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  • William Shakespeare: King Lear, Act III, Scene IV

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Scene IVThe heath. Before a hovelEnter King Lear, Kent, and FoolKentHere is the place, my lord; good my lord, enter: The tyranny of the open night’s too rough For nature to endure.Storm stillKing LearLet me alone.KentGood my lord, enter here.King LearWilt break my heart?KentI had rather break mine own. Good my lord, enter.King LearThou think’st ’tis much that this contentious storm Invades us to the skin: so ’tis to thee; But where the greater malady is fix’d, The lesser is scarce felt. Thou’ldst shun a bear; But if thy flight lay toward the raging sea, Thou’ldst meet the bear i’ the mouth. When the mind’s free, The body’s delicate: the tempest in my mind Doth from my senses take all feeling else Save what beats there. Filial ingratitude! Is it not as this mouth should tear this hand For lifting food to’t? But I will punish home: No, I will weep no more. In such a night To shut me out! Pour on; I will endure. In such a night as this! O Regan, Goneril! Your old kind father, whose frank heart gave all,— O, that way madness lies; let me shun that; No more of that.KentGood my lord, enter here.King LearPrithee, go in thyself: seek thine own ease: This tempest will not give me leave to ponder On things would hurt me more. But I’ll go in.To the FoolIn, boy; go first. You houseless poverty,— Nay, get thee in. I’ll pray, and then I’ll sleep.Fool goes inPoor naked wretches, whereso’er you are, That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm, How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides, Your loop’d and window’d raggedness, defend you From seasons such as these? O, I have ta’en Too little care of this! Take physic, pomp; Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel, That thou mayst shake the superflux to them, And show the heavens more just.EdgarWithinFathom and half, fathom and half! Poor Tom!The Fool runs out from the hovelFoolCome not in here, nuncle, here’s a spirit Help me, help me!KentGive me thy hand. Who’s there?FoolA spirit, a spirit: he says his name’s poor Tom.KentWhat art thou that dost grumble there i’ the straw? Come forth.Enter Edgar disguised as a mad manEdgarAway! the foul fiend follows me! Through the sharp hawthorn blows the cold wind. Hum! go to thy cold bed, and warm thee.King LearHast thou given all to thy two daughters? And art thou come to this?EdgarWho gives any thing to poor Tom? whom the foul fiend hath led through fire and through flame, and through ford and whirlipool e’er bog and quagmire; that hath laid knives under his pillow, and halters in his pew; set ratsbane by his porridge; made film proud of heart, to ride on a bay trotting-horse over four-inched bridges, to course his own shadow for a traitor. Bless thy five wits! Tom’s a-cold,—O, do de, do de, do de. Bless thee from whirlwinds, star-blasting, and taking! Do poor Tom some charity, whom the foul fiend vexes: there could I have him now,—and there,—and there again, and there.Storm stillKing LearWhat, have his daughters brought him to this pass? Couldst thou save nothing? Didst thou give them all?FoolNay, he reserved a blanket, else we had been all shamed.King LearNow, all the plagues that in the pendulous air Hang fated o’er men’s faults light on thy daughters!KentHe hath no daughters, sir.King LearDeath, traitor! nothing could have subdued nature To such a lowness but his unkind daughters. Is it the fashion, that discarded fathers Should have thus little mercy on their flesh? Judicious punishment! ’twas this flesh begot Those pelican daughters.EdgarPillicock sat on Pillicock-hill: Halloo, halloo, loo, loo!FoolThis cold night will turn us all to fools and madmen.EdgarTake heed o’ the foul fiend: obey thy parents; keep thy word justly; swear not; commit not with man’s sworn spouse; set not thy sweet heart on proud array. Tom’s a-cold.King LearWhat hast thou been?EdgarA serving-man, proud in heart and mind; that curled my hair; wore gloves in my cap; served the lust of my mistress’ heart, and did the act of darkness with her; swore as many oaths as I spake words, and broke them in the sweet face of heaven: one that slept in the contriving of lust, and waked to do it: wine loved I deeply, dice dearly: and in woman out-paramoured the Turk: false of heart, light of ear, bloody of hand; hog in sloth, fox in stealth, wolf in greediness, dog in madness, lion in prey. Let not the creaking of shoes nor the rustling of silks betray thy poor heart to woman: keep thy foot out of brothels, thy hand out of plackets, thy pen from lenders’ books, and defy the foul fiend. Still through the hawthorn blows the cold wind: Says suum, mun, ha, no, nonny. Dolphin my boy, my boy, sessa! let him trot by.Storm stillKing LearWhy, thou wert better in thy grave than to answer with thy uncovered body this extremity of the skies. Is man no more than this? Consider him well. Thou owest the worm no silk, the beast no hide, the sheep no wool, the cat no perfume. Ha! here’s three on ’s are sophisticated! Thou art the thing itself: unaccommodated man is no more but such a poor bare, forked animal as thou art. Off, off, you lendings! come unbutton here.Tearing off his clothesFoolPrithee, nuncle, be contented; ’tis a naughty night to swim in. Now a little fire in a wild field were like an old lecher’s heart; a small spark, all the rest on’s body cold. Look, here comes a walking fire.Enter Gloucester, with a torchEdgarThis is the foul fiend Flibbertigibbet: he begins at curfew, and walks till the first cock; he gives the web and the pin, squints the eye, and makes the hare-lip; mildews the white wheat, and hurts the poor creature of earth. S. Withold footed thrice the old; He met the night-mare, and her nine-fold; Bid her alight, And her troth plight, And, aroint thee, witch, aroint thee!KentHow fares your grace?King LearWhat’s he?KentWho’s there? What is’t you seek?GloucesterWhat are you there? Your names?EdgarPoor Tom; that eats the swimming frog, the toad, the tadpole, the wall-newt and the water; that in the fury of his heart, when the foul fiend rages, eats cow-dung for sallets; swallows the old rat and the ditch-dog; drinks the green mantle of the standing pool; who is whipped from tithing to tithing, and stock-punished, and imprisoned; who hath had three suits to his back, six shirts to his body, horse to ride, and weapon to wear; But mice and rats, and such small deer, Have been Tom’s food for seven long year. Beware my follower. Peace, Smulkin; peace, thou fiend!GloucesterWhat, hath your grace no better company?EdgarThe prince of darkness is a gentleman: Modo he’s call’d, and Mahu.GloucesterOur flesh and blood is grown so vile, my lord, That it doth hate what gets it.EdgarPoor Tom’s a-cold.GloucesterGo in with me: my duty cannot suffer To obey in all your daughters’ hard commands: Though their injunction be to bar my doors, And let this tyrannous night take hold upon you, Yet have I ventured to come seek you out, And bring you where both fire and food is ready.King LearFirst let me talk with this philosopher. What is the cause of thunder?KentGood my lord, take his offer; go into the house.King LearI’ll talk a word with this same learned Theban. What is your study?EdgarHow to prevent the fiend, and to kill vermin.King LearLet me ask you one word in private.KentImportune him once more to go, my lord; His wits begin to unsettle.GloucesterCanst thou blame him?Storm stillHis daughters seek his death: ah, that good Kent! He said it would be thus, poor banish’d man! Thou say’st the king grows mad; I’ll tell thee, friend, I am almost mad myself: I had a son, Now outlaw’d from my blood; he sought my life, But lately, very late: I loved him, friend; No father his son dearer: truth to tell thee, The grief hath crazed my wits. What a night’s this! I do beseech your grace,—King LearO, cry your mercy, sir. Noble philosopher, your company.EdgarTom’s a-cold.GloucesterIn, fellow, there, into the hovel: keep thee warm.King LearCome let’s in all.KentThis way, my lord.King LearWith him; I will keep still with my philosopher.KentGood my lord, soothe him; let him take the fellow.GloucesterTake him you on.KentSirrah, come on; go along with us.King LearCome, good Athenian.GloucesterNo words, no words: hush.EdgarChild Rowland to the dark tower came, His word was still,—Fie, foh, and fum, I smell the blood of a British man.Exeunt

William Shakespeare: King Lear, Act III

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William Shakespeare: King Lear, Act II, Scene IV

  • William Shakespeare: King Lear, Act II, Scene IV

TrendingHere are the facts and trivia that people are buzzing about.

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Andersen’s Fairy Tales: Contents

The Celtic Twilight: A Teller of Tales

TrendingHere are the facts and trivia that people are buzzing about.

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The Twelve Dancing Princesses

Current Events This Week: January 2023

African Americans by the Numbers

Andersen’s Fairy Tales: Contents

The Celtic Twilight: A Teller of Tales

  • Did Birds Evolve from Dinosaurs?
  • The Twelve Dancing Princesses
  • Current Events This Week: January 2023
  • African Americans by the Numbers
  • Andersen’s Fairy Tales: Contents
  • The Celtic Twilight: A Teller of Tales