The man that makes his toe
What he his heart should make
Shall have a corn cry woe,
And turn his sleep to wake—
for there was never yet fair woman but she made mouths in a glass.
LEAR
No, I will be the pattern of all patience.
⌈He sits.⌉ Enter the Earl of Kent disguised
I will say nothing.
KENT Who’s there?
FOOL Marry, here’s grace and a codpiece—that’s a wise man and a fool.
KENT (to Lear)
Alas, sir, sit you here? Things that love night
Love not such nights as these. The wrathful skies
Gallow the very wanderers of the dark
And makes them keep their caves. Since I was man
Such sheets of fire, such bursts of horrid thunder,
Such groans of roaring wind and rain I ne’er
Remember to have heard. Man’s nature cannot carry
The affliction nor the force.
LEAR Let the great gods,
That keep this dreadful pother o’er our heads,
Find out their enemies now. Tremble, thou wretch
That hast within thee undivulgèd crimes
Unwhipped of justice; hide thee, thou bloody hand,
Thou perjured and thou simular man of virtue
That art incestuous; caitiff, in pieces shake,
That under covert and convenient seeming
Hast practised on man’s life;
Close pent-up guilts, rive your concealed centres
And cry these dreadful summoners grace.
I am a man more sinned against than sinning.
KENT Alack, bare-headed?
Gracious my lord, hard by here is a hovel.
Some friendship will it lend you ‘gainst the tempest.
Repose you there whilst I to this hard house-
More hard than is the stone whereof ’tis raised,
Which even but now, demanding after you,
Denied me to come in—return and force
Their scanted courtesy.
LEAR My wit begins to turn.
(To Fool) Come on, my boy. How dost, my boy? Art
cold?
I am cold myself.—Where is this straw, my fellow?
The art of our necessities is strange,
That can make vile things precious. Come, your
hovel.—
Poor fool and knave, I have one part of my heart
That sorrows yet for thee.
FOOL ⌈sings⌉
He that has a little tiny wit,
With heigh-ho, the wind and the rain,
Must make content with his fortunes fit,
For the rain it raineth every day.
LEAR
True, my good boy. (To Kent) Come, bring us to this hovel. Exeunt
Sc. 10 Enter the Duke of Gloucester and Edmund the bastard, with lights
GLOUCESTER
Alack, alack, Edmund, I like not this
Unnatural dealing. When I desired their leave
That I might pity him, they took from me
The use of mine own house, charged me on pain
Of their displeasure neither to speak of him,
Entreat for him, nor any way sustain him.
EDMUND Most savage and unnatural!
GLOUCESTER Go to, say you nothing. There’s a division betwixt the Dukes, and a worse matter than that. I have received a letter this night—‘tis dangerous to be spoken—I have locked the letter in my closet. These injuries the King now bears will be revenged home. There’s part of a power already landed. We must incline to the King. I will seek him and privily relieve him. Go you and maintain talk with the Duke, that my charity be not of him perceived. If he ask for me, I am ill and gone to bed. Though I die for’t—as no less is threatened me—the King my old master must be relieved. There is some strange thing toward. Edmund, pray you be careful. Exit
EDMUND
This courtesy, forbid thee, shall the Duke
Instantly know, and of that letter too.
This seems a fair deserving, and must draw me
That which my father loses: no less than all.
The younger rises when the old do fall. Exit
Sc. 11 Storm. Enter King Lear, the Earl of Kent disguised, and Lear’s Fool
KENT
Here is the place, my lord. Good my lord, enter.
The tyranny of the open night’s too rough
For nature to endure.
LEAR Let me alone.
KENT
Good my lord, enter here.
LEAR Wilt break my heart?
KENT
I had rather break mine own. Good my lord, enter.
LEAR
Thou think‘st ’tis much that this contentious storm
Invades us to the skin. So ‘tis to thee;
But where the greater malady is fixed,
The lesser is scarce felt. Thou’dst shun a bear,
But if thy flight lay toward the roaring sea
Thou‘dst meet the bear i’th’ mouth. When the mind’s
free,
The body’s delicate. This tempest in my mind
Doth from my senses take all feeling else
Save what beats there: filial ingratitude.
Is it not as this mouth should tear this hand
For lifting food to’t? But I will punish sure.
No, I will weep no more.—
In such a night as this! O Regan, Gonoril,
Your old kind father, whose frank heart gave you all—
O, that way madness lies. Let me shun that.
No more of that.
KENT Good my lord, enter.
LEAR
Prithee, go in thyself. Seek thy own ease.
This tempest will not give me leave to ponder
On things would hurt me more; but I’ll go in.
⌈Exit Fool⌉
Poor naked wretches, wheresoe‘er you are,
That bide the pelting of this pitiless night,
How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides,
Your looped and windowed raggedness, defend you
From seasons such as these? O, I have ta’en
Too little care of this. Take physic, pomp,
Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel,
That thou mayst shake the superflux to them
And show the heavens more just.
Enter Lear’s Fool
FOOL Come not in here, nuncle; here’s a spirit. Help me, help me!
KENT Give me thy hand. Who’s there?
FOOL A spirit. He says his name’s Poor Tom.
KENT
What art thou that dost grumble there in the straw?
Come forth.
⌈Enter Edgar as a Bedlam beggar⌉
EDGAR Away, the foul fiend follows me. Through the sharp hawthorn blows the cold wind. Go to thy cold bed and warm thee.
LEAR
Hast thou given all to thy two daughters,
And art thou come to this?
EDGAR Who gives anything to Poor Tom, whom the foul fiend hath led through fire and through ford and whirlypool, o’er bog and quagmire; that has laid knives under his pillow and halters in his pew, set ratsbane by his potage, made him proud of heart to ride on a bay trotting-horse over four-inched bridges, to course his own shadow for a traitor. Bless thy five wits, Tom’s a-cold! Bless thee from whirlwinds, star-blasting, and taking. Do Poor Tom some charity, whom the foul fiend vexes. There could I have him, now, and there, and there again.
LEAR
What, has his daughters brought him to this pass?
(To Edgar) Couldst thou save nothing? Didst thou give
them all?
FOOL Nay, he reserved a blanket, else we had been all shamed.
LEAR (to Edgar)
Now all the plagues that in the pendulous air
Hang fated o’er men’s faults fall on thy daughters!
&nb
sp; KENT He hath no daughters, sir.
LEAR
Death, traitor! Nothing could have subdued nature
To such a lowness but his unkind daughters.
(To Edgar) Is it the fashion that discarded fathers
Should have thus little mercy on their flesh?
Judicious punishment: ’twas this flesh begot
Those pelican daughters.
EDGAR Pillicock sat on pillicock’s hill; a lo, lo, lo.
FOOL This cold night will turn us all to fools and madmen.
EDGAR Take heed o’th’ foul fiend; obey thy parents; keep thy word justly; swear not; commit not with man’s sworn spouse: set not thy sweet heart on proud array. Tom’s a-cold.
LEAR What hast thou been?
EDGAR A servingman, proud in heart and mind, that curled my hair, wore gloves in my cap, served the lust of my mistress’ heart, and did the act of darkness with her; swore as many oaths as I spake words, and broke them in the sweet face of heaven; one that slept in the contriving of lust, and waked to do it. Wine loved I deeply, dice dearly, and in woman out-paramoured the Turk. False of heart, light of ear, bloody of hand; hog in sloth, fox in stealth, wolf in greediness, dog in madness, lion in prey. Let not the creaking of shoes nor the rustlings of silks betray thy poor heart to women. Keep thy foot out of brothel, thy hand out of placket, thy pen from lender’s book, and defy the foul fiend. Still through the hawthorn blows the cold wind. Heigh no nonny. Dolphin, my boy, my boy! Cease, let him trot by.
LEAR Why, thou wert better in thy grave than to answer with thy uncovered body this extremity of the skies. Is man no more but this? Consider him well. Thou owest the worm no silk, the beast no hide, the sheep no wool, the cat no perfume. Here’s three on ’s are sophisticated; thou art the thing itself. Unaccommodated man is no more but such a poor, bare, forked animal as thou art. Off, off, you lendings! Come on, be true.
FOOL Prithee, nuncle, be content. This is a naughty night to swim in. Now a little fire in a wild field were like an old lecher’s heart—a small spark, all the rest on ’s body cold. Look, here comes a walking fire.
Enter the Duke of Gloucester with a ⌈torch⌉
EDGAR This is the foul fiend Flibbertigibbet. He begins at curfew and walks till the first cock. He gives the web and the pin, squinies the eye, and makes the harelip; mildews the white wheat, and hurts the poor creature of earth.
⌈Sings⌉Swithin footed thrice the wold,
A met the night mare and her nine foal;
Bid her alight
And her troth plight,
And aroint thee, witch, aroint thee!
KENT (to Lear)
How fares your grace?
LEAR What’s he?
KENT (to Gloucester) Who’s there? What is’t you seek?
GLOUCESTER What are you there? Your names?
EDGAR Poor Tom, that eats the swimming frog, the toad, the tadpole, the wall-newt and the water; that in the fury of his heart, when the foul fiend rages, eats cowdung for salads, swallows the old rat and the ditch-dog, drinks the green mantle of the standing pool; who is whipped from tithing to tithing, and stock-punished, and imprisoned; who hath had three suits to his back, six shirts to his body,
Horse to ride, and weapon to wear.
But mice and rats and such small deer
Hath been Tom’s food for seven long year-
Beware my follower. Peace, Smolking; peace, thou
fiend!
GLOUCESTER (to Lear)
What, hath your grace no better company?
EDGAR
The Prince of Darkness is a gentleman;
Modo he’s called, and Mahu—
GLOUCESTER (to Lear)
Our flesh and blood is grown so vile, my lord,
That it doth hate what gets it.
EDGAR Poor Tom’s a-cold.
GLOUCESTER (to Lear)
Go in with me. My duty cannot suffer
To obey in all your daughters’ hard commands.
Though their injunction be to bar my doors
And let this tyrannous night take hold upon you,
Yet have I ventured to come seek you out
And bring you where both food and fire is ready.
LEAR
First let me talk with this philosopher.
(To Edgar) What is the cause of thunder?
KENT My good lord,
Take his offer; go into the house.
LEAR
I’ll talk a word with this most learnèd Theban.
(To Edgar) What is your study?
EDGAR
How to prevent the fiend, and to kill vermin.
LEAR
Let me ask you one word in private.
They converse apart
KENT (to Gloucester)
Importune him to go, my lord.
His wits begin to unsettle.
GLOUCESTER Canst thou blame him?
His daughters seek his death. O, that good Kent,
He said it would be thus, poor banished man!
Thou sayst the King grows mad; I’ll tell thee, friend,
I am almost mad myself. I had a son,
Now outlawed from my blood; a sought my life
But lately, very late. I loved him, friend;
No father his son dearer. True to tell thee,
The grief hath crazed my wits. What a night’s this!
(To Lear) I do beseech your grace—
LEAR O, cry you mercy.
(To Edgar) Noble philosopher, your company.
EDGAR Tom’s a-cold.
GLOUCESTER
In, fellow, there in t’hovel; keep thee warm.
LEAR
Come, let’s in all.
KENT This way, my lord.
LEAR With him!
I will keep still with my philosopher.
KENT (to Gloucester)
Good my lord, soothe him; let him take the fellow.
GLOUCESTER Take him you on.
KENT ⌈to Edgar⌉
Sirrah, come on. Go along with us.
LEAR (to Edgar)
Come, good Athenian.
GLOUCESTER No words, no words. Hush.
EDGAR Child Roland to the dark tower come, His word was still ‘Fie, fo, and fum; I smell the blood of a British man.’
Exeunt
Sc. 12 Enter the Duke of Cornwall and Edmund the bastard
CORNWALL I will have my revenge ere I depart the house. EDMUND How, my lord, I may be censured, that nature thus gives way to loyalty, something fears me to think of.
CORNWALL I now perceive it was not altogether your brother’s evil disposition made him seek his death, but a provoking merit set a-work by a reprovable badness in himself.
EDMUND How malicious is my fortune, that I must repent to be just! This is the letter he spoke of, which approves him an intelligent party to the advantages of France. O heavens, that his treason were not, or not I the detector!
CORNWALL Go with me to the Duchess.
EDMUND If the matter of this paper be certain, you have mighty business in hand.
CORNWALL True or false, it hath made thee Earl of Gloucester. Seek out where thy father is, that he may be ready for our apprehension.
EDMUND ⌈aside⌉ If I find him comforting the King, it will stuff his suspicion more fully. (To Cornwall) I will persever in my course of loyalty, though the conflict be sore between that and my blood.
CORNWALL I will lay trust upon thee, and thou shalt find a dearer father in my love. Exeunt
Sc. 13 Enter the Duke of Gloucester and King Lear, the Earl of Kent disguised, Lear’s Fool, and Edgar as a Bedlam beggar
GLOUCESTER Here is better than the open air; take it thankfully. I will piece out the comfort with what addition I can. I will not be long from you.
KENT All the power of his wits have given way to impatience; the gods discern your kindness! ⌈Exit Gloucester⌉
EDGAR Frateretto calls me, and tells me Nero is an angler in the lake of darkness. Pray, innocent; bewa
re the foul fiend.
FOOL (to Lear) Prithee, nuncle, tell me whether a madman be a gentleman or a yeoman.
LEAR
A king, a king! To have a thousand With red burning spits come hissing in upon them!
EDGAR The foul fiend bites my back.
FOOL (to Lear) He’s mad that trusts in the tameness of a wolf, a horse’s health, a boy’s love, or a whore’s oath.
LEAR
It shall be done. I will arraign them straight.
⌈To Edgar⌉ Come, sit thou here, most learned justicer.
⌈To Fool⌉ Thou sapient sir, sit here.—No, you she-
foxes—
EDGAR Look where he stands and glares. Want’st thou eyes at troll-madam?
⌈Sings⌉ Come o’er the burn, Bessy, to me.
FOOL ⌈sings⌉
Her boat hath a leak,
And she must not speak
Why she dares not come over to thee.
EDGAR The foul fiend haunts Poor Tom in the voice of a nightingale. Hoppedance cries in Tom’s belly for two white herring. Croak not, black angel: I have no food for thee.
KENT (to Lear)
How do you, sir? Stand you not so amazed.
Will you lie down and rest upon the cushions?
LEAR
I’ll see their trial first. Bring in the evidence.
⌈To Edgar⌉ Thou robed man of justice, take thy place;
⌈To Fool⌉ And thou, his yokefellow of equity,
Bench by his side. ⌈To Kent⌉ You are o’th’
commission,
Sit you, too.
EDGAR Let us deal justly.
⌈Sings⌉
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 Gonoril. I here take my oath before this honourable assembly she kicked the poor King her father.
FOOL Come hither, mistress. Is your name Gonoril?
LEAR She cannot deny it.
FOOL Cry you mercy, I took you for a join-stool.
LEAR
And here’s another, whose warped looks proclaim
What store her heart is made on. Stop her there.
The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works Page 299
