No, I'll not weep. I have full cause of weeping:..
This heart shall break into a thousand * flaws,
Or ere I weep. O fool, I shall go mad.

SCENE XIII. Wilful Men.

O, fir, to wilful men,

The injuries, that they themselves procure,
Must be their school-masters.

ACT III.

SCENE I.

Description of Lear's Distress amidst the Storm.

Kent. Where's the king ?

Gent. Contending with the fretful elements;
Bids the wind blow the earth into the fea;
Or swell the curled waters 'bove the main,

That things might change, or cease tears his white

hair,

(Which the impetuous blasts with eyeless rage

Catch in their fury ;)

Strives in his little world of man t'out-fcorn

The to-and-fro-conflicting wind and rain.

This night, wherein the (13) cub-drawn bear would

couch,

The lion, and the belly-pinched wolf
Keep their furr dry; unbonneted he runs,

And bids what will take all.

:

+ Ibave, &c.] Perhaps this should be, The I've full cause. **See p. 19, n. 6, of this volume.

(13) Cub-drawn i. e. Drawn dry by its cubs, and therefore the more ready to go out in fearch of prey: he speaks of a lioness with udders all drazun dry, in the 25th page of the first volume.

SCENE

SCENE II. Lear's passionate Exclamations amidst the Tempest.

Blow winds, and crack your cheeks; rage, blow!
You cataracts, and hurricanoes, spout
Till you have drencht our steeples, drown'd the cocks!
You sulph'rous and thought-executing fires,
(14) Vaunt-couriers of oak-cleaving thunder-bolts,
Singe my white head. And thou all-shaking thunder,
Strike flat the thick rotundity o'th world;
Crack nature's mould, all (15) germins spill at once
That make ingrateful man.
Rumble thy belly-full, spit fire, spout rain;
Nor rain, wind, thunder, fire, are my daughters;
I tax not you, you elements, with unkindness;
I never gave you kingdom, call'd you children;
You owe me no subscription. Then let fall
Your horrible pleasure;-here I stand your slave;
A poor, infirm, weak, and despis'd old man !
But yet I call you servile ministers,

That have with two pernicious daughters join'd
Your high-engender'd battles, 'gainst a head
So old and white as this. Oh! oh! 'tis foul.

Kent. Alas, fir, are you here? things that love

night,

Love

(14) Vaunt-couriers, &c.] Nothing can be plainer than this pafsage, which it is surprizing Mr. Warburton should so much miftake, as to imagine this line the players fpurious issue, on account of any contradiction in it: the reader may see his note, and Mra Edwards's comment upon it, in the Canons of Criticism, p. 33. In the mean time we may be contented with this clear fenfe"You fires and lightnings, fore-runners of the thunder, finge me, &c.--- You thunder strike flat the th ck rotundity of the world."

(15) Germins) Vulg. Germains-This reading is Mr. Theobald's. The word is derived from germen, σπορα, feed, the sense is, "Crack nature's mould, and spill all the feeds of matter, that are hoarded within it." In the Winter's Tale, he says;

:

Let nature crush the fides of th' earth together,
And mar the feeds within." See Macbeth, A. 4. S. 2.

L

Love not such nights as these: the wrathful skies
(16) Gallow the very wand'rers of the dark,
And make them keep their caves: since I was man,
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 force.

Lear. Let the great gods,

That keep this dreadful pudder o'er our heads,
Find out their enemies now. Tremble, thou wretch,
That haft within thee undivulged crimes,
Unwhipt of justice. Hide thee, thou bloody hand:
Thou perjure, and thou fimilar of virtue,
That art incestuous: caitiff, shake to pieces,
That under covert and convenient feeming,
Hast practis'd on man's life !-Close pent up gu 'Its,
Rive your concealing continents, and ask
These dreadful summoners grace.-I am a man,
More finn'd against, than finning.

Kent. Alack, bare-headed?

Gracious my lord, hard by here is a hovel;
Some friendship will it lend you 'gainst the tempeft.

* * *

*

*

*

*

Lear. Thou think'st 'tis much, that this contentious

storm

Invades us to the skin; so 'tis to thee;

But where the greater malady is fixt,

The leffer is scarce felt. Thou'dst shun a bear,

But if thy flight lay tow'rd the roaring fea,

Thou'dst meet the bear i'th' mouth. When the mind's

free,

The body's delicate; the tempeft in my mind
Doth from my senses take all feeling else,
Save what beats there. Filial ingratitude !
Is it not, as this mouth should tear this hand

For

(16) Gallow) i, e. Scare, frighten. See the foregoing paffage,

For lifting food to`t?-But I'll punish home;
No, I will weep no more-In fuch a night,
To shut me out ?-pour on, I will endure :
In such a night as this? O, Regan, Gonerill,
Your old kind father, whose frank heart gave all-
O, that way madness lies; let me shun that;
No more of that.-

Kent. Good my lord, enter here.

Lear. Pr'ythee, go in thyself; seek thine own eafe;

This tempeft will not give me leave to ponder
On things would hurt me more
but I'll go in,
In, boy, go first. You houseless poverty-
Nay, get thee in; I'll pray, and then I'll fsleep -
Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are,
That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm!
How shall your houseless heads, and unfed fides,
Your loop'd and window'd raggedness defend you
From seasons such as these ?-O, I have ta'en
Too little care of this! take physick, pomp;
Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel,
That thou may'st shake the superflux to them,
And shew the heav'ns more jutt.

Enter Edgar difguis'd like a Madman.

Edg. Away! the foul fiend follows me." Through the sharp hawthorn blows the cold wind. Humph, go to thy bed and warm thee.

Lear. Didst thou give all to thy daughters? and art thou come to this? * * Didst thou give them all? Now all the plagues that in the pendulous air Hang fated o'er mens faults, light on thy daughters! Kent. He hath no daughters, fir.

Lear. Death! traitor, nothing could have fubdu'd

nature

To such a lowness, but his unkind daughters.
Is it the fashion that difcarded fathers

Should

Should have thus little mercy on their flesh?
Judicious punishment! 'twas this flesh begot
Those pelican daughters (17).

SCENE VI. On Man.

(18) Is man no more than this? Confider him well. 'Thou ow'st the worm no filk, the beast no hide, the sheep no wool, the cat no perfume. Ha! here's three of us are sophisticated. Thou art the thing itself: unaccommodated man is no more but fuch a poor, bare, forked animal as thou art. Off, off, you lendings: come, unbutton here.

Makes thee the happier: heavens deal so still!
Let the fuperfluous and luft-dieted man,
(19) That flaves your ordinance, that will not fee
Because he does not feel, feel your power quickly:
So diftribution should undo excess,

And each man have enough.

(17) I have given the reader all the most beautiful passages of this celebrated part of the tragedy, and have avoided any comments on it, as its beauties are so striking, and so generally commended: however, if he thinks proper, he may, by consulting Mr. Smith's Tranflation of Longinus, find some observations there not unworthy his regard. See the 3d note on the 10th section.

(18) Is man, &c.] See Measure for Measure, Vol. I. p. 49. n. 17. (19) That flaves, &c.] Mr. Warburton is for reading, braves here: but he still forgets how frequently Shakespear makes verbs of substantives, and instead of endeavouring to explain his author's words, immediately has recourse to the easy art of altering, when there is any difficulty: by flaves your ordinance, the poet means, makes a flave of your ordinance: "makes it subservient, as Mr. Upton observes, to his superfluities and lufts."

SCENE