Act IV
 
Scene I
 
 
[The open country near Gloucester’s castle]
Enter EDGAR

  Edg.  Yet better thus, and known to be contemn’d,   
Than, still contemn’d and flatter’d, to be worst,   
The lowest and most dejected 1 thing of fortune   
Stands still in esperance, 2 lives not in fear.           4
The lamentable change is from the best;   
The worst returns to laughter. 3 Welcome, then,   
Thou unsubstantial air that I embrace!   
The wretch that thou hast blown unto the worst           8
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,           12
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.   
  Glou.  Away, get thee away! Good friend, be gone;   
Thy comforts can do me no good at all;           16
Thee they may hurt.   
  Old Man.  [Alack, sir,] you cannot see your way.   
  Glou.  I have no way, and therefore want no eyes;   
I stumbled when I saw. Full oft ’tis seen,           20
Our means secure us, 4 and our mere defects   
Prove our commodities. 5 O dear son Edgar,   
The food of thy abused 6 father’s wrath!   
Might I but live to see thee in my touch,           24
I’d say I had eyes again!   
  Old Man.        How now! Who’s there?   
  Edg.  [Aside.]  O gods! Who is ’t can say, “I am at the worst”?   
I am worse than e’er I was.           28
  Old Man.        ’Tis poor mad Tom.   
  Edg.  [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?           32
  Glou.        Is it a beggar-man?   
  Old Man.  Madman and beggar too.   
  Glou.  He has some reason, else he could not beg.   
I’ the last night’s storm I such a fellow saw,           36
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.   
As flies to wanton boys, are we to the gods,           40
They kill us for their sport.   
  Edg.        [Aside.]  How should this be?   
Bad is the trade that must play fool to sorrow,   
Ang’ring itself and others.—Bless thee, master!           44
  Glou.  Is that the naked fellow?   
  Old Man.        Ay, my lord.   
  Glou.  [Then, prithee,] get thee away. If, for my sake,   
Thou wilt o’ertake us, hence a mile or twain           48
I’ the way toward Dover, do it for ancient love;   
And bring some covering for this naked soul,   
Which I’ll entreat to lead me.   
  Old Man.        Alack, sir, he is mad.           52
  Glou.  ’Tis the time’s plague, when madmen lead the blind.   
Do as I bid thee, or rather do thy pleasure;   
Above the rest, be gone   
  Old Man.  I’ll bring him the best ’parel that I have,           56
Come on ’t what will.   
  Glou.  Sirrah, naked fellow,—   
  Edg.  Poor Tom’s a-cold. [Aside.] I cannot daub it 7 further.   
  Glou.  Come hither, fellow.           60
  Edg.  [Aside.]  And yet I must.—Bless thy sweet eyes, they bleed.   
  Glou.  Know’st thou the way to Dover?   
  Edg.  Both stile and gate, horse-way and foot-path. Poor Tom hath been scar’d out of his good wits. Bless thee, good man’s son, from the foul fiend! [Five fiends have been in poor Tom at once; of lust, as Obidicut; Hobbididence, prince of dumbness; Mahu, of stealing; Modo, of murder; Flibbertigibbet, of mopping and mowing, 8 who since possesses chambermaids and waiting-women. So, bless thee, master!]   
  Glou.  Here, take this purse, thou whom the heavens’ plagues           64
Have humbled to all strokes. That I am wretched   
Makes thee the happier; heavens, deal so still!   
Let the superfluous and lust-dieted man,   
That slaves your ordinance, 9 that will not see           68
Because he does not feel, feel your power quickly;   
So distribution should undo excess,   
And each man have enough. Dost thou know Dover?   
  Edg.  Ay, master.           72
  Glou.  There is a cliff, whose high and bending head   
Looks fearfully in the confined 10 deep.   
Bring me but to the very brim of it,   
And I’ll repair the misery thou dost bear           76
With something rich about me. From that place   
I shall no leading need.   
  Edg.        Give me thy arm;   
Poor Tom shall lead thee.  Exeunt.           80
 
Note 1. Abased. [back]
Note 2. Hope. [back]
Note 3. A change from the worst must be towards good. [back]
Note 4. Render us careless. [back]
Note 5. Advantages. [back]
Note 6. Deceived. [back]
Note 7. Keep up the disguise. [back]
Note 8. Making grimaces. [back]
Note 9. That subordinates instead of obeying your commands (?). The reference is to the command to give to the needy. [back]
Note 10. Restrained by the cliffs. [back]
 

Scene II
 
 
[Before the Duke of Albany’s palace]
Enter GONERIL, Bastard [EDMUND], and Steward [OSWALD]

  Gon.  Welcome, my lord! I marvel our mild husband   
Not met us on the way.—Now, where’s your master?   
  Osw.  Madam, within; but never man so chang’d.   
I told him of the army that was landed;           4
He smil’d at it. I told him you were coming;   
His answer was, “The worse.” Of Gloucester’s treachery,   
And of the loyal service of his son,   
When I inform’d him, then he call’d me sot,           8
And told me I had turn’d the wrong side out.   
What most he should dislike seems pleasant to him;   
What like, offensive.   
  Gon.  [To EDM.]  Then shall you go no further.           12
It is the cowish 1 terror of his spirit,   
That dares not undertake; he’ll not feel wrongs   
Which tie him to an answer. 2 Our wishes on the way   
May prove effects. 3 Back, Edmund, to my brother;           16
Hasten his musters and conduct his powers.   
I must change names at home, and give the distaff   
Into my husband’s hands. This trusty servant   
Shall pass between us. Ere long you are like to hear,           20
If you dare venture in your own behalf,   
A mistress’s command. Wear this; spare speech;   
Decline your head. This kiss, if it durst speak,   
Would stretch thy spirits up into the air.           24
Conceive, and fare thee well.   
  Edm.  Yours in the ranks of death.  Exit.   
  Gon.        My most dear Gloucester!   
O, the difference of man and man!           28
To thee a woman’s services are due;   
My Fool usurps my body.   
  Osw.        Madam, here comes my lord.  Exit.   
 
Enter the DUKE OF ALBANY

  Gon.  I have been worth the whistle. 4           32
  Alb.        O Goneril!   
You are not worth the dust which the rude wind   
Blows in your face. [I fear your disposition.   
That nature which contemns its origin           36
Cannot be bordered certain in itself. 5   
She that herself will sliver 6 and disbranch   
From her material 7 sap, perforce must wither   
And come to deadly use. 8           40
  Gon.  No more; the text is foolish.   
  Alb.  Wisdom and goodness to the vile seem vile;   
Filths savour but themselves. What have you done?   
Tigers, not daughters, what have you perform’d?           44
A father, and a gracious aged man,   
Whose reverence even the head-lugg’d 9 bear would lick,   
Most barbarous, most degenerate! have you madded. 10   
Could my good brother suffer you to do it?           48
A man, a prince, by him so benefited!   
If that the heavens do not their visible spirits   
Send quickly down to tame these vile offences,   
It will come,           52
Humanity must perforce prey on itself,   
Like monsters of the deep.]   
  Gon.        Milk-liver’d 11 man!   
That bear’st a cheek for blows, a head for wrongs,           56
Who hast not in thy brows an eye discerning   
Thine honour from thy suffering, [that not know’st   
Fools do those villains pity who are punish’d   
Ere they have done their mischief, where’s thy drum?           60
France spreads his banners in our noiseless 12 land,   
With plumed helm thy state begins to threat;   
Whiles thou, a moral fool, sits still, and cries,   
“Alack, why does he so?”]           64
  Alb.        See thyself, devil!   
Proper 13 deformity seems not in the fiend   
So horrid as in woman.   
  Gon.        O vain fool!           68
  [Alb.  Thou changed and self-cover’d 14 thing, for shame!   
Be-monster not thy feature. Were ’t my fitness   
To let these hands obey my blood,   
They are apt enough to dislocate and tear           72
Thy flesh and bones. Howe’er thou art a fiend   
A woman’s shape doth shield thee.   
  Gon.  Marry, your manhood—Mew!   
 
Enter a Messenger

  Alb.  What news?]           76
  Mess.  O, my good lord, the Duke of Cornwall’s dead;   
Slain by his servant, going to put out   
The other eye of Gloucester.   
  Alb.        Gloucester’s eyes!           80
  Mess.  A servant that he bred, thrill’d with remorse, 15   
Oppos’d against the act, bending 16 his sword   
To his great master; who, thereat enrag’d,   
Flew on him, and amongst them fell’d him dead;           84
But not without that harmful stroke, which since   
Hath pluck’d him after.   
  Alb.        This shows you are above,   
You justicers, that these our nether 17 crimes.           88
So speedily can venge! But, O poor Gloucester!   
Lost he his other eye?   
  Mess.        Both, both, my lord.   
This letter, madam, craves a speedy answer.           92
’Tis from your sister.   
  Gon.  [Aside.]  One way I like this well;   
But being widow, and my Gloucester with her,   
May all the building in my fancy pluck           96
Upon my hateful life. 18 Another way,   
The news is not so tart.—I’ll read, and answer.  Exit.   
  Alb.  Where was his son when they did take his eyes?   
  Mess.  Come with my lady hither.           100
  Alb.        He is not here.   
  Mess.  No, my good lord; I met him back again.   
  Alb.  Knows he the wickedness?   
  Mess.  Ay, my good lord; ’twas he inform’d against him;           104
And quit the house on purpose, that their punishment   
Might have the freer course.   
  Alb.        Gloucester, I live   
To thank thee for the love thou show’dst the King,           108
And to revenge thine eyes. Come hither, friend;   
Tell me what more thou know’st.  Exeunt.   
 
Note 1. Cowardly. [back]
Note 2. Retaliation. [back]
Note 3. Come to pass. [back]
Note 4. Worth consideration. [back]
Note 5. Cannot be counted on to keep within bounds. [back]
Note 6. Break off. [back]
Note 7. Essential. [back]
Note 8. I. e., to burning. [back]
Note 9. Pulled by the head. [back]
Note 10. Driven mad. [back]
Note 11. Cowardly. [back]
Note 12. Peaceful. [back]
Note 13. Appropriate to a fiend. [back]
Note 14. Whose devilish self is covered with a human form (?) [back]
Note 15. Pity. [back]
Note 16. Directing. [back]
Note 17. Committed on earth. [back]
Note 18. My castles in the air may tumble and make my life hateful to me. [back]
 

Scene III
 
 
The French camp near Dover
Enter KENT and a Gentleman

  Kent.  Why the King of France is so suddenly gone back, know you no reason?   
  Gent.  Something he left imperfect in the state, which since his coming forth is thought of; which imports to the kingdom so much fear and danger that his personal return was most required and necessary.   
  Kent.  Who hath he left behind him General?   
  Gent.  The Marshal of France, Monsieur La Far.           4
  Kent.  Did your letters pierce the Queen to any demonstration of grief?   
  Gent.  Ay, sir; she took them, read them in my presence;   
And now and then an ample tear trill’d 1 down   
Her delicate cheek. It seem’d she was a queen           8
Over her passion, 2 who, most rebel-like,   
Sought to be king o’er her.   
  Kent.        O, then it mov’d her.   
  Gent.  Not to a rage; patience and sorrow strove           12
Who should express her goodliest. You have seen   
Sunshine and rain at once: her smiles and tears   
Were like a better way; those happy smilets   
That play’d on her ripe lip seem’d not to know           16
What guests were in her eyes, which, parted thence,   
As pearls from diamonds dropp’d. In brief,   
Sorrow would be a rarity most beloved,   
If all could so become it.           20
  Kent.        Made she no verbal question?   
  Gent.  Faith, once or twice she heav’d the name of “father”   
Pantingly forth, as if it press’d her heart;   
Cried, “Sisters! sisters! Shame of ladies! sisters!           24
Kent! father! sisters! What, i’ the storm? i’ the night?   
Let pity 3 not be believ’d!” There she shook   
The holy water from her heavenly eyes;   
And, clamour-moistened, then away she started           28
To deal with grief alone.   
  Kent.        It is the stars,   
The stars above us, govern our conditions; 4   
Else one self mate and make 5 could not beget           32
Such different issues. You spoke not with her since?   
  Gent.  No.   
  Kent.  Was this before the King return’d?   
  Gent.        No, since.           36
  Kent.  Well, sir, the poor distressed Lear’s i’ the town;   
Who sometime, in his better tune, remembers   
What we are come about, and by no means   
Will yield to see his daughter.           40
  Gent.        Why, good sir?   
  Kent.  A sovereign shame so elbows 6 him. His own unkindness,   
That stripp’d her from his benediction, turn’d her   
To foreign casualties, gave her dear rights           44
To his dog-hearted daughters,—these things sting   
His mind so venomously, that burning shame   
Detains him from Cordelia.   
  Gent.        Alack, poor gentleman!           48
  Kent.  Of Albany’s and Cornwall’s powers 7 you heard not?   
  Gent.  ’Tis so, they are afoot.   
  Kent.  Well, sir, I’ll bring you to our master Lear,   
And leave you to attend him. Some dear 8 cause           52
Will in concealment wrap me up a while;   
When I am known aright, you shall not grieve   
Lending me this acquaintance. I pray you, go   
Along with me.]  Exeunt.           56
 
Note 1. Trickled. [back]
Note 2. Emotion. [back]
Note 3. The existence of pity. [back]
Note 4. Dispositions. [back]
Note 5. Husband and wife. [back]
Note 6. Shoves him back. [back]
Note 7. Armies. [back]
Note 8. Important and intimate. [back]
 

Scene IV
 
 
[The same. A tent]
Enter, with drum and colours, CORDELIA, Doctor, and Soldiers

  Cor.  Alack, ’tis he! Why, he was met even now   
As mad as the vex’d sea, singing aloud,   
Crown’d with rank fumiter and furrow-weeds,   
With hardocks, hemlock, nettles, cuckoo-flowers,           4
Darnel, and all the idle weeds that grow   
In our sustaining corn. A sentry send forth;   
Search every acre in the high-grown field,   
And bring him to our eye. [Exit an Officer.] What can man’s wisdom           8
In the restoring his bereaved sense?   
He that helps him take all my outward worth.   
  Doct.  There is means, madam.   
Our foster-nurse of nature is repose,           12
The which he lacks; that to provoke in him,   
Are many simples 1 operative, whose power   
Will close the eye of anguish.   
  Cor.        All blest secrets,           16
All you unpublish’d virtues of the earth,   
Spring with my tears! be aidant and remediate 2   
In the good man’s distress! Seek, seek for him,   
Lest his ungovern’d rage dissolve the life           20
That wants the means to lead it.   
 
Enter a Messenger

  Mess.        News, madam!   
The British powers are marching hitherward.   
  Cor.  ’Tis known before; our preparation stands           24
In expectation of them. O dear father,   
It is thy business that I go about;   
Therefore great France   
My mourning and importune 3 tears hath pitied.           28
No blown 4 ambition doth our arms incite,   
But love, dear love, and our ag’d father’s right.   
Soon may I hear and see him!  Exeunt.   
 
Note 1. Medicinal herbs. [back]
Note 2. Helpful and curative. [back]
Note 3. Importunate, persistent. [back]
Note 4. Puffed up. [back]
 

Scene V
 
 
[Gloucester’s castle]
Enter REGAN and Steward [OSWALD]

  Reg.  But are my brother’s powers set forth?   
  Osw.        Ay, madam.   
  Reg.  Himself in person there?   
  Osw.        Madam, with much ado. 1           4
Your sister is the better soldier.   
  Reg.  Lord Edmund spake not with your lord at home?   
  Osw.  No, madam.   
  Reg.  What might import my sister’s letter to him?           8
  Osw.  I know not, lady.   
  Reg.  Faith, he is posted hence on serious matter.   
It was great ignorance, 2 Gloucester’s eyes being out,   
To let him live; where he arrives he moves           12
All hearts against us. Edmund, I think, is gone,   
In pity of his misery, to dispatch   
His nighted 3 life; moreover, to descry   
The strength o’ the enemy.           16
  Osw.  I must needs after him, madam, with my letter.   
  Reg.  Our troops set forth to-morrow, stay with us;   
The ways are dangerous.   
  Osw.        I may not, madam:           20
My lady charg’d my duty in this business.   
  Reg.  Why should she write to Edmund? Might not you   
Transport her purposes by word? Belike   
Some things—I know not what. I’ll love thee much,           24
Let me unseal the letter.   
  Osw.        Madam, I had rather—   
  Reg.  I know your lady does not love her husband;   
I am sure of that; and at her late being here           28
She gave strange œillades 4 and most speaking looks   
To noble Edmund. I know you are of her bosom. 5   
  Osw.  I, madam?   
  Reg.  I speak in understanding; y’ are, I know ’t.           32
Therefore I do advise you, take this note:   
My lord is dead; Edmund and I have talk’d;   
And more convenient is he for my hand   
Than for your lady’s. You may gather more.           36
If you do find him, pray you, give him this;   
And when your mistress hears thus much from you,   
I pray, desire her call her wisdom to her.   
So, fare you well.           40
If you do chance to hear of that blind traitor,   
Preferment falls on him that cuts him off.   
  Osw.  Would I could meet him, madam! I should show What party I do follow.   
  Reg.        Fare thee well.  [Exeunt.           44
 
Note 1. Induced with much difficulty. [back]
Note 2. Folly. [back]
Note 3. Blinded. [back]
Note 4. Amorous glances. [back]
Note 5. In her confidence. [back]

Scene VI
 
 
[Fields near Dover]
Enter GLOUCESTER, and EDGAR [dressed like a peasant]

  Glou.  When shall I come to the top of that same hill?   
  Edg.  You do climb up it now; look, how we labour.   
  Glou.  Methinks the ground is even.   
  Edg.        Horrible steep.           4
Hark, do you hear the sea?   
  Glou.        No, truly.   
  Edg.  Why, then, your other senses grow imperfect   
By your eyes’ anguish.           8
  Glou.        So may it be, indeed.   
Methinks thy voice is alter’d, and thou speak’st   
In better phrase and matter than thou didst.   
  Edg.  You’re much deceiv’d. In nothing am I chang’d           12
But in my garments.   
  Glou.        Methinks you’re better spoken.   
  Edg.  Come on, sir, here’s the place; stand still. How fearful   
And dizzy ’tis, to cast one’s eyes so low!           16
The crows and choughs 1 that wing the midway air   
Show scarce so gross 2 as beetles. Half way down   
Hangs one that gathers samphire, 3 dreadful trade!   
Methinks he seems no bigger than his head.           20
The fishermen, that walk upon the beach,   
Appear like mice; and yond tall anchoring bark,   
Diminish’d to her cock; 4 her cock, a buoy   
Almost too small for sight. The murmuring surge,           24
That on the unnumb’red idle pebbles chafes,   
Cannot be heard so high. I’ll look no more,   
Lest my brain turn, and the deficient sight   
Topple down headlong.           28
  Glou.        Set me where you stand.   
  Edg.  Give me your hand; you are now within a foot   
Of the extreme verge. For all beneath the moon   
Would I not leap upright.           32
  Glou.        Let go my hand.   
Here, friend, ’s another purse; in it a jewel   
Well worth a poor man’s taking. Fairies and gods   
Prosper it with thee! Go thou further off;           36
Bid me farewell, and let me hear thee going.   
  Edg.  Now fare ye well, good sir.   
  Glou.        With all my heart.   
  Edg.  Why I do trifle thus with his despair           40
Is done to cure it.   
  Glou.  [Kneeling.]  O you mighty gods!   
This world I do renounce, and in your sights   
Shake patiently my great affliction off.           44
If I could bear it longer, and not fall   
To quarrel with your great opposeless wills,   
My snuff 5 and loathed part of nature should   
Burn itself out. If Edgar live, O bless him!           48
Now, fellow, fare thee well.   
  Edg.        Gone, sir; farewell!   
—And yet I know not how conceit 6 may rob   
The treasury of life, when life itself           52
Yields 7 to the theft. [GLOU. throws himself forward.] Had he been where he thought,   
By this had thought been past. Alive or dead?—   
Ho, you sir! friend! Hear you, sir! speak!—   
Thus might he pass 8 indeed; yet he revives.—           56
What are you, sir?   
  Glou.        Away, and let me die.   
  Edg.  Hadst thou been aught but gossamer, feathers, air,   
So many fathom down precipitating,           60
Thou ’dst shiver’d like an egg: but thou dost breathe;   
Hast heavy substance; bleed’st not; speak’st; art sound.   
Ten masts at each 9 make not the altitude   
Which thou hast perpendicularly fell.           64
Thy life’s a miracle. Speak yet again.   
  Glou.  But have I fallen, or no?   
  Edg.  From the dread summit of this chalky bourn. 10   
Look up a-height; 11 the shrill-gorg’d 12 lark so far           68
Cannot be seen or heard. Do but look up.   
  Glou.  Alack, I have no eyes.   
Is wretchedness depriv’d that benefit,   
To end itself by death? ’Twas yet some comfort,           72
When misery could beguile the tyrant’s rage,   
And frustrate his proud will.   
  Edg.        Give me your arm.   
Up: so. How is ’t? Feel you your legs? You stand.           76
  Glou.  Too well, too well.   
  Edg.        This is above all strangeness.   
Upon the crown o’ the cliff, what thing was that   
Which parted from you?           80
  Glou.        A poor unfortunate beggar.   
  Edg.  As I stood here below, methought his eyes   
Were two full moons; he had a thousand noses,   
Horns whelk’d 13 and waved like the enridged sea.           84
It was some fiend; therefore, thou happy father,   
Think that the clearest 14 gods, who make them honours   
Of men’s impossibilities, have preserv’d thee.   
  Glou.  I do remember now. Henceforth I’ll bear           88
Affliction till it do cry out itself,   
“Enough, enough,” and die. That thing you speak of,   
I took it for a man; often ’twould say,   
“The fiend, the fiend!” He led me to that place.           92
  Edg.  Bear free and patient thoughts.   
 
Enter LEAR [fantastically dressed with wild flowers]

        But who comes here?   
The safer 15 sense will ne’er accommodate 16   
His master thus.           96
  Lear.  No, they cannot touch me for coining;   
I am the King himself.   
  Edg.  O thou side-piercing sight!   
  Lear.  Nature’s above art in that respect. There’s your press-money. That fellow handles his bow like a crow-keeper; draw me a clothier’s yard. Look, look, a mouse! Peace, peace; this piece of toasted cheese will do ’t. There’s my gauntlet; I’ll prove it on a giant. Bring up the brown bills. O, well flown, bird! I’ the clout, 17 i’ the clout! Hewgh! Give the word. 18           100
  Edg.  Sweet marjoram.   
  Lear.  Pass.   
  Glou.  I know that voice.   
  Lear.  Ha! Goneril, with a white beard! They flatter’d me like a dog, and told me I had the white hairs in my beard ere the black ones were there. To say “ay” and “no” to everything that I said! “Ay” and “no” too was no good divinity. When the rain came to wet me once, and the wind to make me chatter; when the thunder would not peace at my bidding; there I found ’em, there I smelt ’em out. Go to, they are not men o’ their words: they told me I was everything; ’tis a lie, I am not ague-proof.           104
  Glou.  The trick of that voice I do well remember.   
Is ’t not the King?   
  Lear.          Ay, every inch a king!   
When I do stare, see how the subject quakes.           108
I pardon that man’s life. What was thy cause? 19   
Adultery?   
Thou shalt not die. Die for adultery! No:   
The wren goes to ’t, and the small gilded fly           112
Does lecher in my sight.   
Let copulation thrive; for Gloucester’s bastard son   
Was kinder to his father than my daughters   
Got ’tween the lawful sheets.           116
To ’t, luxury, 20 pell-mell! for I lack soldiers.   
Behold yond simp’ring dame,   
Whose face between her forks 21 presages snow,   
That minces virtue, and does shake the head           120
To hear of pleasure’s name,—   
The fitchew, 22 nor the soiled 23 horse, goes to ’t   
With a more riotous appetite.   
Down from the waist they are Centaurs,           124
Though women all above;   
But to the girdle do the gods inherit,   
Beneath is all the fiends’;   
There’s hell, there’s darkness, there’s the sulphurous pit,           128
Burning, scalding, stench, consumption; fie, fie, fie! pah, pah!   
Give me an ounce of civet; good apothecary, sweeten my imagination.   
There’s money for thee.   
  Glou.  O, let me kiss that hand!           132
  Lear.  Let me wipe it first; it smells of mortality.   
  Glou.  O ruin’d piece of nature! This great world   
Shall so wear out to nought. Dost thou know me?   
  Lear.  I remember thine eyes well enough. Dost thou squiny 24 at me? No, do thy worst, blind Cupid; I’ll not love. Read thou this challenge; mark but the penning of it.           136
  Glou.  Were all thy letters suns, I could not see.   
  Edg.  [Aside.]  I would not take this from report. It is; and my heart breaks at it.   
  Lear.  Read.   
  Glou.  What, with the case 25 of eyes?           140
  Lear.  O, ho, are you there with me? No eyes in your head, nor no money in your purse? Your eyes are in a heavy case, your purse in a light; yet you see how this world goes.   
  Glou.  I see it feelingly.   
  Lear.  What, art mad? A man may see how this world goes with no eyes. Look with thine ears; see how yond justice rails upon yond simple thief. Hark, in thine ear: change places, and, handy-dandy, which is the justice, which is the thief? Thou has seen a farmer’s dog bark at a beggar?   
  Glou.  Ay, sir.           144
  Lear.  And the creature run from the cur? There thou mightst behold the great image of authority: a dog’s obey’d in office.
Thou rascal beadle, hold thy bloody hand!   
Why dost thou lash that whore? Strip thy own back;   
Thou hotly lusts to use her in that kind   
For which thou whip’st her. The usurer hangs the cozener. 26           148
Through tatter’d clothes great vices do appear;   
Robes and furr’d gowns hide all. Plate sins with gold,   
And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks;   
Arm it in rags, a pigmy’s straw does pierce it.           152
None does offend, none, I say, none; I’ll able 27 ’em.   
Take that of me, my friend, who have the power   
To seal the accuser’s lips. Get thee glass eyes,   
And, like a scurvy politician, seem           156
To see the things thou dost not. Now, now, now, now.   
Pull off my boots; harder, harder: so.   
  Edg.  O, matter and impertinency 28 mix’d!   
Reason in madness!           160
  Lear.  If thou wilt weep my fortunes, take my eyes.   
I know thee well enough; thy name is Gloucester.   
Thou must be patient; we came crying hither.   
Thou know’st, the first time that we smell the air,           164
We wawl and cry. I will preach to thee; mark.   
  Glou.  Alack, alack the day!   
  Lear.  When we are born, we cry that we are come   
To this great stage of fools.—This a good block. 29           168
It were a delicate stratagem, to shoe   
A troop of horse with felt. I’ll put ’t in proof; 30   
And when I have stol’n upon these son-in-laws,   
Then, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill!           172
 
Enter a Gentleman [with Attendants]

  Gent.  O, here he is! Lay hand upon him. Sir,   
Your most dear daughter—   
  Lear.  No rescue? What, a prisoner? I am even   
The natural fool of fortune. Use me well;           176
You shall have ransom. Let me have surgeons;   
I am cut to the brains.   
  Gent.        You shall have anything.   
  Lear.  No seconds? All myself?           180
Why, this would make a man a man of salt, 31   
To use his eyes for garden water-pots,   
[Ay, and laying autumn’s dust.   
  Gent.        Good sir,—]           184
  Lear.  I will die bravely, like a smug 32 bridegroom. What! I will be jovial. Come, come; I am a king,
My masters, know you that?   
  Gent.  You are a royal one, and we obey you.   
  Lear.  Then there’s life in ’t. Come, an you get it, you shall get it by running. Sa, sa, sa, sa.  Exit [running; Attendants follow].   
  Gent.  A sight most pitiful in the meanest wretch,           188
Past speaking of in a king! Thou hast one daughter   
Who redeems Nature from the general curse   
Which twain have brought her to.   
  Edg.  Hail, gentle sir.           192
  Gent.        Sir, speed you: what’s your will?   
  Edg.  Do you hear aught, sir, of a battle toward?   
  Gent.  Most sure and vulgar; 33 every one hears that,   
Which can distinguish sound.           196
  Edg.        But, by your favour,   
How near’s the other army?   
  Gent.  Near and on speedy foot; the main descry 34   
Stands on the hourly thought.           200
  Edg.  I thank you, sir; that’s all.   
  Gent.  Though that the Queen on special cause is here,   
Her army is mov’d on.  Exit.   
  Edg.        I thank you, sir.           204
  Glou.  You ever-gentle gods, take my breath from me;   
Let not my worser spirit tempt me again   
To die before you please!   
  Edg.        Well pray you, father.           208
  Glou.  Now, good sir, what are you?   
  Edg.  A most poor man, made tame to fortune’s blows;   
Who, by the art of known and feeling sorrows,   
Am pregnant 35 to good pity. Give me your hand,           212
I’ll lead you to some biding.   
  Glou.        Hearty thanks;   
The bounty and the benison of Heaven   
To boot, and boot!           216
 
Enter Steward [OSWALD]

  Osw.        A proclaim’d prize! Most happy!   
That eyeless head of thine was first fram’d flesh   
To raise my fortunes. Thou old unhappy traitor,   
Briefly thyself remember; the sword is out           220
That must destroy thee.   
  Glou.        Now let thy friendly hand   
Put strength enough to ’t.  [EDGAR interposes.]   
  Osw.        Wherefore, bold peasant,           224
Dar’st thou support a publish’d 36 traitor? Hence;   
Lest that the infection of his fortune take   
Like hold on thee. Let go his arm.   
  Edg.  ’Chill 37 not let go, zir, without vurther ’casion.           228
  Osw.  Let go, slave, or thou diest!   
  Edg.  Good gentleman, go your gait, and let poor volk pass. An ’chud 38 ha’ bin zwagger’d out of my life, ’t would not ha’bin zo long as ’tis by a vortnight. Nay, come not near th’ old man; keep out, ’che vor ye, 39 or Ise try whether your costard 40 or my ballow 41 be the harder. ’Chill be plain with you.   
  Osw.  Out, dunghill!   
  Edg.  ’Chill pick your teeth, zir. Come, no matter vor your foins. 42  [They fight, and EDGAR knocks him down.]           232
  Osw.  Slave, thou hast slain me. Villain, take my purse.   
If ever thou wilt thrive, bury my body;   
And give the letters which thou find’st about me   
To Edmund, Earl of Gloucester; seek him out           236
Upon 43 the English party. O, untimely death!   
Death!  Dies.   
  Edg.  I know thee well; a serviceable villain,   
As duteous to the vices of thy mistress           240
As badness would desire.   
  Glou.        What, is he dead?   
  Edg.  Sit you down, father; rest you.   
Let’s see these pockets; the letters that he speaks of           244
May be my friends. He’s dead; I am only sorry   
He had no other death’s-man. Let us see.   
Leave, gentle wax; and, manners, blame us not.   
To know our enemies’ minds, we rip their hearts;           248
Their papers, is more lawful.   
  (Reads the letter.) “Let our reciprocal vows be rememb’red. You have many opportunities to cut him off; if your will want not, time and place will be fruitfully offer’d. There is nothing done, if he return the conqueror; then am I the prisoner, and his bed my gaol; from the loathed warmth whereof deliver me, and supply the place for your labour.
“Your—wife, so I would say—
“Affectionate servant,

“GONERIL.”
   
O indistinguish’d space 44 of woman’s will! 45   
A plot upon her virtuous husband’s life;           252
And the exchange my brother! Here, in the sands,   
Thee I’ll rake up, the post unsanctified   
Of murderous lechers; and in the mature time   
With this ungracious paper strike the sight           256
Of the death-practis’d 46 duke. For him ’tis well   
That of thy death and business I can tell.   
  Glou.  The King is mad; how stiff is my vile sense   
That I stand up and have ingenious 47 feeling           260
Of my huge sorrows! Better I were distract;   
So should my thoughts be sever’d from my griefs,  Drum afar off.   
And woes by wrong imaginations lose   
The knowledge of themselves.           264
  Edg.  Give me your hand.   
Far off, methinks, I hear the beaten drum.   
Come, father, I’ll bestow 48 you with a friend.  Exeunt.   
 
Note 1. Jackdaws. [back]
Note 2. Large. [back]
Note 3. A herb used for pickling. [back]
Note 4. Cock-boat. [back]
Note 5. Refuse, worthless part. [back]
Note 6. Imagination. [back]
Note 7. Consents to. [back]
Note 8. Die. [back]
Note 9. End to end. [back]
Note 10. Boundary. [back]
Note 11. On high. [back]
Note 12. Shrill-throated. [back]
Note 13. Twisted (?). [back]
Note 14. Most righteous. [back]
Note 15. Saner. [back]
Note 16. Fit out. [back]
Note 17. Mark. [back]
Note 18. Pass-word. [back]
Note 19. Accusation. [back]
Note 20. Lust. [back]
Note 21. Probably, hair ornaments. [back]
Note 22. Pole-cat. [back]
Note 23. Lusty with feeding. [back]
Note 24. Squint. [back]
Note 25. Sockets. [back]
Note 26. Swindler. [back]
Note 27. Warrant. [back]
Note 28. Sense and nonsense. [back]
Note 29. Hat (?). [back]
Note 30. To the test. [back]
Note 31. Tears. [back]
Note 32. Neat, fine. [back]
Note 33. Generally known. [back]
Note 34. The sight of the main body is hourly expected. [back]
Note 35. Ready. [back]
Note 36. Publicly proclaimed. [back]
Note 37. I will. [back]
Note 38. If I could. [back]
Note 39. I warn you. [back]
Note 40. Head. [back]
Note 41. Cudgel. [back]
Note 42. Thrusts. [back]
Note 43. Among. [back]
Note 44. Unlimited range. [back]
Note 45. Appetites. [back]
Note 46. Whose death was plotted. [back]
Note 47. Conscious. [back]
Note 48. Lodge. [back]

Scene VII
 
 
[A tent in the French camp]
Enter CORDELIA, KENT, and Doctor

  Cor.  O thou good Kent, how shall I live and work   
To match thy goodness? My life will be too short,   
And every measure fail me.   
  Kent.  To be acknowledg’d, madam, is o’er-paid.           4
All my reports go with the modest truth;   
Nor more nor clipp’d, 1 but so.   
  Cor.        Be better suited;   
These weeds are memories of those worser hours.           8
I prithee, put them off.   
  Kent.        Pardon, dear madam;   
Yet to be known shortens my made intent. 2   
My boon I make it, that you know me not           12
Till time and I think meet.   
  Cor.  Then be ’t so, my good lord. [To the Doctor.] How does the King?   
  Doct.  Madam, sleeps still.   
  Cor.  O you kind gods,           16
Cure this great breach in his abused nature!   
The untun’d and jarring senses, O, wind up   
Of this child-changed 3 father!   
  Doct.        So please your Majesty           20
That we may wake the King? He hath slept long.   
  Cor.  Be govern’d by your knowledge, and proceed   
I’ the sway of your own will.   
 
Enter LEAR in a chair carried by Servants. [Gentleman in attendance]

        Is he array’d?           24
  Gent.  Ay, madam; in the heaviness of sleep   
We put fresh garments on him.   
  Doct.  Be by, good madam, when we do awake him;   
I doubt not of his temperance. 4           28
  [Cor.        Very well.   
  Doct.  Please you, draw near.—Louder the music there!]   
  Cor.  O my dear father! Restoration hang   
Thy medicine on my lips; and let this kiss           32
Repair those violent harms that my two sisters   
Have in thy reverence made!   
  Kent.        Kind and dear princess!   
  Cor.  Had you not been their father, these white flakes           36
Did challenge pity of them. Was this a face   
To be oppos’d against the warring winds?   
[To stand against the deep dread-bolted thunder?   
In the most terrible and nimble stroke           40
Of quick, cross lightning? to watch—poor perdu! 5—   
With this thin helm?] Mine enemy’s dog,   
Though he had bit me, should have stood that night   
Against my fire; and wast thou fain, poor father,           44
To hovel thee with swine and rogues forlorn   
In short and musty straw? Alack, alack!   
’Tis wonder that thy life and wits at once   
Had not concluded all. He wakes; speak to him.           48
  Doct.  Madam, do you; ’tis fittest.   
  Cor.  How does my royal lord? How fares your Majesty?   
  Lear.  You do me wrong to take me out o’ the grave.   
Thou art a soul in bliss; but I am bound           52
Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears   
Do scald like molten lead.   
  Cor.        Sir, do you know me?   
  Lear.  You are a spirit, I know; when did you die?           56
  Cor.  Still, still, far wide! 6   
  Doct.  He’s scarce awake; let him alone a while.   
  Lear.  Where have I been? Where am I? Fair daylight?   
I am mightily abus’d. I should even die with pity,           60
To see another thus. I know not what to say.   
I will not swear these are my hands. Let’s see;   
I feel this pin prick. Would I were assur’d   
Of my condition!           64
  Cor.        O, look upon me, sir,   
And hold your hand in benediction o’er me.   
[No, sir,] you must not kneel.   
  Lear.        Pray, do not mock me.           68
I am a very foolish fond 7 old man,   
Fourscore and upward, not an hour more nor less;   
And, to deal plainly,   
I fear I am not in my perfect mind.           72
Methinks I should know you, and know this man;   
Yet I am doubtful; for I am mainly 8 ignorant   
What place this is, and all the skill I have   
Remembers not these garments; nor I know not           76
Where I did lodge last night. Do not laugh at me;   
For, as I am a man, I think this lady   
To be my child Cordelia.   
  Cor.        And so I am, I am.           80
  Lear.  Be your tears wet? Yes, faith. I pray, weep not.   
If you have poison for me, I will drink it.   
I know you do not love me; for your sisters   
Have, as I do remember, done me wrong;           84
You have some cause, they have not.   
  Cor.        No cause, no cause.   
  Lear.  Am I in France?   
  Kent.        In your own kingdom, sir.           88
  Lear.  Do not abuse me.   
  Doct.  Be comforted, good madam; the great rage, 9   
You see, is kill’d in him: [and yet it is danger   
To make him even o’er the time he has lost.]           92
Desire him to go in; trouble him no more   
Till further settling.   
  Cor.  Will ’t please your Highness walk?   
  Lear.        You must bear with me.           96
Pray you now, forget and forgive; I am old and foolish.  Exeunt [all but KENT and Gentleman].   
  [Gent.  Holds it true, sir, that the Duke of Cornwall was so slain?   
  Kent.  Most certain, sir.   
  Gent.  Who is conductor of his people?           100
  Kent.  As ’tis said, the bastard son of Gloucester.   
  Gent.  They say Edgar, his banish’d son, is with the Earl of Kent in Germany.   
  Kent.  Report is changeable. ’Tis time to look about; the powers of the kingdom approach apace.   
  Gent.  The arbitrement 10 is like to be bloody.           104
Fare you well, sir.  [Exit.]   
  Kent.  My point and period will be throughly wrought,   
Or well or ill, as this day’s battle’s fought.]  Exit.   
 
Note 1. Shortened. [back]
Note 2. Interferes with the plan I have formed. [back]
Note 3. Changed by the cruelty of his children. [back]
Note 4. Sanity. [back]
Note 5. A soldier put on dangerous sentry duty. [back]
Note 6. Delirious. [back]
Note 7. Foolish. [back]
Note 8. Quite. [back]
Note 9. Frenzy. [back]
Note 10. Decision. [back]

Act V
 
Scene I
 
 
[The British camp, near Dover]
Enter, with drum and colours, EDMUND, REGAN, Gentlemen, and Soldiers

  Edm.  Know of the Duke if his last purpose hold,   
Or whether since he is advis’d 1 by aught   
To change the course. He’s full of alteration   
And self-reproving; bring his constant pleasure. 2  [To a Gentleman, who goes out.]           4
  Reg.  Our sister’s man is certainly miscarried.   
  Edm.  ’Tis to be doubted, madam.   
  Reg.        Now, sweet lord,   
You know the goodness I intend upon you.           8
Tell me—but truly—but then speak the truth,   
Do you not love my sister?   
  Edm.        In honour’d love.   
  Reg.  But have you never found my brother’s way           12
To the forfended 3 place?   
  [Edm.        That thought abuses you.   
  Reg.  I am doubtful that you have been conjunct   
And bosom’d with her,—as far as we call hers.] 4           16
  Edm.  No, by mine honour, madam.   
  Reg.  I never shall endure her. Dear my lord,   
Be not familiar with her.   
  Edm.        Fear me not.           20
She and the Duke her husband!   
 
Enter, with drum and colours, ALBANY, GONERIL, and Soldiers

  [Gon.  [Aside.]  I had rather lose the battle than that sister   
Should loosen him and me.]   
  Alb.  Our very loving sister, well be-met.           24
Sir, this I heard: the King is come to his daughter,   
With others whom the rigour of our state 5   
Forc’d to cry out. [Where I could not be honest,   
I never yet was valiant. For this business,           28
It toucheth us, as France invades our land,   
Not bolds 6 the King, with others, whom, I fear,   
Most just and heavy causes make oppose.   
  Edm.  Sir, you speak nobly.]           32
  Reg.        Why is this reason’d? 7   
  Gon.  Combine together ’gainst the enemy;   
For these domestic and particular broils   
Are not the question here.           36
  Alb.        Let’s then determine.   
With the ancient 8 of war on our proceeding.   
  [Edm.  I shall attend you presently at your tent.]   
  Reg.  Sister, you’ll go with us?           40
  Gon.  No.   
  Reg.  ’Tis most convenient; pray you, go with us.   
  Gon.  [Aside.]  O, ho, I know the riddle.—I will go.  Exeunt both the armies.   
 
[As they are going out,] enter EDGAR [disguised. ALBANY remains]

  Edg.  If e’er your Grace had speech with man so poor,           44
Hear me one word.   
  Alb.        I’ll overtake you.—Speak.   
  Edg.  Before you fight the battle, ope this letter.   
If you have victory, let the trumpet sound           48
For him that brought it. Wretched though I seem,   
I can produce a champion that will prove   
What is avouched 9 there. If you miscarry,   
Your business of the world hath so an end,           52
And machination ceases. Fortune love you!   
  Alb.  Stay till I have read the letter.   
  Edg.        I was forbid it.   
When time shall serve, let but the herald cry,           56
And I’ll appear again.  Exit.   
  Alb.  Why, fare thee well; I will o’erlook 10 thy paper.   
 
Re-enter EDMUND

  Edm.  The enemy’s in view; draw up your powers.   
Here is the guess of their true strength and forces           60
By diligent discovery; 11 but your haste   
Is now urg’d on you.   
  Alb.        We will greet the time. 12  Exit.   
  Edm.  To both these sisters have I sworn my love;           64
Each jealous 13 of the other, as the stung   
Are of the adder. Which of them shall I take?   
Both? one? or neither? Neither can be enjoy’d,   
If both remain alive. To take the widow           68
Exasperates, makes mad her sister Goneril;   
And hardly shall I carry out my side,   
Her husband being alive. Now then we’ll use   
His countenance for the battle; which being done,           72
Let her who would be rid of him devise   
His speedy taking off. 14 As for the mercy   
Which he intends to Lear and to Cordelia,   
The battle done, and they within our power,           76
Shall never see his pardon; for my state   
Stands on me to defend, not to debate. 15  Exit.   
 
Note 1. Induced. [back]
Note 2. Fixed resolve. [back]
Note 3. Forbidden. [back]
Note 4. Intimate with her, to the utmost extent. [back]
Note 5. Government. [back]
Note 6. Not because it emboldens. [back]
Note 7. Discussed. [back]
Note 8. Veterans. [back]
Note 9. Asserted. [back]
Note 10. Read. [back]
Note 11. Scouting. [back]
Note 12. Face the emergency. [back]
Note 13. Suspicious. [back]
Note 14. Murder. [back]
Note 15. It concerns me to defend my position, not discuss it. [back]
 

Scene II
 
 
[A field between the two camps]
Alarum within. Enter with drum and colours, LEAR, CORDELIA, and Soldiers, over the stage; and exeunt
Enter EDGAR and GLOUCESTER

  Edg.  Here, father, take the shadow of this tree   
For your good host; pray that the right may thrive.   
If ever I return to you again,   
I’ll bring you comfort.           4
  Glou.  Grace go with you, sir!  Exit [EDGAR].   
 
Alarum and retreat within. Re-enter EDGAR

  Edg.  Away, old man; give me thy hand; away!   
King Lear hath lost, he and his daughter ta’en.   
Give me thy hand; come on.           8
  Glou.  No further, sir; a man may rot even here.   
  Edg.  What, in ill thoughts again? Men must endure   
Their going hence, even as their coming hither;   
Ripeness is all. Come on.           12
  Glou.        And that’s true too.  Exeunt.

Scene III
 
 
[The British camp near Dover]
Enter, in conquest, with drum and colours, EDMUND; LEAR and CORDELIA as prisoners: Captain, Soldiers, etc.

  Edm.  Some officers take them away. Good guard,   
Until their greater pleasures first be known   
That are to censure 1 them.   
  Cor.        We are not the first           4
Who, with best meaning, have incurr’d the worst.   
For thee, oppressed king, I am cast down;   
Myself could else out-frown false Fortune’s frown.   
Shall we not see these daughters and these sisters?           8
  Lear.  No, no, no, no! Come, let’s away to prison;   
We two alone will sing like birds i’ the cage.   
When thou dost ask me blessing, I’ll kneel down   
And ask of thee forgiveness. So we’ll live,           12
And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh   
At gilded butterflies, and hear poor rogues   
Talk of court news; and we’ll talk with them too,   
Who loses and who wins; who’s in, who’s out;           16
And take upon ’s the mystery of things   
As if we were God’s spies; and we’ll wear out,   
In a wall’d prison, packs and sects 2 of great ones,   
That ebb and flow by the moon.           20
  Edm.        Take them away.   
  Lear.  Upon such sacrifices, my Cordelia,   
The gods themselves throw incense. Have I caught thee?   
He that parts us shall bring a brand from heaven,           24
And fire us hence like foxes. 3 Wipe thine eyes;   
The good-years 4 shall devour them, flesh and fell,   
Ere they shall make us weep. We’ll see ’em starv’d first.   
Come.  Exeunt [LEAR and CORDELIA, guarded].           28
  Edm.  Come hither, captain; hark.   
Take thou this note [giving a paper]; go follow them to prison.   
One step I have advanc’d thee; if thou dost   
As this instructs thee, thou dost make thy way           32
To noble fortunes. Know thou this, that men   
Are as the time is; to be tender-minded   
Does not become a sword. Thy great employment   
Will not bear question; 5 either say thou’lt do ’t,           36
Or thrive by other means.   
  Capt.        I’ll do ’t, my lord.   
  Edm.  About it; and write happy 6 when thou hast done.   
Mark, I say, instantly; and carry it so           40
As I have set it down.   
  [Capt.  I cannot draw a cart, nor eat dried oats;   
If it be man’s work, I’ll do ’t.]  Exit.   
 
Flourish. Enter ALBANY, GONERIL, REGAN, [another Captain] and Soldiers

  Alb.  Sir, you have show’d to-day your valiant strain, 7           44
And fortune led you well. You have the captives   
Who were the opposites 8 of this day’s strife;   
I do require them of you, so to use them   
As we shall find their merits and our safety           48
May equally determine.   
  Edm.        Sir, I thought it fit   
To send the old and miserable king   
To some retention 9 [and appointed guard];           52
Whose age had charms in it, whose title more,   
To pluck the common bosom on his side,   
And turn our impress’d lances in our eyes   
Which do command them. With him I sent the Queen,           56
My reason all the same; and they are ready   
To-morrow, or at further space, to appear   
Where you shall hold your session. [At this time   
We sweat and bleed: the friend hath lost his friend;           60
And the best quarrels, in the heat, are curs’d   
By those that feel their sharpness:   
The question of Cordelia and her father   
Requires a fitter place.]           64
  Alb.        Sir, by your patience,   
I hold you but a subject of this war,   
Not as a brother.   
  Reg.        That’s as we list to grace him.           68
Methinks our pleasure might have been demanded,   
Ere you had spoke so far. He led our powers,   
Bore the commission of my place and person;   
The which immediacy 10 may well stand up,           72
And call itself your brother.   
  Gon.        Not so hot.   
In his own grace he doth exalt himself,   
More than in your addition. 11           76
  Reg.        In my rights,   
By me invested, he compeers 12 the best.   
  Gon.  That were the most, if he should husband you.   
  Reg.  Jesters do oft prove prophets.           80
  Gon.        Holla, holla!   
That eye that told you so look’d but a-squint.   
  Reg.  Lady, I am not well; else I should answer   
From a full-flowing stomach. 13 General,           84
Take thou my soldiers, prisoners, patrimony;   
Dispose of them, of me; the walls are thine.   
Witness the world, that I create thee here   
My lord and master.           88
  Gon.        Mean you to enjoy him?   
  Alb.  The let-alone 14 lies not in your good will.   
  Edm.  Nor in thine, lord.   
  Alb.        Half-blooded fellow, yes.           92
  Reg.  [To EDMUND.]  Let the drum strike, and prove my title thine.   
  Alb.  Stay yet; hear reason. Edmund, I arrest thee   
On capital treason; and, in thy arrest,   
This gilded serpent. [Pointing to GON.] For your claim, fair sister,           96
I bar it in the interest of my wife.   
’Tis she is sub-contracted to this lord,   
And I, her husband, contradict your bans.   
If you will marry, make your loves to me,           100
My lady is bespoke.   
  Gon.        An interlude! 15   
  Alb.  Thou art armed, Gloucester; let the trumpet sound.   
If none appear to prove upon thy person           104
Thy heinous, manifest, and many treasons,   
There is my pledge [throwing down a glove]. I’ll prove it on thy heart,   
Ere I taste bread, thou art in nothing less   
Than I have here proclaim’d thee.           108
  Reg.        Sick, O sick!   
  Gon.  [Aside.]  If not, I’ll ne’er trust medicine.   
  Edm.  There’s my exchange [throwing down a glove]. What in the world he is   
That names me traitor, villain-like he lies.           112
Call by the trumpet;—he that dares approach,   
On him, on you, who not? I will maintain   
My truth and honour firmly.   
  Alb.  A herald, ho!           116
  [Edm.        A herald, ho, a herald!]   
  Alb.  Trust to thy single virtue; 16 for thy soldiers,   
All levied in my name, have in my name   
Took their discharge.           120
  Reg.        My sickness grows upon me.   
  Alb.  She is not well; convey her to my tent.  [Exit REGAN, led.]   
 
Enter a Herald

Come hither, herald,—Let the trumpet sound—   
And read out this.           124
  [Capt. Sound, trumpet!]        A trumpet sounds.   
  Her. (Reads.)  “If any man of quality or decree within the lists of the army will maintain upon Edmund, supposed Earl of Gloucester, that he is a manifold traitor, let him appear by the third sound of the trumpet. He is bold in his defence.”   
  [Edm.  Sound!]  First trumpet.   
  Her.  Again!  Second trumpet.           128
  Her.  Again!  Third trumpet. Trumpet answers within.   
 
Enter EDGAR, at the third sound, armed, with a trumpet 17 before him.

  Alb.  Ask him his purposes, why he appears   
Upon this call o’ the trumpet.   
  Her.        What are you?           132
Your name, your quality? and why you answer   
This present summons?   
  Edg.        Know, my name is lost,   
By treason’s tooth bare-gnawn and canker-bit, 18           136
Yet am I noble as the adversary   
I come to cope. 19   
  Alb.        Which is that adversary?   
  Edg.  What’s he that speaks for Edmund Earl of Gloucester?           140
  Edm.  Himself; what say’st thou to him?   
  Edg.        Draw thy sword,   
That, if my speech offend a noble heart,   
Thy arm may do thee justice; here is mine.           144
Behold, it is the privilege of mine honours,   
My oath, and my profession. I protest,   
Maugre 20 thy strength, place, youth, and eminence,   
Despite thy victor-sword and fire-hewn 21 fortune,           148
Thy valour, and thy heart, 22 thou art a traitor;   
False to thy gods, thy brother, and thy father;   
Conspirant ’gainst this high illustrious prince;   
And, from the extremest upward of thy head           152
To the descent 23 and dust below thy foot,   
A most toad-spotted traitor. Say thou “No,”   
This sword, this arm, and my best spirits are bent   
To prove upon thy heart, whereto I speak,           156
Thou liest.   
  Edm.        In wisdom I should ask thy name;   
But, since thy outside looks so fair and warlike,   
And that thy tongue some ’say 24 of breeding breathes,           160
What safe and nicely I might well delay,   
By rule of knighthood, I disdain and spurn.   
Back do I toss these treasons to thy head;   
With the hell-hated lie o’erwhelm thy heart;           164
Which, for they yet glance by and scarcely bruise,   
This sword of mine shall give them instant way,   
Where they shall rest for ever. Trumpets, speak!  Alarums. They fight. [EDMUND falls.]   
  Alb.  Save him, save him!           168
  Gon.        This is [mere] practice, 25 Gloucester.   
By the law of war thou wast not bound to answer   
An unknown opposite. 26 Thou art not vanquish’d,   
But cozen’d 27 and beguil’d.           172
  Alb.        Shut your mouth, dame,   
Or with this paper shall I stop it. Hold, sir.—   
Thou worse than any name, read thine own evil.   
No tearing, lady; I perceive you know it.           176
  Gon.  Say, if I do, the laws are mine, not thine.   
Who can arraign me for ’t?  [Exit.]   
  Alb.        Most monstrous! oh!—   
Know’st thou this paper?           180
  Edm.        Ask me not what I know.   
  Alb.  Go after her; she’s desperate; govern her.   
  Edm.  What you have charg’d me with, that have I done;   
And more, much more; the time will bring it out.           184
’Tis past, and so am I. But what art thou   
That hast this fortune on me? If thou ’rt noble,   
I do forgive thee.   
  Edg.        Let’s exchange charity.           188
I am no less in blood than thou art, Edmund;   
If more, the more thou ’st wrong’d me.   
My name is Edgar, and thy father’s son.   
The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices           192
Make instruments to plague us.   
The dark and vicious place where thee he got   
Cost him his eyes.   
  Edm.        Thou ’st spoken right, ’tis true.           196
The wheel is come full circle; I am here.   
  Alb.  Methought thy very gait did prophesy   
A royal nobleness. I must embrace thee.   
Let sorrow split my heart, if ever I           200
Did hate thee or thy father!   
  Edg.        Worthy prince, I know ’t.   
  Alb.  Where have you hid yourself?   
How have you known the miseries of your father?           204
  Edg.  By nursing them, my lord. List a brief tale;   
And when ’tis told, oh, that my heart would burst!   
The bloody proclamation to escape,   
That follow’d me so near,—oh, our lives’ sweetness!           208
That we the pain of death would hourly die   
Rather than die at once!—taught me to shift   
Into a madman’s rags, to assume a semblance   
That very dogs disdain’d; and in this habit           212
Met I my father with his bleeding rings,   
Their precious stones new lost; became his guide,   
Led him, begg’d for him, sav’d him from despair;   
Never,—O fault!—reveal’d myself unto him,           216
Until some half-hour past, when I was arm’d.   
Not sure, though hoping, of this good success,   
I ask’d his blessing, and from first to last   
Told him our pilgrimage; but his flaw’d 28-heart,           220
Alack, too weak the conflict to support!   
’Twixt two extremes of passion, joy and grief,   
Burst smilingly.   
  Edm.        This speech of yours hath mov’d me,           224
And shall perchance do good. But speak you on;   
You look as you had something more to say.   
  Alb.  If there be more, more woeful, hold it in;   
For I am almost ready to dissolve, 29           228
Hearing of this.   
  [Edg.        This would have seem’d a period   
To such as love not sorrow; but another,   
To amplify too much, would make much more,           232
And top extremity. 30   
Whilst I was big 31 in clamour came there in a man,   
Who, having seen me in my worst estate,   
Shunn’d my abhorr’d society; but then, finding           236
Who ’twas that so endur’d, with his strong arms   
He fastened on my neck, and bellowed out   
As he’d burst heaven; threw him on my father;   
Told the most piteous tale of Lear and him           240
That ever ear received; which in recounting,   
His grief grew puissant, and the strings of life   
Began to crack. Twice then the trumpets sounded,   
And there I left him tranc’d.           244
  Alb.        But who was this?   
  Edg.  Kent, sir, the banish’d Kent; who in disguise   
Follow’d his enemy king, and did him service   
Improper for a slave.]           248
 
Enter a Gentleman with a bloody knife

  Gent.  Help, help, O, help?   
  Edg.        What kind of help?   
  Alb.        Speak, man.   
  Edg.  What means this bloody knife?           252
  Gent.        ’Tis hot, it smokes;   
It came even from the heart of—O, she’s dead!   
  Alb.  Who dead? Speak, man.   
  Gent.  Your lady, sir, your lady; and her sister           256
By her is poison’d; she confesses it.   
  Edm.  I was contracted to them both. All three   
Now marry in an instant.   
  Edg.        Here comes Kent.           260
 
Enter KENT

  Alb.  Produce the bodies, be they alive or dead.   
This judgement of the heavens, that makes us tremble,   
Touches us not with pity.  [ExitGentleman.]   
            —O, is this he?           264
The time will not allow the compliment   
Which very manners urges.   
  Kent.        I am come   
To bid my king and master aye good-night.           268
Is he not here?   
  Alb.        Great thing of us forgot!   
Speak, Edmund, where’s the King? and where’s Cordelia?  The bodies of GONERIL andREGAN are brought in.   
See’st thou this object, 32 Kent?           272
  Kent.  Alack, why thus?   
  Edm.        Yet Edmund was belov’d!   
The one the other poison’d for my sake,   
And after slew herself.           276
  Alb.  Even so. Cover their faces.   
  Edm.  I pant for life. Some good I mean to do,   
Despite of mine own nature. Quickly send,   
Be brief in it, to the castle; for my writ           280
Is on the life of Lear and on Cordelia.   
Nay, send in time.   
  Alb.        Run, run, O, run!   
  Edg.  To who, my lord? Who has the office? Send           284
Thy token of reprieve.   
  Edm.  Well thought on. Take my sword,   
Give it the captain.   
  Edg.        Haste thee, for thy life.  [Exit Gentleman.]           288
  Edm.  He hath commission from thy wife and me   
To hang Cordelia in the prison, and   
To lay the blame upon her own despair,   
That she fordid 33 herself.           292
  Alb.  The gods defend her! Bear him hence a while.  [EDMUND is borne off.]   
 
Re-enter LEAR, with CORDELIA in his arms; [Gentleman following]

  Lear.  Howl, howl, howl! O, you are men of stones!   
Had I your tongues and eyes, I’d use them so   
That heaven’s vault should crack. She’s gone for ever!           296
I know when one is dead, and when one lives;   
She’s dead as earth. Lend me a looking-glass;   
If that her breath will mist or stain the stone,   
Why, then she lives.           300
  Kent.        Is this the promis’d end?   
  Edg.  Or image of that horror? 34   
  Alb.        Fall, and cease!   
  Lear.  This feather stirs; she lives! If it be so,           304
It is a chance which does redeem all sorrows   
That ever I have felt.   
  Kent.  [Kneeling.]  O my good master!   
  Lear.  Prithee, away.           308
  Edg.        ’Tis noble Kent, your friend.   
  Lear.  A plague upon you, murderers, traitors all!   
I might have sav’d her; now she’s gone for ever!   
Cordelia, Cordelia! stay a little. Ha!           312
What is ’t thou say’st? Her voice was ever soft,   
Gentle, and low; an excellent thing in woman.   
I kill’d the slave that was a-hanging thee.   
  Gent.  ’Tis true, my lords, he did.           316
  Lear.        Did I not, fellow?   
I have seen the day, with my good biting falchion   
I would have made him skip. I am old now,   
And these same crosses spoil me. Who are you?           320
Mine eyes are not o’ the best. I’ll tell you straight.   
  Kent.  If Fortune brag of two she lov’d and hated,   
One of them we behold.   
  Lear.  This is a dull sight. Are you not Kent?           324
  Kent.        The same,   
Your servant Kent. Where is your servant Caius?   
  Lear.  He’s a good fellow, I can tell you that;   
He’ll strike, and quickly too. He’s dead and rotten.           328
  Kent.  No, my good lord; I am the very man,—   
  Lear.  I’ll see that straight.   
  Kent.  That, from your first of difference and decay,   
Have follow’d your sad steps.           332
  Lear.        You are welcome hither.   
  Kent.  Nor no man else; all’s cheerless, dark, and deadly.   
Your eldest daughters have fordone themselves,   
And desperately are dead.           336
  Lear.        Ay, so I think.   
  Alb.  He knows not what he says; and vain is it   
That we present us to him.   
 
Enter a Messenger

  Edg.        Very bootless.           340
  Mess.  Edmund is dead, my lord.   
  Alb.        That’s but a trifle here.   
You lords and noble friends, know our intent.   
What comfort to this great decay 35 may come           344
Shall be appli’d. For us, we will resign,   
During the life of this old majesty,   
To him our absolute power; [to EDGAR and KENT] you, to your rights,   
With boot, 36 and such addition as your honours           348
Have more than merited. All friends shall taste   
The wages of their virtue, and all foes   
The cup of their deservings. O, see, see!   
  Lear.  And my poor fool is hang’d! No, no, no life!           352
Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life,   
And thou no breath at all? Thou’lt come no more,   
Never, never, never, never, never!   
Pray you, undo this button. Thank you, sir.           356
Do you see this? Look on her, look, her lips,   
Look there, look there!  Dies.   
  Edg.        He faints! My lord, my lord!   
  Kent.  Break, heart; I prithee, break!           360
  Edg.        Look up, my lord.   
  Kent.  Vex not his ghost; O, let him pass! He hates him   
That would upon the rack of this tough world   
Stretch him out longer.           364
  Edg.        He is gone, indeed.   
  Kent.  The wonder is he hath endur’d so long;   
He but usurp’d his life.   
  Alb.  Bear them from hence. Our present business           368
Is general woe. [To KENT and EDGAR.] Friends of my soul, you twain   
Rule in this realm, and the gor’d 37 state sustain.   
  Kent.  I have a journey, sir, shortly to go.   
My master calls me; I must not say no.           372
  Edg.  The weight of this sad time we must obey;   
Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say.   
The oldest hath borne most; we that are young   
Shall never see so much, nor live so long.  Exeunt, with a dead march.           376
 
Note 1. Judge. [back]
Note 2. Factions and parties. [back]
Note 3. As foxes are driven from their holes, by lighting a fire in them. [back]
Note 4. Devils, plagues. [back]
Note 5. Discussion. [back]
Note 6. Consider your prosperity assured. [back]
Note 7. Stock. [back]
Note 8. Opponents. [back]
Note 9. Confinement. [back]
Note 10. Close connection. [back]
Note 11. Praises. [back]
Note 12. Equals. [back]
Note 13. Passionate language. [back]
Note 14. Usually interpreted, hindering. [back]
Note 15. Play. [back]
Note 16. Your unaided strength. [back]
Note 17. Trumpeter. [back]
Note 18. Worm-eaten. [back]
Note 19. Encounter. [back]
Note 20. In spite of. [back]
Note 21. Brand-new. [back]
Note 22. Courage. [back]
Note 23. Lowest part. [back]
Note 24. Taste. [back]
Note 25. Treachery. [back]
Note 26. Opponent. [back]
Note 27. Cheated. [back]
Note 28. Cracked. [back]
Note 29. Melt in tears. [back]
Note 30. Surpass everything. [back]
Note 31. Loud. [back]
Note 32. Sight. [back]
Note 33. Destroyed. [back]
Note 34. “Is this the state of things foretold as the end of the world? Edg. Or only something resembling that fearful day?”—This is the usual interpretation. [back]
Note 35. General disaster (?). Lear (?). [back]
Note 36. Something thrown in to the bargain. [back]
Note 37. Wounded. [back]