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Foole. Prythee Nunkle tell me, whether a madman be
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a Gentleman, or a Yeoman
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Lear. A King, a King
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Foole. No, he's a Yeoman, that ha's a Gentleman to
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his Sonne: for hee's a mad Yeoman that sees his Sonne a
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Gentleman before him
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Lear. To haue a thousand with red burning spits
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Come hizzing in vpon 'em
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Edg. Blesse thy fiue wits
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Kent. O pitty: Sir, where is the patience now
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That you so oft haue boasted to retaine?
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Edg. My teares begin to take his part so much,
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They marre my counterfetting
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Lear. The little dogges, and all;
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Trey, Blanch, and Sweet-heart: see, they barke at me
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Edg. Tom, will throw his head at them: Auaunt you
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Curres, be thy mouth or blacke or white:
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Tooth that poysons if it bite:
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Mastiffe, Grey-hound, Mongrill, Grim,
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Hound or Spaniell, Brache, or Hym:
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Or Bobtaile tight, or Troudle taile,
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Tom will make him weepe and waile,
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For with throwing thus my head;
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Dogs leapt the hatch, and all are fled.
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Do, de, de, de: sese: Come, march to Wakes and Fayres,
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And Market Townes: poore Tom thy horne is dry,
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Lear. Then let them Anatomize Regan: See what
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breeds about her heart. Is there any cause in Nature that
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make these hard-hearts. You sir, I entertaine for one of
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my hundred; only, I do not like the fashion of your garments.
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You will say they are Persian; but let them bee
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chang'd.
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Enter Gloster.
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Kent. Now good my Lord, lye heere, and rest awhile
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Lear. Make no noise, make no noise, draw the Curtaines:
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so, so, wee'l go to Supper i'th' morning
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Foole. And Ile go to bed at noone
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Glou. Come hither Friend:
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Where is the King my Master?
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Kent. Here Sir, but trouble him not, his wits are gon
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Glou. Good friend, I prythee take him in thy armes;
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I haue ore-heard a plot of death vpon him:
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There is a Litter ready, lay him in't,
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And driue toward Douer friend, where thou shalt meete
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Both welcome, and protection. Take vp thy Master,
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If thou should'st dally halfe an houre, his life
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With thine, and all that offer to defend him,
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Stand in assured losse. Take vp, take vp,
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And follow me, that will to some prouision
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Giue thee quicke conduct. Come, come, away.
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Exeunt.
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Scena Septima.
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Enter Cornwall, Regan, Gonerill, Bastard, and Seruants.
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Corn. Poste speedily to my Lord your husband, shew
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him this Letter, the Army of France is landed: seeke out
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the Traitor Glouster
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Reg. Hang him instantly
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Gon. Plucke out his eyes
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Corn. Leaue him to my displeasure. Edmond, keepe
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you our Sister company: the reuenges wee are bound to
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take vppon your Traitorous Father, are not fit for your
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beholding. Aduice the Duke where you are going, to a
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most festinate preparation: we are bound to the like. Our
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Postes shall be swift, and intelligent betwixt vs. Farewell
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deere Sister, farewell my Lord of Glouster.
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Enter Steward.
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How now? Where's the King?
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Stew. My Lord of Glouster hath conuey'd him hence
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Some fiue or six and thirty of his Knights
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Hot Questrists after him, met him at gate,
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Who, with some other of the Lords, dependants,
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Are gone with him toward Douer; where they boast
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To haue well armed Friends
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Corn. Get horses for your Mistris
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