Complete Plays, The
Page 107
Gloucester
Were all the letters suns, I could not see one.
Edgar
I would not take this from report; it is,
And my heart breaks at it.
King Lear
Read.
Gloucester
What, with the case of eyes?
King 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.
Gloucester
I see it feelingly.
King 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 hast seen a farmer’s dog bark at a beggar?
Gloucester
Ay, sir.
King Lear
And the creature run from the cur? There thou mightst behold the great image of authority: a dog’s obeyed in office.
Thou rascal beadle, hold thy bloody hand!
Why dost thou lash that whore? Strip thine own back;
Thou hotly lust’st to use her in that kind
For which thou whipp’st her. The usurer hangs the cozener.
Through tatter’d clothes small vices do appear;
Robes and furr’d gowns hide all. Plate sin with gold,
And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks:
Arm it in rags, a pigmy’s straw does pierce it.
None does offend, none, I say, none; I’ll able ’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
To see the things thou dost not. Now, now, now, now:
Pull off my boots: harder, harder: so.
Edgar
O, matter and impertinency mix’d! Reason in madness!
King 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,
We wawl and cry. I will preach to thee: mark.
Gloucester
Alack, alack the day!
King Lear
When we are born, we cry that we are come
To this great stage of fools: this a good block;
It were a delicate stratagem, to shoe
A troop of horse with felt: I’ll put ’t in proof;
And when I have stol’n upon these sons-in-law,
Then, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill!
Enter a Gentleman, with Attendants
Gentleman
O, here he is: lay hand upon him. Sir,
Your most dear daughter —
King 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 the brains.
Gentleman
You shall have any thing.
King Lear
No seconds? all myself?
Why, this would make a man a man of salt,
To use his eyes for garden water-pots,
Ay, and laying autumn’s dust.
Gentleman
Good sir,—
King Lear
I will die bravely, like a bridegroom. What!
I will be jovial: come, come; I am a king,
My masters, know you that.
Gentleman
You are a royal one, and we obey you.
King Lear
Then there’s life in’t. Nay, if you get it, you shall get it with running. Sa, sa, sa, sa.
Exit running; Attendants follow
Gentleman
A sight most pitiful in the meanest wretch,
Past speaking of in a king! Thou hast one daughter,
Who redeems nature from the general curse
Which twain have brought her to.
Edgar
Hail, gentle sir.
Gentleman
Sir, speed you: what’s your will?
Edgar
Do you hear aught, sir, of a battle toward?
Gentleman
Most sure and vulgar: every one hears that,
Which can distinguish sound.
Edgar
But, by your favour,
How near’s the other army?
Gentleman
Near and on speedy foot; the main descry
Stands on the hourly thought.
Edgar
I thank you, sir: that’s all.
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
Hearty thanks:
The bounty and the benison of heaven
To boot, and boot!
Enter Oswald
Oswald
A proclaim’d 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.
Edgar interposes
Oswald
Wherefore, bold peasant,
Darest thou support a publish’d traitor? Hence;
Lest that the infection of his fortune take
Like hold on thee. Let go his arm.
Edgar
Ch’ill not let go, zir, without vurther ’casion.
Oswald
Let go, slave, or thou diest!
Edgar
Good gentleman, go your gait, and let poor volk pass. An chud ha’ bin zwaggered out of my life, ’twould not ha’ bin zo long as ’tis by a vortnight. Nay, come not near th’ old man; keep out, che vor ye, or ise try whether your costard or my ballow be the harder: ch’ill be plain with you.
Oswald
Out, dunghill!
Edgar
Ch’ill pick your teeth, zir: come; no matter vor your foins.
They fight, and 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 Edmund earl of Gloucester; seek him out
Upon the British party: O, untimely death!
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
Let’s see these pockets: the letters that he speaks of
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’ld rip their hearts;
Their papers, is more lawful.
‘Your — wife, so I would say —
‘Affectionate servant,
‘Goneril.’
O undistinguish’d 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.
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 distract:
So should my thoughts be sever’d from my griefs,
And woes by wrong imaginations lose
The knowledge of themselves.
Edgar
Give me your hand:
Drum afar off
Far off, methinks, I hear the beaten drum:
Come, father, I’ll bestow you with a friend.
Exeunt
SCENE VII. A TENT IN THE FRENCH CAMP. LEAR ON A BED ASLEEP,
soft music playing; Gentleman, and others attending.
Enter Cordelia, Kent, and Doctor
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 clipp’d, but so.
Cordelia
Be better suited:
These weeds are memories of those worser hours:
I prithee, put them off.
Kent
Pardon me, 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.
To the Doctor
How does the king?
Doctor
Madam, sleeps still.
Cordelia
O you kind gods,
Cure this great breach in his abused nature!
The untuned and jarring senses, O, wind up
Of this child-changed father!
Doctor
So please your majesty
That we may wake the king: he hath slept long.
Cordelia
Be govern’d by your knowledge, and proceed
I’ the sway of your own will. Is he array’d?
Gentleman
Ay, madam; in the heaviness of his sleep
We put fresh garments on him.
Doctor
Be by, good madam, when we do awake him;
I doubt not of his temperance.
Cordelia
Very well.
Doctor
Please you, draw near. Louder the music there!
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
Had challenged pity of them. Was this a face
To be opposed against the warring winds?
To stand against the deep dread-bolted thunder?
In the most terrible and nimble stroke
Of quick, cross lightning? to watch — poor perdu!—
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,
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.
Doctor
Madam, do you; ’tis fittest.
Cordelia
How does my royal lord? How fares your majesty?
King Lear
You do me wrong to take me out o’ the grave:
Thou art a soul in bliss; but I am bound
Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears
Do scald like moulten lead.
Cordelia
Sir, do you know me?
King Lear
You are a spirit, I know: when did you die?
Cordelia
Still, still, far wide!
Doctor
He’s scarce awake: let him alone awhile.
King Lear
Where have I been? Where am I? Fair daylight?
I am mightily abused. I should e’en 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
O, look upon me, sir,
And hold your hands in benediction o’er me:
No, sir, you must not kneel.
King Lear
Pray, do not mock me:
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.
King 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.
King Lear
Am I in France?
Kent
In your own kingdom, sir.
King Lear
Do not abuse me.
Doctor
Be comforted, good madam: the great rage,
You see, is kill’d in him: and yet it is danger
To make him even o’er the time he has lost.
Desire him to go in; trouble him no more
Till further settling.
Cordelia
Will’t please your highness walk?
King Lear
You must bear with me:
Pray you now, forget and forgive: I am old and foolish.
Exeunt all but Kent and Gentleman
Gentleman
Holds it true, sir, that the Duke of Cornwall was so slain?
Kent
Most certain, sir.
Gentleman
Who is conductor of his people?
Kent
As ’tis said, the bastard son of Gloucester.
Gentleman
They say Edgar, his banished 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.
Gentleman
The arbitrement
is like to be bloody. 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
ACT V
SCENE I. THE BRITISH CAMP, NEAR DOVER.
Enter, with drum and colours, Edmund, Regan, Gentlemen, and Soldiers.
Edmund
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 alteration
And self-reproving: bring his constant pleasure.
To a Gentleman, who goes out
Regan
Our sister’s man is certainly miscarried.
Edmund
’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?
Edmund
In honour’d love.
Regan
But have you never found my brother’s way
To the forfended place?
Edmund
That thought abuses you.
Regan
I am doubtful that you have been conjunct
And bosom’d with her, as far as we call hers.
Edmund
No, by mine honour, madam.
Regan
I never shall endure her: dear my lord,
Be not familiar with her.
Edmund
Fear me not:
She and the duke her husband!
Enter, with drum and colours, Albany, Goneril, and Soldiers
Goneril
[Aside] I had rather lose the battle than that sister
Should loosen him and me.
Albany
Our very loving sister, well be-met.
Sir, this I hear; the king is come to his daughter,
With others whom the rigor of our state
Forced to cry out. Where I could not be honest,
I never yet was valiant: for this business,
It toucheth us, as France invades our land,
Not bolds the king, with others, whom, I fear,
Most just and heavy causes make oppose.
Edmund
Sir, you speak nobly.
Regan
Why is this reason’d?
Goneril
Combine together ’gainst the enemy;
For these domestic and particular broils
Are not the question here.
Albany
Let’s then determine
With the ancient of war on our proceedings.
Edmund
I shall attend you presently at your tent.
Regan
Sister, you’ll go with us?
Goneril
No.
Regan
’Tis most convenient; pray you, go with us.
Goneril
[Aside] O, ho, I know the riddle.— I will go.
As they are going out, enter Edgar disguised