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

Enter Glocefter. Lear. Now, Glo'ster?-[Gloc. whispers Lear.]

Ha ! how's this?
Deny to speak with me? they're sick, they're weary,
They have travelld 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! confusion ! Fiery? what quality ? why, Glocester, Glocester, 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? dost thou understand me,

man ? Gloc. Ay, my good lord. Lear. The king would speak with Cornwall ;

the dear father Would with his daughter speak; commands her

service: Are they inform’d of this?-My breath and

blood! Fiery ? the fiery duke ? tell the hot duke, thata


No, but not yet; may be, he is not well;
Infirmity doth still neglect all office,
Whereto our health is bound. I will forbear,
Nor task the indispos'd and fickly fit
As the found man.--Death on my state! but

Should he fit here ? This act persuades 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, sleep to death.--Oh! are you come ?

Enter Cornwall, Regan, and servants.
Cornw. Hail to your grace!

[Kent is set at liberty. Lear. Good morrow both ! Oh me, my heart ! my rising heart ! but down!

Regan. I am glad to see your highness.
Lear. Regan, I think you are; I know what

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

L 3


Sharp-tooth'd unkindness, like a vulture here;
I can scarce speak to thee; thou'lt not believe,
With how deprav'd a quality--oh, Regan!
Regan. I pray you, Sir, take patience; I have

You less know how to value her defert,
Than she to fcant her duty.

Lear. Say? how is that?

Regan. I cannot think, my sister in the least
Would fail her obligation. If, perchance,
She have restrain'd the riots of your followers;
'Tis on such ground, and to such wholesome end,
As clears her from all blame.

Lear. My curses on her!
Regan. Oh, Sir, you are old! you should be ruld

and led
By some discretion ! therefore, I pray you,
That to our fifter you do make return;
Say, you have wrong'd her, Sir,

Lear. Ask her forgiveness? Do you but mark, how this becometh us? Dear daughter, I confess that I am old ; “ Age is unnecessary: on my knees I beg, “ That you'll vouchsafe me raiment, bed, and food."

Regan. Good Sir, no more; these are unsightly



Return you to my sister.

Lear. Never, Regan : She hath abated me of half my train; Look'd blank upon me; struck me with her tongue Most serpent-like, upon the very heart. All the for’d vengeances of Heaven fall On her ungrateful top!

Regan. Oh, the blest gods !
So will you wish on me, when the rash mood is on.
Lear. No, Regan, thou shalt never have my

curse :
Thy tender-hefted nature shall not give
Thee o'er to harshness. Tis not in thee
To grudge my pleasures, to cut off my train,
To bandy hasty words. Thou better know'st
The offices of nature, bond of childhood,
Effects of courtesy, dues of gratitude:
Thy half o'th' kingdom thou hast not forgot,
Wherein I thee endow'd.

Regan. Good Sir, to th’purpose. [Trumpet within.
Lear. Who put my man i'th' stocks?

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Enter Steward. Cornw. What trumpet's that? Regan. I know't, my sister's : this approves her letter,



That she would soon be here. Is your lady come?'

Lear. Out, varlet, from my sight!
Cornw. What means your grace?

Enter Gonerill.

Lear. Who stock'd my servant? Regan, I've

good hope, Thou didst not know, on't. Who comes here?

Oh, Heav'ns, If you do love old men, if your sweet sway Hallow obedience, if yourselves are old, Make it your cause; send down and take my part ! Art not asham’d to look upon this beard ? Oh, Regan, will you take her by the hand? Gon. Why not by th’hand, Sir? how have I

offended ? All's not offence, that indiscretion finds, And dotage terms fo.

Lear. Oh, fides, you are too tough! Will you yet hold?

How came my mani'th'stocks? Cornw. I set him there, Sir; but his own disorders Deserv'd much less advancement.

Lear. You? did you?

Regan. I pray you, father, being weak, seem fo. If, 'till the expiration of your month, You will return and fojourn with


my sister,

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