The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works

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The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works Page 379

by William Shakespeare


  Then kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill!

  Enter ⌈two ⌉Gentlemen

  ⌈FIRST⌉GENTLEMAN

  O, here he is. Lay hand upon him. ⌈To Lear⌉Sir,

  Your most dear daughter—

  LEAR

  No rescue? What, a prisoner? I am even

  The natural fool of fortune. Use me well.

  You shall have ransom. Let me have surgeons;

  I am cut to th’ brains.

  ⌈FIRST⌉GENTLEMAN You shall have anything.

  LEAR No seconds? All myself?

  Why, this would make a man a man of salt,

  To use his eyes for garden water-pots.

  I will die bravely, like a smug bridegroom. What,

  I will be jovial. Come, come, I am a king.

  Masters, know you that?

  ⌈FIRST⌉GENTLEMAN

  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 ⌈pursued by a Gentleman⌉

  ⌈FIRST⌉GENTLEMAN

  A sight most pitiful in the meanest wretch,

  Past speaking in a king. Thou hast a daughter

  Who redeems nature from the general curse

  Which twain have brought her to.

  EDGAR Hail, gentle sir.

  ⌈FIRST⌉GENTLEMAN Sir, speed you. What’s your will?

  EDGAR

  Do you hear aught, sir, of a battle toward?

  ⌈FIRST⌉+GENTLEMAN

  Most sure and vulgar, everyone hears that

  That can distinguish sound.

  EDGAR But, by your favour,

  How near’s the other army?

  ⌈FIRST⌉ GENTLEMAN,

  Near and on speedy foot. The main descry

  Stands in the hourly thought.

  EDGAR

  I thank you, sir. That’s all.

  ⌈FIRST⌉GENTLEMAN

  Though that the Queen on special cause is here,

  Her army is moved on.

  EDGAR

  I thank you, sir. Exit Gentleman

  GLOUCESTER

  You ever gentle gods, take my breath from me.

  Let not my worser spirit tempt me again

  To die before you please.

  EDGAR Well pray you, father.

  GLOUCESTER Now, good sir, what are you?

  EDGAR

  A most poor man, made tame to fortune’s blows,

  Who by the art of known and feeling sorrows

  Am pregnant to good pity. Give me your hand,

  I’ll lead you to some biding.

  GLOUCESTER ⌈rising⌉

  Hearty thanks.

  The bounty and the benison of heaven

  To boot and boot.

  Enter Oswald the steward

  OSWALD

  A proclaimed prize! Most happy!

  That eyeless head of thine was first framed flesh

  To raise my fortunes. Thou old unhappy traitor,

  Briefly thyself remember. The sword is out

  That must destroy thee.

  GLOUCESTER

  Now let thy friendly hand

  Put strength enough to’t.

  OSWALD (to Edgar)

  Wherefore, bold peasant,

  Durst thou support a published traitor? Hence,

  Lest that th’infection of his fortune take

  Like hold on thee. Let go his arm.

  EDGAR ‘Chill not let go, sir, without vurther ’cagion.

  OSWALD Let go, slave, or thou diest.

  EDGAR Good gentleman, go your gate, and let poor volk pass. An ‘chud ha’ been swaggered out of my life, ’twould not ha’ been so long as ‘tis by a vortnight. Nay, come not near th’old man. Keep out, ‘che vor’ ye, or I’s’ try whether your costard or my baton be the harder; I’ll be plain with you.

  OSWALD Out, dunghill!

  EDGAR ’Chill pick your teeth, sir. Come, no matter vor your foins.

  ⌈Edgar knocks him down⌉

  OSWALD

  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 Edmond, Earl of Gloucester. Seek him out

  Upon the English party. O untimely death! Death!

  He dies

  EDGAR

  I know thee well—a serviceable villain,

  As duteous to the vices of thy mistress

  As badness would desire.

  GLOUCESTER What, is he dead?

  EDGAR Sit you down, father. Rest you.

  Gloucester sits

  Let’s see these pockets. The letters that he speaks of

  May be my friends. He’s dead; I am only sorrow

  He had no other deathsman. Let us see.

  Leave, gentle wax, and manners; blame us not.

  To know our enemies’ minds we rip their hearts;

  Their papers is more lawful.

  He reads the letter

  ’Let our reciprocal vows be remembered. You have

  many opportunities to cut him off. If your will want

  not, time and place will be fruitfully offered. There is

  nothing done if he return the conqueror; then am I

  the prisoner, and his bed my jail, from the loathed

  warmth whereof, deliver me, and supply the place for

  your labour.

  Your—wife, so I would say,—affectionate

  servant, and for you her own for venture,

  Goneril.’

  O indistinguished space of woman’s will—

  A plot upon her virtuous husband’s life,

  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

  Of the death-practised Duke. For him ’tis well

  That of thy death and business I can tell.

  ⌈Exit with the body⌉

  GLOUCESTER

  The King is mad. How stiff is my vile sense,

  That I stand up and have ingenious feeling

  Of my huge sorrows! Better I were distraught,

  So should my thoughts be severed from my griefs, Drum afar off

  And woes by wrong imaginations lose

  The knowledge of themselves.

  ⌈Enter Edgar⌉

  EDGAR

  Give me your hand.

  Far off methinks I hear the beaten drum.

  Come, father, I’ll bestow you with a friend.

  Exit Edgar guiding Gloucester

  4.6 Enter Queen Cordelia, the Earl of Kent disguised, and ⌈the First⌉ Gentleman

  CORDELIA

  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 acknowledged, madam, is o’erpaid.

  All my reports go with the modest truth,

  Nor more, nor clipped, but so.

  CORDELIA

  Be better suited.

  These weeds are memories of those worser hours.

  I prithee put them off.

  KENT Pardon, dear madam.

  Yet to be known shortens my made intent.

  My boon I make it that you know me not

  Till time and I think meet.

  CORDELIA

  Then be’t so, my good lord.—

  How does the King?

  ⌈FIRST⌉GENTLEMAN Madam, sleeps still.

  CORDELIA

  O you kind gods,

  Cure this great breach in his abused nature;

  Th’untuned and jarring senses O wind up

  Of this child-changed father!

  ⌈FIRST⌉GENTLEMAN

  So please your majesty

  That we may wake the King? He hath slept long.

  CORDELIA


  Be governed by your knowledge, and proceed

  I’th’ sway of your own will. Is he arrayed?

  ⌈FIRST⌉GENTLEMAN

  Ay, madam. In the heaviness of sleep

  We put fresh garments on him.

  Enter King Lear asleep, in a chair carried by servants

  Be by, good madam, when we do awake him.

  I doubt not of his temperance.

  CORDELIA

  O my dear father, restoration hang

  Thy medicine on my lips, and let this kiss

  Repair those violent harms that my two sisters

  Have in thy reverence made!

  KENT

  Kind and dear princess!

  CORDELIA

  Had you not been their father, these white flakes

  Did challenge pity of them. Was this a face

  To be opposed against the warring winds?

  Mine enemy’s dog, though he had bit me, should

  have stood

  That night against my fire. And wast thou fain, poor

  father,

  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! (To the Gentleman) He wakes.

  Speak to him.

  ⌈FIRST⌉GENTLEMAN Madam, do you; ’tis fittest.

  CORDELIA (to Lear)

  How does my royal lord? How fares your majesty?

  LEAR

  You do me wrong to take me out o’th’ grave.

  Thou art a soul in bliss, but I am bound

  Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears

  Do scald like molten lead.

  CORDELIA

  Sir, do you know me?

  LEAR

  You are a spirit, I know. Where did you die?

  CORDELIA (to the Gentleman) Still, still far wide!

  ⌈FIRST GENTLEMAN

  He’s scarce awake. Let him alone a while.

  LEAR

  Where have I been? Where am I? Fair daylight?

  I am mightily abused. I should ev’n die with pity

  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 assured

  Of my condition.

  CORDELIA (kneeling) O look upon me, sir,

  And hold your hands in benediction o’er me.

  You must not kneel.

  LEAR

  Pray do not mock.

  I am a very foolish, fond old man,

  Fourscore and upward,

  Not an hour more nor less; and to deal plainly,

  I fear I am not in my perfect mind.

  Methinks I should know you, and know this man;

  Yet I am doubtful, for I am mainly ignorant

  What place this is; and all the skill I have

  Remembers not these garments; nor I know not

  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.

  CORDELIA

  And so I am, I am.

  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.

  You have some cause; they have not.

  CORDELIA

  No cause, no cause.

  LEAR Am I in France?

  KENT In your own kingdom, sir.

  LEAR Do not abuse me.

  ⌈FIRST⌉GENTLEMAN

  Be comforted, good madam. The great rage

  You see is killed in him. Desire him to go in.

  Trouble him no more till further settling.

  CORDELIA (to Lear) Will’t please your highness walk?

  LEAR

  You must bear with me. Pray you now, forget

  And forgive. I am old and foolish.

  Exeunt

  5.1 Enter with a drummer and colours Edmond, Regan, Gentlemen, and soldiers

  EDMOND

  Know of the Duke if his last purpose hold,

  Or whether since he is advised by aught

  To change the course. He’s full of abdication

  And self-reproving. Bring his constant pleasure.

  Exit one or more

  REGAN

  Our sister’s man is certainly miscarried.

  EDMOND

  ’Tis to be doubted, madam.

  REGAN

  Now, sweet lord,

  You know the goodness I intend upon you.

  Tell me but truly—but then speak the truth-

  Do you not love my sister?

  EDMOND

  In honoured love.

  REGAN

  But have you never found my brother’s way

  To the forfended place?

  EDMOND

  No, by mine honour, madam.

  REGAN

  I never shall endure her. Dear my lord,

  Be not familiar with her.

  EDMOND Fear me not.

  She and the Duke her husband—

  Enter with a drummer and colours the Duke of Albany, Goneril, and soldiers

  ALBANY (to Regan)

  Our very loving sister, well bemet.

  (To Edmond) Sir, this I heard: the King is come to his

  daughter,

  With others whom the rigour of our state

  Forced to cry out.

  REGAN

  Why is this reasoned?

  GONERIL

  Combine together ’gainst the enemy;

  For these domestic and particular broils

  Are not the question here.

  ALBANY

  Let’s then determine with th’ensign of war

  On our proceeding.

  REGAN

  Sister, you’ll go with us?

  GONERIL No.

  REGAN

  ’Tis most convenient. Pray go with us.

  GONERIL (aside)

  O ho, I know the riddle! (To Regan) I will go.

  Enter Edgar disguised as a peasant

  EDGAR (to Albany)

  If e’er your grace had speech with man so poor,

  Hear me one word.

  ALBANY (to the others) I’ll overtake you.

  Exeunt both the armies

  Speak.

  EDGAR

  Before you fight the battle, ope this letter.

  If you have victory, let the trumpet sound

  For him that brought it. Wretched though I seem,

  I can produce a champion that will prove

  What is avouchèd there. If you miscarry,

  Your business of the world hath so an end,

  And machination ceases. Fortune love you.

  ALBANY

  Stay till I have read the letter.

  EDGAR

  I was forbid it.

  When time shall serve, let but the herald cry,

  And I’ll appear again.

  ALBANY Why, fare thee well.

  I will o’erlook thy paper.

  Exit Edgar

  Enter Edmond

  EDMOND

  The enemy’s in view; draw up your powers.

  He ⌈offers⌉Albany a paper

  Here is the guess of their true strength and forces

  By diligent discovery; but your haste

  Is now urged on you.

  ALBANY

  We will greet the time.

  Exit

  EDMOND

  To both these sisters have I sworn my love,

  Each jealous of the other as the stung

  Are of the adder. Which of them shall I take?—

  Both?—one?—or neither? Neither can be enjoyed

  If both remain alive. To take the widow

  Exasperates, makes mad, her sister Goneril,

  And hardly shall I carry out my side,

&n
bsp; Her husband being alive. Now then, we’ll use

  His countenance for the battle, which being done,

  Let her who would be rid of him devise

  His speedy taking off. As for the mercy

  Which he intends to Lear and to Cordelia,

  The battle done, and they within our power,

  Shall never see his pardon; for my state

  Stands on me to defend, not to debate.

  Exit

  5.2 Alarum within. Enter with a drummer and colours King Lear, Queen Cordelia, and soldiers over the stage; and exeunt. Enter Edgar disguised as a peasant, guiding the blind Duke of Gloucester

  EDGAR

  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.

  GLOUCESTER

  Grace go with you, sir.

  Exit Edgar

  Alarum and retreat within. Enter Edgar

  EDGAR

  Away, old man. Give me thy hand. Away.

  King Lear hath lost, he and his daughter ta’en.

  Give me thy hand. Come on.

  GLOUCESTER

  No further, sir. A man may rot even here.

  EDGAR

  What, in ill thoughts again? Men must endure

  Their going hence even as their coming hither.

  Ripeness is all. Come on.

  GLOUCESTER

  And that’s true, too.

  Exit Edgar guiding Gloucester

  5.3 Enter in conquest with a drummer and colours Edmond; King Lear and Queen Cordelia as prisoners; soldiers; a Captain

  EDMOND

  Some officers take them away. Good guard

  Until their greater pleasures first be known

  That are to censure them.

  CORDELIA (to Lear)

  We are not the first

  Who with best meaning have incurred the worst.

  For thee, oppressed King, I am cast down,

  Myself could else outfrown false fortune’s frown.

  Shall we not see these daughters and these sisters?

  LEAR

  No, no, no, no. Come, let’s away to prison.

  We two alone will sing like birds i’th’ cage.

  When thou dost ask me blessing, I’ll kneel down

  And ask of thee forgiveness; so we’ll live,

  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—

 

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