King Lear
Hoppedance cries in Tom’s belly for two white herring. Croak not, black
angel; I have no food for thee.
KENT.
How do you, sir? Stand you not so amaz’d;
Will you lie down and rest upon the cushions?
LEAR.
I’ll see their trial first. Bring in their evidence.
[_To Edgar._] Thou, robed man of justice, take thy place.
[_To the Fool._] And thou, his yokefellow of equity,
Bench by his side. [_To Kent._] You are o’ the commission,
Sit you too.
EDGAR.
Let us deal justly.
Sleepest or wakest thou, jolly shepherd?
Thy sheep be in the corn;
And for one blast of thy minikin mouth
Thy sheep shall take no harm.
Purr! the cat is grey.
LEAR.
Arraign her first; ’tis Goneril. I here take my oath before
this honourable assembly, she kicked the poor King her father.
FOOL.
Come hither, mistress. Is your name Goneril?
LEAR.
She cannot deny it.
FOOL.
Cry you mercy, I took you for a joint-stool.
LEAR.
And here’s another, whose warp’d looks proclaim
What store her heart is made on. Stop her there!
Arms, arms! sword! fire! Corruption in the place!
False justicer, why hast thou let her ’scape?
EDGAR.
Bless thy five wits!
KENT.
O pity! Sir, where is the patience now
That you so oft have boasted to retain?
EDGAR.
[_Aside._] My tears begin to take his part so much
They mar my counterfeiting.
LEAR.
The little dogs and all,
Trey, Blanch, and Sweetheart, see, they bark at me.
EDGAR.
Tom will throw his head at them. Avaunt, you curs!
Be thy mouth or black or white,
Tooth that poisons if it bite;
Mastiff, greyhound, mongrel grim,
Hound or spaniel, brach or him,
Or bobtail tike or trundle-tail,
Tom will make them weep and wail;
For, with throwing thus my head,
Dogs leap the hatch, and all are fled.
Do, de, de, de. Sessa! Come, march to wakes and fairs and market towns.
Poor Tom, thy horn is dry.
LEAR.
Then let them anatomize Regan; see what breeds about her
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.
Enter Gloucester.
GLOUCESTER.
Come hither, friend;
Where is the King my master?
KENT.
Here, sir; but trouble him not, his wits are gone.
GLOUCESTER.
Good friend, I prythee, 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,
With thine, and all that offer to defend him,
Stand in assured loss. Take up, take up;
And follow me, that will to some provision
Give thee quick conduct.
KENT.
Oppressed nature sleeps.
This rest might yet have balm’d thy broken sinews,
Which, if convenience will not allow,
Stand in hard cure. Come, help to bear thy master;
[_To the Fool._] Thou must not stay behind.
GLOUCESTER.
Come, come, away!
[_Exeunt Kent, Gloucester and the Fool bearing off Lear._]
EDGAR.
When we our betters see bearing our woes,
We scarcely think our miseries our foes.
Who alone suffers, suffers most i’ the mind,
Leaving free things and happy shows behind:
But then the mind much sufferance doth o’erskip
When grief hath mates, and bearing fellowship.
How light and portable my pain seems now,
When that which makes me bend makes the King bow;
He childed as I fathered! Tom, away!
Mark the high noises; and thyself bewray,
When false opinion, whose wrong thoughts defile thee,
In thy just proof repeals and reconciles thee.
What will hap more tonight, safe ’scape the King!
Lurk, lurk.
[_Exit._]
SCENE VII. A Room in Gloucester’s Castle
Enter Cornwall, Regan, Goneril,
Edmund and Servants.
CORNWALL.
Post speedily to my lord your husband, show him this letter: the army
of France is landed. Seek out the traitor Gloucester.
[_Exeunt some of the Servants._]
REGAN.
Hang him instantly.
GONERIL.
Pluck out his eyes.
CORNWALL.
Leave him to my displeasure. Edmund, keep you our sister
company: the revenges we are bound to take upon your traitorous
father are not fit for your beholding. Advise the Duke where you
are going, to a most festinate preparation: we are bound to the
like. Our posts shall be swift and intelligent betwixt us.
Farewell, dear sister, farewell, my lord of Gloucester.
Enter Oswald.
How now! Where’s the King?
OSWALD.
My lord of Gloucester hath convey’d him hence:
Some five or six and thirty of his knights,
Hot questrists after him, met him at gate;
Who, with some other of the lord’s dependants,
Are gone with him toward Dover: where they boast
To have well-armed friends.
CORNWALL.
Get horses for your mistress.
GONERIL.
Farewell, sweet lord, and sister.
CORNWALL.
Edmund, farewell.
[_Exeunt Goneril, Edmund and Oswald._]
Go seek the traitor Gloucester,
Pinion him like a thief, bring him before us.
[_Exeunt other Servants._]
Though well we may not pass upon his life
Without the form of justice, yet our power
Shall do a courtesy to our wrath, which men
May blame, but not control. Who’s there? The traitor?
Enter Gloucester
and Servants.
REGAN.
Ingrateful fox! ’tis he.
CORNWALL.
Bind fast his corky arms.
GLOUCESTER.
What mean your graces?
Good my friends, consider you are my guests.
Do me no foul play, friends.
CORNWALL.
Bind him, I say.
[_Servants bind him._]
REGAN.
Hard, hard. O filthy traitor!
GLOUCESTER.
Unmerciful lady as you are, I’m none.
CORNWALL.
To this chair bind him. Villain, thou shalt find—
[_Regan plucks his beard._]
GLOUCESTER.
By the kind gods, ’tis most ignobly done
To pluck me by the beard.
REGAN.
So white, and such a traitor!
GLOUCESTER.
Naughty lady,
These hairs which thou dost ravish from my chin
Will quicken, and accuse thee. I am your host:
With robber’s hands my hospitable favours
You should not ruffle thus. What will you do?
CORNWALL.
Come, sir, what letters had you late from France?
REGAN.
Be simple answer’d, for we know the truth.
CORNWALL.
And what confederacy have you with the traitors,
Late footed in the kingdom?
REGAN.
To whose hands have you sent the lunatic King?
Speak.
GLOUCESTER.
I have a letter guessingly set down,
Which came from one that’s of a neutral heart,
And not from one oppos’d.
CORNWALL.
Cunning.
REGAN.
And false.
CORNWALL.
Where hast thou sent the King?
GLOUCESTER.
To Dover.
REGAN.
Wherefore to Dover? Wast thou not charg’d at peril,—
CORNWALL.
Wherefore to Dover? Let him first answer that.
GLOUCESTER.
I am tied to the stake, and I must stand the course.
REGAN.
Wherefore to Dover, sir?
GLOUCESTER.
Because I would not see thy cruel nails
Pluck out his poor old eyes; nor thy fierce sister
In his anointed flesh stick boarish fangs.
The sea, with such a storm as his bare head
In hell-black night endur’d, would have buoy’d up,
And quench’d the stelled fires;
Yet, poor old heart, he holp the heavens to rain.
If wolves had at thy gate howl’d that stern time,
Thou shouldst have said, ‘Good porter, turn the key.’
All cruels else subscrib’d: but I shall see
The winged vengeance overtake such children.
CORNWALL.
See’t shalt thou never. Fellows, hold the chair.
Upon these eyes of thine I’ll set my foot.
[_Gloucester is held down in his chair, while Cornwall plucks out one
of his eyes and sets his foot on it._]
GLOUCESTER.
He that will think to live till he be old,
Give me some help!—O cruel! O you gods!
REGAN.
One side will mock another; the other too!
CORNWALL.
If you see vengeance—
FIRST SERVANT.
Hold your hand, my lord:
I have serv’d you ever since I was a child;
But better service have I never done you
Than now to bid you hold.
REGAN.
How now, you dog!
FIRST SERVANT.
If you did wear a beard upon your chin,
I’d shake it on this quarrel. What do you mean?
CORNWALL.
My villain?
[_Draws, and runs at him._]
FIRST SERVANT.
Nay, then, come on, and take the chance of anger.
[_Draws. They fight. Cornwall is wounded._]
REGAN.
[_To another servant._] Give me thy sword. A peasant stand up thus?
[_Snatches a sword, comes behind, and stabs him._]
FIRST SERVANT.
O, I am slain! My lord, you have one eye left
To see some mischief on him. O!
[_Dies._]
CORNWALL.
Lest it see more, prevent it. Out, vile jelly!
Where is thy lustre now?
[_Tears out Gloucester’s other eye and throws it on the ground._]
GLOUCESTER.
All dark and comfortless. Where’s my son Edmund?
Edmund, enkindle all the sparks of nature
To quit this horrid act.
REGAN.
Out, treacherous villain!
Thou call’st on him that hates thee: it was he
That made the overture of thy treasons to us;
Who is too good to pity thee.
GLOUCESTER.
O my follies! Then Edgar was abus’d.
Kind gods, forgive me that, and prosper him!
REGAN.
Go thrust him out at gates, and let him smell
His way to Dover. How is’t, my lord? How look you?
CORNWALL.
I have receiv’d a hurt: follow me, lady.
Turn out that eyeless villain. Throw this slave
Upon the dunghill. Regan, I bleed apace:
Untimely comes this hurt: give me your arm.
[_Exit Cornwall, led by Regan; Servants unbind Gloucester and lead
him out._]
SECOND SERVANT.
I’ll never care what wickedness I do,
If this man come to good.
THIRD SERVANT.
If she live long,
And in the end meet the old course of death,
Women will all turn monsters.
SECOND SERVANT.
Let’s follow the old Earl, and get the bedlam
To lead him where he would: his roguish madness
Allows itself to anything.
THIRD SERVANT.
Go thou: I’ll fetch some flax and whites of eggs
To apply to his bleeding face. Now heaven help him!
[_Exeunt._]
ACT IV
SCENE I. The heath
Enter Edgar.
EDGAR.
Yet better thus, and known to be contemn’d,
Than still contemn’d and flatter’d. To be worst,
The lowest and most dejected thing of fortune,
Stands still in esperance, lives not in fear:
The lamentable change is from the best;
The worst returns to laughter. Welcome then,
Thou unsubstantial air that I embrace;
The wretch that thou hast blown unto the worst
Owes nothing to thy blasts.
Enter Gloucester, led by an
Old Man.
But who comes here? My father, poorly led?
World, world, O world!
But that thy strange mutations make us hate thee,
Life would not yield to age.
OLD MAN.
O my good lord, I have been your tenant, and your father’s tenant
these fourscore years.
GLOUCESTER.
Away, get thee away; good friend, be gone.
Thy comforts can do me no good at all;
Thee they may hurt.
OLD MAN.
You cannot see your way.
GLOUCESTER.
I have no way, and therefore want no eyes;
I stumbled when I saw. Full oft ’tis seen
Our means secure us, and our mere defects
Prove our commodities. O dear son Edgar,
The food of thy abused father’s wrath!
Might I but live to see thee in my touch,
I’d say I had eyes again!
OLD MAN.
How now! Who’s there?
EDGAR.
[_Aside._] O gods! Who is’t can say ‘I am at the
worst’?
I am worse than e’er I was.
OLD MAN.
’Tis poor mad Tom.
EDGAR.
[_Aside._] And worse I may be yet. The worst is not
So long as we can say ‘This is the worst.’
OLD MAN.
Fellow, where goest?
GLOUCESTER.
Is it a beggar-man?
OLD MAN.
Madman, and beggar too.
GLOUCESTER.
He has some reason, else he could not beg.
I’ the last night’s storm I such a fellow saw;
Which made me think a man a worm. My son
Came then into my mind, and yet my mind
Was then scarce friends with him.
I have heard more since.