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labouring i' th' 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 upward, 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,

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.

The knave turns fool that runs away;

The fool no knave, perdy.

Kent. Where learn'd you this, fool?

Fool. Not i' th' stocks, fool.

Enter Lear and Gloucester

Lear. Deny to speak with me? They are sick? they are weary?

They have travell'd all the night? Mere fetches-

The images of revolt and flying off!

Fetch me a better answer.

Glou. My dear lord,

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,

I'ld speak with the Duke of Cornwall and his wife.

Glou. Well, my good lord, I have inform'd them so.

Lear. Inform'd them? Dost thou understand me, man?

Glou. 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 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

When nature, being oppress'd, commands the mind

To suffer with the body. I'll forbear;

And am fallen out with my more headier will,

To take the indispos'd and sickly fit

For the sound man.- Death on my state! Wherefore

Should be sit here? This act persuades me

That this remotion of the Duke and her

Is practice only. Give me my servant forth.

Go tell the Duke and 's wife I'ld 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.

Glou. 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' th' paste alive. She knapp'd 'em o' th' coxcombs with

a stick and cried 'Down, wantons, down!' 'Twas her brother that,

in pure kindness to his horse, buttered his hay.

Enter Cornwall, Regan, Gloucester, 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,

Sepulchring an adultress. [To Kent] O, are you free?

Some other time for that.- Beloved Regan,

Thy sister's naught. O Regan, she hath tied

Sharp-tooth'd unkindness, like a vulture, here!

[Lays his hand on 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

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

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!

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;

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. [Kneels.]

Age