The Bodleian First Folio

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Reference: rr3r - Tragedies, p. 297

Left Column


The Tragedie of King Lear. And Baudes, and whores, do Churches build, Then shal the Realme of Albion, come to great confusion: Then comes the time, who liues to see't, That going shalbe vs'd with feet.
[1690]
This prophecie Merlin shall make, for I liue before his time
Exit.
Scœna Tertia. [Act 3, Scene 3] Enter Gloster, and Edmund. Glo.

Alacke, alacke Edmund, I like not this vnnaturall

dealing; when I desired their leaue that I might pity him,

they tooke from me the vse of mine owne house, charg'd

me on paine of perpetuall displeasure, neither to speake

[1695]

of him, entreat for him, or any way sustaine him.

Bast.

Most sauage and vnnaturall.

Glo.

Go too; say you nothing. There is diuision be­tweene

the Dukes, and a worsse matter then that: I haue

receiued a Letter this night, 'tis dangerous to be spoken,

[1700]

I haue lock'd the Letter in my Closset, these iniuries the

King now beares, will be reuenged home; ther is part of

a Power already footed, we must incline to the King, I

will looke him, and priuily relieue him; goe you and

maintaine talke with the Duke, that my charity be not of

[1705]

him perceiued; If he aske for me, I am ill, and gone to

bed, if I die for it, (as no lesse is threatned me) the King

my old Master must be relieued. There is strange things

toward Edmund, pray you be carefull.

Exit. Bast. This Curtesie forbid thee, shall the Duke
[1710]
Instantly know, and of that Letter too; This seemes a faire deseruing, and must draw me That which my Father looses: no lesse then all, The yonger rises, when the old doth fall.
Exit.
Scena Quarta. [Act 3, Scene 4] Enter Lear, Kent, and Foole. Kent. Here is the place my Lord, good my Lord enter,
[1715]
The tirrany of the open night's too rough For Nature to endure. Storme still
Lear.

Let me alone.

Kent.

Good my Lord enter here.

Lear.

Wilt breake my heart?

Kent.
[1720]
I had rather breake mine owne, Good my Lord enter.
Lear. Thou think'st 'tis much that this contentious storme Inuades vs to the skin so: 'tis to thee, But where the greater malady is fixt,
[1725]
The lesser is scarce felt. Thou'dst shun a Beare, But if thy flight lay toward the roaring sea, Thou'dst meete the Beare i'th' mouth, when the mind's free, The bodies delicate: the tempest in my mind, Doth from my sences take all feeling else,
[1730]
Saue what beates there, Filliall ingratitude, Is it not as this mouth should teare this hand For lifting food too't? But I will punish home; No, I will weepe no more; in such a night,

Image


[full image]

Right Column


To shut me out? Poure on, I will endure:
[1735]
In such a night as this? O Regan, Gonerill , Your old kind Father, whose franke heart gaue all, O that way madnesse lies, let me shun that: No more of that.
Kent.

Good my Lord enter here.

Lear.
[1740]
Prythee go in thy selfe, seeke thine owne ease, This tempest will not giue me leaue to ponder On things would hurt me more, but Ile goe in, In Boy, go first. You houselesse pouertie, Exit. Nay get thee in; Ile pray, and then Ile sleepe.
[1745]
Poore naked wretches, where so ere you are That bide the pelting of this pittilesse storme, How shall your House‐lesse heads, and vnfed sides, Your lop'd, and window'd raggednesse defend you From seasons such as these? O I haue tane
[1750]
Too little care of this: Take Physicke, Pompe, Expose thy selfe to feele what wretches feele, That thou maist shake the superflux to them, And shew the Heauens more iust.
Enter Edgar, and Foole. Edg.

Fathom, and halfe, Fathom and halfe; poore Tom.

Foole.
[1755]

Come not in heere Nuncle, here's a spirit, helpe

me, helpe me.

Kent.

Giue my thy hand, who's there?

Foole.

A spirite, a spirite, he sayes his name's poore

Tom.

Kent.
[1760]

What art thou that dost grumble there i'th'

straw? Come forth.

Edg.

Away, the foule Fiend followes me, through the

sharpe Hauthorne blow the windes. Humh, goe to thy

bed and warme thee.

Lear.
[1765]
Did'st thou giue all to thy Daughters? And art thou come to this?
Edgar.

Who giues any thing to poore Tom? Whom

the foule fiend hath led through Fire, and through Flame,

through Sword, and Whirle‐Poole, o're Bog, and Quag­mire,

that hath laid Kniues vnder his Pillow, and Halters

[1770]

in his Pue, set Rats‐bane by his Porredge, made him

Proud of heart, to ride on a Bay trotting Horse, ouer foure

incht Bridges, to course his owne shadow for a Traitor.

Blisse thy fiue Wits, Toms a cold. O do, de, do, de, do, de,

blisse thee from Whirle‐Windes, Starre‐blasting, and ta­king,

[1775]

do poore Tom some charitie, whom the foule Fiend

vexes. There could I haue him now, and there, and there

aga ne, and there. Storme still.

Lear. Ha's his Daughters brought him to this passe? Could'st thou saue nothing? Would'st thou giue 'em all? Foole.
[1780]

Nay, he reseru'd a Blanket, else we had bin all

sham'd.

Lea. Now all the plagues that in the pendulous ayre Hang fated o're mens faults, light on thy Daughters. Kent.

He hath no Daughters Sir.

Lear.
[1785]
Death Traitor, nothing could haue subdue'd Nature To such a lownesse, but his vnkind Daughters. Is it the fashion, that discarded Fathers, Should haue thus little mercy on their flesh: Iudicious punishment, 'twas this flesh begot
[1790]
Those Pelicane Daughters.
Edg.

Pillicock sat on Pillicock hill, alow: alow, loo, loo.

Foole.

This cold night will turne vs all to Fooles, and

Madmen.

Edgar.

Take heed o'th' foule Fiend, obey thy Pa­rents,

[1795]

keepe thy words Iustice, sweare not, commit not,

rr3 with

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Scena Quarta. [Act 3, Scene 4] Enter Lear, Kent, and Foole. Kent. Here is the place my Lord, good my Lord enter,
[1715]
The tirrany of the open night's too rough For Nature to endure. Storme still
Lear.

Let me alone.

Kent.

Good my Lord enter here.

Lear.

Wilt breake my heart?

Kent.
[1720]
I had rather breake mine owne, Good my Lord enter.
Lear. Thou think'st 'tis much that this contentious storme Inuades vs to the skin so: 'tis to thee, But where the greater malady is fixt,
[1725]
The lesser is scarce felt. Thou'dst shun a Beare, But if thy flight lay toward the roaring sea, Thou'dst meete the Beare i'th' mouth, when the mind's free, The bodies delicate: the tempest in my mind, Doth from my sences take all feeling else,
[1730]
Saue what beates there, Filliall ingratitude, Is it not as this mouth should teare this hand For lifting food too't? But I will punish home; No, I will weepe no more; in such a night, To shut me out? Poure on, I will endure:
[1735]
In such a night as this? O Regan, Gonerill , Your old kind Father, whose franke heart gaue all, O that way madnesse lies, let me shun that: No more of that.
Kent.

Good my Lord enter here.

Lear.
[1740]
Prythee go in thy selfe, seeke thine owne ease, This tempest will not giue me leaue to ponder On things would hurt me more, but Ile goe in, In Boy, go first. You houselesse pouertie, Exit. Nay get thee in; Ile pray, and then Ile sleepe.
[1745]
Poore naked wretches, where so ere you are That bide the pelting of this pittilesse storme, How shall your House‐lesse heads, and vnfed sides, Your lop'd, and window'd raggednesse defend you From seasons such as these? O I haue tane
[1750]
Too little care of this: Take Physicke, Pompe, Expose thy selfe to feele what wretches feele, That thou maist shake the superflux to them, And shew the Heauens more iust.
Enter Edgar, and Foole. Edg.

Fathom, and halfe, Fathom and halfe; poore Tom.

Foole.
[1755]

Come not in heere Nuncle, here's a spirit, helpe

me, helpe me.

Kent.

Giue my thy hand, who's there?

Foole.

A spirite, a spirite, he sayes his name's poore

Tom.

Kent.
[1760]

What art thou that dost grumble there i'th'

straw? Come forth.

Edg.

Away, the foule Fiend followes me, through the

sharpe Hauthorne blow the windes. Humh, goe to thy

bed and warme thee.

Lear.
[1765]
Did'st thou giue all to thy Daughters? And art thou come to this?
Edgar.

Who giues any thing to poore Tom? Whom

the foule fiend hath led through Fire, and through Flame,

through Sword, and Whirle‐Poole, o're Bog, and Quag­mire,

that hath laid Kniues vnder his Pillow, and Halters

[1770]

in his Pue, set Rats‐bane by his Porredge, made him

Proud of heart, to ride on a Bay trotting Horse, ouer foure

incht Bridges, to course his owne shadow for a Traitor.

Blisse thy fiue Wits, Toms a cold. O do, de, do, de, do, de,

blisse thee from Whirle‐Windes, Starre‐blasting, and ta­king,

[1775]

do poore Tom some charitie, whom the foule Fiend

vexes. There could I haue him now, and there, and there

aga ne, and there. Storme still.

Lear. Ha's his Daughters brought him to this passe? Could'st thou saue nothing? Would'st thou giue 'em all? Foole.
[1780]

Nay, he reseru'd a Blanket, else we had bin all

sham'd.

Lea. Now all the plagues that in the pendulous ayre Hang fated o're mens faults, light on thy Daughters. Kent.

He hath no Daughters Sir.

Lear.
[1785]
Death Traitor, nothing could haue subdue'd Nature To such a lownesse, but his vnkind Daughters. Is it the fashion, that discarded Fathers, Should haue thus little mercy on their flesh: Iudicious punishment, 'twas this flesh begot
[1790]
Those Pelicane Daughters.
Edg.

Pillicock sat on Pillicock hill, alow: alow, loo, loo.

Foole.

This cold night will turne vs all to Fooles, and

Madmen.

Edgar.

Take heed o'th' foule Fiend, obey thy Pa­rents,

[1795]

keepe thy words Iustice, sweare not, commit not,

with mans sworne Spouse: set not thy Sweet‐heart on

proud array. Tom's a cold.

Lear.

What hast thou bin?

Edg.

A Seruingman? Proud in heart, and minde; that

[1800]

curl'd my haire, wore Gloues in my cap; seru'd the Lust

of my Mistris heart, and did the acte of darkenesse with

her. Swore as many Oathes, as I spake words, & broke

them in the sweet face of Heauen. One, that slept in the

contriuing of Lust, and wak'd to doe it. Wine lou'd I

[1805]

deerely, Dice deerely; and in Woman, out‐Paramour'd

the Turke. False of heart, light of eare, bloody of hand;

Hog in sloth, Foxe in stealth, Wolfe in greedinesse, Dog

in madnes, Lyon in prey. Let not the creaking of shooes,

Nor the rustling of Silkes, betray thy poore heart to wo­man.

[1810]

Keepe thy foote out of Brothels, thy hand out of

Plackets, thy pen from Lenders Bookes, and defye the

foule Fiend. Still through the Hauthorne blowes the

cold winde: Sayes suum, mun, nonny, Dolphin my Boy,

Boy Sesey: let him trot by.

Storme still. Lear.
[1815]

Thou wert better in a Graue, then to answere

with thy vncouer'd body, this extremitie of the Skies. Is

man no more then this? Consider him well. Thou ow'st

the Worme no Silke; the Beast, no Hide; the Sheepe, no

Wooll; the Cat, no perfume. Ha? Here's three on's are

[1820]

sophisticated. Thou art the thing it selfe; vnaccommo­dated

man, is no more but such a poore, bare, forked A­nimall

as thou art. Off, off you Lendings: Come, vn­button

heere.

Enter Gloucester, with a Torch. Foole.

Prythee Nunckle be contented, 'tis a naughtie

[1825]

night to swimme in. Now a little fire in a wilde Field,

were like an old Letchers heart, a small spark, all the rest

on's body, cold: Looke, heere comes a walking fire.

Edg.

This is the foule Flibbertigibbet; hee begins at

Curfew, and walkes at first Cocke: Hee giues the Web

[1830]

and the Pin, squints the eye, and makes the Hare‐lippe;

Mildewes the white Wheate, and hurts the poore Crea­ture

of earth.

Swithold footed thrice the old, He met the Night‐Mare, and her nine‐fold;
[1835]
Bid her a‐light, and her troth‐plight, And aroynt thee Witch, aroynt thee.
Kent.

How fares your Grace?

Lear.

What's he?

Kent.

Who's there? What is't you seeke?

Glou.
[1840]

What are you there? Your Names?

Edg.

Poore Tom, that eates the swimming Frog, the

Toad, the Tod‐pole, the wall‐Neut, and the water: that

in the furie of his heart, when the foule Fiend rages, eats

Cow‐dung for Sallets; swallowes the old Rat, and the

[1845]

ditch‐Dogge; drinkes the green Mantle of the standing

Poole: who is whipt from Tything to Tything, and

stockt, punish'd, and imprison'd: who hath three Suites

to his backe, sixe shirts to his body:

Horse to ride, and weapon to weare:
[1850]
But Mice, and Rats, and such small Deare, Haue bin Toms food, for seuen long yeare: Beware my Follower. Peace Smulkin, peace thou Fiend.
Glou.

What, hath your Grace no better company?

Edg.

The Prince of Darkenesse is a Gentleman. Modo

[1855]

he's call'd, and Mahu.

Glou.

Our flesh and blood, my Lord, is growne so

vilde, that it doth hate what gets it.

Edg.

Poore Tom's a cold.

Glou. Go in with me; my duty cannot suffer
[1860]
T'obey in all your daughters hard commands: Though their Iniunction be to barre my doores, And let this Tyrannous night take hold vpon you, Yet haue I ventured to come seeke you out, And bring you where both fire, and food is ready.
Lear.
[1865]
First let me talke with this Philosopher, What is the cause of Thunder?
Kent. Good my Lord take his offer, Go into th'house. Lear. Ile talke a word with this same lerned Theban:
[1870]
What is your study?
Edg.

How to preuent the Fiend, and to kill Vermine.

Lear.

Let me aske you one word in priuate.

Kent. Importune him once more to go my Lord, His wits begin t'vnsettle. Glou.
[1875]
Canst thou blame him? Storm still His Daughters seeke his death: Ah, that good Kent, He said it would be thus: poore banish'd man: Thou sayest the King growes mad, Ile tell thee Friend I am almost mad my selfe. I had a Sonne,
[1880]
Now out‐law'd from my blood: he sought my life But lately: very late: I lou'd him (Friend) No Father his Sonne deerer: true to tell thee, The greefe hath craz'd my wits. What a night's this? I do beseech your grace.
Lear.
[1885]
O cry you mercy, Sir: Noble Philosopher, your company.
Edg.

Tom's a cold.

Glou.

In fellow there, into th'Houel; keep thee warm.

Lear.

Come, let's in all.

Kent.
[1890]

This way, my Lord.

Lear. With him; I will keepe still with my Philosopher. Kent. Good my Lord, sooth him: Let him take the Fellow. Glou.
[1895]

Take him you on.

Kent.

Sirra, come on: go along with vs.

Lear.

Come, good Athenian.

Glou.

No words, no words, hush.

Edg. Childe Rowland to the darke Tower came,
[1900]
His word was still, fie, foh, and fumme, I smell the blood of a Brittish man.
Exeunt.
 

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<div type="scene" n="4">
   <head rend="italic center">Scena Quarta.</head>
   <head type="supplied">[Act 3, Scene 4]</head>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Lear, Kent, and Foole.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-lr-ken">
      <speaker rend="italic">Kent.</speaker>
      <l n="1714">Here is the place my Lord, good my Lord enter,</l>
      <l n="1715">The tirrany of the open night's too rough</l>
      <l n="1716">For Nature to endure.<hi rend="italic">Storme still</hi>
      </l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-lea">
      <speaker rend="italic">Lear.</speaker>
      <p n="1717">Let me alone.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-ken">
      <speaker rend="italic">Kent.</speaker>
      <p n="1718">Good my Lord enter here.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-lea">
      <speaker rend="italic">Lear.</speaker>
      <p n="1719">Wilt breake my heart?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-ken">
      <speaker rend="italic">Kent.</speaker>
      <l n="1720">I had rather breake mine owne,</l>
      <l n="1721">Good my Lord enter.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-lea">
      <speaker rend="italic">Lear.</speaker>
      <l n="1722">Thou think'st 'tis much that this contentious</l>
      <l n="1723">storme Inuades vs to the skin so: 'tis to thee,</l>
      <l n="1724">But where the greater malady is fixt,</l>
      <l n="1725">The lesser is scarce felt. Thou'dst shun a Beare,</l>
      <l n="1726">But if thy flight lay toward the roaring sea,</l>
      <l n="1727">Thou'dst meete the Beare i'th' mouth, when the mind's</l>
      <l n="1728">free, The bodies delicate: the tempest in my mind,</l>
      <l n="1729">Doth from my sences take all feeling else,</l>
      <l n="1730">Saue what beates there, Filliall ingratitude,</l>
      <l n="1731">Is it not as this mouth should teare this hand</l>
      <l n="1732">For lifting food too't? But I will punish home;</l>
      <l n="1733">No, I will weepe no more; in such a night,</l>
      <cb n="2"/>
      <l n="1734">To shut me out? Poure on, I will endure:</l>
      <l n="1735">In such a night as this? O<hi rend="italic">Regan, Gonerill</hi>,</l>
      <l n="1736">Your old kind Father, whose franke heart gaue all,</l>
      <l n="1737">O that way madnesse lies, let me shun that:</l>
      <l n="1738">No more of that.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-ken">
      <speaker rend="italic">Kent.</speaker>
      <p n="1739">Good my Lord enter here.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-lea">
      <speaker rend="italic">Lear.</speaker>
      <l n="1740">Prythee go in thy selfe, seeke thine owne ease,</l>
      <l n="1741">This tempest will not giue me leaue to ponder</l>
      <l n="1742">On things would hurt me more, but Ile goe in,</l>
      <l n="1743">In Boy, go first. You houselesse pouertie,</l>
      <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exit.</stage>
      <l n="1744">Nay get thee in; Ile pray, and then Ile sleepe.</l>
      <l n="1745">Poore naked wretches, where so ere you are</l>
      <l n="1746">That bide the pelting of this pittilesse storme,</l>
      <l n="1747">How shall your House‐lesse heads, and vnfed sides,</l>
      <l n="1748">Your lop'd, and window'd raggednesse defend you</l>
      <l n="1749">From seasons such as these? O I haue tane</l>
      <l n="1750">Too little care of this: Take Physicke, Pompe,</l>
      <l n="1751">Expose thy selfe to feele what wretches feele,</l>
      <l n="1752">That thou maist shake the superflux to them,</l>
      <l n="1753">And shew the Heauens more iust.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Edgar, and Foole.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-lr-edg">
      <speaker rend="italic">Edg.</speaker>
      <p n="1754">Fathom, and halfe, Fathom and halfe; poore<hi rend="italic">Tom</hi>.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-foo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Foole.</speaker>
      <p n="1755">Come not in heere Nuncle, here's a spirit, helpe
      <lb n="1756"/>me, helpe me.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-ken">
      <speaker rend="italic">Kent.</speaker>
      <p n="1757">Giue my thy hand, who's there?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-foo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Foole.</speaker>
      <p n="1758">A spirite, a spirite, he sayes his name's poore
      <lb n="1759"/>
         <hi rend="italic">Tom.</hi>
      </p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-ken">
      <speaker rend="italic">Kent.</speaker>
      <p n="1760">What art thou that dost grumble there i'th'
      <lb n="1761"/>straw? Come forth.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-edg">
      <speaker rend="italic">Edg.</speaker>
      <p n="1762">Away, the foule Fiend followes me, through the
      <lb n="1763"/>sharpe Hauthorne blow the windes. Humh, goe to thy
      <lb n="1764"/>bed and warme thee.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-lea">
      <speaker rend="italic">Lear.</speaker>
      <l n="1765">Did'st thou giue all to thy Daughters? And art
      <lb/>thou come to this?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-edg">
      <speaker rend="italic">Edgar.</speaker>
      <p n="1766">Who giues any thing to poore<hi rend="italic">Tom</hi>? Whom
      <lb n="1767"/>the foule fiend hath led through Fire, and through Flame,
      <lb n="1768"/>through Sword, and Whirle‐Poole, o're Bog, and Quag­mire,
      <lb n="1769"/>that hath laid Kniues vnder his Pillow, and Halters
      <lb n="1770"/>in his Pue, set Rats‐bane by his Porredge, made him
      <lb n="1771"/>Proud of heart, to ride on a Bay trotting Horse, ouer foure
      <lb n="1772"/>incht Bridges, to course his owne shadow for a Traitor.
      <lb n="1773"/>Blisse thy fiue Wits,<hi rend="italic">Toms</hi>a cold. O do, de, do, de, do, de,
      <lb n="1774"/>blisse thee from Whirle‐Windes, Starre‐blasting, and ta­king,
      <lb n="1775"/>do poore<hi rend="italic">Tom</hi>some charitie, whom the foule Fiend
      <lb n="1776"/>vexes. There could I haue him now, and there, and there
      <lb n="1777"/>aga<gap/>ne, and there.<hi rend="italic">Storme still.</hi>
      </p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-lea">
      <speaker rend="italic">Lear.</speaker>
      <l n="1778">Ha's his Daughters brought him to this passe?</l>
      <l n="1779">Could'st thou saue nothing? Would'st thou giue 'em all?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-foo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Foole.</speaker>
      <p n="1780">Nay, he reseru'd a Blanket, else we had bin all
      <lb n="1781"/>sham'd.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-lea">
      <speaker rend="italic">Lea.</speaker>
      <l n="1782">Now all the plagues that in the pendulous ayre</l>
      <l n="1783">Hang fated o're mens faults, light on thy Daughters.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-ken">
      <speaker rend="italic">Kent.</speaker>
      <p n="1784">He hath no Daughters Sir.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-lea">
      <speaker rend="italic">Lear.</speaker>
      <l n="1785">Death Traitor, nothing could haue subdue'd Nature</l>
      <l n="1786">To such a lownesse, but his vnkind Daughters.</l>
      <l n="1787">Is it the fashion, that discarded Fathers,</l>
      <l n="1788">Should haue thus little mercy on their flesh:</l>
      <l n="1789">Iudicious punishment, 'twas this flesh begot</l>
      <l n="1790">Those Pelicane Daughters.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-edg">
      <speaker rend="italic">Edg.</speaker>
      <p n="1791">Pillicock sat on Pillicock hill, alow: alow, loo, loo.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-foo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Foole.</speaker>
      <p n="1792">This cold night will turne vs all to Fooles, and
      <lb n="1793"/>Madmen.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-edg">
      <speaker rend="italic">Edgar.</speaker>
      <p n="1794">Take heed o'th' foule Fiend, obey thy Pa­rents,
      <lb n="1795"/>keepe thy words Iustice, sweare not, commit not,</p>
      <pb facs="FFimg:axc0808-0.jpg" n="298"/>
      <cb n="1"/>
      <p n="1796">with mans sworne Spouse: set not thy Sweet‐heart on
      <lb n="1797"/>proud array.<hi rend="italic">Tom's</hi>a cold.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-lea">
      <speaker rend="italic">Lear.</speaker>
      <p n="1798">What hast thou bin?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-edg">
      <speaker rend="italic">Edg.</speaker>
      <p n="1799">A Seruingman? Proud in heart, and minde; that
      <lb n="1800"/>curl'd my haire, wore Gloues in my cap; seru'd the Lust
      <lb n="1801"/>of my Mistris heart, and did the acte of darkenesse with
      <lb n="1802"/>her. Swore as many Oathes, as I spake words, &amp; broke
      <lb n="1803"/>them in the sweet face of Heauen. One, that slept in the
      <lb n="1804"/>contriuing of Lust, and wak'd to doe it. Wine lou'd I
      <lb n="1805"/>deerely, Dice deerely; and in Woman, out‐Paramour'd
      <lb n="1806"/>the Turke. False of heart, light of eare, bloody of hand;
      <lb n="1807"/>Hog in sloth, Foxe in stealth, Wolfe in greedinesse, Dog
      <lb n="1808"/>in madnes, Lyon in prey. Let not the creaking of shooes,
      <lb n="1809"/>Nor the rustling of Silkes, betray thy poore heart to wo­man.
      <lb n="1810"/>Keepe thy foote out of Brothels, thy hand out of
      <lb n="1811"/>Plackets, thy pen from Lenders Bookes, and defye the
      <lb n="1812"/>foule Fiend. Still through the Hauthorne blowes the
      <lb n="1813"/>cold winde: Sayes suum, mun, nonny, Dolphin my Boy,
      <lb n="1814"/>Boy<hi rend="italic">Sesey</hi>: let him trot by.</p>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="business">Storme still.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-lr-lea">
      <speaker rend="italic">Lear.</speaker>
      <p n="1815">Thou wert better in a Graue, then to answere
      <lb n="1816"/>with thy vncouer'd body, this extremitie of the Skies. Is
      <lb n="1817"/>man no more then this? Consider him well. Thou ow'st
      <lb n="1818"/>the Worme no Silke; the Beast, no Hide; the Sheepe, no
      <lb n="1819"/>Wooll; the Cat, no perfume. Ha? Here's three on's are
      <lb n="1820"/>sophisticated. Thou art the thing it selfe; vnaccommo­dated
      <lb n="1821"/>man, is no more but such a poore, bare, forked A­nimall
      <lb n="1822"/>as thou art. Off, off you Lendings: Come, vn­button
      <lb n="1823"/>heere.</p>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Gloucester, with a Torch.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-lr-foo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Foole.</speaker>
      <p n="1824">Prythee Nunckle be contented, 'tis a naughtie
      <lb n="1825"/>night to swimme in. Now a little fire in a wilde Field,
      <lb n="1826"/>were like an old Letchers heart, a small spark, all the rest
      <lb n="1827"/>on's body, cold: Looke, heere comes a walking fire.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-edg">
      <speaker rend="italic">Edg.</speaker>
      <p n="1828">This is the foule Flibbertigibbet; hee begins at
      <lb n="1829"/>Curfew, and walkes at first Cocke: Hee giues the Web
      <lb n="1830"/>and the Pin, squints the eye, and makes the Hare‐lippe;
      <lb n="1831"/>Mildewes the white Wheate, and hurts the poore Crea­ture
      <lb n="1832"/>of earth.</p>
      <l n="1833">
         <hi rend="italic">Swithold</hi>footed thrice the old,</l>
      <l n="1834">He met the Night‐Mare, and her nine‐fold;</l>
      <l n="1835">Bid her a‐light, and her troth‐plight,</l>
      <l n="1836">And aroynt thee Witch, aroynt thee.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-ken">
      <speaker rend="italic">Kent.</speaker>
      <p n="1837">How fares your Grace?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-lea">
      <speaker rend="italic">Lear.</speaker>
      <p n="1838">What's he?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-ken">
      <speaker rend="italic">Kent.</speaker>
      <p n="1839">Who's there? What is't you seeke?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-glo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Glou.</speaker>
      <p n="1840">What are you there? Your Names?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-edg">
      <speaker rend="italic">Edg.</speaker>
      <p n="1841">Poore Tom, that eates the swimming Frog, the
      <lb n="1842"/>Toad, the Tod‐pole, the wall‐Neut, and the water: that
      <lb n="1843"/>in the furie of his heart, when the foule Fiend rages, eats
      <lb n="1844"/>Cow‐dung for Sallets; swallowes the old Rat, and the
      <lb n="1845"/>ditch‐Dogge; drinkes the green Mantle of the standing
      <lb n="1846"/>Poole: who is whipt from Tything to Tything, and
      <lb n="1847"/>stockt, punish'd, and imprison'd: who hath three Suites
      <lb n="1848"/>to his backe, sixe shirts to his body:</p>
      <l n="1849">Horse to ride, and weapon to weare:</l>
      <l n="1850">But Mice, and Rats, and such small Deare,</l>
      <l n="1851">Haue bin Toms food, for seuen long yeare:</l>
      <l n="1852">Beware my Follower. Peace Smulkin, peace thou Fiend.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-glo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Glou.</speaker>
      <p n="1853">What, hath your Grace no better company?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-edg">
      <speaker rend="italic">Edg.</speaker>
      <p n="1854">The Prince of Darkenesse is a Gentleman.<hi rend="italic">Modo</hi>
         
      <lb n="1855"/>he's call'd, and<hi rend="italic">Mahu</hi>.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-glo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Glou.</speaker>
      <p n="1856">Our flesh and blood, my Lord, is growne so
      <lb n="1857"/>vilde, that it doth hate what gets it.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-edg">
      <speaker rend="italic">Edg.</speaker>
      <p n="1858">Poore Tom's a cold.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-glo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Glou.</speaker>
      <l n="1859">Go in with me; my duty cannot suffer</l>
      <cb n="2"/>
      <l n="1860">T'obey in all your daughters hard commands:</l>
      <l n="1861">Though their Iniunction be to barre my doores,</l>
      <l n="1862">And let this Tyrannous night take hold vpon you,</l>
      <l n="1863">Yet haue I ventured to come seeke you out,</l>
      <l n="1864">And bring you where both fire, and food is ready.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-lea">
      <speaker rend="italic">Lear.</speaker>
      <l n="1865">First let me talke with this Philosopher,</l>
      <l n="1866">What is the cause of Thunder?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-ken">
      <speaker rend="italic">Kent.</speaker>
      <l n="1867">Good my Lord take his offer,</l>
      <l n="1868">Go into th'house.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-lea">
      <speaker rend="italic">Lear.</speaker>
      <l n="1869">Ile talke a word with this same lerned Theban:</l>
      <l n="1870">What is your study?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-edg">
      <speaker rend="italic">Edg.</speaker>
      <p n="1871">How to preuent the Fiend, and to kill Vermine.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-lea">
      <speaker rend="italic">Lear.</speaker>
      <p n="1872">Let me aske you one word in priuate.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-ken">
      <speaker rend="italic">Kent.</speaker>
      <l n="1873">Importune him once more to go my Lord,</l>
      <l n="1874">His wits begin t'vnsettle.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-glo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Glou.</speaker>
      <l n="1875">Canst thou blame him?</l>
      <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="business">Storm still</stage>
      <l n="1876">His Daughters seeke his death: Ah, that good Kent,</l>
      <l n="1877">He said it would be thus: poore banish'd man:</l>
      <l n="1878">Thou sayest the King growes mad, Ile tell thee Friend</l>
      <l n="1879">I am almost mad my selfe. I had a Sonne,</l>
      <l n="1880">Now out‐law'd from my blood: he sought my life</l>
      <l n="1881">But lately: very late: I lou'd him (Friend)</l>
      <l n="1882">No Father his Sonne deerer: true to tell thee,</l>
      <l n="1883">The greefe hath craz'd my wits. What a night's this?</l>
      <l n="1884">I do beseech your grace.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-lea">
      <speaker rend="italic">Lear.</speaker>
      <l n="1885">O cry you mercy, Sir:</l>
      <l n="1886">Noble Philosopher, your company.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-edg">
      <speaker rend="italic">Edg.</speaker>
      <p n="1887">Tom's a cold.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-glo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Glou.</speaker>
      <p n="1888">In fellow there, into th'Houel; keep thee warm.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-lea">
      <speaker rend="italic">Lear.</speaker>
      <p n="1889">Come, let's in all.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-ken">
      <speaker rend="italic">Kent.</speaker>
      <p n="1890">This way, my Lord.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-lea">
      <speaker rend="italic">Lear.</speaker>
      <l n="1891">With him;</l>
      <l n="1892">I will keepe still with my Philosopher.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-ken">
      <speaker rend="italic">Kent.</speaker>
      <l n="1893">Good my Lord, sooth him:</l>
      <l n="1894">Let him take the Fellow.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-glo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Glou.</speaker>
      <p n="1895">Take him you on.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-ken">
      <speaker rend="italic">Kent.</speaker>
      <p n="1896">Sirra, come on: go along with vs.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-lea">
      <speaker rend="italic">Lear.</speaker>
      <p n="1897">Come, good Athenian.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-glo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Glou.</speaker>
      <p n="1898">No words, no words, hush.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-lr-edg">
      <speaker rend="italic">Edg.</speaker>
      <l n="1899">Childe<hi rend="italic">Rowland</hi>to the darke Tower came,</l>
      <l n="1900">His word was still, fie, foh, and fumme,</l>
      <l n="1901">I smell the blood of a Brittish man.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exeunt.</stage>
</div>

        
        

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