University of Virginia Library

Actus Tertius.

Scena Prima.

Storme still. Enter Kent, and a Gentleman, seuerally.
Kent.
Who's there besides foule weather?

Gen.
One minded like the weather, most vnquietly.

Kent.
I know you: Where's the King?

Gent.
Contending with the fretfull Elements;
Bids the winde blow the Earth into the Sea,
Or swell the curled Waters 'boue the Maine,
That things might change, or cease.

Kent.
But who is with him?

Gent.
None but the Foole, who labours to out-iest
His heart-strooke iniuries.

Kent.
Sir, I do know you,
And dare vpon the warrant of my note
Commend a deere thing to you. There is diuision
(Although as yet the face of it is couer'd
With mutuall cunning) 'twixt Albany, and Cornwall:
Who haue, as who haue not, that their great Starres
Thron'd and set high; Seruants, who seeme no lesse,
Which are to France the Spies and Speculations
Intelligent of our State. What hath bin seene,
Either in snuffes, and packings of the Dukes,
Or the hard Reine which both of them hath borne
Against the old kinde King; or something deeper,
Whereof (perchance) these are but furnishings.

Gent.
I will talke further with you.

Kent.
No, do not:
For confirmation that I am much more
Then my out-wall; open this Purse, and take
What it containes. If you shall see Cordelia,
(As feare not but you shall) shew her this Ring,
And she will tell you who that Fellow is
That yet you do not know. Fye on this Storme,
I will go seeke the King.

Gent.
Giue me your hand,
Haue you no more to say?

Kent.
Few words, but to effect more then all yet;
That when we haue found the King, in which your pain
That way, Ile this: He that first lights on him,
Holla the other.

Exeunt.

Scena Secunda.

Storme still. Enter Lear, and Foole.
Lear.
Blow windes, & crack your cheeks; Rage, blow
You Cataracts, and Hyrricano's spout,
Till you haue drench'd our Steeples, drown the Cockes.
You Sulph'rous and Thought-executing Fires,
Vaunt-curriors of Oake-cleauing Thunder-bolts,
Sindge my white head. And thou all-shaking Thunder,
Strike flat the thicke Rotundity o'th'world,
Cracke Natures moulds, all germaines spill at once
That makes ingratefull Man.

Foole.

O Nunkle, Court holy-water in a dry house, is
better then this Rain-water out o'doore. Good Nunkle,
in, aske thy Daughters blessing, heere's a night pitties
neither Wisemen, nor Fooles.

Lear.
Rumble thy belly full: spit Fire, spowt Raine:
Nor Raine, Winde, Thunder, Fire are my Daughters;
I taxe not you, you Elements with vnkindnesse.
I neuer gaue you Kingdome, call'd you Children;
You owe me no subscription. Then let fall
Your horrible pleasure. Heere I stand your Slaue,
A poore, infirme, weake, and dispis'd old man:
But yet I call you Seruile Ministers,
That will with two pernicious Daughters ioyne
Your high-engender'd Battailes, 'gainst a head
So old, and white as this. O, ho! 'tis foule.

Foole.
He that has a house to put's head in, has a good
Head-peece:
The Codpiece that will house, before the head has any;
The Head, and he shall Lowse: so Beggers marry many.
The man yt makes his Toe, what he his Hart shold make,
Shall of a Corne cry woe, and turne his sleepe to wake.

For there was neuer yet faire woman, but shee made
mouthes in a glasse.

Enter Kent.
Lear.
No, I will be the patterne of all patience,
I will say nothing.

Kent.
Who's there?

Foole.
Marry here's Grace, and a Codpiece, that's a
Wiseman, and a Foole.

Kent.
Alas Sir are you here? Things that loue night,
Loue not such nights as these: The wrathfull Skies
Gallow the very wanderers of the darke
And make them keepe their Caues: Since I was man,
Such sheets of Fire, such bursts of horrid Thunder,
Such groanes of roaring Winde, and Raine, I neuer
Remember to haue heard. Mans Nature cannot carry
Th'affliction, nor the feare.

Lear.
Let the great Goddes
That keepe this dreadfull pudder o're our heads,
Finde out their enemies now. Tremble thou Wretch,
That hast within thee vndivulged Crimes
Vnwhipt of Iustice. Hide thee, thou Bloudy hand;
Thou Periur'd, and thou Simular of Vertue
That art Incestuous, Caytiffe, to peeces shake
That vnder couert, and conuenient seeming
Ha's practis'd on mans life. Close pent-vp guilts,
Riue your concealing Continents, and cry
These dreadfull Summoners grace. I am a man,
More sinn'd against, then sinning.

Kent.
Alacke, bare-headed?
Gracious my Lord, hard by heere is a Houell,
Some friendship will it lend you 'gainst the Tempest:
Repose you there, while I to this hard house,
(More harder then the stones whereof 'tis rais'd,
Which euen but now, demanding after you,
Deny'd me to come in) returne, and force
Their scanted curtesie.

Lear.
My wits begin to turne.
Come on my boy. How dost my boy? Art cold?
I am cold my selfe. Where is this straw, my Fellow?
The Art of our Necessities is strange,
And can make vilde things precious. Come, your Houel;
Poore Foole, and Knaue, I haue one part in my heart
That's sorry yet for thee.

Foole.
He that has and a little-tyne wit,
With heigh-ho, the Winde and the Raine,
Must make content with his Fortunes fit,
Though the Raine it raineth euery day.

Le.
True Boy: Come bring vs to this Houell.

Exit
Foole.
This is a braue night to coole a Curtizan:
Ile speake a Prophesie ere I go:
When Priests are more in word, then matter;
When Brewers marre their Malt with water;
When Nobles are their Taylors Tutors,
No Heretiques burn'd, but wenches Sutors;
When euery Case in Law, is right;
No Squire in debt, nor no poore Knight;
When Slanders do not liue in Tongues;
Nor Cut-purses come not to throngs;
When Vsurers tell their Gold i'th'Field,
And Baudes, and whores, do Churches build,
Then shal the Realme of Albion, come to great confusion:
Then comes the time, who liues to see't,
That going shalbe vs'd with feet.
This prophecie Merlin shall make, for I liue before his time.

Exit.

Scæna Tertia.

Enter Gloster, and Edmund.
Glo.

Alacke, alacke Edmund, I like not this vnnaturall
dealing; when I desired their leaue that I might pity him,
they tooke from me the vse of mine owne house, charg'd
me on paine of perpetuall displeasure, neither to speake
of him entreat for him, or any way sustaine him.

Bast.

Most sauage and vnnaturall.

Glo.

Go too; say you nothing. There is diuision betweene
the Dukes, and a worsse matter then that: I haue
receiued a Letter this night, 'tis dangerous to be spoken,
I haue lock'd the Letter in my Closset, these iniuries the
King now beares, will be reuenged home; ther is part of
a Power already footed, we must incline to the King, I
will looke him, and priuily relieue him; goe you and
maintaine talke with the Duke, that my charity be not of
him perceiued; If he aske for me, I am ill, and gone to
bed, if I die for it, (as no lesse is threatned me) the King
my old Master must be relieued. There is strange things
toward Edmund, pray you be carefull.

Exit.
Bast.
This Curtesie forbid thee, shall the Duke
Instantly know, and of that Letter too;
This seemes a faire deseruing, and must draw me
That which my Father looses: no lesse then all,
The yonger rises, when the old doth fall.

Exit.

Scena Quarta.

Enter Lear, Kent, and Foole.
Kent.
Here is the place my Lord, good my Lord enter,
The tirrany of the open night's too rough
For Nature to endure.

Storme still
Lear.
Let me alone.

Kent.
Good my Lord enter heere.

Lear.
Wilt breake my heart?

Kent.
I had rather breake mine owne,
Good my Lord enter.

Lear.
Thou think'st 'tis much that this contentious storme
Inuades vs to the skinso: 'tis to thee,
But where the greater malady is fixt,
The lesser is scarce felt. Thou'dst shun a Beare,
But if they flight lay toward the roaring Sea,
Thou'dst meete the Beare i'th' mouth, when the mind's free,
The bodies delicate: the tempest in my mind,
Doth from my sences take all feeling else,
Saue what beates there, Filliall ingratitude,
Is it not as this mouth should teare this hand
For lifting food too't? But I will punish home;
No, I will weepe no more; in such a night,
To shut me out? Poure on, I will endure:
In such a night as this? O Regan, Gonerill,
Your old kind Father, whose franke heart gaue all,
O that way madnesse lies, let me shun that:
No more of that.

Kent.
Good my Lord enter here.

Lear.
Prythee go in thy selfe, seeke thine owne ease,
This tempest will not giue me leaue to ponder
On things would hurt me more, but Ile goe in,
In Boy, go first. You houselesse pouertie,
Exit.
Nay get thee in; Ile pray, and then Ile sleepe.
Poore naked wretches, where so ere you are
That bide the pelting of this pittilesse storme,
How shall your House-lesse heads, and vnfed sides,
Your lop'd, and window'd raggednesse defend you
From seasons such as these? O I haue tane
Too little care of this: Take Physicke, Pompe,
Expose thy selfe to feele what wretches feele,
That thou maist shake the superflux to them,
And shew the Heauens more iust.

Enter Edgar, and Foole.
Edg.

Fathom, and halfe, Fathom and halfe; poore Tom.

Foole.

Come not in heere Nuncle, here's a spirit, helpe
me, helpe me.

Kent.

Giue me thy hand, who's there?

Foole.

A spirite, a spirite, he sayes his name's poore
Tom.

Kent.

What art thou that dost grumble there i'th'
straw? Come forth.

Edg.

Away, the foule Fiend followes me, through the
sharpe Hauthorne blow the windes. Humh, goe to thy
bed and warme ther.

Lear.

Did'st thou giue all to thy Daughters? And art
thou come to this?

Edgar.

Who giues any thing to poore Tom? Whom
the foule fiend hath led though Fire, and through Flame,
through Sword, and Whirle-Poole, o're Bog, and Quagmire,
that hath laid Kniues vnder his Pillow, and Halters
in his Pue, set Rats-bane by his Porredge, made him
Proud of heart, to ride on a Bay trotting Horse, ouer foure
incht Bridges, to course his owne shadow for a Traitor.
Blisse thy fiue Wits, Toms a cold. O do, de, do, de, do de,
blisse thee from Whirle-Windes, Starre-blasting, and taking,
do poore Tom some charitie, whom the foule Fiend
vexes. There could I haue him now, and there, and there
againe, and there.

Storme still.
Lear.

Ha's his Daughters brought him to this passe?
Could'st thou saue nothing? Would'st thou giue 'em all?

Foole.

Nay, he reseru'd a Blanket, else we had bin all
sham'd.

Lea.
Now all the plagues that in the pendulous ayre
Hang fated o're mens faults, light on thy Daughters.

Kent.
He hath no Daughters Sir.

Lear.
Death Traitor, nothing could haue subdu'd Nature
To such a lownesse, but his vnkind Daughters.
Is it the fashion, that discarded Fathers,
Should haue thus little mercy on their flesh:
Iudicious punishment, 'twas this flesh begot
Those Pelicane Daughters.

Edg.
Pillicock sat on Pillicock hill, alow: alow, loo, loo.

Foole.

This cold night will turne vs all to Fooles, and
Madmen.

Edgar.

Take heed o'th'foule Fiend, obey thy Parents,
keepe thy words Iustice, sweare not, commit not,

with mans sworne Spouse: set not thy Sweet-heart on
proud array. Tom's a cold.

Lear.

What hast thou bin?

Edg.

A Seruingman? Proud in heart, and minde; that
curl'd my haire, wore Gloues in my cap; seru'd the Lust
of my Mistris heart, and did the acte of darkenesse with
her. Swore as many Oathes, as I spake words, & broke
them in the sweet face of Heauen. One, that slept in the
contriuing of Lust, and wak'd to doe it. Wine lou'd I
deerely, Dice deerely; and in Woman, out-Paramour'd
the Turke. False of heart, light of eare, bloody of hand;
Hog in sloth, Foxe in stealth, Wolfe in greedinesse, Dog
in madnes, Lyon in prey. Let not the creaking of shooes,
Nor the rustling of Silkes, betray thy poore heart to woman.
Keepe thy foote out of Brothels, thy hand out of
Plackets, thy pen from Lenders Bookes, and defye the
foule Fiend. Still through the Hauthorne blowes the
cold winde: Sayes suum, mun, nonny, Dolphin my Boy,
Boy Sesey: let him trot by.

Storme still.
Lear.

Thou wert better in a Graue, then to answere
with thy vncouer'd body, this extremitie of the Skies. Is
man no more then this? Consider him well. Thou ow'st
the Worme no Silke; the Beast, no Hide; the Sheepe, no
Wooll; the Cat, no perfume. Ha? Here's three on's are
sophisticated. Thou art the thing it selfe; vnaccommodated
man, is no more but such a poore, bare, forked Animall
as thou art. Off, off you Lendings: Come, vnbutton
heere.

Enter Gloucester, with a Torch.
Foole.

Prythee Nunckle be contented, 'tis a naughtie
night to swimme in. Now a little fire in a wilde Field,
were like an old Letchers heart, a small spark, all the rest
on's body, cold: Looke, heere comes a walking fire.

Edg.

This is the foule Flibbertigibbet; hee begins at
Curfew, and walkes at first Cocke: Hee giues the Web
and the Pin, squints the eye, and makes the Hare-lippe;
Mildewes the white Wheate, and hurts the poore Creature
of earth.

Kent.

How fares your Grace?

Lear.

What's he?

Kent.

Who's there? What is't you seeke?

Glou.

What are you there? Your Names?

Edg.

Poore Tom, that eates the swimming Frog, the
Toad, the Tod-pole, the wall-Neut, and the water: that
in the furie of his heart, when the foule Fiend rages, eats
Cow-dung for Sallets; swallowes the old Rat, and the
ditch-Dogge; drinkes the green Mantle of the standing
Poole: who is whipt from Tything to Tything, and
stockt, punish'd, and imprison'd: who hath three Suites
to his backe, sixe shirts to his body:

Beware my Follower. Peace Smulkin, peace thou Fiend.

Glou.

What, hath your Grace no better company?

Edg.

The Prince of Darkenesse is a Gentleman. Modo
he's call'd, and Mahu.

Glou.

Our flesh and blood, my Lord, is growne so
vilde, that it doth hate what gets it.

Edg.

Poore Tom's a cold.

Glou.
Go in with me; my duty cannot suffer
T'obey in all your daughters hard commands:
Though their Iniunction be to barre my doores,
And let this Tyrannous night take hold vpon you,
Yet haue I ventured to come seeke you out,
And bring you where both fire, and food is ready.

Lear.
First let me talke with this Philosopher,
What is the cause of Thunder?

Kent.
Good my Lord take his offer,
Go into th'house.

Lear.
Ile talke a word with this same lerned Theban:
What is your study?

Edg.
How to preuent the Fiend, and to kill Vermine.

Lear.
Let me aske you one word in priuate.

Kent.
Importune him once more to go my Lord,
His wits begin t'vnsettle.

Glou.
Canst thou blame him?
Storm still
His Daughters seeke his death: Ah, that good Kent,
He said it would be thus: poore banish'd man:
Thou sayest the King growes mad, Ile tell thee Friend
I am almost mad my selfe. I had a Sonne,
Now out-law'd from my blood: he fought my life
But lately: very late: I lou'd him (Friend)
No Father his Sonne deerer: true to tell thee,
The greefe hath craz'd my wits. What a night's this?
I do beseech your grace.

Lear.
O cry you mercy, Sir:
Noble Philosopher, your company.

Edg.
Tom's a cold.

Glou.
In fellow there, into th'Houel; keep thee warm.

Lear.
Come, let's in all.

Kent.
This way, my Lord.

Lear.
With him;
I will keepe still with my Philosopher.

Kent.
Good my Lord, sooth him:
Let him take the Fellow.

Glou.
Take him you on.

Kent.
Sirra, come on: go along with vs.

Lear.
Come, good Athenian.

Glou.
No words, no words, hush.

Edg.
Childe Rowland to the darke Tower came,
His word was still, fie, foh, and fumme,
I smell the blood of a Brittish man.

Exeunt

Scena Quinta.

Enter Cornwall, and Edmund.
Corn.

I will haue my reuenge, ere I depart his house.

Bast.

How my Lord, I may be censured, that Nature
thus giues way to Loyaltie, something feares mee to
thinke of.

Cornw.

I now perceiue, it was not altogether your
Brothers euill disposition made him seeke his death: but
a prouoking merit set a-worke by a reprouable badnesse
in himselfe.

Bast.

How malicious is my fortune, that I must repent
to be iust? This is the Letter which hee spoake of;
which approues him an intelligent partie to the aduantages
of France. O Heauens! that this Treason were not;
or not I the detector.

Corn.

Go with me to the Dutchesse.

Bast.

If the matter of this Paper be certain, you haue
mighty businesse in hand.

Corn.

True or false, it hath made thee Earle of Gloucester:
seeke out where thy Father is, that hee may bee
ready for our apprehension.

Bast.

If I finde him comforting the King, it will stuffe
his suspition more fully. I will perseuer in my course of
Loyalty, though the conflict be sore betweene that, and
my blood.

Corn.

I will lay trust vpon thee: and thou shalt finde
a deere Father in my loue.

Exeunt.

Scena Sexta.

Enter Kent, and Gloucester.
Glou.

Heere is better then the open ayre, take it thankfully:
I will peece out the comfort with what addition I
can: I will not be long from you.

Exit
Kent.

All the powre of his wits, haue giuen way to his
impatience: the Gods reward your kindnesse.

Enter Lear, Edgar, and Foole.
Edg.

Fraterretto cals me, and tells me Nero is an Angler
in the Lake of Darknesse: pray Innocent, and beware
the foule Fiend.

Foole.

Prythee Nunkle tell me, whether a madman be
a Gentleman, or a Yeoman.

Lear.

A King, a King.

Foole.

No, he's a Yeoman, that ha's a Gentleman to
his Sonne: for hee's a mad Yeoman that sees his Sonne a
Gentleman before him.

Lear.
To haue a thousand with red burning spits
Come hizzing in vpon 'em.

Edg.
Blesse thy fiue wits.

Kent.
O pitty: Sir, where is the patience now
That you so oft haue boasted to retaine?

Edg.
My teares begin to take his part so much,
They marre my counterfetting.

Lear.
The little dogges, and all;
Trey, Blanch, and Sweet-heart: see, they barke at me.

Edg.
Tom, will throw his head at them: Auaunt you
Curres, be thy mouth or blacke or white:
Tooth that poysons if it bite:
Mastiffe, Grey-hound, Mongrill, Grim,
Hound or Spaniell, Brache, or Hym:
Or Bobtaile tight, or Troudle taile.
Tom will make him weepe and waile,
For with throwing thus my head;
Dogs leapt the hatch, and all are fled.
Do, de, de, de: sese: Come, march to Wakes and Fayres,
And Market Townes: poore Tom thy horne is dry,

Lear.

Then let them Anatomize Regan: See what
breeds about her heart. Is there any cause in Nature that
make these hard-hearts. You sir, I entertaine for one of
my hundred; only, I do not like the fashion of your garments.
You will say they are Persian; but let them bee
chang'd.

Enter Gloster.
Kent.

Now good my Lord, lye heere, and rest awhile.

Lear.

Make no noise, make no noise, draw the Curtaines:
so, so, wee'l go to Supper i'th'morning.

Foole.

And Ile go to bed at noone.

Glou.
Come hither Friend:
Where is the King my Master?

Kent.
Here Sir, but trouble him not, his wits are gon.

Glou.
Good friend, I prythee take him in thy armes;
I haue ore-heard a plot of death vpon him:
There is a Litter ready, lay him in't,
And driue toward Douer friend, where thou shalt meete
Both welcome, and protection. Take vp thy Master,
If thou should'st dally halfe an houre, his life
With thine, and all that offer to defend him,
Stand in assured losse. Take vp, take vp,
And follow me, that will to some prouision
Giue thee quicke conduct. Come, come, away.

Exeunt

Scena Septima.

Enter Cornwall, Regan, Gonerill, Bastard, and Seruants.
Corn.

Poste speedily to my Lord your husband, shew
hin this Letter, the Army of France is landed: seeke out
the Traitor Glouster.

Reg.

Hang him instantly.

Gon.

Plucke out his eyes.

Corn.

Leaue him to my displeasure. Edmond, keepe
you our Sister company: the reuenges wee are bound to
take vppon your Traitorous Father, are not fit for your
beholding. Aduice the Duke where you are going, to a
most festiuate preparation: we are bound to the like. Our
Postes shall be swift, and intelligent betwixt vs. Farewell
deere Sister, farewell my Lord of Glouster.

Enter Steward.
How now? Where's the King?

Stew.
My Lord of Glouster hath conuey'd him hence
Some fiue or six and thirty of his Knights
Hot Questrists after him, met him at gate,
Who, with some other of the Lords, dependants,
Are gone with him toward Douer; where they boast
To haue well armed Friends.

Corn.
Get horses for your Mistris.

Gon.
Farewell sweet Lord, and Sister.

Exit
Corn.
Edmund farewell: go seek the Traitor Gloster,
Pinnion him like a Theefe, bring him before vs:
Though well we may not passe vpon his life
Without the forme of Iustice: yet our power
Shall do a curt'sie to our wrath, which men
May blame, but not comptroll.
Enter Gloucester, and Seruants.
Who's there? the Traitor?

Reg.
Ingratefull Fox, 'tis he.

Corn.
Binde fast his corky armes.

Glou.
What meanes your Graces?
Good my Friends consider you are my Ghests:
Do me no foule play, Friends.

Corn.
Binde him I say.

Reg.
Hard, hard: O filthy Traitor.

Glou.
Vnmercifull Lady, as you are, I'me none.

Corn.
To this Chaire binde him,
Villaine, thou shalt finde.

Glou.
By the kinde Gods, 'tis most ignobly done
To plucke me by the Beard.

Reg.
So white, and such a Traitor?

Glou.
Naughty Ladie,
These haires which thou dost rauish from my chin
Will quicken and accuse thee. I am your Host,
With Robbers hands, my hospitable fauours
You should not ruffle thus. What will you do?

Corn.
Come Sir.
What Letters had you late from France?

Reg.
Be simple answer'd, for we know the truth.

Corn.

And what confederacie haue you with the Traitors,
late footed in the Kingdome?

Reg.
To whose hands
You haue sent the Lunaticke King: Speake.

Glou.
I haue a Letter guessingly set downe
Which came from one that's of a newtrall heart,
And not from one oppos'd.

Corn.
Cunning.

Reg.
And false.

Corn.
Where hast thou sent the King?

Glou.
To Douer.

Reg.
Wherefore to Douer?
Was't thou not charg'd at perill.

Corn.
Wherefore to Douer? Let him answer that.

Glou.
I am tyed to th'Stake,
And I must stand the Course.

Reg.
Wherefore to Douer?

Glou.
Because I would not see thy cruell Nailes
Plucke out his poore old eyes: nor thy fierce Sister,
In his Annointed flesh, sticke boarish phangs.
The Sea, with such a storme as his bare head,
In Hell-blacke-night indur'd, would haue buoy'd vp
And quench'd the Stelled fires:
Yet poore old heart, he holpe the Heauens to raine.
If Wolues had at thy Gate howl'd that sterne time,
Thou should'st haue said, good Porter turne the Key:
All Cruels else subscribe: but I shall see
The winged Vengeance ouertake such Children.

Corn.
See't shalt thou neuer. Fellowes hold ye Chaire,
Vpon these eyes of thine, Ile set my foote.

Glou.
He that will thinke to liue, till he be old,
Giue me some helpe.—O cruell! O you Gods.

Reg.
One side will mocke another: Th'other too.

Corn.
If you see vengeance.

Seru.
Hold your hand, my Lord:
I haue seru'd you euer since I was a Childe:
But better seruice haue I neuer done you,
Then now to bid you hold.

Reg.
How now, you dogge?

Ser.
If you did weare a beard vpon your chin,
I'ld shake it on this quarrell. What do you meane?

Corn.
My Villaine?

Seru.
Nay then come on, and take the chance of anger.

Reg.
Giue me thy Sword. A pezant stand vp thus?

Killes him.
Ser.
Oh I am slaine: my Lord, you haue one eye left
To see some mischefe on him. Oh.

Corn.
Lest it see more, preuent it; Out vilde gelly:
Where is thy luster now?

Glou.
All darke and comfortlesse?
Where's my Sonne Edmund?
Edmund, enkindle all the sparkes of Nature
To quit this horrid acte.

Reg.
Out treacherous Villaine,
Thou call'st on him, that hates thee. It was he
That made the ouerture of thy Treasons to vs:
Who is too good to pitty thee.

Glou.
O my Follies! then Edgar was abus'd,
Kinde Gods, forgiue me that, and prosper him.

Reg.
Go thrust him out at gates, and let him smell
His way to Douer.
Exit with Glouster.
How is't my Lord? How looke you?

Corn.
I haue receiu'd a hurt: Follow me Lady;
Turne out that eyelesse Villaine: throw this Slaue
Vpon the Dunghill: Regan, I bleed apace,
Vntimely comes this hurt. Giue me your arme.

Exeunt.