I can scarce speak to thee: thou'lt not believe
With how depraved a quality-O Regan!

REG. I pray you, sir, take patience; I have hope
You less know how to value her desert

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 restrained the riots of your followers,
'Tis on such ground and to such wholesome 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
Of her confine: you should be ruled and led
By some discretion that discerns your state
Better than you yourself. Therefore, I pray you,
That to our sister you do make return :

Say you have wronged her, sir.

Ask her forgiveness?

LEAR.
Do you but mark how this becomes the house :

[Kneeling.] Dear daughter, I confess that I am old;
Age is unnecessary: on my knees I beg,

That you'll vouchsafe me raiment, bed, and food.

REG. Good sir, no more; these are unsightly tricks :

Return you

to my

LEAR. [Rising.]

sister.

Never, Regan :

She hath abated me of half my train;

Looked black upon me; struck me with her tongue,

-Most serpent like, upon the very heart:

All the stored 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

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135

140

145

150

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160

Into her scornful eyes! Infect her beauty,
You fen-sucked 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

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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 endowed.

REG.

Good sir, to the purpose.

LEAR. Who put my man i' the stocks? [Trumpet without.
CORN.

What trumpet's that?

REG. I know't; my sister's: this approves her letter, That she would soon be here.

175

Enter OSWALD.

Is your lady come?

LEAR. This is a slave whose easy-borrowed pride Dwells in the fickle grace of her he follows.

Out, varlet, from my sight!

CORN.

What means your grace?

LEAR. Who stocked my servant? Regan, I have good hope Thou didst not know on't. Who comes here?

Enter GONERIL.

If you do love old men, if your sweet sway
Allow obedience, if yourselves are old,

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O heavens,

185

LEAR. No, Regan, thou shalt never have my curse.

Make it your cause; send down, and take my part!

[To GONERIL.] Art not ashamed 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? 190 All's not offence that indiscretion finds

And dotage terms so.

LEAR.

O, sides, you are too tough;

Will you yet hold? How came my man i' the stocks?
CORN. I set him there, sir: but his own disorders
Deserved much less advancement.

LEAR.

You! did you?

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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 am now from home, and out of that provision
Which shall be needful for your entertainment.
LEAR. Return to her, and fifty men dismissed ?
No, rather I abjure all roofs, and choose
To wage against the enmity o' the 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.

GON.

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210

[Looking on OSWALD.

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 boil,

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Swollen

A plague-sore, an embossed 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:

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Mend when thou canst; be better at thy leisure :
I can be patient; I can stay with Regan,

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Not altogether so:

I and my hundred knights.

REG.

I looked 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, and so—
But she knows what she does.

Is this well spoken?

230

LEAR.
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.

235

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 chanced to slack
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. 245

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.

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