Glo. He cannot be such a monster.

Edm. Nor is not, fure.

Glo. To his father, that fo tenderly and entirely loves him- -Heav'n and Earth! Edmund, feek him out; wind me into him, I pray you; frame the bufinefs after you own wisdom. I would unftate myself, to be in a due refolution.

Edm. I will feek him, Sir, presently convey the bufinefs as I fhall find means, and acquaint you withal.

Glo. These late eclipfes in the fun and moon portend no good to us; tho' the wisdom of nature can reason it thus and thus, yet nature finds itfelf fcurged by the fequent effects. Love cools, friendship falls off, brothers divide. In cities, mutinies; in countries, difcord ; in palaces, treafon; and the bond crack'd 'twixt fon and father. This villain of mine comes under the prediction, there's fon against father; the King falls from biafs of nature, there's father against child. We have seen the best of our time. Machinations, hollowness, treachery, and all ruinous diforders follow us difquietly to our graves! find out this villain, Edmund; it fhall lose thee nothing, do it carefully-and the noble and true-hearted Kent banish'd! his offence, honefty. "Tis ftrange.. [Exit.

Manet Edmund.

Edm. This is the excellent foppery of the world, that, when we are fick in fortune, (often the furfeits of our own behaviour) we make guilty of our difafters, the fun, the moon and ftars; as if we were villains on neceffity: fools by heavenly compulfion; knaves, thieves, and treacherous, by spherical predominance; drunkards lyars, and adulterers, by an inforc'd obedience of planetary influence; and all that we are evil in, by a divine thrufting on. An admirable evafion of whore-mafter Man, to lay his goatifh difpofition on the charge of a ftar! my father compounded with my mother under the dragon's tail, and my nativity was under Urfa major; fo that it follows, I am rough and lecherous. I

fhould

should have been what I am, had the maidenlieft ftar in the firmament twinkled on my bastardizing.

To him, Enter Edgar.

Pat! he comes, like the catastrophe of the old comedy; my cue is villainous melancholy, with a figh like Tom o' Bedlam-O, thefe eclipfes portend these divifions! fa, fol, la, me

Edg. How now, brother Edmund, what ferious contemplation are you in?

Edm. I am thinking, brother, of a prediction I read this other day, what fhould follow thefe eclipfes. Edg. Do you bufy yourself with that?

Edm. I promise you, the effects, he writes of, fucceed unhappily. When faw you my father last ? Edg. The night gone by.

Edm. Spake you with him?

Edg. Ay, two hours together.

Edm. Parted you in good terms, found you no difpleasure in him, by word or countenance? Edg. None at all.

Edm. Bethink yourself, wherein you have offended him and, at my intreaty, forbear his prefence, until fome little time hath qualified the heat of his displeasure; which at this inftant fo rageth in him, that with the mischief of your perfon it would fcarcely allay.

Edg. Some villain hath done me wrong.

Edm. That's my fear; I pray you, have a continent forbearance 'till the speed of his rage goes flower: and, as I fay, retire with me to my lodging, from whence I will fitly bring you to hear my Lord fpeak: pray you, go, there's my key: if you do ftir abroad, go arin'd. Edg. Arm'd, brother!

Edm. Brother, I advise you to the beft: I am no honest man, if there be any good meaning toward you: I have told you what I have feen and heard, but faintly; nothing like the image and horror of it: pray you, away. Edg. Shall I hear from you anon? Edm. I do ferve you in this business: A credulous father, and a brother noble,

[Exit.

Whofe

Whose nature is fo far from doing harms,
That he fufpects none; on whofe foolish honefty
My practices ride eafy: I fee the business.
Let me, if not by birth, have lands by wit;
All with me's meet, that I can fashion fit.

[Exit.

SCENE, the Duke of Albany's Palace.

Gon.

·D'

Enter Gonerill and Steward.

Id my father ftrike my gentleman for chiding of his fool?

Stew. Ay, Madam.

Gon. By day and night, he wrongs me; every hour He flashes into one grofs crime or other,

That fets us all at odds; I'll not endure it:

His Knights grow riotous, and himself upbraids us
On ev'ry trifle. When he returns from hunting,
I will not speak with him; fay, I am fick.
If you come flack of former fervices,

You fhall do well; the fault of it I'll answer.
Stew. He's coming, Madam, I hear him.

Gon. Put on what weary negligence you please, You and your fellows: I'd have it come to question. If he diftafte it, let him to my fifter,

Whose mind and mine, I know, in that are one,
Not to be over-rul'd; Idle old man, (4)
That ftill would manage thofe authorities,
That he hath giv'n away!Now, by my life,
Old fools are babes again; and must be us'd
With checks, like flatt'rers when they're feen t'abufe us.
Remember, what I have faid.

Stew. Very well, Madam.

(4) Idle old Man,] The following Lines, as they are fine in themfelves, and very much in Character for Gonerill, I have restored from the old Quarto. The laft Verfe, which I have ventured to amend, is there printed thus:

With Checks, like Flatt'ries when they are seen abus’d.

Gen.

Gon. And let his Knights have colder looks among you: what grows of it, no matter; advise your fellows fo I'll write ftrait to my fifter to hold my courfe : prepare for dinner.

[Exeunt.

SCENE changes to an open Place before the Palace.

Kent.

I

Enter Kent difguis'd.

F but as well I other accents borrow,

And can my fpeech difufe, my good intent
May carry thro' itself to that full iffue,

For which I raz'd my likeness. Now, banish'd Kent,
If thou can'ft ferve where thou doft stand condemn'd,
So may it come, thy mafter, whom thou lov'ft,
Shall find thee full of labours.

Horns within. Enter Lear, Knights and Attendants.

Lear. Let me not ftay a jot for dinner, go, get it ready: How now, what art thou? [To Kent.

Kent. A man, Sir.

Lear. What doft thou profefs? what wouldst thou with us?

Kent. I do profefs to be no less than I feem; to ferve him truly, that will put me in truft; to love him that is honeft; to converse with him that is wife and fays little; to fear judgment; to fight when I cannot chufe, and to eat no fish.

Lear. What art thou?

Kent. A very honeft-hearted fellow, and as poor as the King.

Lear. If thou be'ft as poor for a subject, as he is for a King, thou art poor enough.

Kent. Service.

What wouldst thou?

Lear. What fervices canft thou do?

Kent. I can keep honeft counfels, ride, run, marr a curious tale in telling it, and deliver a plain meffage bluntly that which ordinary men are fit for, I am qualify'd in and the beft of me is diligence.

Lear. How old art thou?

Kent. Not fo young, Sir, to love a woman for finging; nor fo old, to doat on her for any thing. I have years on my back forty-eight.

Lear. Follow me, thou shalt serve me; if I like thee no worse after dinner, I will not part from thee yet. Dinner, ho, dinner-where's my knave? my fool? go you, and call my fool hither. You, you, firrah, where's my daughter?

Enter Steward.

Stew. So pleafe you

[Exit. Lear. What fays the fellow there? call the clotpole back where's my fool, ho? I think, the world's afleep how now? where's that mungrel ?

:

Knight. He fays, my Lord, your daughter is not well. Lear. Why came not the flave back to me when I call'd him!

Knight. Sir, he answer'd me in the roundest manner, he would not.

Lear. He would not ?

Knight. My Lord, know not what the matter is but, to my Judgment, your Highness is not entertain'd with that ceremonious affection as you were wont; there's a great abatement of kindness appears as well in the general dependants, as in the Duke himself also, and your daughter.

Lear. Ha! fay'st thou fo?

Knight. I beseech you, pardon me, my Lord, if I be mistaken; for my duty cannot be filent, when I think your Highness is wrong'd.

Lear.