ACT III. SCENE I. A heath. A storm is heard, with thunder and lightning. Kent. Who's here, beside foul weather? Enter Gen. One minded like the weather, most unquietly. Kent. I know you: where's the king? Gen. Contending with the fretful element : Bids the wind blow the earth into the sea, Or swell the curled waters 'bove the main, That things might change or cease; tears his white hair, Which the impetuous blasts, with eyeless rage, Catch in their fury, and make nothing of: Strives in his little world of man to outscorn The to-and-fro-conflicting wind and rain. This night, wherein the cub-drawn bear1 would couch, The lion and the belly-pinched wolf Keep their fur dry, unbonneted he runs, And bids what will take all. Kent. But who is with him? 1 i. e. a bear, whose dugs are drawn dry by its young. Gen. None but the fool, who labors to outjest His heart-struck injuries. Kent. Sir, I do know you; And dare, upon the warrant of my art, Commend a dear thing to you. There is division, Although as yet the face of it be cover'd With mutual cunning, 'twixt Albany and Cornwall; Who have (as who have not, that their great stars Throned and set high?) servants, who seem no less; Which are to France the spies and speculations To make your speed to Dover, you shall find I am a gentleman of blood and breeding; 1 Snuffs are dislikes, and packings underhand contrivances. 2 Samples. And, from some knowlege and assurance, offer Gen. I will talk farther with you. No, do not. Gen. Give me your hand: have you no more to say? Kent. Few words, but to effect, more than all yet: That, when we have found the king, (in which your pain That way; I'll this) he that first lights on him, Holla the other. [Exeunt severally. SCENE II. Another part of the heath. Storm continues. Enter LEAR and FOOL. Lear. Blow, wind, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow! You cataracts, and hurricanoes, spout Till you have drench'd our steeples, drown'd the cocks! You sulphurous and thought-executing fires, Vaunt-couriers to oak-cleaving thunderbolts, Singe my white head! And thou, all-shaking thunder, Strike flat the thick rotundity o' the world; Fool. O nuncle, court holy-water 2 in a dry house is better than this rain-water out o' door. Good nuncle, in, and ask thy daughters' blessing: here's a night pities neither wise men nor fools. Lear. Rumble thy bellyfull! Spit, fire! spout, rain! Nor rain, wind, thunder, fire, are my daughters: Fool. He that has a house to put his head in, has a good head-piece. "The cod-piece that will house, Before the head has any, The head and he shall louse : So beggars marry many. Avant-couriers, French. 2 A proverbial phrase for fair words. : * Obedience. SHAK. XIII. F 'The man that makes his toe What he his heart should make, And turn his sleep to wake.' For there was never yet fair woman, but she made mouths in a glass. Enter KENT. Lear. No, I will be the pattern of all patience; I will say nothing. Kent. Who's there? Fool. Marry, here's grace and a cod-piece, that's a wise man and a fool. Kent. Alas, sir, are you here? things that love night, Love not such nights as these; the wrathful skies Gallow1 the very wanderers of the dark, And make them keep their caves: since I was man, Such sheets of fire, such bursts of horrid thunder, Such groans of roaring wind and rain, I never Remember to have heard: man's nature cannot carry The affliction nor the fear. Lear. Let the great gods, That keep this dreadful pother o'er our heads, Find out their enemies now. Tremble, thou wretch, That hast within thee undivulged crimes, Unwhipp'd of justice: hide thee, thou bloody hand, 1 Scare or frighten. |