Who hath moft fortunately been inform'd

Of my obscure courfe. All weary and o'er-watch'd,
Take vantage, heavy eyes, not to behold

This fhameful lodging.

Fortune, good night! fmile once more, turn thy

"wheel!

Scene changes to a part of a heath.

Enter Edgar.

[Sleeps.

Edgar. I've heard myself proclaim'd;
And, by the happy hollow of a tree,
Efcap'd the hunt. No port is free, no place,
That guard and most unusual vigilance
Does not attend my taking. Whiles I may 'fcape,
I will preferve myself: And am bethought
To take the bafeft and the pooreft shape,
That ever penury in contempt of man

Brought near to beaft: My face I will befmear,
Blanket my loins; elf all my hair in knots;
And out-face

The winds, and perfecutions of the sky.

1

The country gives me proof and precedent
Of Bedlam beggars, who, with roaring voices,
Strike in their numb'd and mortified bare arms
Pins, iron-fpikes, thorns, fprigs of rosemary;
VOL. III.

L

And

And thus from sheep-cotes, villages, and mills,
Enforce their charity; poor Turlygood! poor Tom!
That's fomething yet: Edgar, I nothing am. [Exit.

Scene changes again, to the earl of Glocefter's caftle.
Kent in the flocks. Enter Lear and attendants.
Lear. 'Tis ftrange, that they should so depart
from home,

And not fend back my meffenger.

Kent. Hail to thee, noble master!

Lear. Ha! mak'ft thou thy fhame thy pastime?
Kent. No, my lord.

Lear. What's he, that hath so much thy place
mistook,

To fet thee here?

Kent. It is both he and she,

Your fon and daughter.

Lear. No.

Kent. Yes.

Lear. No, I fay.

Kent. I fay, yea.

Lear. By Jupiter, I fwear, no.

Kent. By Juno, I swear, ay.

Lear. They durft not do't.

They could not, would not do't; 'tis worse than

murder,

To

Tó do upon respect fuch violent outrage:

Refolve me with all modeft hafte, which way Thou might'ft deserve, or they impose, this usage, Coming from us.

Kent. My lord, while at their home

I did commend your highness' letters to them,
Came a reeking poft,

Stew'd in his hafte, half breathlefs, panting forth
From Gonerill his miftrefs, falutation;

Deliver❜d letters, fpite of intermiffion,

Which presently they read: On whose contents They fummon'd up their train, and straight took horfe,

Commanding me to follow and attend

The leifure of their anfwer; gave me cold looks: And meeting here the other meffenger,

Whose welcome, I perceiv'd, had poison'd mine; (Being the very fellow, which of late

Display'd fo faucily against your highness)

Having more man than wit about me, I drew; He rais'd the houfe with loud and coward cries: Your fon and daughter found this trespass worth The fhame which here it fuffers.

Lear. Oh, how this mother fwells up tow❜rd my

heart!

Down, down, thou climbing forrow!

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Thy

Thy element's below. Where is this daughter? Kent. With the earl, Sir, here within.

Enter Glocefter.

Lear. Now, Glo'fter?-[Gloc. whispers Lear.]— Ha! how's this?

Deny to speak with me? they're fick, they're weary, They have travell'd all the night? Mere fetches, The images of revolt and flying off.

Bring me a better anfwer!

Gloc. My dear lord,

You know the fiery quality of the duke

Lear. Vengeance! plague! death! confufion!Fiery? what quality? why, Glocester, Glocefter, I'd speak with the duke of Cornwall, and his wife. Gloc. Well, my good lord, I have inform'd them fo. Lear. Inform'd them? doft thou understand me, man?

Gloc. Ay, my good lord.

Lear. The king would fpeak with Cornwall; the dear father

Would with his daughter fpeak; commands her fervice:

Are they inform'd of this?-My breath and blood!-

Fiery? the fiery duke? tell the hot duke, that

No,

No, but not yet; may be, he is not well;
Infirmity doth ftill neglect all office,

Whereto our health is bound. I will forbear,
Nor task the indifpos'd and fickly fit

As the found man.-Death on my state! but wherefore

Should he fit here? This act perfuades me,
That this remotion of the duke and her

Is practice only. Give me my fervant forth;
Go, tell the duke and's wife, I'd speak with them:
Now, presently, bid them come forth and hear me,
Or at their chamber-door I'll beat the drum,
'Till it cry, fleep to death.-Oh! are you come ?

Enter Cornwall, Regan, and fervants.

Cornw. Hail to your grace!

Lear. Good morrow both!

[Kent is fet at liberty.

Oh me, my heart! my rifing heart! but down! Regan. I am glad to see your highness.

Lear. Regan, I think you are; I know what

caufe

I have to think fo; if thou wert not glad,
I would divorce me from thy mother's tomb,
Sepulchring an adultrefs. Beloved Regan,
Thy fifter's naught: Oh, Regan, she hath tied
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Sharp