SCENE IV.
A part of the heath, with a hovel.
Enter Lear, Kent, and Fool.
Kent.
Here is the place, my lord; good my lord, enter:
The tyranny of the open night's too rough
For nature to endure.
[Storm still.
Lear.
Let me alone.
Kent.
Good my lord, enter here.
Lear.
Wilt break my heart?
Kent.
I'd rather break mine own: Good my lord, enter.
Lear.
Thou think'st 'tis much, that this contentious storm
Invades us to the skin: so 'tis to thee;
But where the greater malady is fix'd,
The lesser is scarce felt5 note
. Thou'dst shun a bear;
But if thy flight lay toward the 6 noteraging sea,
Thou'dst meet the bear i' the mouth. When the mind's free,
The body's delicate: the tempest in my mind
-- 463 --
Doth from my senses take all feeling else,
Save what beats there.—Filial ingratitude!
Is it not as this mouth should tear this hand,
For lifting food to't?—But I will punish home:—
No, I will weep no more.—In such a night7 note
To shut me out!—Pour on; I will endure:—
In such a night as this! O Regan, Goneril!—
Your old kind father, whose frank heart gave you all,—
O, that way madness lies; let me shun that;
No more of that,—
Kent.
Good my lord, enter here.
Lear.
Pr'ythee, go in thyself; seek thine own ease;
This tempest will not give me leave to ponder
On things would hurt me more.—But I'll go in:—
8 noteIn, boy: go first.—[To the Fool.] You houseless poverty,—
Nay, get thee in. I'll pray, and then I'll sleep.—
[Fool goes in.
Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are,
That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm,
How shall your houseless heads, and unfed sides,
Your loop'd and window'd raggedness9 note
, defend you
-- 464 --
From seasons such as these? O, I have ta'en
Too little care of this! Take physic, pomp;
Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel;
That thou may'st shake the superflux to them,
And shew the heavens more just.9Q1088
Edg. [within.]
Fathom and half1 note, fathom and half! Poor Tom!
Fool.
Come not in here, nuncle, here's a spirit.
Help me, help me!
[The Fool runs out from the hovel.
Kent.
Give me thy hand.—Who's there?
Fool.
A spirit, a spirit; he says his name's poor Tom.
Kent.
What art thou that dost grumble there i' the straw?
Come forth.
Enter Edgar, disguised as a madman.
Edg.
Away! the foul fiend follows me!—
Through the sharp hawthorn blows the cold wind.—
2 note
Humph! go to thy cold bed, and warm thee.
Lear.
Hast thou given all to thy two daughters3 note?
And art thou come to this?
Edg.
Who gives any thing to poor Tom? whom
the foul fiend hath 4 noteled through fire and through
flame, through ford and whirlpool, over bog and
-- 465 --
quagmire; that hath 5 note
laid knives under his pillow,
and halters in his pew; set ratsbane by his porridge;
made him proud of heart, to ride on a bay trotting
horse over four-inch'd bridges, to course his own
shadow for a traitor:—6 note
Bless thy five wits! Tom's
a-cold.—O, do de, do de, do de.—Bless thee from
-- 466 --
whirlwinds, star-blasting, and 7 note
taking! Do poor
Tom some charity, whom the foul fiend vexes:—
There could I have him now,—and there,—and
there,—and there again, and there.
[Storm still.
Lear.
What, have his daughters brought him to this pass?—
Could'st thou save nothing? Didst thou give them all?
Fool.
Nay, he reserv'd a blanket, else we had been
all shamed.
Lear.
Now, all the plagues that in the pendulous air
Hang fated o'er men's faults, light on thy daughters!
Kent.
He hath no daughters, sir.
Lear.
Death, traitor! nothing could have subdu'd nature
To such a lowness, but his unkind daughters.—
Is it the fashion, that discarded fathers
Should have thus little mercy on their flesh?
Judicious punishment! 'twas this flesh begot
Those 8 note
pelican daughters.
Edg.
Pillicock sat on pillicock-hill;—
Halloo, halloo, loo, loo!
Fool.
This cold night will turn us all to fools and
madmen.
Edg.
Take heed o' the foul fiend: Obey thy parents;
keep thy word justly; swear not; commit
-- 467 --
not9 note
with man's sworn spouse; set not thy sweet
heart on proud array:—Tom's a-cold.
Lear.
What hast thou been?
Edg.
A serving-man, proud in heart and mind;
that curl'd my hair, 1 note
wore gloves in my cap, serv'd the
lust of my mistress's heart, and did the act of darkness
with her: swore as many oaths as I spake words, and
broke them in the sweet face of heaven: one, that slept
in the contriving of lust, and wak'd to do it: Wine
lov'd I deeply; dice dearly; and in woman, out-paramour'd
the Turk: False of heart, 2 note
light of ear,
bloody of hand; 3 noteHog in sloth, fox in stealth,
-- 468 --
wolf in greediness, dog in madness, lion in prey.
Let not the creaking of shoes, nor the rustling of
silks, betray thy poor heart to women: Keep thy
foot out of brothels, thy hand out of plackets4 note
,
thy pen from lenders' books5 note
, and defy the foul
fiend.—Still through the hawthorn blows the cold
wind: 6 note
Says suum, mun, ha no nonny, dolphin
my boy, boy, Sessy; let him trot by.
[Storm still.
-- 469 --
Lear.
Why thou were better in thy grave, than
to answer with thy uncover'd body this extremity of
the skies.—Is man no more than this? Consider him
well: Thou owest the worm no silk, the beast no
hide, the sheep no wool, the cat no perfume:—
Ha! here's three of us are sophisticated!—Thou
art the thing itself: unaccommodated man is no
more but such a poor, bare, forked animal as thou
art.—Off, off, you lendings:—Come8 note
; unbutton
here.—
[Tearing off his clothes.
Fool.
Pr'ythee, nuncle, be contented; this is a
naughty night to swim in.—Now a little fire in a
wild field, were like an old lecher's heart9 note
; a small
-- 470 --
spark, and all the rest of his body cold.—Look, here
comes a walking fire.
Edg.
This is the foul fiend 1 note
Flibbertigibbet: he
begins at curfew, and walks 'till the first cock; he
gives the 2 note
web and the pin, squints the eye, and
makes the hare-lip; mildews the white wheat, and
hurts the poor creature of earth.
3 note
Saint Withold footed thrice the wold;
He met the night-mare, and her nine-fold;
-- 471 --
Bid her alight,
And her troth plight,
And, Aroynt thee, witch, aroynt thee!
Kent.
How fares your grace?
-- 472 --
Enter Gloster, with a torch.
Lear.
What's he?
Kent.
Who's there? What is't you seek?
Glo.
What are you there? Your names?
Edg.
Poor Tom; that eats the swimming frog,
the toad, the tadpole, the wall-newt, and the water-newt;
that in the fury of his heart, when the foul
fiend rages, eats cow-dung for sallets; swallows the
old rat, and the ditch-dog; drinks the green mantle
of the standing pool; who is 4 notewhipt from tything
to tything, and stock'd, punish'd, and imprison'd;
who hath had three suits to his back, six shirts to his
body, horse to ride, and weapon to wear,—
-- 473 --
But mice, and rats, and such 5 note
small deer,
Have been Tom's food for seven long year.
Beware my follower:—Peace, Smolkin6 note; peace, thou fiend!
Glo.
What, hath your grace no better company?
Edg.
The prince of darkness is a gentleman7 note;
8 noteModo he's call'd, and Mahu.
-- 474 --
Glo.
Our flesh and blood, my lord, is grown so vile,
That it doth hate what gets it.
Edg.
Poor Tom's a-cold.
Glo.
Go in with me; my duty cannot suffer
To obey in all your daughters' hard commands:
Though their injunction be to bar my doors,
And let this tyrannous night take hold upon you;
Yet have I ventur'd to come seek you out,
And bring you where both fire and food is ready.
Lear.
First let me talk with this philosopher:—
What is the cause of thunder?
Kent.
My good lord, take his offer;
Go into the house.
Lear.
I'll talk a word with this same learned Theban9 note:—
What is your study?
Edg.
How to prevent the fiend, and to kill vermin.
Lear.
Let me ask you one word in private.
Kent.
Importune him once more to go, my lord,
His wits begin to unsettle.
Glo.
Canst thou blame him?
[Storm still.
His daughters seek his death:—Ah, that good Kent!—
He said, it would be thus:—Poor banish'd man!—
Thou say'st, the king grows mad; I'll tell thee, friend,
I am almost mad myself: I had a son,
Now out-law'd from my blood; he sought my life,
But lately, very late; I lov'd him, friend,—
No father his son dearer: true to tell thee,
-- 475 --
The grief hath craz'd my wits. What a night's this!
I do beseech your grace,—
Lear.
O, cry you mercy, sir:—
Noble philosopher, your company.
Edg.
Tom's a-cold.
Glo.
In, fellow, there, to the hovel: keep thee warm.
Lear.
Come, let's in all.
Kent.
This way, my lord.
Lear.
With him;
I will keep still with my philosopher.
Kent.
Good my lord, sooth him; let him take the
fellow.
Glo.
Take him you on.
Kent.
Sirrah, come on; go along with us.
Lear.
Come, good Athenian.
Glo.
No words, no words; hush.
Edg.
1 note
Child Rowland to the dark tower came,
His word was still,—Fie, foh, and fum,
I smell the blood of a British man.
[Exeunt.
-- 476 --
Samuel Johnson [1778], The plays of William Shakspeare. In ten volumes. With the corrections and illustrations of various commentators; to which are added notes by Samuel Johnson and George Steevens. The second edition, Revised and Augmented (Printed for C. Bathurst [and] W. Strahan [etc.], London) [word count] [S10901].
