and convenient seeming
Hast practised on man's life: close pent-up guilts,
Rive your concealing continents,
These dreadful summoners grace. I am a man
More sinn'd against than sinning.
Gracious my lord, hard by here is a hovel;
Some friendship will it lend you 'gainst
Repose you there; while I to this hard house
More harder than the stones whereof 'tis raised;
even but now, demanding after you,
Denied me to come inreturn, and force
Their scanted courtesy.
My wits begin to turn.
Come on, my boy: how dost, my boy? art cold?
I am cold myself. Where is this
straw, my fellow?
The art of our necessities is strange,
That can make vile things precious. Come,
Poor fool and knave, I have one part in my heart
That's sorry yet for thee.
He that has and a little tiny wit
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
Must make content with his
For the rain it raineth every day.
True, my good boy. Come, bring us to this hovel.
Exeunt KING LEAR and KENT
This is a brave night to cool a courtezan.
I'll speak a prophecy ere I go:
When priests are more in word
When brewers mar their malt with water;
When nobles are their tailors' tutors;
burn'd, but wenches' suitors;
When every case in law is right;
No squire in debt, nor no poor knight;
slanders do not live in tongues;
Nor cutpurses come not to throngs;
When usurers tell their gold i' the
And bawds and whores do churches build;
Then shall the realm of Albion
Come to great confusion:
comes the time, who lives to see't,
That going shall be used with feet.
This prophecy Merlin shall make; for
I live before his time.
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