Your loopt and windowed raggedneffe defend you Foole. Come not in here nunckle, here's a fpirit, helpe me, help me. Kent. Giue me thy hand, who's there? Foole. A fpirit, he fayes his name is poore Tom. Kent. What art thou that doft grumble there in the straw? come foorth. Edg. Away, the foule fiend followes me, through the fharpe hathorne blowes the cold winde, goe to thy cold bed and warme thee. Lear. Haft thou giuen all to thy two daughters, and art thou come to this? Edg. Who giues any thing to poore Tom, whom the foule fiend hath led through fire, and throgh foord, and whirlipoole, ore bog and quagmire, that has laide kniues vnder his pillow, and halters in his pue, fet ratfbane by his pottage, made him proud of heart, to ride on a bay trotting horse ouer four incht bridges, to course his owne fhadow for a traitor, bleffe thy fiue wits, Toms a cold, bleffe thee from whirlewindes, ftarre-blufting, and taking, do poore Tom fome charity, whom the foule fiend vexes, there could I haue him now, and there, and there againe. Lear. What, his daughters brought him to this passe, Couldst thou faue nothing? didft thou giue them all? Foole. Nay he referued a blanket, elfe wee had beene all fhamed. Lear. Now all the plagues that in the pendulous ayre Hang fated ore mens faults, fall on thy daughters. Kent. He hath no daughters fir. Lear. Lear. Death traitor, nothing could haue fubdued nature, To fuch a lowneffe, but his vnkinde daughters, Is it the fashion that difcarded fathers, Should haue thus little mercy on their flesh, Begot those pelicane daughters. Edg. Pilicock fate on pelicocks hill, a lo lo lo. Foole. This cold night will turne vs all to fooles and mad men. Edg. Take heed of the foule fiend, obey thy parents, keepe thy words iuftly, fweare not, commit not with mans fworne fpoufe, fet not thy fweet heart on proud array; Toms a cold. Lear. What haft thou beene? Edg. A feruingman, proud in heart and minde, that curlde my haire, wore gloues in my cap, ferued the luft of my miftris heart, and did the acte of darkneffe with her, fwore as many oaths as I fpake words, and broke them in the sweete face of heauen, one that flept in the contriuing of luft, and wak't to do it, wine loued I deepely, dice dearely, and in woman, out paramord the Turke, falfe of heart, light of eare, bloudy of hand, hog in floth, fox in stealth, wolfe in greedineffe, dog, in madnesse, lyon in prey, let not the creeking of shooes, nor the rulings of filkes betray thy poore heart to women, keepe thy foote out of brothell, thy hand out of placket, thy pen from lenders booke, and defie the foule fiend, ftill through the hathorne blowes the colde winde, hay no on ny, dolphin my boy, my boy, ceafe let him trot by. Lear. Why thou wert better in thy graue, then to answer with thy vncouered body this extremity of the fkies; is man no more but this? confider him well, thou owest the worme no filke, the beaft no hide, the sheep no wooll, the cat no perfume, he'rs three ones are fophifticated, thou art the thing it felfe, vnaccommodated man is no more but fuch a poore bare bare forked animal as thou art, off, off you leadings, come on be true. Foole. Prithee nunckle be content, this is a naughty night to swim in, now a little fire in a wilde field, were like an old lechers heart, a small sparke, all the rest in body colde, looke here comes a walking fire. Enter Glocefter. Edg. This is the foule fiend Sirberdegibit, he begins at curfue, and walks till the firft cocke, he gins the web, the pinqueuer the eye, and makes the hart lip, mildewes the white wheate, and hurts the poore creature of earth, swithald footed thrice the olde anelthu night moore and her nine fold bid her, O light and her troth plight and arint thee, with arint thee. Kent. How fares your grace? Lear. What's he? Kent. Whofe there? what ist you feeke? Gloft What are you there? your names. Edg. Poore Tom, that eates the fwimming frog, the toade, the toade pold, the wall-wort, and the water, that in the fruite of his heart, when the foule fiend rages, Eates cowdung for fallets, fwallowes the old rat, and the ditch-dog, drinkes the greene mantle of the standing poole, who is whipt from tything to tything, and stock-punisht and imprifoned, who hath had three futes to his backe, fixe fhirts to his body, horse to ride, and weapon to weare. But mice and rats, and such small deere, Hath beene Toms food for feuen long yeare. Beware my follower, peace fnulbug, peace thou fiend. Edg. The prince of darknes is a gentleman, modo hee's called, and ma hu Gloft. Gloft. Our flesh and bloud is growne fo vilde my lord, that it doth hate what gets it. Edg. Poore Toms a colde. Gloft. Go in with me, my duty cannot suffer to obey in al your daughters hard commands, though their iniunction be to barre my doores, and let this tyranous night take hold vpon you, yet haue I venter'd to come feeke you out, and bring you where both food and fire is ready. Lear. First let me talke with this philosopher; What is the cause of thunder? Kent. My good lord take his offer, go into the house. Lear. Ile talke a word with this most learned Theban; what is your study? Edg. How to preuent the fiend, and to kill vermine. Lear. Let me aske you one word in priuate. Kent. Importune him to goe my lord, his wits begin to vnfettle. Gloft. Canft thou blame him? His daughters feeke his death. O that good Kent, I am almost mad myselfe; I had a fonne Now out-lawed from my bloud, he fought my life No father his fonne dearer, truth to tell thee, The greefe has craz'd my wits. What a night's this? I do befeech your grace. Lear. O cry you mercy noble philofopher, your company. Edg. Tom's a cold. Gloft. In fellow there, into th' houell, keepe thee warme. Lear. Come, let's in all. Kent. This way my lord. Lear, With him I will keepe ftill, with my philofopher. Kent. Kent. Good my lord footh him, let him take the fellow. Gloft. Take him you on. Kent. Sirra come on, go along with vs. Lear. Come good Athenian. Gloft. No words, no words, hush. Edg. Childe Rowland, to the darke towne come, His word was still fye, fo, and fum, I fmell the bloud of a Britifb man. Enter Cornwall and Baftard. Corn. I will haue my reuenge ere I depart the house. Baft. How my lord I may be cenfured, that nature thus giues way to loyalty, fome-thing feares me to thinke of. Corn. I now perceiue it was not altogether your brothers euil difpofition made him feeke his death, but a prouoking merit, fet a worke by a reproueable badnesse in himselfe. Baft. How malicious is my fortune, that I must repent to bee iuft? this is the letter he spoke off, which approues him an intelligent partie to the aduantages of France, O heauens, that his treason were, or not I the detecter. Corn. Go with me to the dutches. Baft. If the matter of this paper be certaine, you haue mighty bufineffe in hand. Corn. True or falfe, it hath made thee Earle of Glocefter, feeke out where thy father is, that he may be ready for our apprehenfion. Baft. If I finde him comforting the king, it will stuffe his fufpition more fully, I will perfeuere in my course of loyalty, thogh the conflict be fore betweene that and my bloud. Corn. I will lay truft vpon thee, and thou shalt finde a dearer father in my loue. Exit. Enter |