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Complete Plays, The

Page 107

by William Shakespeare


  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.
r />   [Reads] ‘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 goal; from the loathed warmth whereof deliver me, and supply the place for your labour.

  ‘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

 

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