King Lear

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
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!
If it be you that stirs 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,
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
The terrors of the earth. You think I'll weep;
No, I'll not weep:--
I have full cause of weeping; but this heart
Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws
Or ere I'll weep.--O fool, I shall go mad!

[Exeunt Lear, Gloster, Kent, and Fool. Storm heard at a
distance.]

Corn.
Let us withdraw; 'twill be a storm.

Reg.
This house is little: the old man and his people
Cannot be well bestow'd.

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.
Where is my lord of Gloster?

Corn.
Followed the old man forth:--he is return'd.

[Re-enter Gloster.]

Glou.
The king is in high rage.

Corn.
Whither is he going?

Glou.
He calls to horse; but will I know not whither.

Corn.
'Tis best to give him way; he leads himself.

Gon.
My lord, entreat him by no means to stay.

Glou.
Alack, the night comes on, and the high winds
Do sorely ruffle; for many miles about
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;
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.]



ACT III.

Scene I. A Heath.

[A storm with thunder and lightning. Enter Kent and a Gentleman,
meeting.]

Kent.
Who's there, besides foul weather?

Gent.
One minded like the weather, most unquietly.

Kent.
I know you. Where's the king?