Kent. Sir I do know you,

And dare vpon the warrant of my arte,

Commend a deare thing to you, there is diuifion,
Although as yet the face of it be couer'd

With mutuall cunning, twixt Albany and Cornwall.
But true it is, from France there comes a power

Into this scatterd kingdom, who already wife in our negligence
Haue fecret fee in fome of our best ports,

And are at point to fhew their open banner,

Now to you, if on my credite you dare build fo farre,

To make your speed to Douer, you shall finde

Some that will thanke you, making iuft report
Of how vnnaturall and bemadding forrow
The king hath caufe to plaine;

I am a gentleman of blood and breeding,
And from fome knowledge and affurance,
Offer this office to you.

Gent. I will talke farther with you.

Kent. No do not,

For confirmation that I much more

Then my outwall, open this purfe and take
What it containes, if you fhall fee Cordelia,
As doubt not but you fhall, fhew her this ring,
And she will tell you who your fellow is,

That yet you do not know, fie on this storme,

I will go feeke the king.

Gent. Giue me your hand, haue you no more to say?
Kent. Few words, but to effect more then all yet,

That when we haue found the king,

Ile this way, you that, he that first lights

On him, hollow the other.

K 4

Exeunt.

Enter

Enter Lear and Foole.

Lear. Blow winde and cracke your checkes, rage, blow
Your carterickes, and hircanios fpout till you haue drencht
The steeples, drownd the cockes, you fulpherous and
Thought executing fires, vaunt-currers to
Oke-cleauing thunder-bolts, fing my white head,
And thou all fhaking thunder, fmite flat

The thicke rotundity of the world, cracke natures
Mold, all germains fpill at once that make
Ingratefull man.

Foole. O nunckle, court holy water in a dry house
Is better then this raine water out a doore,
Good nunckle in, and afke thy daughters bleffing,
Here's a night pitties neyther wife man nor foole.
Lear. Rumble thy belly full, fpit fire, fpout raine,
Nor raine, winde, thunder, fire, are my daughters,
I take not you, you elements with vnkindnesse,
I neuer gaue you kingdome, cald you children,

You owe me no fubfcription; why then let fall your horrible
Pleasure, here I stand your flaue, a poore, infirme, weake, and
Defpifed old man, but yet I call you feruile

Ministers, that haue with two pernitious daughters ioyn'd Your high engendered battell gainst a head fo old and white As this, O tis foule.

Foole. He that has a houfe to put his head in, has a good head peece, the codpeece that will houfe before the head, has any the head and he fhall lowfe, fo beggers marry many, the man that makes his toe, what he his heart fhould make, shall haue a corne cry woe, and turne his fleepe to wake, for there was neuer yet faire woman, but she made mouthes in a glasfe, Lear. No, I will be the patterne of all patience,

I will fay nothing.

Enter

Kent. Who's there?

Enter Kent.

Foole. Marry heere's grace and a codpis, that's a wiseman and a foole.

Kent. Alaffe fir, fit you heere?

Things that loue night, loue not fuch nights as these ;
The wrathfull skies gallow, the very wanderer of the
Darke, and makes them keepe their caues,

Since I was man, fuch fheetes of fire,

Such burfts of horrid thunder, fuch grones of
Roring winde and raine, I nere remember

To haue heard, mans nature cannot carry
The affliction, nor the force.

Lear. Let the great gods that keepe this dreadfull

Thundring ore our heads, finde out their enemies now,
Tremble thou wretch that hast within thee
Vadivulged crimes, vnwhipt of iustice,

Hide thee thou bloudy hand, thou periur'd, and
Thou fimular man of vertue that art inceftious,
Caytiffe in peeces fhake, that vnder couert

And conuenient feeming, haft practifed on mans life,
Clofe pent vp guilts, riue your concealed centers,
And cry these dreadfull fummoners grace,

I am a man more find against their finning.

Kent. Alacke bare headed, gracious my lord, hard by here is a houell, fome friendship will it lend you gainst the tempeft, repose you there, whilft I to this hard houfe, more hard then is the stone whereof tis rais'd, which euen but now demanding after me, denide me to come in, returne and force their fcanted curtefie.

Lear. My wit begins to turne,

Come on my boy, how doft my boy, art cold?
I am cold my felfe, where is this ftraw my fellow,

The

The art of our neceffities is ftrange, that can
Make vilde things precious, come you houell poore,
Foole and knaue, I haue one part of my heart

That forrowes yet for thee,

Foole. He that has a little tine wit, with hey ho the winde and the raine, must make content with his fortunes fit, for the raine, it raineth euery day.

Lear. True my good boy, come bring vs to this houell.

Enter Glocefter, and the baftard with lights.

Gloft. Alacke, alacke, Edmund I like not this Vnnaturall dealing, when I defired their leaue That I might pitty him, they tooke from me The vfe of mine owne houfe, chargd me on paine Of their displeasure, neither to fpeake of him,

&

Entreate for him, nor any way fuftaine him.

Baft. Moft fauage and vnnaturall,

(the dukes,

Gloft. Go too, fay you nothing, there's a diuifion betwixt
And a worse matter then that, I haue receiued
A letter this night, tis dangerous to be spoken,
I haue lockt the letter in my closet, these iniuries
The king now beares, will be reuenged home;
There's part of a power already landed,

We must incline to the king, I will feeke him,
And priuily releeue him; go you and maintaine talke
With the duke, that my charity be not of him
Perceived; if he afke for me, I am ill, and gone

To bed, though I die for it, as no lesse is threatned me,
The king my old master must be releeued, there is
Some strange thing toward, Edmund, pray you be carefull.

Exit.

Baft. This courtefie forbid thee, fhall the duke inftantly And of that letter to, this feemes a faire deferuing,

(know, And

And muft draw to me that which my father lofes, no leffe
Then all, then yonger rifes, when the old do fall.

Enter Lear, Kent, and Foole.

Exit.

Kent. Here is the place my lord, good my lord enter, the tirrany of the open night's too ruffe for nature to endure. Lear. Let me alone.

Kent. Good my lord enter.

Lear. Wilt breake my heart?

Kent. I had rather breake mine owne, good my lord enter. Lear. Thou thinkft tis much, that this crulentious storme Inuades us to the fkin, fo tis to thee,

But where the greater malady is fixt,

The leffer is fcarfe felt, thou wouldst fhun a beare,

But if thy flight lay toward the raging fea,,

Thoud'ft meete the beare i'th mouth, when the mind's free,
The bodies delicate, the tempeft in my minde,
Doth from my fences take all feeling else,
Saue what beares their filiall ingratitude,

Is it not as this mouth fhould teare this hand
For lifting food to it? but I will punish fure;

1

No I will weepe no more; in fuch a night as this!

O Regan, Gonorill, your old kinde father

Whose franke heart gaue you all, O that way madneffe lies,

Let me hunne that, no more of that.

Kent. Good my lord enter.

Lear. Prethee go in thy felfe, feeke thy owne eafe,

This tempeft will not giue me leaue to ponder
On things would hurt me more, but Ile go in,
Poore naked wretches, where fo ere you are
That bide the pelting of this pittileffe night,
How fhall your house-leffe heads, and vnfed fides,

Your