17861566Lear. Thou thinkst tis much, that this crulentious storme

17871567Inuades vs to the skin, so tis to thee,

17881568But where the greater malady is fixt,

17891569The lesser is scarse felt, thou wouldst shun a Beare,

17901570But if thy flight lay toward the raging sea,

17911571Thoud'st meete the beare it'h mouth, when the mind's free,

17921572The bodies delicate, the tempest in my minde;

17931573Doth from my sences take all feeling else,

17941574Saue what beares their filiall ingratitude,

17951575Is it not as this mouth should teare this hand

17961576For lifting food to it? but I will punish sure;

17971577No I will weepe no more; in such a night as this!

17991578O Regan, Gonorill, your old kinde father

18001579Whose franke heart gaue you all, O that way madnesse lies,

18011580Let me shunne that, no more of that.

18031581Kent. Good my lord enter.

18041582Lear. Prethee go in thy selfe, seeke thy owne ease,

18051583This tempest will not giue me leaue to ponder

18061584On things would hurt me more, but Ile go in,

18091585Poore naked wretches, where so ere you are

18101586That bide the pelting of this pittilesse night,

18111587How shall your house-lesse heads, and vnfed sides,

18121588Your loopt and windowed raggednesse defend you

18131589From seasons such as these, O I haue tane

18141590Too little care of this, take physicke pompe,

18151591Expose thy selfe to feele what wretches feele,

18161592That thou maist shake the superflux to them,

18171593And shew the heauens more iust.

18201594Foole. Come not in here Nunckle, here's a spirit, helpe me, help

18211595me.

18221596Kent. Giue me thy hand, who's there?

18231597Foole. A spirit, he sayes his name is poore Tom.

18251598Kent. What art thou that dost grumble there in the straw?

18261599come foorth.

18271600Edg. Away, the foule fiend followes me, through the sharpe

18281601hathorne blowes the cold winde, goe to thy cold bed & warme

18291602thee.