# King Lear (1917) Yale/Text/Act II

Notes originally placed at the bottom of each page appear below, following Act II. Where these notes gloss a word in the text, the gloss can also be found by hovering over the text.
Where these notes refer to an end note (cf. n. = confer notam; "consult note"), a link to the accompanying end note is provided from the Footnotes section. The end notes accompanying Act II begin on page 132 of the original volume.
Layout 2
ACT SECOND
Scene One
[Earl of Gloucester's Castle]
Enter Bastard [Edmund] and Curan, severally.
Edm. Save thee, Curan.
Cur. And you, sir. I have been with your father, and given him notice that the Duke of Cornwall and Regan his duchess will be here with him to-night. 5
Edm. How comes that?
Cur. Nay, I know not. You have heard of the news abroad? I mean the whispered ones, for they are yet but ear-kissing arguments? 9
Edm. Not I: pray you, what are they?
Cur. Have you heard of no likely wars toward, 'twixt the Dukes of Cornwall and Albany? 12
Edm. Not a word.
Cur. You may do then, in time. Fare you well, sir. Exit.
​Edm. The duke be here to-night! The better! best! 16 This weaves itself perforce into my business. My father hath set guard to take my brother; And I have one thing, of a queasy question, Which I must act. Briefness and fortune, work! Brother, a word; descend: brother, I say! 21
Enter Edgar.
My father watches: O sir! fly this place; Intelligence is given where you are hid; You have now the good advantage of the night. 24 Have you not spoken 'gainst the Duke of Cornwall? He's coming hither, now, i' the night, i' the haste, And Regan with him; have you nothing said Upon his party 'gainst the Duke of Albany? 28 Advise yourself.
Edg. I am sure on 't, not a word.
Edm. I hear my father coming; pardon me; In cunning I must draw my sword upon you; Draw; seem to defend yourself; now 'quit you well. 32 Yield;—come before my father. Light, ho! here! Fly, brother. Torches ! torches! So, farewell. Exit Edgar. Some blood drawn on me would beget opinion [Wounds his arm.] Of my more fierce endeavour: I have seen drunkards Do more than this in sport. Father! father! Stop, stop. No help?
Enter Gloucester, and Servants with Torches.
Glo. Now, Edmund, where's the villain?
Edm. Here stood he in the dark, his sharp sword out, 40 ​Mumbling of wicked charms, conjuring the moon To stand auspicious mistress.
Glo. But where is he?
Edm. Look, sir, I bleed.
Glo. Where is the villain, Edmund?
Edm. Fled this way, sir. When by no means he could— 44
Glo. Pursue him, ho! Go after. [Exeunt some Servants.] 'By no means' what?
Edm. Persuade me to the murder of your lordship; But that I told him, the revenging gods 'Gainst parricides did all their thunders bend; Spoke with how manifold and strong a bond 49 The child was bound to the father; sir, in fine, Seeing how loathly opposite I stood To his unnatural purpose, in fell motion, 52 With his prepared sword he charges home My unprovided body, lanc'd mine arm: But when he saw my best alarum'd spirits Bold in the quarrel's right, rous'd to the encounter, 56 Or whether gasted by the noise I made, Full suddenly he fled.
Glo. Let him fly far: Not in this land shall he remain uncaught; And found—dispatch. The noble duke my master, 60 My worthy arch and patron, comes to-night: By his authority I will proclaim it, That he which finds him shall deserve our thanks, Bringing the murderous coward to the stake; 64 He that conceals him, death.
Edm. When I dissuaded him from his intent, And found him pight to do it, with curst speech ​I threaten'd to discover him: he replied, 68 'Thou unpossessing bastard! dost thou think, If I would stand against thee, would the reposal Of any trust, virtue, or worth, in thee Make thy words faith'd? No: what I should deny,— 72 As this I would; ay, though thou didst produce My very character,—I'd turn it all To thy suggestion, plot, and damned practice: And thou must make a dullard of the world, 76 If they not thought the profits of my death Were very pregnant and potential spurs To make thee seek it.'
Glo. Strong and fasten'd villain! Would he deny his letter? I never got him. 80 Tucket within. Hark! the duke's trumpets. I know not why he comes. All ports I'll bar; the villain shall not 'scape; The duke must grant me that: besides, his picture I will send far and near, that all the kingdom 84 May have due note of him; and of my land, Loyal and natural boy, I'll work the means To make thee capable.
Enter Cornwall, Regan, and Attendants.
Corn. How now, my noble friend! since I came hither,— 88 Which I can call but now,—I have heard strange news.
​Reg. If it be true, all vengeance comes too short Which can pursue the offender. How dost, my lord?
Glo. O ! madam, my old heart is crack' d, it's crack'd. 92
Reg. What! did my father's godson seek your life? He whom my father nam'd? your Edgar?
Glo. O! lady, lady, shame would have it hid.
Reg. Was he not companion with the riotous knights 96 That tend upon my father?
Glo. I know not, madam; 'tis too bad, too bad.
Edm. Yes, madam, he was of that consort.
Reg. No marvel then though he were ill affected; 100 'Tis they have put him on the old man's death, To have the expense and waste of his revenues. I have this present evening from my sister Been well-inform'd of them, and with such cautions 104 That if they come to sojourn at my house, I'll not be there.
Corn. Nor I, assure thee, Regan. Edmund, I hear that you have shown your father A child-like office.
Edm. 'Twas my duty, sir. 108
Glo. He did bewray his practice; and receiv'd This hurt you see, striving to apprehend him.
Corn. Is he pursu'd?
Glo. Ay, my good lord.
Corn. If he be taken he shall never more 112 Be fear'd of doing harm; make your own purpose, How in my strength you please. For you, Edmund, ​Whose virtue and obedience doth this instant So much commend itself, you shall be ours: 116 Natures of such deep trust we shall much need; You we first seize on.
Edm. I shall serve you, sir, Truly, however else.
Glo. For him I thank your Grace.
Corn. You know not why we came to visit you,— 120
Reg. Thus out of season, threading dark-ey'd night: Occasions, noble Gloucester, of some prize, Wherein we must have use of your advice. Our father he hath writ, so hath our sister, 124 Of differences, which I best thought it fit To answer from our home; the several messengers From hence attend dispatch. Our good old friend, Lay comforts to your bosom, and bestow 128 Your needful counsel to our businesses, Which craves the instant use.
Glo. I serve you, madam. Your Graces are right welcome. Exeunt. Flourish.
Scene Two
[Before Gloucester's Castle]
Enter Kent and Steward [Oswald] severally.
Osw. Good dawning to thee, friend: art of this house?
Kent. Ay.
Osw. Where may we set our horses? 4
Kent. I' the mire.
​Osw. Prithee, if thou lovest me, tell me.
Kent. I love thee not.
Osw. Why, then I care not for thee. 8
Kent. If I had thee in Lipsbury pinfold, I would make thee care for me.
Osw. Why dost thou use me thus? I know thee not. 12
Kent. Fellow, I know thee.
Osw. What dost thou know me for?
Kent. A knave, a rascal, an eater of broken meats; a base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three- suited, hundred-pound, filthy, worsted-stocking knave; a lily-liver'd, action-taking knave; a whoreson, glass-gazing, superserviceable, finical rogue; one-trunk-inheriting slave; one that wouldst be a bawd, in way of good service, and art nothing but the composition of a knave, beggar, coward, pandar, and the son and heir of a mongrel bitch: one whom I will beat into clamorous whining if thou deniest the least syllable of thy addition. 26
Osw. Why, what a monstrous fellow art thou, thus to rail on one that is neither known of thee nor knows thee! 29
Kent. What a brazen-faced varlet art thou, to deny thou knowest me! Is it two days since I tripped up thy heels and beat thee before the king? Draw, you rogue; for, though it be night, yet the moon shines: I'll make a sop o' the moonshine of you. [Drawing his sword.] ​Draw, you whoreson, cullionly barber-monger, draw. 37
Osw. Away! I have nothing to do with thee.
Kent. Draw, you rascal; you come with let- ters against the king, and take vanity the pup- pet's part against the royalty of her father. Draw, you rogue, or I'll so carbonado your shanks: draw, you rascal; come your ways.
Osw. Help, ho! murder! help! 44
Kent. Strike, you slave; stand, rogue, stand; you neat slave, strike. [Beating him.]
Osw. Help, oh! murder! murder!
Enter Bastard [Edmund], Cornwall, Regan, Gloucester, [and] Servants.
Edm. How now! What's the matter? 48
Kent. With you, goodman boy, if you please: come, I'll flesh ye; come on, young master.
Glo. Weapons! arms! What's the matter here?
Corn. Keep peace, upon your lives: 52 He dies that strikes again. What is the matter?
Reg. The messengers from our sister and the king.
Corn. What is your difference? speak.
Osw. I am scarce in breath, my lord. 56
Kent. No marvel, you have so bestirred your valour. You cowardly rascal, nature disclaims in thee: a tailor made thee.
Corn. Thou art a strange fellow; a tailor make a man? 61
Kent. Ay, a tailor, sir: a stone-cutter or a ​painter could not have made him so ill, though they had been but two hours o' the trade. 64
Corn. Speak yet, how grew your quarrel?
Osw. This ancient ruffian, sir, whose life I have spar'd at suit of his grey beard,— 67
Kent. Thou whoreson zed! thou unnecessary letter! My lord, if you will give me leave, I will tread this unbolted villain into mortar, and daub the wall of a jakes with him. Spare my grey beard, you wagtail? 72
Corn. Peace, sirrah! You beastly knave, know you no reverence?
Kent. Yes, sir; but anger hath a privilege.
Corn. Why art thou angry? 76
Kent. That such a slave as this should wear a sword, Who wears no honesty. Such smiling rogues as these, Like rats, oft bite the holy cords a-twain Which are too intrinse t' unloose; smooth every passion 80 That in the natures of their lords rebel; Bring oil to fire, snow to their colder moods; Renege, affirm, and turn their halcyon beaks With every gale and vary of their masters, 84 Knowing nought, like dogs, but following. A plague upon your epileptic visage! Smile you my speeches, as I were a fool? Goose, if I had you upon Sarum plain, 88 I'd drive ye cackling home to Camelot.
Corn. What! art thou mad, old fellow?
Glo. How fell you out? say that.
​Kent. No contraries hold more antipathy 92 Than I and such a knave.
Corn. Why dost thou call him knave? What is his fault?
Kent. His countenance likes me not.
Corn. No more, perchance, does mine, nor his, nor hers. 97
Kent. Sir, 'tis my occupation to be plain: I have seen better faces in my time Than stands on any shoulder that I see 100 Before me at this instant.
Corn. This is some fellow, Who, having been prais'd for bluntness, doth affect A saucy roughness, and constrains the garb Quite from his nature: he cannot flatter, he, 104 An honest mind and plain, he must speak truth: An they will take it, so; if not, he's plain. These kind of knaves I know, which in this plainness Harbour more craft and more corrupter ends Than twenty silly-ducking observants, 109 That stretch their duties nicely.
Kent. Sir, in good sooth, in sincere verity, Under the allowance of your grand aspect, 112 Whose influence, like the wreath of radiant fire On flickering Phœbus' front,—
Corn. What mean'st by this?
Kent. To go out of my dialect, which you discommend so much. I know, sir, I am no flatterer: he that beguiled you in a plain accent was a plain knave; which for my part I will not be, though I should win your displeasure to en- treat me to 't. 120
Corn. What was the offence you gave him?
Osw. I never gave him any: It pleas'd the king his master very late To strike at me, upon his misconstruction; 124 When he, conjunct, and flattering his displeasure, Tripp'd me behind; being down, insulted, rail'd, And put upon him such a deal of man, That worthied him, got praises of the king 128 For him attempting who was self-subdu'd; And, in the fleshment of this dread exploit, Drew on me here again.
Kent. None of these rogues and cowards But Ajax is their fool.
Corn. Fetch forth the stocks! 132 You stubborn ancient knave, you reverend braggart, We'll teach you.
Kent. Sir, I am too old to learn. Call not your stocks for me; I serve the king, On whose employment I was sent to you; 136 You shall do small respect, show too bold malice Against the grace and person of my master, Stocking his messenger.
Corn. Fetch forth the stocks! As I have life and honour, 140 There shall he sit till noon.
Reg. Till noon! Till night, my lord; and all night too.
Kent. Why, madam, if I were your father's dog, You should not use me so.
Reg. Sir, being his knave, I will. 144
Corn. This is a fellow of the self-same colour Our sister speaks of. Come, bring away the stocks.
Stocks brought out.
Glo. Let me beseech your Grace not to do so. [His fault is much, and the good king his master 148 Will check him for 't: your purpos'd low correction Is such as basest and contemned'st wretches For pilferings and most common trespasses Are punish'd with:] the king must take it ill, 152 That he, so slightly valu'd in his messenger, Should have him thus restrain'd.
Corn. I'll answer that.
Reg. My sister may receive it much more worse To have her gentleman abus'd, assaulted, 156 For following her affairs. Put in his legs. [Kent is put in the stocks.] Come, my good lord, away.
[Exeunt all but Gloucester and Kent.]
Glo. I am sorry for thee, friend; 'tis the duke's pleasure, Whose disposition, all the world well knows, 160 Will not be rubb'd nor stopp'd: I'll entreat for thee.
Kent. Pray, do not, sir. I have watch'd and travell'd hard; Some time I shall sleep out, the rest I'll whistle. A good man's fortune may grow out at heels: 164 Give you good morrow!
Glo. The duke's to blame in this; 'twill be ill taken.
Exit.
Kent. Good king, that must approve the common saw, Thou out of heaven's benediction com'st 168 To the warm sun. Approach, thou beacon to this under globe, That by thy comfortable beams I may ​Peruse this letter. Nothing almost sees miracles But misery: I know 'tis from Cordelia, 173 Who hath most fortunately been inform'd Of my obscured course; and shall find time From this enormous state, seeking to give 176 Losses their remedies. All weary and o'er-watch'd, Take vantage, heavy eyes, not to behold This shameful lodging. Fortune, good night, smile once more; turn thy wheel!
[He sleeps.]
Scene Three
[A Heath]
Enter Edgar.
Edg. I heard myself proclaim'd; And by the happy hollow of a tree Escap'd the hunt. No port is free; no place, That guard, and most unusual vigilance, 4 Does not attend my taking. While I may 'scape I will preserve myself; and am bethought To take the basest and most poorest shape That ever penury, in contempt of man, 8 Brought near to beast; my face I'll grime with filth, Blanket my loins, elf all my hair in knots, And with presented nakedness outface The winds and persecutions of the sky. 12 The country gives me proof and precedent Of Bedlam beggars, who with roaring voices, Strike in their numb'd and mortified bare arms Pins, wooden pricks, nails, sprigs of rosemary; And with this horrible object, from low farms, ​Poor pelting villages, sheep-cotes, and mills, Sometime with lunatic bans, sometime with prayers, Enforce their charity. Poor Turlygood! poor Tom! 20 That's something yet: Edgar I nothing am. Exit.
Scene Four
[Before Gloucester's Castle. Kent in the Stocks]
Enter Lear, Fool, and Gentleman.
Lear. 'Tis strange that they should so depart from home, And not send back my messenger.
Gent. As I learn'd, The night before there was no purpose in them Of this remove.
Kent. Hail to thee, noble master! 4
Lear. Ha! Mak'st thou this shame thy pastime?
Kent. No, my lord.
Fool. Ha, ha! he wears cruel garters. Horses are tied by the head, dogs and bears by the neck, monkeys by the loins, and men by the legs: when a man is over-lusty at legs, then he wears wooden nether-stocks.
Lear. What's he that hath so much thy place mistook 12 To set thee here?
Kent. It is both he and she, Your son and daughter.
Lear. No.
Kent. Yes. 16
​Lear. No, I say.
Kent. I say, yea.
Lear. No, no; they would not.
Kent. Yes, they have. 20
Lear. By Jupiter, I swear, no.
Kent. By Juno, I swear, ay.
Lear. They durst not do 't; They could not, would not do 't; 'tis worse than murder, To do upon respect such violent outrage. 24 Resolve me, with all modest haste, which way Thou mightst deserve, or they impose, this usage, Coming from us.
Kent. My lord, when at their home I did commend your highness' letters to them, Ere I was risen from the place that show'd 29 My duty kneeling, there came a reeking post, Stew'd in his haste, half breathless, panting forth From Goneril his mistress salutations; 32 Deliver'd letters, spite of intermission, Which presently they read: on whose contents They summon'd up their meiny, straight took horse; Commanded me to follow, and attend 36 The leisure of their answer; gave me cold looks: And meeting here the other messenger, Whose welcome, I perceiv'd, had poison'd mine,— Being the very fellow which of late 40 Display'd so saucily against your highness,— Having more man than wit about me,—drew: He rais'd the house with loud and coward cries. Your son and daughter found this trespass worth 44 The shame which here it suffers.
Fool. Winter's not gone yet, if the wild geese fly that way. Fathers that wear rags 48 Do make their children blind, But fathers that bear bags Shall see their children kind. Fortune, that arrant whore, 52 Ne'er turns the key to the poor. But for all this thou shalt have as many dolours for thy daughters as thou canst tell in a year.
Lear. O! how this mother swells up toward my heart; 56 Hysterica passio! down, thou climbing sorrow! Thy element's below. Where is this daughter?
Kent. With the earl, sir: here within.
Lear. Follow me not; stay here. Exit.
Gent. Made you no more offence than what you speak of?
Kent. None. How chance the king comes with so small a number? 64
Fool. An thou hadst been set i' the stocks for that question, thou hadst well deserved it.
Kent. Why, fool? 67
Fool. We'll set thee to school to an ant, to teach thee there's no labouring i' the winter. All that follow their noses are led by their eyes but blind men; and there's not a nose among twenty but can smell him that's stinking. Let go thy hold when a great wheel runs down a hill, lest it break thy neck with following it; but the great one that goes up the hill, let him draw thee after. ​When a wise man gives thee better counsel, give me mine again: I would have none but knaves follow it, since a fool gives it. That sir which serves and seeks for gain, And follows but for form, 80 Will pack when it begins to rain, And leave thee in the storm. But I will tarry; the fool will stay, And let the wise man fly: 84 The knave turns fool that runs away; The fool no knave, perdy.
Kent. Where learn'd you this, fool?
Fool. Not i' the stocks, fool. 88
Enter Lear, and Gloucester.
Lear. Deny to speak with me! They are sick! they are weary, They have travell'd hard to-night! Mere fetches, The images of revolt and flying off. Fetch me a better answer.
Glo. My dear lord, 92 You know the fiery quality of the duke; How unremovable and fix'd he is In his own course.
Lear. Vengeance! plague! death! confusion! Fiery! what quality? Why, Gloucester, Gloucester, 97 I'd speak with the Duke of Cornwall and his wife.
Glo. Well, my good lord, I have inform'd them so.
Lear. Inform'd them! Dost thou understand me, man? 100
Glo. Ay, my good lord.
Lear. The king would speak with Cornwall; the dear father ​Would with his daughter speak, commands her service: 103 Are they inform'd of this? My breath and blood! Fiery! the fiery duke! Tell the hot duke that— No, but not yet; may be he is not well: Infirmity doth still neglect all office Whereto our health is bound; we are not ourselves 108 When nature, being oppress'd, commands the mind To suffer with the body. I'll forbear; And am fall'n out with my more headier will, To take the indispos'd and sickly fit 112 For the sound man. Death on my state! [Looking on Kent.] Wherefore Should he sit here? This act persuades me That this remotion of the duke and her Is practice only. Give me my servant forth. 116 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. 120
Glo. I would have all well betwixt you. Exit.
Lear. O, me! my heart, my rising heart! but, down!
Fool. Cry to it, nuncle, as the cockney did to the eels when she put 'em i' the paste alive; she knapped 'em o' the coxcombs with a stick, and cried, 'Down, wantons, down!' 'Twas her brother that, in pure kindness to his horse, buttered his hay. 128
Enter Cornwall, Regan, Gloucester, [and] Servants.
Lear. Good morrow to you both.
Corn. Hail to your Grace.
Kent here set at liberty.
Reg. I am glad to see your highness.
Lear. Regan, I think you are; I know what reason I have to think so: if thou shouldst not be glad, I would divorce me from thy mother's tomb, 133 Sepulchring an adult'ress.—[To Kent.] O! are you free? Some other time for that. Beloved Regan, Thy sister's naught: O Regan! she hath tied 136 Sharp-tooth'd unkindness, like a vulture, here: [Points to his heart.] I can scarce speak to thee; thou'lt not believe With how deprav'd a quality—O Regan!
Reg. I pray you, sir, take patience. I have hope 140 You less know how to value her desert Than she to scant her duty.
Lear. Say, how is that?
Reg. I cannot think my sister in the least Would fail her obligation: if, sir, perchance 144 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!
Reg. O, sir! you are old; 148 Nature in you stands on the very verge Of her confine: you should be rul'd and led By some discretion that discerns your state Better than you yourself. Therefore I pray you That to our sister you do make return; 153 Say, you have wrong'd her, sir.
Lear. Ask her forgiveness? Do you but mark how this becomes the house: ​'Dear daughter, I confess that I am old; 156 Age is unnecessary: on my knees I beg That you'll vouchsafe me raiment, bed, and food.'
Reg. Good sir, no more; these are unsightly tricks: Return you to my sister.
Lear. Never, Regan. 160 She hath abated me of half my train; Look'd black upon me; struck me with her tongue, Most serpent-like, upon the very heart. All the stor'd vengeances of heaven fall 164 On her ingrateful top! Strike her young bones, You taking airs, with lameness!
Corn. Fie, sir, fie!
Lear. You nimble lightnings, dart your blinding flames Into her scornful eyes! Infect her beauty, 168 You fen-suck'd fogs, drawn by the powerful sun, To fall and blast her pride!
Reg. O the blest gods! So will you wish on me, When the rash mood is on. 172
Lear. No, Regan, thou shalt never have my curse: Thy tender-hefted nature shall not give Thee o'er to harshness: her eyes are fierce, but thine Do comfort and not burn. 'Tis not in thee 176 To grudge my pleasures, to cut off my train, To bandy hasty words, to scant my sizes, And, in conclusion, to oppose the bolt Against my coming in: thou better know'st 180 The offices of nature, bond of childhood, Effects of courtesy, dues of gratitude; Thy half o' the kingdom hast thou not forgot, Wherein I thee endow'd.
​Reg Good sir, to the purpose. 184
Lear. Who put my man i' the stocks?
Tucket within.
Corn. What trumpet's that?
Reg. I know 't my sister's; this approves her letter, That she would soon be here. Is your lady come?
Enter Steward [Oswald.]
Lear. This is a slave, whose easy-borrow'd pride 188 Dwells in the fickle grace of her he follows. Out, varlet, from my sight!
Corn. What means your Grace?
Lear. Who stock'd my servant? Regan, I have good hope Thou didst not know on 't. Who comes here? O heavens, 192
Enter Goneril.
If you do love old men, if your sweet sway Allow obedience, if yourselves are old, Make it your cause; send down and take my part! [To Goneril.] Art not asham'd to look upon this beard? 196 O Regan, wilt thou take her by the hand?
Gon. Why not by the hand, sir? How have I offended? All's not offence that indiscretion finds And dotage terms so.
Lear. O sides! you are too tough; Will you yet hold? How came my man i' the stocks? 201
​Corn. I set him there, sir: but his own disorders Deserv'd much less advancement.
Lear. You! did you?
Reg. I pray you, father, being weak, seem so. If, till the expiration of your month, 205 You will return and sojourn with my sister, Dismissing half your train, come then to me: I am now from home, and out of that provision Which shall be needful for your entertainment.
Lear. Return to her? and fifty men dismiss'd! No, rather I abjure all roofs, and choose To wage against the enmity o' the air; 212 To be a comrade with the wolf and owl, Necessity's sharp pinch! Return with her! Why, the hot-blooded France, that dowerless took Our youngest born, I could as well be brought To knee his throne, and, squire-like, pension beg To keep base life afoot. Return with her! Persuade me rather to be slave and sumpter To this detested groom.
Gon. At your choice, sir. 220
Lear. I prithee, daughter, do not make me mad: I will not trouble thee, my child; farewell. Well no more meet, no more see one another; But yet thou art my flesh, my blood, my daughter; 224 Or rather a disease that's in my flesh, Which I must needs call mine: thou art a boil, A plague-sore, an embossed carbuncle, In my corrupted blood. But I'll not chide thee; 228 Let shame come when it will, I do not call it: I do not bid the thunder-bearer shoot, Nor tell tales of thee to high-judging Jove. ​Mend when thou canst; be better at thy leisure: 232 I can be patient; I can stay with Regan, I and my hundred knights.
Reg. Not altogether so: I look'd not for you yet, nor am provided For your fit welcome. Give ear, sir, to my sister; 236 For those that mingle reason with your passion Must be content to think you old, and so— But she knows what she does.
Lear. Is this well spoken?
Reg. I dare avouch it, sir: what! fifty followers? 240 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, 244 Hold amity? 'Tis hard; almost impossible.
Gon. Why might not you, my lord, receive attendance From those that she calls servants, or from mine?
Reg. Why not, my lord? If then they chanc'd to slack you 248 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 Will I give place or notice. 252
Lear. I gave you all—
Reg. And in good time you gave it.
Lear. Made you my guardians, my depositaries, But kept a reservation to be follow'd With such a number. What! must I come to you 256 With five-and-twenty? Regan, said you so?
Reg. And speak 't again, my lord; no more with me.
​Lear. Those wicked creatures yet do look well-favour'd, When others are more wicked; not being the worst 260 Stands in some rank of praise. [To Goneril.] I'll go with thee: Thy fifty yet doth double five-and-twenty, And thou art twice her love.
Gon. Hear me, my lord. What need you five-and-twenty, ten, or five, 264 To follow in a house, where twice so many Have a command to tend you?
Reg. What need one?
Lear. O! reason not the need; our basest beggars Are in the poorest thing superfluous: 268 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, 272 Which scarcely keeps thee warm. But, for true need,— You heavens, give me that patience, patience I need! You see me here, you gods, a poor old man, As full of grief as age; wretched in both! 276 If it be you that stir these daughters' hearts Against their father, fool me not so much To bear it tamely; touch me with noble anger, And let not women's weapons, water-drops, 280 Stain my man's cheeks! No, you unnatural hags, I will have such revenges on you both That all the world shall—I will do such things,— What they are yet I know not,—but they shall be 284 ​The terrors of the earth. You think I'll weep; No, I'll not weep: I have full cause of weeping, but this heart Storm and Tempest. Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws 288 Or ere I'll weep. O fool! I shall go mad.
Exeunt [Lear, Gloucester, Kent, and Fool.]
Corn. Let us withdraw; 'twill be a storm.
Reg. This house is little: the old man and his people Cannot be well bestow'd. 292
Gon. 'Tis his own blame; 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. 296 Where is my Lord of Gloucester?
Corn. Follow'd the old man forth. He is return'd.
Enter Gloucester.
Glo. The king is in high rage.
Corn. Whither is he going?
Glo. He calls to horse; but will I know not whither. 300
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 304 There's scarce a bush.
Reg. O! sir, to wilful men, The injuries that they themselves procure ​Must be their schoolmasters. Shut up your doors; He is attended with a desperate train, 308 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.
Footnotes to Act II
Scene One
​11 toward: in prospect ​19 queasy question: hazardous trial 28 party: side ​52 in fell motion: with fierce skill 57 gasted: scared 61 arch: chief 67 pight: fixed curst: sharp ​68 discover: expose 69 unpossessing: incapable of inheriting 72 faith'd: credited 75 suggestion: evil prompting damned practice: damnable trickery 78 pregnant: inciting 80 S. d. Tucket: trumpet-notes, indicating march-signal 82 ports: gates 86 natural: real, my own 87 capable: legal heir ​102 expense and waste: wasteful spending 108 childlike: filial 109 bewray: betray 113 of doing: lest he do ​122 prize: advantage 126 from: away from
Scene Two
​9 Lipsbury pinfold; cf. n. 15 broken meats: scraps 16 three-suited; cf. n. 18 action-taking: given to lawsuits 19 glass-gazing: fond of the mirror superserviceable: officious 20 one-trunk-inheriting: owning only one trunk 34 sop o' the moonshine: make moonlight shine through him ​36 cullionly: knavish barber-monger: patron of the barber's shop 40 vanity the puppet's: Vanity, a personified character in the Morality plays 42 carbonado: slice 46 neat: mere, very 49 goodman: a plebeian form of address 58 disclaims: claims no share ​68 zed; cf. n. 70 unbolted: unrefined 71 a jakes: a privy 79, 80 holy cords . . . too intrinse; cf. n. 83 Renege: deny halcyon; cf. n. 84 gale: breeze vary: variation 88 Sarum: Salisbury 89 Camelot; cf. n. ​103 constrains the garb: forces the fashion 104 from: contrary to 109 observants: courtiers 111 sooth: truth ​125 conjunct: in league 128 worthied: covered with dignity 130 fleshment: first taste 132 Ajax; cf. n. 146 away: hither; cf. n. ​149 check: reprimand 167 approve: illustrate 169 sun; cf. n. ​172 miracles; cf. n.
Scene Three
​10 elf: twist 14 Bedlam; cf. n. ​18 pelting: contemptible 19 bans: curses 20 Turlygood; cf. n.
Scene Four
​7 cruel: pun on crewel, i.e., worsted 11 nether-stocks: stocks was an old word for stockings ​24 upon respect: deliberately 25 Resolve: inform 33 spite of intermission: despite my prior claim 35 meiny: people ​54 dolours: pun on dollars 55 tell: count 56 mother: vertigo, a disease called the "hysteric passion" ​81 pack: hurry off 86 perdy: by God, pardieu 89 Deny: refuse 90 fetches: tricks 91 flying off: desertion ​107 office: duty 111 more headier: too headstrong 115 remotion: removal 120 cry sleep to death: murder sleep 123 cockney: cook 125 knapped: rapped (pronounce the k) ​136 naught: worthless 139 quality: manner 150 confine: territory 155 house: household order ​161 abated: deprived 166 taking: possessing, in the sense of malignant 170 fall: make fall 174 tender-hefted: softly framed 178 sizes: allowances ​202 disorders: disorderly acts 212 wage: wage war 219 sumpter: drudge 227 embossed: swollen ​252 notice: countenance ​268 superfluous: possessed of more than they need 271 gorgeous; cf. n. 278 fool . . . much: make me not such a fool ​288 flaws: pieces 295 For his particular: in regard to himself 304 ruffle: bluster