Lear. [rising]

Never, Regan:

She hath abated me of half my train;

Look'd black upon me; struck me with her tongue,
Most serpent-like, upon the very heart:
All the stor❜d vengeances of heaven 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! Infect her beauty,

You fen-suck'd fogs, drawn by the powerful sun,
To fall and blast her pride!

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 shall not give

Thee o'er to harshness: her eyes are fierce; but thine
Do comfort, and not burn. 'Tis not in thee
To grudge my pleasures, to cut off my train,
To bandy hasty words, to scant my sizes,
And, in conclusion, to oppose the bolt
Against my coming in: thou better know'st
The offices of nature, bond of childhood,
Effects of courtesy, dues of gratitude;

Thy half o' the kingdom hast thou not forgot
Wherein I thee endow'd.

Reg.

Good sir, to the purpose.
Lear. Who put my man i' the stocks?
Corn.

Reg. I know't,

[Tucket within.

What trumpet's that?

my sister's: this approves her letter,

That she would soon be here.

Enter OSWALD.

Is your lady come?

Lear. This is a slave, whose easy-borrow'd pride

Dwells in the fickle grace of her he follows.

Out, varlet, from my sight!

Corn.

What means your grace?

Lear. Who stock'd my servant? Regan, I have good hope Thou didst not know on't. Who comes here? O heavens,

Enter GONERIL.

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!
[To Gon.] 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.

Will you yet hold?

--

O sides, you are too tough;

How came my man i' the stocks? Corn. I set him there, sir: but his own disorders Deserv'd much less advancement.

Lear.

You! did you?

Reg. I pray you, father, being weak, seem so.
If, till the expiration of your month,
You will return and sojourn with my sister,
Dismissing half your train, come then to me:
I'm 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 choose
To wage against the enmity o' th' air;
To be a comrade with the wolf and owl,
Necessity's sharp pinch! Return with her?
Why, the hot-blooded 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 afoot. Return with her?

Persuade me rather to be slave and sumpter

To this detested groom.

[Pointing at Oswald. 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 boil,
A plague-sore, an embossèd carbuncle,

In my corrupted blood. But I'll not chide thee;
Let shame 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:
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 passion
Must be content to think you old,
But she knows what she does.

Lear.

and so

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 servants or from mine?

Reg. Why not, my lord? If then they chanc'd to slack you, We could control them. If you will come to me,

For now I spy a danger, - I entreat 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 depositaries;

But kept a reservation to be follow'd

With such a number. What, must I come to you
With five-and-twenty, Regan? said you so?

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 some rank of praise. — [To Gon.] I'll go with thee: Thy fifty yet doth double five-and-twenty,

And thou art twice her love.

Gon.

Hear me, my lord:
What need 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 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,
And let not women's weapons, water-drops,
Stain my man's cheeks! No, you unnatural hags,
I will have such revenges on you both,

-

That all the world shall — I will do such things, -
What they are, yet I know not; but they shall be
The terrors of the earth. You think I'll weep;
No, I'll not weep:

I have full cause of weeping; but this heart
Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws,
Or e'er I'll weep. O fool, I shall go mad!

[Exeunt Lear, Gloster, Kent, and Fool. Storm heard at a distance.

Corn. Let us withdraw; 'twill be a storm.

Reg. This house is little: the old man and his 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, I'll receive him gladly, But not one follower.

Gon.

So am I purpos'd.

Where is my Lord of Gloster?

Corn. Follow'd the old man forth: - he is return'd.

Re-enter GLOster.

Glo. The king is in high rage.

Corn.

Whither is he going?

Glo. He calls to horse; but will I know not whither. Corn. 'Tis best to give him way; he leads himself. Gon. My lord, entreat him by no means to stay. Glo. Alack, the night comes on, and the bleak winds Do sorely ruffle; for many miles about

There's scarce a bush.

Reg.

O, sir, to wilful men

The injuries that they themselves procure

Must be their schoolmasters. Shut up your doors:
He is attended with a desperate train;

And what they may incense him to, being apt

To have his ear abus'd, wisdom bids fear.

Corn. Shut up your doors, my lord; 'tis a wild night:

My Regan counsels well: come out o' the storm.

[Exeunt.

ACT III.

SCENE I. A heath.

A storm, with thunder and lightning. Enter KENT and a Gentleman, meeting.

Kent. Who's there, besides foul weather?

Gent. One minded like the weather, most unquietly.