Page 1850 - Shakespeare - Vol. 3

FOOL

Marry, here’s grace and a cod-piece, that’s a wise [40] man and a Fool.

KENT
Alas! Sir, are you here? things that love night
Love not such nights as these; the wrathful skies
Gallow the very wanderers of the dark,

And make them keep their caves. Since I was man [45]
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

Th’affliction nor the fear.

LEAR

Let the great Gods,
That keep this dreadful pudder o’er our heads, [50]
Find out their enemies now. Tremble, thou wretch,

That hast within thee undivulged crimes,
Unwhipp’d of Justice; hide thee, thou bloody hand,
Thou perjur’d, and thou simular of virtue
That art incestuous; caitiff, to pieces shake, [55]
That under covert and convenient seeming

Has practis’d on man’s life; close pent-up guilts
Rive your concealing continents, and cry
These dreadful summoners grace. I am a man

More sinn’d against than sinning.

KENT

Alack! bare-headed! [60]
Gracious my Lord, hard by here is a hovel;
Some friendship will it lend you ’gainst the tempest;
Repose you there while I to this hard house, −

More harder than the stones whereof ’tis rais’d,
Which even but now, demanding after you, [65]
Denied me to come in,-return and force
Their scanted courtesy.

LEAR