SCENE IV. The heath. Before a hovel. King Lear  Shakespeare homepage  |  King Lear  | Act 3, Scene 4 

 Previous scene  |  Next scene  SCENE IV. The heath. Before a hovel. 

 Enter KING LEAR, KENT, and Fool  KENT  Here is the place, my lord; good my lord, enter: 

 The tyranny of the open night's too rough 

 For nature to endure. 



 Storm still  KING LEAR  Let me alone. 

 KENT  Good my lord, enter here. 

 KING LEAR  Wilt break my heart? 

 KENT  I had rather break mine own. Good my lord, enter. 

 KING 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 fix'd, 

 The lesser is scarce felt. Thou'ldst shun a bear; 

 But if thy flight lay toward the raging sea, 

 Thou'ldst meet the bear i' the mouth. When the 

 mind's free, 

 The body's delicate: the tempest 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 lifting food to't? But I will punish home: 

 No, I will weep no more. In such a night 

 To shut me out! Pour on; I will endure. 

 In such a night as this! O Regan, Goneril! 

 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. 

 KING LEAR  Prithee, go in thyself: seek thine own ease: 

 This tempest will not give me leave to ponder 

 On things would hurt me more. But I'll go in. 



 To the Fool  In, boy; go first. You houseless poverty,-- 

 Nay, get thee in. I'll pray, and then I'll sleep. 



 Fool goes in  Poor naked wretches, whereso'er you are, 

 That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm, 

 How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides, 

 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 physic, pomp; 

 Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel, 

 That thou mayst shake the superflux to them, 

 And show the heavens more just. 

 EDGAR  [Within]  Fathom and half, fathom and half! Poor Tom! 



 The Fool runs out from the hovel  Fool  Come not in here, nuncle, here's a spirit 

 Help me, help me! 

 KENT  Give me thy hand. Who's there? 

 Fool  A spirit, a spirit: he says his name's poor Tom. 

 KENT  What art thou that dost grumble there i' the straw? 

 Come forth. 



 Enter EDGAR disguised as a mad man  EDGAR  Away! the foul fiend follows me! 

 Through the sharp hawthorn blows the cold wind. 

 Hum! go to thy cold bed, and warm thee. 

 KING LEAR  Hast thou given all to thy two daughters? 

 And art thou come to this? 

 EDGAR  Who gives any thing to poor Tom? whom the foul 

 fiend hath led through fire and through flame, and 

 through ford and whirlipool e'er bog and quagmire; 

 that hath laid knives under his pillow, and halters 

 in his pew; set ratsbane by his porridge; made film 

 proud of heart, to ride on a bay trotting-horse over 

 four-inched bridges, to course his own shadow for a 

 traitor. Bless thy five wits! Tom's a-cold,--O, do 

 de, do de, do de. Bless thee from whirlwinds, 

 star-blasting, and taking! Do poor Tom some 

 charity, whom the foul fiend vexes: there could I 

 have him now,--and there,--and there again, and there. 



 Storm still  KING LEAR  What, have his daughters brought him to this pass? 

 Couldst thou save nothing? Didst thou give them all? 

 Fool  Nay, he reserved a blanket, else we had been all shamed. 

 KING LEAR  Now, all the plagues that in the pendulous air 

 Hang fated o'er men's faults light on thy daughters! 

 KENT  He hath no daughters, sir. 

 KING LEAR  Death, traitor! nothing could have subdued nature 

 To such a lowness but his unkind daughters. 

 Is it the fashion, that discarded fathers 

 Should have thus little mercy on their flesh? 

 Judicious punishment! 'twas this flesh begot 

 Those pelican daughters. 

 EDGAR  Pillicock sat on Pillicock-hill: 

 Halloo, halloo, loo, loo! 

 Fool  This cold night will turn us all to fools and madmen. 

 EDGAR  Take heed o' the foul fiend: obey thy parents; 

 keep thy word justly; swear not; commit not with 

 man's sworn spouse; set not thy sweet heart on proud 

 array. Tom's a-cold. 

 KING LEAR  What hast thou been? 

 EDGAR  A serving-man, proud in heart and mind; that curled 

 my hair; wore gloves in my cap; served the lust of 

 my mistress' heart, and did the act of darkness with 

 her; swore as many oaths as I spake words, and 

 broke them in the sweet face of heaven: one that 

 slept in the contriving of lust, and waked to do it: 

 wine loved I deeply, dice dearly: and in woman 

 out-paramoured the Turk: false of heart, light of 

 ear, bloody of hand; hog in sloth, fox in stealth, 

 wolf in greediness, dog in madness, lion in prey. 

 Let not the creaking of shoes nor the rustling of 

 silks betray thy poor heart to woman: keep thy foot 

 out of brothels, thy hand out of plackets, thy pen 

 from lenders' books, and defy the foul fiend. 

 Still through the hawthorn blows the cold wind: 

 Says suum, mun, ha, no, nonny. 

 Dolphin my boy, my boy, sessa! let him trot by. 



 Storm still  KING LEAR  Why, thou wert better in thy grave than to answer 

 with thy uncovered body this extremity of the skies. 

 Is man no more than this? Consider him well. Thou 

 owest the worm no silk, the beast no hide, the sheep 

 no wool, the cat no perfume. Ha! here's three on 

 's are sophisticated! Thou art the thing itself: 

 unaccommodated man is no more but such a poor bare, 

 forked animal as thou art. Off, off, you lendings! 

 come unbutton here. 



 Tearing off his clothes  Fool  Prithee, nuncle, be contented; 'tis a naughty night 

 to swim in. Now a little fire in a wild field were 

 like an old lecher's heart; a small spark, all the 

 rest on's body cold. Look, here comes a walking fire. 



 Enter GLOUCESTER, with a torch  EDGAR  This is the foul fiend Flibbertigibbet: he begins 

 at curfew, and walks till the first cock; he gives 

 the web and the pin, squints the eye, and makes the 

 hare-lip; mildews the white wheat, and hurts the 

 poor creature of earth. 

 S. Withold footed thrice the old; 

 He met the night-mare, and her nine-fold; 

 Bid her alight, 

 And her troth plight, 

 And, aroint thee, witch, aroint thee! 

 KENT  How fares your grace? 

 KING LEAR  What's he? 

 KENT  Who's there? What is't you seek? 

 GLOUCESTER  What are you there? Your names? 

 EDGAR  Poor Tom; that eats the swimming frog, the toad, 

 the tadpole, the wall-newt and the water; that in 

 the fury of his heart, when the foul fiend rages, 

 eats cow-dung for sallets; swallows the old rat and 

 the ditch-dog; drinks the green mantle of the 

 standing pool; who is whipped from tithing to 

 tithing, and stock- punished, and imprisoned; who 

 hath had three suits to his back, six shirts to his 

 body, horse to ride, and weapon to wear; 

 But mice and rats, and such small deer, 

 Have been Tom's food for seven long year. 

 Beware my follower. Peace, Smulkin; peace, thou fiend! 

 GLOUCESTER  What, hath your grace no better company? 

 EDGAR  The prince of darkness is a gentleman: 

 Modo he's call'd, and Mahu. 

 GLOUCESTER  Our flesh and blood is grown so vile, my lord, 

 That it doth hate what gets it. 

 EDGAR  Poor Tom's a-cold. 

 GLOUCESTER  Go in with me: my duty cannot suffer 

 To obey in all your daughters' hard commands: 

 Though their injunction be to bar my doors, 

 And let this tyrannous night take hold upon you, 

 Yet have I ventured to come seek you out, 

 And bring you where both fire and food is ready. 

 KING LEAR  First let me talk with this philosopher. 

 What is the cause of thunder? 

 KENT  Good my lord, take his offer; go into the house. 

 KING LEAR  I'll talk a word with this same learned Theban. 

 What is your study? 

 EDGAR  How to prevent the fiend, and to kill vermin. 

 KING LEAR  Let me ask you one word in private. 

 KENT  Importune him once more to go, my lord; 

 His wits begin to unsettle. 

 GLOUCESTER  Canst thou blame him? 



 Storm still  His daughters seek his death: ah, that good Kent! 

 He said it would be thus, poor banish'd man! 

 Thou say'st the king grows mad; I'll tell thee, friend, 

 I am almost mad myself: I had a son, 

 Now outlaw'd from my blood; he sought my life, 

 But lately, very late: I loved him, friend; 

 No father his son dearer: truth to tell thee, 

 The grief hath crazed my wits. What a night's this! 

 I do beseech your grace,-- 

 KING LEAR  O, cry your mercy, sir. 

 Noble philosopher, your company. 

 EDGAR  Tom's a-cold. 

 GLOUCESTER  In, fellow, there, into the hovel: keep thee warm. 

 KING LEAR  Come let's in all. 

 KENT  This way, my lord. 

 KING LEAR  With him; 

 I will keep still with my philosopher. 

 KENT  Good my lord, soothe him; let him take the fellow. 

 GLOUCESTER  Take him you on. 

 KENT  Sirrah, come on; go along with us. 

 KING LEAR  Come, good Athenian. 

 GLOUCESTER  No words, no words: hush. 

 EDGAR  Child Rowland to the dark tower came, 

 His word was still,--Fie, foh, and fum, 

 I smell the blood of a British man. 



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