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Say, how is that?
Re. 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 sueh ground, and to such wholesome end,
As clears her from all blame.
Lear. My curses on her!
0, sir, you are old ;
Nature in you stands on the very verge
Of her confine : you should be ruled, 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.
Ask her forgiveness?
but mark how this becomes the house ? 1 Dear daughter, I confess that I am old; Age is unnecessary: on my knees I beg, [kneeling. That you
Öll vouchsafe me raiment, bed, and food.' Re. Good sir, no more; these are unsightly
Return you to my sister.
Never, Regan :
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 stored vengeances of Heaven fall
On her ingrateful top! Strike her young bones,
You taking airs, with lameness !
Fie, fie, fie!
Lear. You nimble lightnings, dart your blinding
Into her scornful eyes!. Infect her beauty,
You fen-suck'd fogs, drawn by the powerful sun,
To fall and blast her pride!
O the bless'd gods !
So will you wish on me, when the rash mood is on.
Lear. No, Regan, thou shalt never have my
Thy tender-hefted 1 nature shall not give
Thee o’er to harshness; her eyes are fierce, but thine
Do comfort, and not burn: 'tis not in thee
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
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.
Good sir, to the purpose.
[trumpets within. Lear. Who put my man i' the stocks ? Corn.
What trumpet's that?
Re. I know ’t, my sister's: this approves her
letter, That she would soon be here.—Is your lady come?
Lear. This is a slave, whose easy-borrow'd pride 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 of 't Who comes here? O
If you do love old men, if your sweet sway
Allow 1 obedience, if yourselves are old,
Make it your cause; send down, and take my
Art not ashamed to look upon this beard ?
[to Goneril. O, Regan, wilt thou take her by the hand ? Gon. Why not by the hand, sir? How have I
All 's not offence, that indiscretion finds,
And dotage terms so.
O, sides, you are too tough!
Will you yet hold ? How came my man i' the
Corn. I set him there, sir; but his own disorders
Deserved much less advancement.
You! did you ?
Re. I pray you, father, being weak, seem so.
If, till the expiration of your month,
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;
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 1
To this detested groom.
[looking on the Steward. Gon.
At your choice, sir. Lear. I pr’ythee, daughter, do not make me mad: I will not trouble thee, my child; farewell : We'll no more meet, no more see one another : But yet thou art my flesh, my blood, my daughter ; Or, rather, a disease that's in my flesh,
I A horse that carries necessaries on a journey.
Which I must needs call mine : thou art a boil,
A plague-sore, an embossed 1 carbuncle,
In my corrupted blood : but I 'll not chide thee;
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 :
I can be patient; I can stay with Regan,
I, and my hundred knights.
Not altogether so, sir ;
I look'd not for you yet, nor am provided
For your fit welcome. Give ear, sir, to my sister :
For those that mingle reason with your passion,
Must be content to think you old, and so-
But she knows what she does.
Is this well spoken now?
Re. I dare avouch it, sir. What, fifty followers ?
Is it not well? What should
need of more,
Yea, or so many ; sith 2 that both charge and danger
Speak ’gainst so great a number? How, in one
Should many people, under two commands,
Hold amity ? 'Tis hard; almost impossible.
Gon. Why might not you, my lord, receive at-
From those that she calls servants, or from mine?
Re. Why not, my lord ? If then they chanced to