Oh! Oh! Oh!
Enter Lodovico. Montano, Cassio carried in a chair, and Officers with Iago, prisoner
Lodovico
Where is this rash and most unfortunate man?
Othello
That’s he that was Othello: here I am.
Lodovico
Where is that viper? bring the villain forth.
Othello
I look down towards his feet; but that’s a fable.
If that thou best a devil, I cannot kill thee.
Wounds Iago
Lodovico
Wrench his sword from him.
Iago
I bleed, sir; but not kill’d.
Othello
I am not sorry neither: I’ld have thee live;
For, in my sense, ’tis happiness to die.
Lodovico
O thou Othello, thou wert once so good,
Fall’n in the practise of a damned slave,
What shall be said to thee?
Othello
Why, any thing:
An honourable murderer, if you will;
For nought I did in hate, but all in honour.
Lodovico
This wretch hath part confess’d his villany:
Did you and he consent in Cassio’s death?
Othello
Ay.
Cassio
Dear general, I never gave you cause.
Othello
I do believe it, and I ask your pardon.
Will you, I pray, demand that demi-devil
Why he hath thus ensnared my soul and body?
Iago
Demand me nothing: what you know, you know:
From this time forth I never will speak word.
Lodovico
What, not to pray?
Gratiano
Torments will ope your lips.
Othello
Well, thou dost best.
Lodovico
Sir, you shall understand what hath befall’n,
Which, as I think, you know not. Here is a letter
Found in the pocket of the slain Roderigo;
And here another: the one of them imports
The death of Cassio to be undertook
By Roderigo.
Othello
O villain!
Cassio
Most heathenish and most gross!
Lodovico
Now here’s another discontented paper,
Found in his pocket too; and this, it seems,
Roderigo meant to have sent this damned villain;
But that belike Iago in the interim
Came in and satisfied him.
Othello
O the pernicious caitiff!
How came you, Cassio, by that handkerchief
That was my wife’s?
Cassio
I found it in my chamber:
And he himself confess’d but even now
That there he dropp’d it for a special purpose
Which wrought to his desire.
Othello
O fool! fool! fool!
Cassio
There is besides in Roderigo’s letter,
How he upbraids Iago, that he made him
Brave me upon the watch; whereon it came
That I was cast: and even but now he spake,
After long seeming dead, Iago hurt him,
Iago set him on.
Lodovico
You must forsake this room, and go with us:
Your power and your command is taken off,
And Cassio rules in Cyprus. For this slave,
If there be any cunning cruelty
That can torment him much and hold him long,
It shall be his. You shall close prisoner rest,
Till that the nature of your fault be known
To the Venetian state. Come, bring him away.
Othello
Soft you; a word or two before you go.
I have done the state some service, and they know’t.
No more of that. I pray you, in your letters,
When you shall these unlucky deeds relate,
Speak of me as I am; nothing extenuate,
Nor set down aught in malice: then must you speak
Of one that loved not wisely but too well;
Of one not easily jealous, but being wrought
Perplex’d in the extreme; of one whose hand,
Like the base Indian, threw a pearl away
Richer than all his tribe; of one whose subdued eyes,
Albeit unused to the melting mood,
Drop tears as fast as the Arabian trees
Their medicinal gum. Set you down this;
And say besides, that in Aleppo once,
Where a malignant and a turban’d Turk
Beat a Venetian and traduced the state,
I took by the throat the circumcised dog,
And smote him, thus.
Stabs himself
Lodovico
O bloody period!
Gratiano
All that’s spoke is marr’d.
Othello
I kiss’d thee ere I kill’d thee: no way but this;
Killing myself, to die upon a kiss.
Falls on the bed, and dies
Cassio
This did I fear, but thought he had no weapon;
For he was great of heart.
Lodovico
[To Iago] O Spartan dog,
More fell than anguish, hunger, or the sea!
Look on the tragic loading of this bed;
This is thy work: the object poisons sight;
Let it be hid. Gratiano, keep the house,
And seize upon the fortunes of the Moor,
For they succeed on you. To you, lord governor,
Remains the censure of this hellish villain;
The time, the place, the torture: O, enforce it!
Myself will straight aboard: and to the state
This heavy act with heavy heart relate.
Exeunt
King Lear
TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHARACTERS OF THE PLAY
ACT I
SCENE I. KING LEAR’S PALACE.
SCENE II. THE EARL OF GLOUCESTER’S CASTLE.
SCENE III. THE DUKE OF ALBANY’S PALACE.
SCENE IV. A HALL IN THE SAME.
SCENE V. COURT BEFORE THE SAME.
ACT II
SCENE I. GLOUCESTER’S CASTLE.
SCENE II. BEFORE GLOUCESTER’S CASTLE.
SCENE III. A WOOD.
SCENE IV. BEFORE GLOUCESTER’S CASTLE. KENT IN THE STOCKS.
ACT III
SCENE I. A HEATH.
SCENE II. ANOTHER PART OF THE HEATH. STORM STILL.
SCENE III. GLOUCESTER’S CASTLE.
SCENE IV. THE HEATH. BEFORE A HOVEL.
SCENE V. GLOUCESTER’S CASTLE.
SCENE VI. A CHAMBER IN A FARMHOUSE ADJOINING THE CASTLE.
SCENE VII. GLOUCESTER’S CASTLE.
ACT IV
SCENE I. THE HEATH.
SCENE II. BEFORE ALBANY’S PALACE.
SCENE III. THE FRENCH CAMP NEAR DOVER.
SCENE IV. THE SAME. A TENT.
SCENE V. GLOUCESTER’S CASTLE.
SCENE VI. FIELDS NEAR DOVER.
SCENE VII. A TENT IN THE FRENCH CAMP. LEAR ON A BED ASLEEP,
ACT V
SCENE I. THE BRITISH CAMP, NEAR DOVER.
SCENE II. A FIELD BETWEEN THE TWO CAMPS.
SCENE III. THE BRITISH CAMP NEAR DOVER.
CHARACTERS OF THE PLAY
Lear, King of Britain.
King Of France.
Duke of Burgundy.
Duke of Cornwall.
Duke of Albany.
Earl of Kent.
Earl of Gloucester.
Edgar, son of Gloucester.
Edmund, bastard son to Gloucester.
Curan, a courtier.
An Old Man, tenant to Gloucester.
A Doctor.
&nbs
p; Lear's Fool.
Oswald, steward to Goneril.
A Captain under Edmund's command.
Gentlemen.
A Herald.
Servants to Cornwall.
Goneril, daughter to Lear.
Regan, daughter to Lear.
Cordelia, daughter to Lear.
Knights attending on Lear, Officers, Messengers, Soldiers, Attendants.
Scene: Britain.
ACT I
SCENE I. KING LEAR’S PALACE.
Enter Kent, Gloucester, and Edmund
Kent
I thought the king had more affected the Duke of
Albany than Cornwall.
Gloucester
It did always seem so to us: but now, in the division of the kingdom, it appears not which of the dukes he values most; for equalities are so weighed, that curiosity in neither can make choice of either’s moiety.
Kent
Is not this your son, my lord?
Gloucester
His breeding, sir, hath been at my charge: I have so often blushed to acknowledge him, that now I am brazed to it.
Kent
I cannot conceive you.
Gloucester
Sir, this young fellow’s mother could: whereupon she grew round-wombed, and had, indeed, sir, a son for her cradle ere she had a husband for her bed. Do you smell a fault?
Kent
I cannot wish the fault undone, the issue of it being so proper.
Gloucester
But I have, sir, a son by order of law, some year elder than this, who yet is no dearer in my account: though this knave came something saucily into the world before he was sent for, yet was his mother fair; there was good sport at his making, and the whoreson must be acknowledged. Do you know this noble gentleman, Edmund?
Edmund
No, my lord.
Gloucester
My lord of Kent: remember him hereafter as my honourable friend.
Edmund
My services to your lordship.
Kent
I must love you, and sue to know you better.
Edmund
Sir, I shall study deserving.
Gloucester
He hath been out nine years, and away he shall again. The king is coming.
Sennet. Enter King Lear, Cornwall, Albany, Goneril, Regan, Cordelia, and Attendants
King Lear
Attend the lords of France and Burgundy, Gloucester.
Gloucester
I shall, my liege.
Exeunt Gloucester and Edmund
King Lear
Meantime we shall express our darker purpose.
Give me the map there. Know that we have divided
In three our kingdom: and ’tis our fast intent
To shake all cares and business from our age;
Conferring them on younger strengths, while we
Unburthen’d crawl toward death. Our son of Cornwall,
And you, our no less loving son of Albany,
We have this hour a constant will to publish
Our daughters’ several dowers, that future strife
May be prevented now. The princes, France and Burgundy,
Great rivals in our youngest daughter’s love,
Long in our court have made their amorous sojourn,
And here are to be answer’d. Tell me, my daughters,—
Since now we will divest us both of rule,
Interest of territory, cares of state,—
Which of you shall we say doth love us most?
That we our largest bounty may extend
Where nature doth with merit challenge. Goneril,
Our eldest-born, speak first.
Goneril
Sir, I love you more than words can wield the matter;
Dearer than eye-sight, space, and liberty;
Beyond what can be valued, rich or rare;
No less than life, with grace, health, beauty, honour;
As much as child e’er loved, or father found;
A love that makes breath poor, and speech unable;
Beyond all manner of so much I love you.
Cordelia
[Aside] What shall Cordelia do?
Love, and be silent.
Lear
Of all these bounds, even from this line to this,
With shadowy forests and with champains rich’d,
With plenteous rivers and wide-skirted meads,
We make thee lady: to thine and Albany’s issue
Be this perpetual. What says our second daughter,
Our dearest Regan, wife to Cornwall? Speak.
Regan
Sir, I am made
Of the self-same metal that my sister is,
And prize me at her worth. In my true heart
I find she names my very deed of love;
Only she comes too short: that I profess
Myself an enemy to all other joys,
Which the most precious square of sense possesses;
And find I am alone felicitate
In your dear highness’ love.
Cordelia
[Aside] Then poor Cordelia!
And yet not so; since, I am sure, my love’s
More richer than my tongue.
King Lear
To thee and thine hereditary ever
Remain this ample third of our fair kingdom;
No less in space, validity, and pleasure,
Than that conferr’d on Goneril. Now, our joy,
Although the last, not least; to whose young love
The vines of France and milk of Burgundy
Strive to be interess’d; what can you say to draw
A third more opulent than your sisters? Speak.
Cordelia
Nothing, my lord.
King Lear
Nothing!
Cordelia
Nothing.
King Lear
Nothing will come of nothing: speak again.
Cordelia
Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave
My heart into my mouth: I love your majesty
According to my bond; nor more nor less.
King Lear
How, how, Cordelia! mend your speech a little,
Lest it may mar your fortunes.
Cordelia
Good my lord,
You have begot me, bred me, loved me: I
Return those duties back as are right fit,
Obey you, love you, and most honour you.
Why have my sisters husbands, if they say
They love you all? Haply, when I shall wed,
That lord whose hand must take my plight shall carry
Half my love with him, half my care and duty:
Sure, I shall never marry like my sisters,
To love my father all.
King Lear
But goes thy heart with this?
Cordelia
Ay, good my lord.
King Lear
So young, and so untender?
Cordelia
So young, my lord, and true.
King Lear
Let it be so; thy truth, then, be thy dower:
For, by the sacred radiance of the sun,
The mysteries of Hecate, and the night;
By all the operation of the orbs
From whom we do exist, and cease to be;
Here I disclaim all my paternal care,
Propinquity and property of blood,
And as a stranger to my heart and me
Hold thee, from this, for ever. The barbarous Scythian,
Or he that makes his generation messes
To gorge his appetite, shall to my bosom
Be as well neighbour’d, pitied, and relieved,
As thou my sometime daughter.
Kent
Good my liege,—
King Lear
Peace, Kent!
Come not between the dragon and his wrath.
I loved her most, and thought to set my rest
On her kind nursery. Hence, and avoid my sight!
So be my grave my peace, as here I give
Her father’s heart from her! Call France; who stirs?
Call Burgundy. Cornwall and Albany,
With my two daughters’ dowers digest this third:
Let pride, which she calls plainness, marry her.
I do invest you jointly with my power,
Pre-eminence, and all the large effects
That troop with majesty. Ourself, by monthly course,
With reservation of an hundred knights,
By you to be sustain’d, shall our abode
Make with you by due turns. Only we still retain
The name, and all the additions to a king;
The sway, revenue, execution of the rest,
Beloved sons, be yours: which to confirm,
This coronet part betwixt you.
Giving the crown
Kent
Royal Lear,
Whom I have ever honour’d as my king,
Loved as my father, as my master follow’d,
As my great patron thought on in my prayers,—
King Lear
The bow is bent and drawn, make from the shaft.
Kent
Let it fall rather, though the fork invade
The region of my heart: be Kent unmannerly,
When Lear is mad. What wilt thou do, old man?
Think’st thou that duty shall have dread to speak,
When power to flattery bows? To plainness honour’s bound,
When majesty stoops to folly. Reverse thy doom;
And, in thy best consideration, cheque
This hideous rashness: answer my life my judgment,
Thy youngest daughter does not love thee least;
Nor are those empty-hearted whose low sound
Reverbs no hollowness.
King Lear
Kent, on thy life, no more.
Kent
My life I never held but as a pawn
To wage against thy enemies; nor fear to lose it,
Thy safety being the motive.
King Lear
Out of my sight!
Kent
See better, Lear; and let me still remain
The true blank of thine eye.
King Lear
Now, by Apollo,—
Kent
Now, by Apollo, king,
Thou swear’st thy gods in vain.
King Lear
O, vassal! miscreant!
Laying his hand on his sword
Albany
Cornwall
Dear sir, forbear.
Kent
Do:
Kill thy physician, and the fee bestow
Upon thy foul disease. Revoke thy doom;
Or, whilst I can vent clamour from my throat,
I’ll tell thee thou dost evil.
King Lear
Hear me, recreant!
On thine allegiance, hear me!
Since thou hast sought to make us break our vow,
Which we durst never yet, and with strain’d pride
Complete Plays, The Page 98
