his Brother, that in pure kindness to his Horfe buttered his Hay. Enter Cornwall, Regan, Glofter, and Servants. Lear. Good Morrow to you both. Corn. Hail to your Grace. [Kent is fet at liberty. Reg. I am glad to fee your Highness. [To Kent. Lear. Regan, I think you are, I know what reason Lear. Say? How is that? Reg. I cannot think my Sifter in the leaft Lear. My Curses on her. Nature in you ftands on the very Verge Lear. Ask her forgiveness? Do you but mark how this becomes the Houfe? Age is unneceffary: On my Knees I beg, That you'll vouchfafe me Raiment, Bed, and Food. Lear. Never, Regan: She hath abated me of half Look'd black upon me, ftruck me with her Tongue All the ftor'd vengeances of Heav'n fall On her ingrateful top: Strike her young bones, Corn. Fie, Sir! fie! Lear. You nimble Lightnings, dart your blinding flames Into her fcornful Eyes: Infect her Beauty, You Fen-fuck'd Fogs, drawn by the powerful Sun Reg. O the bleft Gods! So will you with on me, when the rafh mood is on. Thee o'er to harfhnefs; Her Eyes are fierce, but thine Reg. Good Sir, to th' purpose. Enter Steward. Corn. What Trumpet's that? [Trumpet within. Reg. I know't, my Sifter's: This approves her Letter, That he would foon be here. Is your Lady come? Lear. This is a Slave, whofe eafie 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 ftockt my Servant? Regan, I have grod hope Thou didst not know on't. Who comes here? O Heav'ns! If you do love old Men; if your sweet fway Make it your caufe: Send down and take my part. Ff Art Art not asham'd to look upon this Beard? Gon. Why not by th' hand, Sir? How have I offended? All's not offence that indifcretion finds, And dotage terms fo. Lear. Ŏ fides, you are too tough! Will you yet hold? How came my Man i'th' Stocks? Corn. I fet him there, Sir: But his own Disorders Deferv'd much lefs advancement. Lear. You? Did you? Reg. I pray you, Father, being weak, feem fo. To be a Comerade with the Wolf and Owl, Gon. At your choice, Sir. Lear. I prithee, Daughter, do not make me mad, Which I must needs call mine; Thou art a Bile, In my corrupted blood; but I'll not chide thee. I can be patient, I can ftay with Regan, I look'd not for you yet, nor am provided For your fit welcome; give ear, Sir, to my Sifter; Lear. Is this well spoken? Reg. I dare avouch it, Sir; what, fifty followers? Gon. Why might not you, my Lord, receive attendance From thofe that the calls fervants, or from mine? Reg. Why not, my Lord? If then they chanc'd to flack ye We could controll them; if you will come to me, For now Ifpy a danger, I intreat you To bring but 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 Depofitaries, With fuch a number; What must I come to you Reg. And fpeak't again, my Lord, no more with me. Gon. Hear me, my Lord; What need you five and twenty? Ten? Or five? Have a command to tend you? Reg. What need one? Lear. O reafon not the need: Our bafeft Beggars Are in the pooreft thing fuperfluous ; Ff2 Allow Allow not Nature, more than Nature needs, Why Nature needs not what thou gorgeous wear'st, That all the World fhall-I will do fuch things, [Storm and Tempest. [Exeunt. Reg. This Houfe is little, the old Man and's People Cannot be well beftow'd. Gon. 'Tis his own blame hath put himself from reft, And muft needs tafte his folly. Reg. For his particular, I'll receive him gladly, But not one follower. Gon. So am I purpos'd; Where is my Lord of Glofter? Enter Glofter. Corn. Followed the old Man forth; he is return'd. Corn. Whither is he going? Glo. He calls to Horfe, but will I know not whither. Corn. 'Tis beft 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 forely ruffle, for many Miles about There's fcarce a Bufh. Reg. O Sir, to wilful Men, The |