To shut me out!-Pour on; I will endure:→
In such a night as this! O Regan, Goneril!-
Your old kind father, whose frank heart gave all,—
O, that way madness lies; let me shun that;
No more of that,-

Kent.

Good, my lord, enter here. Lear. Pr'ythee, go in thyself; seek thine own ease; This tempest will not give me leave to ponder On things would hurt me more. But I'll go in: In, boy; go first.--[To the Fool.] You houseless poverty,

--

Nay, get thee in. I'll pray, and then I'll sleep,

[Fool goes in Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are, That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm, How shall your houseless heads, and unfed sides, *Your loop'd and window'd raggedness, defend you From seasons such as these? O, I have ta'en Too little care of this! Take physic, pomp; Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel;

That thou may'st shake the superflux to them,

And show the heavens more just.

验

Enter EDGAR, disguised as a Madman.

Edg. Away! the foul fiend follows me!Through the sharp hawthorn blows the cold windHumph! go to thy cold bed, and warm thee. Lear. Hast thou given all to thy two daughters? And art thou come to this?

Now all the plagues that in the pendulous air Hang fated o'er men's faults, light on thy daughters! Kent. He hath no daughters, sir.

Lear. Death, traitor! nothing could have subdu'd

nature

To such a lowness, but his unkind daughters.—
Is it the fashion, that discarded fathers
Should have thus little mercy on their flesh?

Judicious punishment! 'twas this flesh begot
Those pelican daughters.

ON MAN.

Is man no more than this? Consider him well: Thou owest the worm no silk, the beast no hide, the sheep no wool, the cat no perfume:-Ha! here's three of us are sophisticated? Thou art the thing itself: unaccommodated man is no more but such a poor, bare, forked animal as thou art-Off, off, you lendings.

ACT IV.

THE JUSTICE OF PROVIDENCE.

That I am wretched,

Makes thee the happier:-Heavens, deal so still!
Let the superfluous, and lust-dieted man,
That slaves your ordinance,* that will not see
Because he doth not feel, feel your power quickly;
So distribution should undo excess,
And each man have enough.

PATIENCE AND SORROW.

Patience and sorrow strove

Who should express her goodliest. You have seen
Sunshine and rain at once: her smiles and tears
Were like a better day: Those happy smiles
That play'd on her ripe lip, seem'd not to know
What guests were in her eyes; which parted thence,
As pearls from diamonds dropp'd.-In brief, sorrow
Would be a rarity most belov'd, if all

Could so become it.

LEAR'S DISTRACTION DESCRIBED.
Alack, 'tis he; why, he was met even now
As mad as the vex'd sea: singing aloud;
Crown'd with rank fumitert and furrow weeds,
With harlocks,‡ hemlock, nettles, cuckoo-flowers,
Darnel, and all the idle weeds that grow

In our sustaining corn.

* i. e. To make it subject to us, instead of acting in obedience to it. + Charlocks.

† Fumitory.

DESCRIPTION of Doyer CLIFF.

Come on, sir; here's the place;-stand still.-How And dizzy 'tis, to cast one's eyes so low! [fearful The crows, and choughs,* that wing the midway air, Show scarce so gross as beetles: Half way down Hangs one that gathers samphire;† dreadful trade! Methinks he seems no bigger than his head: The fishermen, that walk upon the beach, Appear like mice; and yon' tall anchoring bark, Diminish'd to her cock;‡ her cock, a buoy Almost too small for sight: The murmuring surge, That on the unnumber'd idle pebbles chafes, Cannot be heard so high:-I'll look no more; Lest my brain turn, and the deficient sight Topple down headlong.

GLOSTER'S FAREWELL TO THE WORLD.

O you mighty gods!

This world I do renounce; and, in your sights,
Shake patiently my great affliction off:
If I could bear it longer, and not fall

To quarrel with your great opposeless wills,
My snuff, and loathed part of nature, should
Burn itself out. If Edgar live, O, bless him!

LEAR ON HIS FLATTERERS.

They flatter'd me like a dog; and told me, I had white hairs in my beard, ere the black ones were there. To say ay, and no, to every thing I said!Ay and no too was no good divinity. When the rain came to wet me once, and the wind to make me chatter; when the thunder would not peace at my bidding; there I found them, there I smelt them out. Go to, they are not men o' their words: they told me I was every thing; 'tis a lie; I am not ague-proof.

ON THE ABUSE OF POWER.

Thou rascal beadle, hold thy bloody hand: Why dost thou lash that whore? Strip thine own back;

Thou hotly lust'st to use her in that kind

* Daws.
Her cock-boat.

† A vegetable gathered for pickling.
Il Tumble.

For which thou whipp'st her. The usurer hangs the

cozener.

་།

ཝཱ

Through tatter'd clothes small vices do appear; Robes, and furr'd gowns, hide all. Plate sin with gold,

And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks;
Arm it in rags, a pigmy's straw doth pierce it.
None does offend, none, I say, none; I'll able 'em:
Take that of me, my friend, who have the power
To seal the accuser's lips. Get thee glass eyes;
And, like a scurvy politician, seem
To see the things thou dost not.

CORDELIA ON THE INGRATITUDE OF HER SISTERS.

O my dear father! Restoration, hang

Thy medicine on my lips; and let this kiss
Repair those violent harms, that my two sisters
Have in thy reverence made!

*

*

#

Had you not been their father, these white flakes
Had challeng'd pity of them. Was this a face
To be expos'd against the warring winds?
To stand against the deep dread-bolted thunder?
In the most terrible and nimble stroke
Of quick, cross lightning?

*

And wast thou fain, poor father,

To hovel thee with swine, and rogues forlorn,
In short and musty straw? Alack, alack!
'Tis wonder, that thy life and wits at once
Had not concluded all.

SCENE BETWEEN LEAR AND CORDELIA.

Cor. How does my royal lord? How fares your majesty?

Lear. You do me wrong, to take me out o' the

grave:

Thou art a soul in bliss; but I am bound

Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears

Do scald like molten lead.

Cor.

Sir, do you know me?

Lear. You are a spirit, I know: When did you die?

Cor. Still, still, far wide!

Phys. He's scarce awake; let him alone awhile Lear. Where have I been?-Where am I?-Fair day-light?—

I am mightily abus'd.—I should even die with pity,
To see another thus.-I know not what to say.—
I will not swear, these are my hands: let's see:
I feel this pin prick. 'Would I were assur'd
Of my condition.

Cor.

O, look upon me, sir,

And hold your hands in benediction o'er me:-
No, sir, you must not kneel.

Lear.

Pray, do not mock me

I am a very foolish fond old man,

Fourscore and upward; and, to deal plainly,

I fear, I am not in my perfect mind.

Methinks, I should know you, and know this man:
Yet I am doubtful: for I am mainly ignorant
What place this is; and all the skill I have
Remembers not these garments; nor I know not
Where I did lodge last night: Do not laugh at me;
For, as I am a man, I think this lady

To be my child Cordelia.

Cor.

And so I am, 1 am.

Lear. Be your tears wet? Yes, 'faith. I pray, weep

not:

If you have poison for me, I will drink it.
I know, you do not love me; for your sisters
Have, as I do remember, done me wrong:
You have some cause, they have not.

Cor.

Lear. Am I in France?
Kent.

Lear. Do not abuse me.

No cause, no cause.

In your own kingdom, sir.

Phys. Be comforted, good madam: the great rage, You see, is cur'd in him: and yet it is danger To make him even* o'er the time he has lost. Desire him to go in; trouble him no more, Till further settling.

Cor. Will't please your highness walk?

* To reconcile it to its apprehension.