heart. Is there any cause in nature that makes these hard
hearts?--[To Edgar.] You, sir, I entertain you for one of my
hundred; only I do not like the fashion of your garments: you'll
say they are Persian; but let them be changed.

Kent.
Now, good my lord, lie here and rest awhile.

Lear.
Make no noise, make no noise; draw the curtains:
So, so. We'll go to supper i' the morning.

Fool.
And I'll go to bed at noon.

[Re-enter Gloster.]

Glou.
Come hither, friend: where is the king my master?

Kent.
Here, sir; but trouble him not,--his wits are gone.

Glou.
Good friend, I pr'ythee, take him in thy arms;
I have o'erheard a plot of death upon him;
There is a litter ready; lay him in't
And drive towards Dover, friend, where thou shalt meet
Both welcome and protection. Take up thy master;
If thou shouldst dally half an hour, his life,