Glo.

Here is better than the open Air, take it thankfully: I will piece out the comfort with what addition I can; I will not be long from you.

Kent.

All the power of his wits has given way to his impatience: the gods reward your kindness!

Edg.

Fraterreto calls me, and tells me, Nero is an angler in the lake of darkness: pray innocent, and beware the foul fiend.(32) ^note

Fool.

Pr'ythee, nuncle, tell me, whether a madman be a gentleman, or a yeoman?

Lear.

A King, a King.

Fool.

No, he's a yeoman that has a gentleman to his son: for he's a mad yeoman, that sees his son a gentleman before him.

Lear.
To have a thousand with red burning spits
Come hizzing in upon 'em—

Edg.

The foul fiend bites my back.

Fool.

He's mad that trusts in the tameness of a wolf, the health of a horse, the love of a boy, or the oath of a whore.

Lear.
It shall be done, I will arraign 'em strait.
Come sit thou here, most learned justicer;
Thou sapient Sir, sit here—now, ye she-foxes!—

Edg.
Look, where she stands and glares. Wantest thou eyes
At tryal, Madam?

Come o'er the Broom, Bessy, to me. Fool.
Her Boat hath a Leak, and she must not speak
Why she dares not come over to thee.

Edg.

The foul fiend haunts poor Tom in the voice of a nightingale. Hopdance cries in Tom's belly for two white herrings. Croak not black angel, I have no food for thee.

Kent.
How do you, Sir? stand you not so amaz'd;
Will you lye down, and rest upon the Cushions?

Lear.
I'll see their tryal first, bring me in the evidence.
Thou robed man of justice, take thy place;
And thou his yoke-fellow of equity,
Bench by his side. You are o'th' commission, sit you too.

Edg.
Let us deal justly.—

Sleepest, or wakest thou, jolly Shepherd?
  Thy Sheep be in the Corn;
And for one Blast of thy minikin Mouth,
  Thy Sheep shall take no Harm.
Purre, the Cat, is grey.

Lear.

Arraign her first, 'tis Gonerill. I here take my Oath before this honourable Assembly, she kick'd the poor King her Father.

Fool.

Come hither, Mistress, is your name Gonerill?

Lear.

She cannot deny it.

Fool.

Cry you mercy, I took you for a Joint-stool.

Lear.
And here's another, whose warpt Looks proclaim
What store her Heart is made of. Stop her there;
Arms, arms, sword, fire,—Corruption in the place!
False justicer, why hast thou let her scape?

Edg.
Bless thy five wits.

Kent.
O pity! Sir, where is the patience now,
That you so oft have boasted to retain?

Edg.
My tears begin to take his part so much,
They mar my counterfeiting. [Aside.

Lear.
The little dogs and all,
Tray, Blanch, and Sweet-heart; see, they bark at me—

Edg.
Tom will throw his head at them; avaunt, you curs!
Be thy mouth or black or white,
Tooth that poisons if it bite;
Mastiff, grey-hound, mungril grim,
Hound or spaniel, brache, or hym;
Or bobtail tike, or trundle-tail,
Tom will make him weep and wail:
For, with throwing thus my head,
Dogs leap the hatch, and all are fled.
Do, de, de, de: Sessey, come, march to wakes and fairs,
And market towns; poor Tom, thy horn is dry.

Lear.

Then let them anatomize. Regan—see what breeds about her heart—Is there any cause in nature that makes these hard hearts? You, Sir, I entertain for one of my hundred; only, I do not like the fashion of your garments. You will say, they are Persian; but let them be chang'd.

Kent.
Now, good my lord, lye here and rest a while.

Lear.
Make no noise, make no noise, draw the curtains;
So, so, we'll go to supper i'th' morning.

Fool.
And I'll go to bed at noon.

Glo.
Come hither, friend; where is the King, my master?

Kent.
Here, Sir, but trouble him not; his wits are gone.

Glo.
Good friend, I pr'ythee, take him in thy arms:
I have o'er-heard a plot of death upon him:
There is a litter ready, lay him in't,
And drive towr'd Dover, friend, where thou shalt meet
Both welcome and protection. Take up thy master.
If thou should'st dally half an hour, his life,
With thine, and all that offer to defend him,
Stand in assured loss. Take up, take up,
And follow me, that will to some provision
Give thee quick conduct.

Kent.
Opprest Nature sleeps:(33) ^note
This Rest might yet have balm'd thy broken Senses,
Which, if Conveniency will not allow,
Stand in hard Cure. Come, help to bear thy Master;
Thou must not stay behind. [To Fool.

Glost.
Come, come, away. [Exeunt, bearing off the King. Manet Edgar.

Edg.
When we our Betters see bearing our Woes,
We scarcely think our Miseries our Foes.
Who alone suffers, suffers most i'th' Mind;
Leaving free things, and happy Shows behind:
But then the Mind much Suff'rance does o'erskip,
When Grief hath Mates, and Bearing Fellowship.
How light, and portable, my pain seems now,
When That, which makes me bend, makes the King bow;
He childed, as I father'd!—Tom, away;
Mark the high Noises, and thyself bewray,
When false Opinion, whose wrong Thought defiles thee,
In thy just Proof repeals, and reconciles thee.

What will, hap more to Night; safe scape the King!
Lurk, Lurk.— [Exit Edgar.

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