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Whereof (perchance) these are but furnishings
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Gent. I will talke further with you
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Kent. No, do not:
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For confirmation that I am much more
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Then my out-wall; open this Purse, and take
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What it containes. If you shall see Cordelia,
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(As feare not but you shall) shew her this Ring,
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And she will tell you who that Fellow is
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That yet you do not know. Fye on this Storme,
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I will go seeke the King
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Gent. Giue me your hand,
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Haue you no more to say?
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Kent. Few words, but to effect more then all yet;
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That when we haue found the King, in which your pain
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That way, Ile this: He that first lights on him,
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Holla the other.
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Exeunt.
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Scena Secunda.
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Storme still. Enter Lear, and Foole.
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Lear. Blow windes, & crack your cheeks; Rage, blow
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You Cataracts, and Hyrricano's spout,
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Till you haue drench'd our Steeples, drown the Cockes.
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You Sulph'rous and Thought-executing Fires,
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Vaunt-curriors of Oake-cleauing Thunder-bolts,
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Sindge my white head. And thou all-shaking Thunder,
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Strike flat the thicke Rotundity o'th' world,
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Cracke Natures moulds, all germaines spill at once
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That makes ingratefull Man
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Foole. O Nunkle, Court holy-water in a dry house, is
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better then this Rain-water out o' doore. Good Nunkle,
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in, aske thy Daughters blessing, heere's a night pitties
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neither Wisemen, nor Fooles
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Lear. Rumble thy belly full: spit Fire, spowt Raine:
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Nor Raine, Winde, Thunder, Fire are my Daughters;
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I taxe not you, you Elements with vnkindnesse.
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I neuer gaue you Kingdome, call'd you Children;
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You owe me no subscription. Then let fall
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Your horrible pleasure. Heere I stand your Slaue,
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A poore, infirme, weake, and dispis'd old man:
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But yet I call you Seruile Ministers,
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That will with two pernicious Daughters ioyne
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Your high-engender'd Battailes, 'gainst a head
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So old, and white as this. O, ho! 'tis foule
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Foole. He that has a house to put's head in, has a good
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Head-peece:
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The Codpiece that will house, before the head has any;
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The Head, and he shall Lowse: so Beggers marry many.
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The man y makes his Toe, what he his Hart shold make,
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Shall of a Corne cry woe, and turne his sleepe to wake.
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For there was neuer yet faire woman, but shee made
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mouthes in a glasse.
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Enter Kent
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Lear. No, I will be the patterne of all patience,
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I will say nothing
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Kent. Who's there?
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Foole. Marry here's Grace, and a Codpiece, that's a
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Wiseman, and a Foole
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Kent. Alas Sir are you here? Things that loue night,
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Loue not such nights as these: The wrathfull Skies
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Gallow the very wanderers of the darke
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And make them keepe their Caues: Since I was man,
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Such sheets of Fire, such bursts of horrid Thunder,
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Such groanes of roaring Winde, and Raine, I neuer
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Remember to haue heard. Mans Nature cannot carry
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Th' affliction, nor the feare
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Lear. Let the great Goddes
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That keepe this dreadfull pudder o're our heads,
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Finde out their enemies now. Tremble thou Wretch,
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That hast within thee vndivulged Crimes
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Vnwhipt of Iustice. Hide thee, thou Bloudy hand;
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Thou Periur'd, and thou Simular of Vertue
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That art Incestuous. Caytiffe, to peeces shake
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That vnder couert, and conuenient seeming
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Ha's practis'd on mans life. Close pent-vp guilts,
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Riue your concealing Continents, and cry
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These dreadfull Summoners grace. I am a man,
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More sinn'd against, then sinning
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Kent. Alacke, bare-headed?
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Gracious my Lord, hard by heere is a Houell,
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Some friendship will it lend you 'gainst the Tempest:
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