Kent.
Who's there ^note, besides ^note foul weather?

Gent.
One minded like the weather, most unquietly.

Kent.
I know you. Where's the king?

Gent.
Contending with the fretful elements ^note;
Bids the wind blow the earth into the sea,
Or swell the curled waters 'bove the main ^note,
That things might change or cease; tears his white hair,
Which the impetuous blasts, with eyeless rage,
Catch in their fury, and make nothing of;
Strives in his little world of man to out-scorn ^note

The to-and-fro-conflicting ^note wind and rain. ^note
This night, wherein ^note the cub-drawn bear would couch,
The lion and the belly-pinched ^note wolf
Keep their fur dry, unbonneted he runs,
And bids what will take all. ^note

Kent.
But who is with him?

Gent.
None but the fool; who labours to out-jest
His heart-struck ^note injuries.

Kent.
Sir I do know you;
And dare, upon the warrant of my note ^note,
Commend ^note a dear thing to you. There is ^note division,
Although as yet the face of it be ^note cover'd
With mutual cunning ^note, 'twixt Albany and Cornwall;
Who have—as who have not, that ^note their great stars ^note
Throned ^note and set high?— ^noteservants, who seem no less,
Which are to France the spies and speculations ^note
Intelligent of our state; ^note what hath ^note been seen,
Either in snuffs and packings of the dukes,
Or the hard rein which both of them have ^note borne
Against the old kind king, or something deeper,
Whereof perchance these are but furnishings,— ^{note note}
But ^note true it is, from France there comes a power
Into this scatter'd ^note kingdom; who already,

Wise in our negligence, have secret feet ^note
In some of our best ports, and are at point
To show their open banner. Now to you:
If on my credit you dare build so far ^note
To make your speed to Dover, you shall find
Some that will thank you, making just report
Of how unnatural and bemadding ^note sorrow
The king hath cause to plain.
I am a gentleman of blood and breeding,
And from some knowledge and assurance offer
This office to you. ^{note note note note}

Gent.
I will ^note talk further ^note with you.

Kent.
No, do not.
For confirmation that I am ^note much more
Than my out-wall, open this purse and take
What it contains. If you shall see Cordelia,—
As fear ^note not but you shall,—show her this ^note ring,
And she will tell you who your ^note fellow is
That yet you do not know. Fie on this storm!
I will go seek the king.

Gent.
Give me your hand:
Have you no more to say? ^note

Kent.
Few words, but, to effect, more than all yet;
That when we have found the king,—in which your pain
That way, I'll this,—he that first lights on him
Holla ^note the other. ^note [Exeunt severally. ^note

^note

Next section