Edgar wanders in. Edmund feigns distress at how upset their father seems to be with Edgar, who saw him but two hours before. Edgar charges some unknown miscreant, which hypothesis Edmund gladly supports. He urges Edgar to leave, armed, and to proceed to Edmund’s chambers where they might meet that night. Edgar takes his advice and leaves. Edmund chortles at the “foolish honesty” of Edgar and their credulous father.
ACT I. SCENE II. SEGMENT B.
Pat—he comes like the catastrophe of the old
comedy. My cue is villainous melancholy, with a
sigh like Tom o’ Bedlam. O, these eclipses do 
portend these divisions. Fa, sol, la, mi.
How now, brother Edmund. What serious
contemplation are you in?
I am thinking, brother, of a prediction I read
this other day, what should follow these eclipses. 
EDGAR Do you busy yourself about that?
I promise you, the effects he writes of succeed
unhappily, [as of unnaturalness between the child
and the parent, death, dearth, dissolutions of
ancient amities, divisions in state, menaces and 
maledictions against king and nobles, needless
diffidences, banishment of friends, dissipation
of cohorts, nuptial breaches, and I know not what.
EDGAR How long have you been a sectary astronomical?
EDMUND Come, come,] when saw you my father last? 
EDGAR The night gone by.
EDMUND Spake you with him?
EDGAR Ay, two hours together.
Parted you in good terms? Found you no
displeasure in him by word or countenance? 
EDGAR None at all.
Bethink yourself wherein you may have offended
him, and at my entreaty forbear his presence
till some little time hath qualified the heat of
his displeasure, which at this instant so rageth 
in him that with the mischief of your person it
would scarcely allay.
EDGAR Some villain hath done me wrong.
That’s my fear. I pray you have a continent
forbearance till the speed of his rage goes 
slower; and, as I say, retire with me to my
lodging, from whence I will fitly bring you to
hear my lord speak. Pray ye, go. There’s my key.
If you do stir abroad, go armed.
EDGAR Armed, brother? 
Brother, I advise you to the best, go armed. I
am no honest man if there be any good meaning
towards you. I have told you what I have seen
and heard but faintly—nothing like the image
and horror of it. Pray you, away. 
EDGAR Shall I hear from you anon?
I do serve you in this business. Exit [Edgar]
A credulous father and a brother noble,
Whose nature is so far from doing harms
That he suspects none, on whose foolish honesty 
My practices ride easy. I see the business.
Let me, if not by birth, have lands by wit;
All with me’s meet that I can fashion fit.