In my corrupted blood. But I'll not chide thee; I, and my hundred knights. Reg. Not altogether so, sir; I look'd not for you yet, nor am provided For your fit welcome: Give ear, sir, to my sister; Must be content to think you old, and so- Lear. Is this well spoke now? Reg. 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. Gon. Why might not you, my lord, receive attendance From those that she calls servants, or from mine? slack you, 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 Lear. I gave you all Reg, With such a number: What, must I come to you Reg. And speak it again, my lord; no more with Ire. Lear. Those wicked creatures yet do look wellfavour'd, When others are more wicked; not being the worst, Stands in some rank of praise: -I'll go with thee; [To Goneril Thy fifty yet doth double five and twenty, Gon. Hear me, my lord; What need you five and twenty, ten, or five, Reg. 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! If it be you that stir these daughters' hearts To bear it tamely; touch me with noble anger! That all the world shall-I will do such things,- I have full cause of weeping; but this heart [Exeunt Lear, Gloster, Kent, and Fool; Corn. Let us withdraw, 'twill be a storm. Reg. [Storm heard at a distance. Is little; the old man and his people cannot Gon. This house "Tis his own blame; he hath put Himself from rest, and must needs taste his folly. Reg. For his particular, I'll receive him gladly, But not one follower. Gon. So am I purpos'd. Where is my lord of Gloster? Re-enter GLOSTER. Corn. Follow'd the old man forth:-he is return'd. Glo. The king is in high rage. Corn. Whither is he going? Glo. He calls to horse; but will I know not whither. Corn. 'Tis best to give him way; he leads himself. Gon. My lord, entreat him by no means to stay. Glo. Alack, the night comes on, and the bleak winds Do sorely ruffle; for many miles about There's scarce a bush. O, sir, to wilful men, Reg. doors; And what they may incense him to, being apt To have his ear abus'd, wisdom bids fear. Corn. Shut up your doors, my lord; 'tis a wild night; My Regan counsels well: come out o'the storm. [Exeunt. ACT III. SCENE I. A Heath. A storm is heard, with thunder and lightning. Enter KENT, and a Gentlemun, meeting. Kent. Who's here, beside foul weather? Gent. One minded like the weather, most unquietly. Kent. I know you; Where's the king? Gent. Contending with the fretful element: Bids the wind blow the earth into the sea, Or swell the curled waters 'bove the main, 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 The to-and-fro-conflicting wind and rain. This night, wherein the cub-drawn bear would couch, The lion and the belly-pinched wolf Keep their fur dry, unbonneted he runs, And bids what will take all. And dare, upon the warrant of my art, Sir, I do know you; |