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dearly; and in woman out-paramour'd the Turk; false of heart, light of ear, bloody of hand; hog in sloth, fox in
stealth, wolf in greediness, dog in madness, lion in prey. Let not the creaking of shoes nor the rustling of silks
betray thy poor heart to woman: keep thy foot out of brothel, thy hand out of placket, thy pen from lender's
book, and defy the foul fiend.--Still through the hawthorn blows the cold wind: says suum, mun, nonny.
Dolphin my boy, boy, sessa! let him trot by.
[Storm still continues.]
Lear.
Why, thou wert better in thy grave than to answer with thy
uncovered body this extremity of the skies.--Is man no more than this? Consider him well. Thou owest the
worm no silk, the beast no hide, the sheep no wool, the cat no perfume.--Ha! here's three on's are
sophisticated! Thou art the thing itself:
unaccommodated man is no more but such a poor, bare, forked animal as thou art.--Off, off, you
lendings!--Come, unbutton here.
[Tears off his clothes.]
Fool.
Pr'ythee, nuncle, be contented; 'tis a naughty night to swim in.--Now a little fire in a wild field were like an
old lecher's heart,--a small spark, all the rest on's body cold.--Look, here comes a walking fire.
Edg.
This is the foul fiend Flibbertigibbet: he begins at curfew, and walks till the first cock; he gives the web and
the pin, squints the eye, and makes the harelip; mildews the white wheat, and hurts the poor creature of earth.
Swithold footed thrice the old;
He met the nightmare, and her nine-fold;
Bid her alight
And her troth plight,
And aroint thee, witch, aroint thee!
Kent.
How fares your grace?
[Enter Gloster with a torch.]
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Lear.
What's he?
Kent.
Who's there? What is't you seek?
Glou.
What are you there? Your names?
Edg.
Poor Tom; that eats the swimming frog, the toad, the todpole, the wall-newt and the water; that in the fury of
his heart, when the foul fiend rages, eats cow-dung for sallets; swallows the old rat and the ditch-dog; drinks
the green mantle of the standing pool; who is whipped from tithing to tithing, and stocked, punished, and
imprisoned; who hath had three suits to his back, six shirts to his body, horse to ride, and weapons to wear;--
But mice and rats, and such small deer,
Have been Tom's food for seven long year.
Beware my follower.--Peace, Smulkin; peace, thou fiend!
Glou.
What, hath your grace no better company?
Edg.
The prince of darkness is a gentleman:
Modo he's call'd, and Mahu.
Glou.
Our flesh and blood, my lord, is grown so vile
That it doth hate what gets it.
Edg.
Poor Tom's a-cold.
Glou.
Go in with me: my duty cannot suffer
To obey in all your daughters' hard commands;
Though their injunction be to bar my doors,
And let this tyrannous night take hold upon you,
Yet have I ventur'd to come seek you out
And bring you where both fire and food is ready.
Lear.
First let me talk with this philosopher.--
What is the cause of thunder?
Kent.
Good my lord, take his offer; go into the house.
Lear.
I'll talk a word with this same learned Theban.--
What is your study?
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Edg.
How to prevent the fiend and to kill vermin.
Lear.
Let me ask you one word in private.
Kent.
Importune him once more to go, my lord;
His wits begin to unsettle.
Glou.
Canst thou blame him?
His daughters seek his death:--ah, that good Kent!--
He said it would be thus,--poor banish'd man!--
Thou say'st the king grows mad; I'll tell thee, friend,
I am almost mad myself: I had a son,
Now outlaw'd from my blood; he sought my life
But lately, very late: I lov'd him, friend,--
No father his son dearer: true to tell thee,
[Storm continues.]
The grief hath craz'd my wits.--What a night's this!--
I do beseech your grace,--
Lear.
O, cry you mercy, sir.--
Noble philosopher, your company.
Edg.
Tom's a-cold.
Glou.
In, fellow, there, into the hovel; keep thee warm.
Lear.
Come, let's in all.
Kent.
This way, my lord.
Lear.
With him;
I will keep still with my philosopher.
Kent.
Good my lord, soothe him; let him take the fellow.
Glou.
Take him you on.
Kent.
Sirrah, come on; go along with us.
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Lear.
Come, good Athenian.
Glou.
No words, no words: hush.
Edg.
Child Rowland to the dark tower came,
His word was still--Fie, foh, and fum,
I smell the blood of a British man.
[Exeunt.]
Scene V. A Room in Gloster's Castle.
[Enter Cornwall and Edmund.]
Corn.
I will have my revenge ere I depart his house.
Edm.
How, my lord, I may be censured, that nature thus gives way to loyalty, something fears me to think of.
Corn.
I now perceive it was not altogether your brother's evil
disposition made him seek his death; but a provoking merit, set a-work by a reproveable badness in himself.
Edm.
How malicious is my fortune, that I must repent to be just! This is the letter he spoke of, which approves him
an intelligent party to the advantages of France. O heavens! that this treason were not--or not I the detector!
Corn.
Go with me to the duchess.
Edm.
If the matter of this paper be certain, you have mighty business in hand.
Corn.
True or false, it hath made thee earl of Gloster. Seek out
where thy father is, that he may be ready for our apprehension.
Edm.
[Aside.] If I find him comforting the king, it will stuff his suspicion more fully.--I will persever in my course
of loyalty, though the conflict be sore between that and my blood.
Corn.
I will lay trust upon thee; and thou shalt find a dearer father in my love.
[Exeunt.]
Scene VI. A Chamber in a Farmhouse adjoining the Castle.
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[Enter Gloster, Lear, Kent, Fool, and Edgar.]
Glou.
Here is better than the open air; take it thankfully. I will piece out the comfort with what addition I can: I will
not be long from you.
Kent.
All the power of his wits have given way to his impatience:-- the gods reward your kindness!
[Exit Gloster.]
Edg.
Frateretto calls me; and tells me Nero is an angler in the lake of darkness.--Pray, innocent, and beware the foul
fiend.
Fool.
Pr'ythee, nuncle, tell me whether a madman be a gentleman or a yeoman.
Lear.
A king, a king!
Fool.
No, he's a yeoman that has a gentleman to his son; for he's a mad yeoman that sees his son a gentleman before
him.
Lear.
To have a thousand with red burning spits
Come hissing in upon 'em,--
Edg.
The foul fiend bites my back.
Fool.
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