Lear. Prithee, go in thyself; seek thine own ease:
This tempest will not give me leave to ponder 24
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, wheresoe'er you are, 28
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 32
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. 36
Edg. [Within.] Fathom and half, fathom and half! Poor Tom!
Fool. Come not in here, nuncle; here's a spirit.
Help me! help me!
Kent. Give me thy hand. Who's there? 40
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 madman.]
Edg. Away! the foul fiend follows me! 44
Through the sharp hawthorn blow the winds.
Hum! go to thy cold bed and warm thee.
Lear. Didst thou give all to thy two daughters?
And art thou come to this? 48
31 loop'd: full of holes
35 superflux: excess
