
Vol. V.

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Art

Art not asham'd to look upon this Beard? o Regan, will you take her by the Hand ?

Gon. Why not by th'hand, Sir ? How have I offended All's not offence that indiscretion finds, And dotage terms fo.

Lear. O fides, you are too tough ! Will you yet hold? How came my Man i'ch' Stocks?

Corn. I let him there, Sir : But his own Disorders Delery'd much less advancement.

Lear. You? Did you ?

Reg. I pray you, Father, being weak, feem fo.
If, 'till the expiration of your Month,
You will recurn and fojourn with my Sister,
Dismissing half your train, come then to me,
I am now from home, and out of that provision,
Which shall be needful for your entertainment.

Lear. Return to her and fifty Men dismiss'd ?
No, rather I abjure all roofs, and chuse
To wage against the enmity o'th' Air,
To be a Comerade with the Wolf and Owl,
Necessity's sharp pinch Return with her ?
Why? The hot-bloody'd France, that Dowerless took
Our youngest born, I could as well be brought
To knee his Throne, and Squire-like Pension beg,
To keep base Life a-foot; return with her ?
Perswade me rather to be Slave and Sumpter
To this detested Groom.

Gon. At your choice, Sir.

Lear. I prithee, Daughter, do not make me mad,
I will not trouble thee, my Child. Farewell :
We'll no more meet, no more see one another,
But yet thou art my Flesh, my Blood, my Daughter,
Or rather a disease that's in my flesh,
Which I must needs call mine ; Thou art a Bile,
A plague-fore, or imbossed Carbuncle
In my corrupted blood; but I'll not chide thee.
Let Thame come when it will, I do not call it,
I do not bid the Thunder-Bearer shoot,
Nor tell tales of thee to high-judging Jove.
Mend when thou canst, be better at thy leisure,

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I can be patient, I can stay with Regan,
I and my hundred Knights.

Reg. Not altogether so,
I look'd not for you yet, nor am provided
For

your fit welcome ; give ear, Sir, to my Sister ;
For those that mingle reason with your pallion,
Must be content to think you old, and fo-
But she knows what the does.

Lear. Is this well spoken?

Reg. I dare avouch it, Sir; what, fifty followers ? Is it not well? What should you need of more.? Yea, or so many ? Sith that both charge and danger, Speak 'gainst so great a number : How in one house

Should many people, under two commands, Hold amity ? 'Tis hard, almost impossible.

Gon. Why might not you, my Lord, receive attendance
From those that she calls fervants, or from mine?

Reg. Why not, my Lord? If then they chanc'd to lack ye
We could controll them; if you will come to me,
For now I spy a danger, I intreat you
To bring bur 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 keep a reservation to be followed
With such a number ; What must I come to you
With five and twenty? Regan, said you fo?

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 fome rank of praise ; l'll go with thee,
Thy fifty yet doth double five and twenty ;
And thou art twice her Love.

Gon. Hear me, my Lord;
What peed 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 bafest Beggars
Are in the poorest thing superfluous ;
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Allow not Nature, more than Nature needs,
Man's Life is cheap as Beasts. 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 Heav’os, 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 Dauh ers hearts
Against their Father, fool me not to much,
To bear it camely : Touch me with noble Anger,
And let not Womens weapons, water drops,
Stain my Man's checks. No, you unnatural Hags,
I will have such revenges on you both,
That all the World Thall - I will do such things,
What they are yet, I know not, but they hall be
The terrors of the Earth ; you think I'll weep,
No, I'll not weep, I have full cause of weeping.

[Storm and Tempeft. But this Heart shall break icto a hurdred thousand flaws, Or e'er I weep.

O Fool, I shall go mad. (Exeunt. Cron. Lt us withdraw, 'will be a Storm.

Reg. This House is little, the old Man and's People Cannot be well bestow'd.

Gon. 'Tis his own blame hath put himself from rest, And must needs taste his folly.

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

Gox. So am I purpos’d; Where is my Lord of Glofter ?

Enter Glofter. Corn. Followed the old Man forth; he is return'd. Glo. The King is in high rage. Corn. Whither is he going? Glo. He calls to Horse, but will I kcow not whither. Corn. 'Tis best to give him way, he leads himself. Gon. My Lord, intreat him by no means to stay.

Glo. Alack, the Night comes on : and the high winds Do sorely ruffle, for many Miles about There's scarce a Bush. Reg. O Sir, to wilful Men,

The

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