That to our fifter you do make return, 6 Do you but mark how this 'becometh us:` Dear daughter, I confess that I am old; [The King kneeling. Age is unneceflary: on my knees I beg, That you'll vouchsafe me raiment, bed, and food. Reg. Good Sir, no more; these are unfightly tricks: Return you to my fifter. Lear. Never, Regan: She hath abated me of half my train; Look'd black upon me, ftruck me with her tongue All the ftor'd vengeances of heaven fall On her ingrateful head! ftrike her young bones, Corn. Fie, Sir! fie! Lear. You nimble lightnings, dart your blinding flames Into her fcornful eyes! infect her beauty, You fen-fuck'd fogs, drawn by the pow'rful fun Reg. O the bleft Gods! So will you wifh on me, when the rafh mood is on. Thee o'er to harshness; her eyes are fierce, but thine Reg. Good Sir, to th' purpose. 6 becomes the house or becomes the ufe: [Trumpet within. Enter Enter Steward. Corn. What trumpet's that? Reg. I know't, my fifter's: this approves her letter, That the would foon be here. Is your Lady come? Lear. This is a flave, whofe eafie-borrowed pride Dwells in the fickle grace of her he follows. Out, varlet, from my fight! Corn. What means your Grace? Lear. Who ftockt my fervant? Regan, I've good hope Thou didst not know on't.-Who comes here? Ö heav'ns! If you do love old men, if your sweet sway 7 'Hallow' obedience, if your felves are old, Make it your caufe; fend down and take my part! Art not afham'd to look upon this beard? O Regan, will you take her by the hand? Gon. Why not by th' hand, Sir? how have I offended? All's not offence that indifcretion finds, And dotage terms fo. Lear. O fides, you are too tough! Will you yet hold? how came my man i' th' Stocks? Corn. I fet him there, Sir: but his own diforders Deferv'd 'no' lefs advancement. Lear. You? did you? Reg. I pray you, father, being 'wake, seem so. D 7 allow... old edit. Warb, emend. 8 much No, - No, rather I abjure all roofs, and chuse Gon. At your choice, Sir. Lear. I pr'ythee, daughter, do not make me mad, Which I must needs call mine; thou art a bile, In my corrupted blood; but I'll not chide thee. Reg. Not all together, I look'd not for you yet, nor am provided Lear. Is this well spoken? Reg. I dare avouch it, Sir; what, fifty followers? 9 To wage againft the enmity o' th' air Should To be a comrade with the wolf and owl,... old edit. Theob. tranfp. Should many people under two commands Gon. Why might not you, my Lord, receive attendance From those that the calls fervants, or from mine? [ye, Reg. Why not, my Lord? if then they chanc'd to flack We could controll them; if you'll come to me, (For now I spy a danger) I intreat you To bring but five and twenty; to no more Lear. I gave you all — Reg. And in good time you gave it. Lear. Made you my guardians, my depofitaries, But kept a refervation to be follow'd With fuch a number; muft I come to you With five and twenty? Regan, faid you fo? Reg. And fpeak't again, my Lord, no more with me. Lear. Thofe wicked creatures yet do look well-favour'd When others are more wicked. Not being worft Stands in fome rank of praife; I'll go with thee, Thy fifty yet doth double five and twenty; Gon. Hear me, my Lord; [To Gonerill. What need you five and twenty? ten? or five? Reg. What needs one? Lear. O, reafon not the need: our bafeft beggars Are in the pooreft thing fuperfluous; Allow not nature more than nature needs, Man's life is cheap as beafts'. Thou art a Lady; Why, nature needs not what thou gorgeous wear'ft, D 2 Against Against their father, fool me not fo much That all the world fhall I will do fuch things, [Exeunt Lear, Glo'fter, Kent, and Fool. SCENE XII. Corn. Let us withdraw, 'twill be a ftorm. [Storm and Tempest. Reg. This houfe is fmall, the old man and his people Cannot be well beftow'd. Gon. 'Tis his own blame, he'ath put himself from rest, And muft needs tafte 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 Glo'fter? Enter Glo'fter. Corn. Follow'd the old man forth; he is return'd. 'Glo. The King is in high rage. Corn. Whither is he going? Glo. He calls to horfe: but will I know not whither.` Gon. My Lord, intreat him by no means to stay. Glo. Alack, the night comes on: and the high winds Do forely rufsle; for many miles about There's fcarce a bush. 1 I have 2 Glo. The King is in high rage, and will I know not whither. Reg. |