Lear.
O me, my heart, my rising heart!--but down!

Fool.
Cry to it, nuncle, as the cockney did to the eels when she
put 'em i' the paste alive; she knapped 'em o' the coxcombs with
a stick and cried 'Down, wantons, down!' 'Twas her brother that,
in pure kindness to his horse, buttered his hay.

[Enter Cornwall, Regan, Gloster, and Servants.]

Lear.
Good-morrow to you both.

Corn.
Hail to your grace!

[Kent is set at liberty.]

Reg.
I am glad to see your highness.

Lear.
Regan, I think you are; I know what reason
I have to think so: if thou shouldst not be glad,
I would divorce me from thy mother's tomb,
Sepulchring an adultress.--[To Kent] O, are you free?
Some other time for that.--Beloved Regan,
Thy sister's naught: O Regan, she hath tied
Sharp-tooth'd unkindness, like a vulture, here,--