Before Gloucester's Castle.
 KENT in the Stocks.
 Enter LEAR, FOOL, and 1st GENTLEMAN.

Lear	'Tis strange that they should so depart from home,
	And not send back my messenger.

1st Gentleman									As I learned,
	The night before there was no purpose in them
	Of this remove.

Kent						Hail to thee, noble master!

Lear	Ha!
	Mak'st thou this shame thy pastime?

Kent										No, my lord.

Fool	Ha, ha, he wears cruel garters! Horses are tied by the 
	heads, dogs and bears by th'neck, monkeys by th'loins, and 
	men by th'legs: when a man's overlusty at legs then he 
	wears wooden nether-stocks.

Lear	What's he that hath so much thy place mistook
	To set thee here?

Kent						It is both he and she,
	Your son and daughter.

Lear							No.

Kent								Yes.

Lear										No, I say.

Kent	I say, yea.

Lear	No, no, they would not.

Kent	Yes, they have.

Lear					By Jupiter, I swear, no.

Kent	By Juno, I swear, ay.

Lear							They durst not do't;
	They could not, would not do't; 'tis worse than murder
	To do upon respect such violent outrage.
	Resolve me with all modest haste which way
	Thou mightst deserve, or they impose, this usage,
	Coming from us.

Kent						My lord, when at their home
	I did commend your highness' letters to them,
	Ere I was risen from the place that showed
	My duty kneeling, came there a reeking post,
	Stewed in his haste, half breathless, panting forth
	From Goneril his mistress salutations;
	Delivered letters, spite of intermission,
	Which presently they read; on whose contents
	They summoned up their meiny, straight took horse,
	Commanded me to follow and attend
	The leisure of their answer; gave me cold looks;
	And meeting here the other messenger,
	Whose welcome, I perceived, had poisoned mine,
	Being the very fellow which of late
	Displayed so saucily against your highness,
	Having more man than wit about me, drew.
	He raised the house with loud and coward cries.
	Your son and daughter found this trespass worth
	The shame which here it suffers.

Fool	Winter's not gone yet if the wild-geese fly that way.

	[Sings.]	Fathers that wear rags
				Do make their children blind,
			But fathers that bear bags
				Shall see their children kind.
			Fortune, that arrant whore,
			Ne'er turns the key to th'poor.

	But, for all this, thou shalt have as many dolours for thy 
	daughters as thou canst tell in a year.

Lear	O, how this mother swells up toward my heart!
	Hysterica passio, down, thou climbing sorrow,
	Thy element's below. Where is this daughter?

Kent	With the earl, sir, here within.

Lear	[To 1st GENTLEMAN.] Follow me not; stay here.
												[Exit.
1st Gentleman	Made you no more offence but what you speak of?

Kent	None.
	How chance the king comes with so small a number?

Fool	An thou hadst been set i'th'stocks for that question, 
	thou'dst well deserved it.

Kent	Why, Fool?

Fool	We'll set thee to school to an ant to teach thee there's no 
	labouring i'th'winter. All that follow their noses are led 
	by their eyes but blind men; and there's not a nose among 
	twenty but can smell him that's stinking. Let go thy hold 
	when a great wheel runs down a hill, lest it break thy neck 
	with following; but the great one that goes upward, let him 
	draw thee after. When a wise man gives thee better counsel, 
	give me mine again; I would have none but knaves follow it, 
	since a Fool gives it.

	[Sings.]	That sir which serves and seeks for gain,
				And follows but for form,
			Will pack when it begins to rain,
				And leave thee in the storm.
			But I will tarry, the Fool will stay,
				And let the wise man fly.
			The knave turns Fool that runs away;
				The Fool no knave, perdy.

Kent	Where learned you this, Fool?

Fool	Not i'th'stocks, fool.

                     Re-enter LEAR, with GLOUCESTER.

Lear	Deny to speak with me? They are 'sick'! They are 'weary'!
	They have 'travelled all the night'! Mere fetches,
	The images of revolt and flying-off.
	Fetch me a better answer.

Gloucester								My dear lord,
	You know the fiery quality of the duke,
	How unremovable and fixed he is
	In his own course.

Lear	Vengeance, plague, death, confusion!
	Fiery? What quality? Why, Gloucester, Gloucester,
	I'd speak with the Duke of Cornwall and his wife.

Gloucester	Well, my good lord, I have informed them so.

Lear	Informed them! Dost thou understand me, man?

Gloucester	Ay, my good lord.

Lear	The king would speak with Cornwall; the dear father
	Would with his daughter speak, commands, tends service.
	Are they informed of this? My breath and blood!
	Fiery! The fiery duke! Tell the hot duke that-
	No, but not yet; maybe he is not well.
	Infirmity doth still neglect all office
	Whereto our health is bound; we are not ourselves
	When nature, being oppressed, commands the mind
	To suffer with the body. I'll forbear;
	And am fallen out with my more headier will
	To take the indisposed and sickly fit
	For the sound man.
												[Looking on Kent.
						Death on my state! Wherefore
	Should he sit here? This act persuades me
	That this remotion of the duke and her
	Is practice only. Give me my servant forth.
	Go tell the duke and's wife I'd speak with them.
	Now, presently. Bid them come forth and hear me,
	Or at their chamber door I'll beat the drum
	Till it cry sleep to death.

Gloucester	I would have all well betwixt you.
												[Exit.
Lear	O me, my heart, my rising heart! But, down!

Fool	Cry to it, Nuncle, as the cockney did to the eels when she 
	put 'em i'th'paste alive. She knapped 'em o'th'coxcombs 
	with a stick and cried 'Down, wantons, down!' 'Twas her 
	brother that, in pure kindness to his horse, buttered his 
	hay.

         Re-enter GLOUCESTER, with CORNWALL, REGAN, and SERVANTS.

Lear	Good morrow to you both.

Cornwall							Hail to your grace!
												[KENT is set at liberty.

Regan	I am glad to see your highness.

Lear	Regan, I think you are. I know what reason
	I have to think so: if thou shouldst not be glad
	I would divorce me from thy mother's tomb,
	Sepulchring an adult'ress. [To KENT.] O, are you free?
	Some other time for that.-Belovd Regan,
	Thy sister's naught. O Regan, she hath tied
	Sharp-toothed unkindness, like a vulture, here.
												[Pointing to his heart.
	I can scarce speak to thee; thou'lt not believe
	With how depraved a quality-O Regan!

Regan	I pray you, sir, take patience. I have hope
	You less know how to value her desert
	Than she to scant her duty.

Lear								Say, how is that?

Regan	I cannot think my sister in the least
	Would fail her obligation. If, sir, perchance
	She have restrained the riots of your followers,
	'Tis on such ground and to such wholesome end
	As clears her from all blame.

Lear	My curses on her!

Regan						O, sir, you are old;
	Nature in you stands on the very verge
	Of her confine. You should be ruled and led
	By some discretion that discerns your state
	Better than you yourself. Therefore I pray you
	That to our sister you do make return;
	Say you have wronged her.

Lear							Ask her forgiveness?
	Do you but mark how this becomes the house:
	'Dear daughter, I confess that I am old;
	Age is unnecessary;
												[Kneeling.
							on my knees I beg
	That you'll vouchsafe me raiment, bed, and food.'

Regan	Good sir, no more; these are unsightly tricks.
	Return you to my sister.

Lear	[Rising.]					Never, Regan.
	She hath abated me of half my train,
	Looked black upon me, struck me with her tongue,
	Most serpentlike, upon the very heart.
	All the stored vengeances of heaven fall
	On her ingrateful top! Strike her young bones,
	You taking airs, with lameness!

Cornwall									Fie, sir, fie!

Lear	You nimble lightnings, dart your blinding flames
	Into her scornful eyes! Infect her beauty,
	You fen-sucked fogs drawn by the powerful sun,
	To fall and blister!

Regan	O the blest gods! So will you wish on me
	When the rash mood is on.

Lear	No, Regan, thou shalt never have my curse;
	Thy tender-hefted nature shall not give
	Thee o'er to harshness. Her eyes are fierce, but thine
	Do comfort and not burn. 'Tis not in thee
	To grudge my pleasures, to cut off my train,
	To bandy hasty words, to scant my sizes,
	And, in conclusion, to oppose the bolt
	Against my coming in. Thou better know'st
	The offices of nature, bond of childhood,
	Effects of courtesy, dues of gratitude.
	Thy half o'th'kingdom hast thou not forgot,
	Wherein I thee endowed.

Regan							Good sir, to th'purpose.

Lear	Who put my man i'th'stocks?
												[Tucket within.
Cornwall								What trumpet's that?

Regan	I know't my sister's. This approves her letter,
	That she would soon be here.

                              Enter OSWALD.

									Is your lady come?

Lear	This is a slave whose easy-borrowed pride
	Dwells in the fickle grace of her he follows.
	Out, varlet, from my sight!

Cornwall								What means your grace?

Lear	Who stocked my servant? Regan, I have good hope
	Thou didst not know on't. Who comes here?

                              Enter GONERIL.

										O heavens,
	If you do love old men, if your sweet sway
	Allow obedience, if you yourselves are old,
	Make it your cause; send down and take my part!
	[To GONERIL.] Art not ashamed to look upon this beard?
	O Regan, will you take her by the hand?

Goneril	Why not by th'hand, sir? How have I offended?
	All's not offence that indiscretion finds
	And dotage terms so.

Lear							O sides, you are too tough!
	Will you yet hold? How came my man i'th'stocks?

Cornwall	I set him there, sir; but his own disorders
	Deserved much less advancement.

Lear	You, did you?

Regan	I pray you, father, being weak, seem so.
	If till the expiration of your month,
	You will return and sojourn with my sister,
	Dismissing half your train, come then to me.
	I am now from home, and out of that provision
	Which shall be needful for your entertainment.

Lear	Return to her, and fifty men dismissed?
	No, rather I abjure all roofs, and choose
	To wage against the enmity o'th'air,
	To be a comrade with the wolf and owl-
	Necessity's sharp pinch! Return with her!
	Why, the hot-blooded France that dowerless took
	Our youngest born, I could as well be brought
	To knee his throne and, squire-like, pension beg
	To keep base life afoot. Return with her!
	Persuade me rather to be slave and sumpter
	To this detested groom.
												[Pointing at OSWALD.
Goneril								At your choice, sir.

Lear	I prithee, daughter, do not make me mad.
	I will not trouble thee, my child; farewell.
	We'll no more meet, no more see one another.
	But yet thou art my flesh, my blood, my daughter;
	Or rather a disease that's in my flesh,
	Which I must needs call mine-thou art a boil,
	A plague-sore, or embossd carbuncle,
	In my corrupted blood. But I'll not chide thee;
	Let shame come when it will, I do not call it.
	I do not bid the thunder-bearer shoot,
	Nor tell tales of thee to high-judging Jove.
	Mend when thou canst; be better at thy leisure;
	I can be patient; I can stay with Regan,
	I and my hundred knights.

Regan								Not altogether so.
	I looked not for you yet, nor am provided
	For your fit welcome. Give ear, sir, to my sister;
	For those that mingle reason with your passion
	Must be content to think you old, and so-
	But she knows what she does.

Lear										Is this well spoken?

Regan	I dare avouch it, sir. What, fifty followers?
	Is it not well? What should you need of more?
	Yea, or so many, sith that both charge and danger
	Speak 'gainst so great a number? How, in one house,
	Should many people under two commands
	Hold amity? 'Tis hard; almost impossible.

Goneril	Why might not you, my lord, receive attendance
	From those that she calls servants, or from mine?

Regan	Why not, my lord? If then they chanced to slack ye
	We could control them. If you will come to me,
	For now I spy a danger, I entreat you
	To bring but five-and-twenty; to no more
	Will I give place or notice.

Lear	I gave you all-

Regan						And in good time you gave it.

Lear	Made you my guardians, my depositaries,
	But kept a reservation to be followed
	With such a number. What, must I come to you
	With five-and-twenty? Regan, said you so?

Regan	And speak't again, my lord. No more with me.

Lear	Those wicked creatures yet do look well-favoured
	When others are more wicked; not being the worst
	Stands in some rank of praise.
						[To GONERIL.] I'll go with thee;
	Thy fifty yet doth double five-and-twenty,
	And thou art twice her love.

Goneril									Hear me, my lord;
	What need you five-and-twenty, ten, or five,
	To follow, in a house where twice so many
	Have a command to tend you?

Regan									What need one?

Lear	O reason not the need! Our basest beggars
	Are in the poorest thing superfluous.
	Allow not nature more than nature needs,
	Man's life is cheap as beast's. Thou art a lady;
	If only to go warm were gorgeous,
	Why, nature needs not what thou gorgeous wear'st,
	Which scarcely keeps thee warm. But, for true need-
	You heavens, give me that patience, patience I need!
	You see me here, you gods, a poor old man
	As full of grief as age; wretched in both.
	If it be you that stirs these daughters' hearts
	Against their father, fool me not so much
	To bear it tamely; touch me with noble anger,
	And let not women's weapons, water drops,
	Stain my man's cheeks. 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. You think I'll weep.
	No, I'll not weep.
												[Storm and tempest heard.
	I have full cause of weeping, but this heart
	Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws
	Or ere I'll weep. O Fool, I shall go mad.
												[Exeunt LEAR, GLOUCESTER,
												KENT, FOOL, and GENTLEMAN.

Cornwall	Let us withdraw; 'twill be a storm.

Regan	This house is little; the old man and's people
	Cannot be well bestowed.

Goneril	'Tis his own blame; hath put himself from rest,
	And must needs taste his folly.

Regan	For his particular I'll receive him gladly,
	But not one follower.

Goneril								So am I purposed.
	Where is my Lord of Gloucester?

Cornwall	Followed the old man forth.

                           Re-enter GLOUCESTER.

										He is returned.

Gloucester	The king is in high rage.

Cornwall								Whither is he going?

Gloucester	He calls to horse; but will I know not whither.

Cornwall	'Tis best to give him way; he leads himself.

Goneril	My lord, entreat him by no means to stay.

Gloucester	Alack, the night comes on, and the bleak winds
	Do sorely ruffle; for many miles about
	There's scarce a bush.

Regan								O sir, to wilful men
	The injuries that they themselves procure
	Must be their schoolmasters. Shut up your doors;
	He is attended with a desperate train,
	And what they may incense him to, being apt
	To have his ear abused, wisdom bids fear.

Cornwall	Shut up your doors, my lord, 'tis a wild night;
	My Regan counsels well. Come out o'th'storm.
												[Exeunt.
