Lear. Who put my man i'th' stocks?

Corn. What trumpet's that?

[Trumpet sounds, L.

Reg. I know't, my sister's; this confirms her letters.

Enter OSWALD, L.

Sir, is your lady come?

Lear. More torture still!

Out, varlet, from my sight!

[Strikes OSWALD: who crosses towards KENT,
KENT threatens him; he then escapes, R.U.E.
crying out.

Corn. What means your grace?
Lear. Who stock'd my servant?

Thou didst not know it.

Regan, I have hope [Trumpet sounds.

Enter GONERIL, Page, two Ladies, Guards and two

Banners, L.

Who comes here? Oh, heav'ns!

[Crosses to R.

If you do love old men; if your sweet sway

Allow obedience; if yourselves are old,

Make it your cause [To GONERIL]: send down, and take my part! (c.)

Why, Gorgon, dost thou come to haunt me here?

[To GONERIL. Art not asham'd to look upon this beard?

[REGAN takes GONERIL by the hand. Darkness upon my eyes, they play me false !O, Regan! wilt thou take her by the hand?

Gon. Why not by th' hand, sir? [Crosses to LEAR.]
How have I offended?

All's not offence that indiscretion finds,

And dotage terins so.

Lear (c.) Heart, thou art too tough!

Reg. I pray you, sir, being old, confess you are so, If, till the expiration of your month,

You will return, and sojourn with our sister,
Dismissing half your train, come then to me :
I'm now from home, and out of that provision
That shall be needful for your entertainment.

Lear. Return with her, and fifty knights dismiss'd? No, rather I'll abjure all roofs, amd choose

To be companion to the midnight wolf,

My naked head expos'd to th' merciless air,

[Throws down his hat, KENT takes it up.

Than have my smallest wants supply'd by her.
Gon. At your choice, sir.

Lear. Now, I pr'ythee, daughter, do not make me mad!

I will not trouble thee, my child; farewell;
Let shame come when it will, I do not call it ;

I do not bid the thunder-bearer strike,

Nor tell tales of thee to avenging heaven.

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

I, and my hundred knights.

Reg. Your pardon, sir;

I looked not for you yet, nor am provided
For your fit welcome.

Lear. Is this well spoken now?

Reg. My sister treats you fair. What! fifty followers? Is it not well? What should you need of more?

Gon. Why might not you, my lord, receive attendance From those whom she calls servants, or from mine? Reg. Why not, my lord? If then they chance to slack you,

We could control them.-If you come to me,

For now I see the danger, I intreat you

To bring but five-and-twenty; to no more

Will I give place.

Lear. I gave you all!

Reg. And in good time you gave it.

Lear. Hold now, my temper, stand this bolt unmov'd,

And I am thunder-proof.

Gon. (L.) Hear me, my lord.

[It begins to rain.

What need you five-and-twenty, ten, or five,

To follow in a house, where twice so many
Have a command t'attend you?

Reg. (R.) What need one?

[Distant thunder.

Lear. (c.) Heav'ns, drop your patience down!
You see me here, ye gods, a poor old man,
As full of grief as age, wretched in both!
If it be you that stir these daughters' hearts
Against their father, fool me not so much
To bear it tamely; touch me with noble anger!
O, let not women's weapons, water drops,

C

Stain my man's cheek!-No, you unnatural hags,
I will have such revenges on you both,

That all the world shall-I will do such things,
What they are, yet I know not; but they shall be
The terrors of the earth.-[Crosses to L.]—You think
I'll weep;

No, I'll not weep:

I have full cause of weeping; but this heart
Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws,
Or ere I'll weep.-

O, gods, I shall go mad!

[Rain and thunder.

[Exeunt KING Lear, Kent, Knights, CORNWALL, REGAN, GONERIL, GLOSTER, OsWALD, and Attendunts, into the Castle, L.

END OF ACT II.

ACT III.

SCENE I-A Desert Heath.-Stage darkened.— Rain, Thunder, and Lightning.

Enter LEAR and KENT, L. S. E.

Lear. (c.) Blow, wind, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow!

You cataracts, and hurricanoes, spout

"Till you have drench'd our steeples!

You sulph'rous and thought-executing fires,

Vaunt couriers to oak-cleaving thunder-bolts,

Singe my white head! And thou, all shaking thunder, Strike flat the thick rotundity o' the world!

Crack nature's moulds, all germens spill at once,

That make ingrateful man!

Kent. (L. c.) Not all my best intreaties can persuade him

Into some needful shelter, or to 'bide

This poor slight cov'ring on his aged head,

Exposed to this wild war of earth and heav'n. [Thunder, lightning, and rain. Lear. Rumble thy fill! fight whirlwind, rain, and

fire!

Not fire, wind, rain, or thunder, are my daughters:
I tax not you, ye elements, with unkindness;
I never gave you kingdoms, called you children;
You owe me no obedience.-Then let fall

Your horrible pleasure!-Here I stand your slave,
A poor, infirm, weak, and despis'd old man.—

[Rain, thunder, and lightning.

Yet I will call you servile ministers,

That have with two pernicious daughters join'd
Your high engender'd battle 'gainst a head
So old and white as this. Oh! oh! 'tis foul!
Kent. Hard by, sir, is a hovel, that will lend
Some shelter from this tempest.

Lear. I will forget my nature. What! so kind a
father!-

Ay, there's the point. [Rain, thunder, and lightning. Kent. (c.) Consider, good my liege, things that love night,

Love not such nights as this; these wrathful skies
Gallow the very wanderers of the dark,

And make them keep their caves: such drenching rain,
Such sheets of fire, such claps of horrid thunder,
Such groans of roaring winds, have ne'er been known.
[Thunder very loud.

Lear. Let the great gods,

That keep this dreadful pother o'er our heads,

Find out their enemies now. Tremble, thou wretch,
That hast within thee undiscovered crimes!-

Hide, hide, thou murd'rer, hide thy bloody hand!-
Thou perjur'd villain, holy hypocrite,

That drink'st the widow's tears, sigh now, and ask
These dreadful summoners grace !-I am a man
More sinn'd against, than sinning.
Kent. Good sir, to th' hovel.

Lear. (R.) My wits begin to turn.

[Crosses to R.

[Lightning, R.

Come on, my boy: How dost, my boy? art cold?

I'm cold myself: shew me this straw, my fellow;
The art of our necessity is strange,

And can make vile things precious-My poor knave,
Cold as I am at heart, I've one place there

That's sorry yet for thee.

[Rain-Thunder-Lightning.—Exeunt, R.

SCENE II.-A Room in Gloster's Castle.

Enter EDMUND, R.

Edm. The storm is in our louder rev'lings drown'd.
Thus would I reign, could I but mount a throne.
The riots of these proud imperial sisters
Already have impos'd the galling yoke
Of taxes, and hard impositions, on

The drudging peasant's neck, who bellows out
His loud complaints in vain.-Triumphant queens!
With what assurance do they tread the crowd!
Oh! for a taste of such majestic beauty,
Which none but my hot veins are fit t'engage:
Nor are my wishes desp'rate; for ev'n now,
During the banquet, I observ'd their glances
Shot thick at me; and, as they left the room,
Each cast, by stealth, a kind inviting smile,
The happy earnest-ha!

Enter two Pages from opposite sides, cach deliver him a letter, and exeunt, R. and L.

[Reads.] "Where merit is so transparent, not to behold it were blindness, and not to reward it, ingratitude. "GONERIL."

Enough! blind and ungrateful should I be,
Not to obey the summons of this oracle.
Now for the second letter.

[Reads.] "If modesty be not your enemy, doubt not

to find me your friend.

Excellent Sibil! O, my glowing blood!

I am already sick with expectation,

"REGAN."

And pant for the possession.-Here Gloster comes,
With business on his brow; be hush'd, my joys.

Enter GLOSTER, L.

Glost. (L.) I come to seek thee, Edmund, to impart a business of importance. I know thy loyal heart is touched to see the cruelty of these ungrateful daughters against our royal master.

Edm. Most savage and unnatural.

Glost. Thou, Edmund, art my trusty emissary.

Haste on the spur, at the first break of day,
With these dispatches to the Duke of Cambray.

[Gives him letlers.