Page 1839 - Shakespeare - Vol. 3
P. 1839
Good sir, to th’purpose.
LEAR
Who put my man it’th’stocks?
(Tucket within.)
CORNWALL
What trumpet’s that? [180]
REGAN
I know’t, my sister’s: this approves her letter,
That she would soon be here.
Enter Oswald.
Is your Lady come?
LEAR
This is a slave, whose easy-borrow’d pride
Dwells in the fickle grace of her he follows.
Out, varlet, from my sight!
CORNWALL
What means your Grace? [185]
LEAR
Who stock’d my servant? Regan, I have good hope
Thou didst not know on’t. Who comes here?
Enter Goneril.
O Heavens,
If you do love old men, if your sweet sway
Allow obedience, if you yourselves are old,
Make it your cause; send down and take my part! [190]
(To Goneril.) Art not asham’d to look upon this beard?
O Regan! will you take her by the hand?
GONERIL
Why not by th’hand, sir? How have I offended?
All’s not offence that indiscretion finds
