King Lear

Act 3 Scene 1

running scene 6

Storm still. Enter Kent and a Gentleman, severally³

KENT Who’s there, besides foul weather?

GENTLEMAN One minded like the weather, most unquietly².

KENT I know you. Where’s the king?

GENTLEMAN Contending⁴ with the fretful elements;

Bids the wind blow the earth into the sea

Or swell the curlèd waters ’bove the main⁶,

That things might change or cease.

KENT But who is with him?

GENTLEMAN None but the fool, who labours to out-jest⁹

His heart-struck injuries¹⁰.

KENT Sir, I do know you,

And dare, upon the warrant of my note¹²

Commend a dear thing to you¹³. There is division —

Although as yet the face of it is covered

With mutual cunning — ’twixt Albany and Cornwall,

Who have — as who have not, that their great stars¹⁶

Throned and set high? — servants, who seem no less¹⁷,

Which are to France the spies and speculations¹⁸

Intelligent of¹⁹ our state. What hath been seen,

Either in snuffs and packings²⁰ of the dukes,

Or the hard rein which both of them hath borne²¹

Against the old kind king, or something deeper,

Whereof perchance these are but furnishings²³.

GENTLEMAN I will talk further with you.

KENT No, do not.

For confirmation that I am much more

Than my out-wall²⁷, open this purse and take

Gives a purse

What it contains. If you shall see Cordelia —

Gives a ring

As fear not but you shall — show her this ring,

And she will tell you who that fellow³⁰ is

That yet you do not know. Fie on this storm!

I will go seek the king.

GENTLEMAN Give me your hand. Have you no more to say?

KENT Few words, but, to effect³⁴, more than all yet:

That when we have found the king — in which your pain³⁵

That way, I’ll this — he that first lights on him

Holla³⁷ the other.

Exeunt [separately]

Act 3 Scene 2

running scene 6 continues

Storm still. Enter Lear and Fool

LEAR Blow winds and crack your cheeks! Rage, blow,

You cataracts and hurricanoes², spout

Till you have drenched our steeples, drown the cocks³!

You sulphurous and thought-executing fires⁴,

Vaunt-couriers⁵ of oak-cleaving thunderbolts,

Singe my white head! And thou, all-shaking thunder,

Strike flat the thick rotundity o’th’world!

Crack nature’s moulds, all germens⁸ spill at once

That makes ingrateful man!

FOOL O, nuncle, court holy-water¹⁰ in a dry house is better

than this rain-water out o’door. Good nuncle, in, ask thy

daughters’ blessing: here’s a night pities neither wise men

nor fools.

LEAR Rumble thy bellyful! Spit fire! Spout rain!

Nor rain, wind, thunder, fire, are my daughters.

I tax not you, you elements, with¹⁶ unkindness:

I never gave you kingdom, called you children;

You owe me no subscription¹⁸. Then let fall

Your horrible pleasure: here I stand, your slave,

A poor, infirm, weak and despised old man:

But yet I call you servile ministers²¹,

That will with two pernicious²² daughters join

Your high-engendered battles gainst a head²³

So old and white as this. O, ho, ’tis foul²⁴!

FOOL He that has a house to put’s²⁵ head in has a good

head-piece²⁶:

Sings

The codpiece that will house²⁷

Before the head has any²⁸,

The head and he shall louse²⁹,

So beggars marry many³⁰.

The man that makes his toe³¹

What he his heart should make

Shall of a corn³³ cry woe,

And turn his sleep to wake.

For there was never yet fair woman, but she made mouths³⁵

in a glass.

Enter Kent

Disguised as Caius

LEAR No, I will be the pattern of all patience:

I will say nothing.

KENT Who’s there?

FOOL Marry, here’s grace and a codpiece⁴⁰: that’s a wise

man and a fool.

KENT Alas, sir, are you here? Things that love night

Love not such nights as these: the wrathful skies

Gallow the very wanderers of the dark⁴⁴

And make 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 never

Remember to have heard: man’s nature cannot carry

Th’affliction nor the fear.

LEAR Let the great gods,

That keep this dreadful pudder⁵¹ o’er our heads,

Find out their enemies now. Tremble, thou wretch,

That hast within thee undivulgèd crimes

Unwhipped of⁵⁴ justice: hide thee, thou bloody hand,

Thou perjured, and thou simular⁵⁵ of virtue

That art incestuous: caitiff⁵⁶, to pieces shake,

That under covert and convenient seeming⁵⁷

Has practised on⁵⁸ man’s life: close pent-up guilts,

Rive your concealing continents and cry⁵⁹

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 while I to this hard house⁶⁵ —

More harder than the stones whereof ’tis raised,

Which even but now, demanding⁶⁷ after you,

Denied me to come in — return and force

Their scanted⁶⁹ courtesy.

LEAR My wits begin to turn.

Come on, my boy: how dost, my boy? Art cold?

I am cold myself.— Where is this straw, my fellow⁷²?

The art of our necessities is strange⁷³,

And can make vile things precious. Come, your hovel.—

Poor fool and knave, I have one part in my heart

That’s sorry yet for thee.

Sings

FOOL He that has and a little tiny wit⁷⁷,

With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,

Must make content with his fortunes fit⁷⁹,

Though the rain it raineth every day.

LEAR True, boy.— Come, bring us to this hovel.

Exeunt [Lear and Kent]

FOOL This is a brave night to cool a courtesan⁸².

I’ll speak a prophecy ere I go:

When priests are more in word than matter⁸⁴;

When brewers mar⁸⁵ their malt with water;

When nobles are their tailors’ tutors⁸⁶;

No heretics burned, but wenches’ suitors⁸⁷;

When every case in law is right⁸⁸;

No squire in debt, nor no poor knight;

When slanders do not live in tongues;

Nor cutpurses come not to throngs⁹¹;

When usurers tell their gold i’th’field⁹²,

And bawds⁹³ and whores do churches build,

Then shall the realm of Albion⁹⁴

Come to great confusion⁹⁵:

Then comes the time, who⁹⁶ lives to see’t,

That going shall be used with feet⁹⁷.

This prophecy Merlin⁹⁸ shall make, for I live before his time.

Exit

Act 3 Scene 3

running scene 7

Carrying torches

Enter Gloucester and Edmund

GLOUCESTER Alack, alack, Edmund, I like not this unnatural

dealing. When I desired their leave that I might pity² him,

they took from me the use of mine own house, charged me

on pain of perpetual displeasure neither to speak of him,

entreat for him, or any way sustain him.

EDMUND Most savage and unnatural.

GLOUCESTER Go to⁷; say you nothing. There is division between

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 closet¹⁰. These injuries the king now

bears will be revenged home; there is part of a power¹¹ already

footed. We must incline to the king: I will look¹² him and

privily relieve¹³ him. Go you and maintain talk with the duke,

that my charity be not of¹⁴ him perceived: if he ask for me, I

am ill and gone to bed: if I die for it — as no less is threatened

me — the king my old master must be relieved. There is

strange things toward¹⁷, Edmund: pray you be careful.

Exit

EDMUND This courtesy forbid thee¹⁸ shall the duke

Instantly know, and of that letter too:

This seems a fair deserving²⁰ and must draw me

That which my father loses: no less than all.

The younger rises when the old doth fall.

Exit

Act 3 Scene 4

running scene 8

Enter Lear, Kent and Fool

Kent disguised as Caius

KENT Here is the place, my lord. Good my lord, enter:

The tyranny of the open night’s too rough

For nature³ to endure.

Storm still

LEAR Let me alone.

KENT Good my lord, enter here.

LEAR Will’t 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 malady¹⁰ 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 free¹³,

The body’s delicate¹⁴: the tempest in my mind

Doth from my senses take all feeling else

Save what beats there. Filial ingratitude!

Is it not as¹⁷ this mouth should tear this hand

For lifting food to’t? But I will punish home¹⁸.

No, I will weep no more. In such a night

To shut me out? Pour on, I will endure.

In such a night as this? O Regan, Goneril,

Your old kind father, whose frank²² heart gave all —

O, that way madness lies: let me shun that:

No more of that.

KENT Good my lord, enter here.

LEAR Prithee go in thyself: seek thine own ease:

This tempest will not give me leave to ponder

On things would hurt me more. But I’ll go in.—

To the Fool

In, boy, go first.—

You houseless poverty—

Nay, get thee in.— I’ll pray, and then I’ll sleep.

Exit [Fool]

Kneels

Poor naked wretches, wheresoe’er you are,

That bide³² the pelting of this pitiless storm,

How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides³³,

Your lopped and windowed³⁴ raggedness, defend you

From seasons such as these? O, I have ta’en

Too little care of this! Take physic, pomp³⁶,

Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel,

That thou mayst shake the superflux³⁸ to them

And show the heavens more just.

Enter Edgar and Fool

Within the hovel

EDGAR Fathom and half, fathom and half⁴⁰! Poor Tom!

FOOL Come not in here, nuncle, here’s a spirit⁴¹. Help me,

help me!

KENT Give me thy hand. Who’s there?

FOOL A spirit, a spirit: he says his name’s poor Tom.

KENT What art thou that dost grumble⁴⁵ there i’th’straw?

Come forth.

Edgar comes out, disguised as a mad beggar

EDGAR Away! The foul fiend follows me! Through the sharp

hawthorn blow the winds. Hum! Go to thy bed and warm

thee.

LEAR Did’st thou give all to thy daughters? And art thou

come to this?

EDGAR Who gives anything to poor Tom? Whom the foul⁵²

fiend hath led through fire and through flame, through ford

and whirlpool, o’er bog and quagmire, that hath laid knives⁵⁴

under his pillow, and halters in his pew, set ratsbane⁵⁵ by his

porridge, made him proud of heart, to ride on a bay⁵⁶ trotting-horse

over four-inched bridges, to course his own shadow for⁵⁷

a traitor. Bless thy five wits! Tom’s a-cold. O, do de, do de⁵⁸, do

de. Bless thee from whirlwinds, star-blasting and taking⁵⁹! Do

poor Tom some charity, whom the foul fiend vexes: there⁶⁰

could I have him now — and there — and there again, and

there.

Storm still

LEAR Has his daughters brought him to this pass⁶³?

Couldst thou save nothing? Wouldst thou give ’em all?

FOOL Nay, he reserved a blanket⁶⁵, else we had been all

shamed.

LEAR Now, all the plagues that in the pendulous⁶⁷ air

Hang fated o’er men’s faults⁶⁸ light on thy daughters!

KENT He hath no daughters, sir.

LEAR Death, traitor! Nothing could have subdued nature⁷⁰

To such a lowness but his unkind daughters.

Is it the fashion that discarded fathers

Should have thus little mercy on their flesh⁷³?

Judicious punishment! ’Twas this flesh begot

Those pelican⁷⁵ daughters.

EDGAR Pillicock sat on Pillicock-hill: alow, alow, loo, loo⁷⁶!

FOOL This cold night will turn us all to fools and madmen.

EDGAR Take heed o’th’foul fiend: obey⁷⁸ thy parents, keep thy

word’s justice, swear not, commit not⁷⁹ with man’s sworn

spouse, set not thy sweetheart on proud array⁸⁰. Tom’s a-cold.

LEAR What hast thou been?

EDGAR A servingman, proud in heart and mind, that

curled my hair, wore gloves⁸³ 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 in⁸⁶ the contriving of lust, and

waked to do it: wine loved I dearly, dice⁸⁷ dearly, and in woman

out-paramoured the Turk: false of heart, light of ear⁸⁸, bloody

of hand: hog in sloth, fox in stealth, wolf in greediness, dog

in madness, lion in prey. Let not the creaking of shoes nor⁹⁰

the rustling of silks betray thy poor heart to woman: keep

thy foot out of brothels, thy hand out of plackets, thy pen⁹²

from lenders’ books, and defy the foul fiend. Still through the

hawthorn blows the cold wind, says suum, mun, nonny⁹⁴,

Dolphin my boy, boy sessa! Let him trot by⁹⁵.

Storm still

LEAR Thou wert better in a grave than to answer⁹⁶ with thy

uncovered body this extremity of the skies. Is man no more

than this? Consider him well. Thou ow’st the worm no silk,

the beast no hide, the sheep no wool, the cat no perfume⁹⁹. Ha?

Here’s three on’s are sophisticated¹⁰⁰. Thou art the thing itself:

unaccommodated¹⁰¹ man is no more but such a poor bare,

forked animal as thou art. Off, off, you lendings¹⁰²! Come,

unbutton here.

Tears off his clothes

Enter Gloucester with a torch

FOOL Prithee, nuncle, be contented: ’tis a naughty¹⁰⁴ 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 fire¹⁰⁷.

EDGAR This is the foul Flibbertigibbet: he begins at curfew¹⁰⁸

and walks till the first cock: he gives the web and the pin¹⁰⁹,

squints¹¹⁰ the eye and makes the hare-lip, mildews the white

wheat, and hurts the poor creature of earth.

Chants?

Swithold footed thrice the old¹¹²,

He met the nightmare and her nine-fold¹¹³;

Bid her alight,

And her troth plight¹¹⁵,

And, aroint¹¹⁶ thee, witch, aroint thee!

KENT How fares your grace?

LEAR What’s¹¹⁸ he?

KENT 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 water¹²², that in the fury of

his heart, when the foul fiend rages, eats cow-dung for

salads, swallows the old rat and the ditch-dog¹²⁴, drinks the

green mantle of the standing pool, who is whipped¹²⁵ from

tithing¹²⁶ to tithing, and stocked, punished and imprisoned,

who hath had three suits to his back, six shirts¹²⁷ to his body:

Horse to ride, and weapon to wear,

But mice and rats and such small deer¹²⁹

Have been Tom’s food for seven long year.

Beware my follower. Peace, Smulkin¹³¹, peace, thou fiend!

GLOUCESTER What, hath your grace no better company?

EDGAR The prince of darkness is a gentleman: Modo he’s¹³³

called, and Mahu.

To Lear

GLOUCESTER Our flesh and blood, my lord, is grown so vile¹³⁵,

That it doth hate what gets¹³⁶ it.

EDGAR Poor Tom’s a-cold.

GLOUCESTER Go in with me: my duty cannot suffer

T’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 fire and food is ready.

LEAR First let me talk with this philosopher.—

To Edgar

What is the cause of thunder?

KENT Good my lord, take his offer: go into th’house.

LEAR I’ll talk a word with this same learnèd Theban¹⁴⁷.—

To Edgar

What is your study?

EDGAR How to prevent¹⁴⁹ the fiend and to kill vermin.

They talk apart

LEAR Let me ask you one word in private.

To Gloucester

KENT Importune¹⁵¹ him once more to go, my lord:

His wits begin t’unsettle¹⁵².

GLOUCESTER Canst thou blame him?

Storm still

His daughters seek his death. Ah, that good Kent!

He said it would be thus, poor banished man!

Thou sayest the king grows mad: I’ll tell thee, friend,

I am almost mad myself. I had a son,

Now outlawed from my blood¹⁵⁸: he 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 mercy¹⁶³, sir.—

To Edgar

Noble philosopher, your company.

EDGAR Tom’s a-cold.

To Edgar

GLOUCESTER In, fellow, there, into th’hovel: keep thee warm.

LEAR Come let’s in all.

KENT This way, my lord.

LEAR With him;

I will keep still¹⁷⁰ with my philosopher.

To Gloucester

KENT Good my lord, soothe¹⁷¹ him: let him take the fellow.

To Kent

GLOUCESTER Take him you on¹⁷².

To Edgar

KENT Sirrah, come on: go along with us.

LEAR Come, good Athenian¹⁷⁴.

GLOUCESTER No words, no words: hush.

EDGAR Child Rowland to the dark tower came¹⁷⁶,

His word was still: fie, foh and fum,¹⁷⁷

I smell the blood of a British man.

Exeunt

Act 3 Scene 5

running scene 9

Enter Cornwall and Edmund

CORNWALL I will have my revenge ere I depart his¹ house.

EDMUND How, my lord, I may be censured, that nature² thus

gives way to loyalty, something fears³ me to think of.

CORNWALL I now perceive it was not altogether your brother’s

evil disposition made him seek his death, but a provoking⁵

merit set a-work by a reprovable badness in himself.

EDMUND How malicious is my fortune — that I must repent

to be⁸ just! This is the letter which he spoke of Shows a letter

which approves him an intelligent party⁹ to the advantages of

France. O heavens! That this 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

apprehension¹⁷.

Aside

EDMUND If I find him comforting the king, it will stuff

his suspicion¹⁹ more fully.— I will persevere 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 dear

father in my love.

Exeunt

Act 3 Scene 6

running scene 10

Enter Kent and Gloucester

GLOUCESTER Here is better than the open air, take it thankfully. I

will piece out² the comfort with what addition I can: I will not

be long from you.

Exit

KENT All the power of his wits have given way to his

impatience⁵: the gods reward your kindness!

Enter Lear, Edgar and Fool

Edgar disguised as Poor Tom

EDGAR Frateretto calls me, and tells me Nero is an angler⁶ in

the lake of darkness⁷. Pray, innocent, and beware the foul

fiend.

FOOL Prithee, nuncle, tell me whether a madman be a

gentleman or a yeoman¹⁰?

LEAR A king, a king!

FOOL No, he’s a yeoman that has a gentleman to¹² his son,

for he’s a mad¹³ yeoman that sees his son a gentleman before

him.

LEAR To have a thousand¹⁵ with red burning spits

Come hizzing in upon ’em¹⁶—

EDGAR Bless thy five wits!

KENT O pity! Sir, where is the patience now

That you so oft have boasted to retain?

Aside

EDGAR My tears begin to take his part so much

They mar my counterfeiting²¹.

LEAR The little dogs and all,

Trey, Blanch and Sweetheart²³, see, they bark at me.

EDGAR Tom will throw his head at them. Avaunt²⁴, you curs!

Be thy mouth or black or²⁵ white,

Tooth that poisons²⁶ if it bite,

Mastiff, greyhound, mongrel grim²⁷,

Hound or spaniel, brach or him²⁸,

Or bobtail tyke or trundle-tail²⁹,

Tom will make him weep and wail:

For, with throwing thus my head,

Dogs leapt the hatch³², and all are fled.

Do de, de, de. Sessa! Come, march to wakes³³ and fairs and

market towns. Poor Tom, thy horn³⁴ is dry.

LEAR Then let them anatomize³⁵ Regan: see what breeds

about her heart. Is there any cause in nature that make

To Edgar

these hard hearts?— You, sir, I entertain³⁷ for one of

my hundred; only I do not like the fashion of your garments:

you will say they are Persian³⁹; but let them be changed.

Enter Gloucester

At a distance

KENT Now, good my lord, lie here and rest awhile.

LEAR Make no noise, make no noise: draw the curtains⁴¹.

So, so, we’ll go to supper i’th’morning.

Sleeps

FOOL And I’ll go to bed at noon.

To Kent

GLOUCESTER Come hither, friend: where is the king my master?

KENT Here, sir, but trouble him not: his wits are gone.

GLOUCESTER Good friend, I prithee take him in thy arms;

I have o’erheard a plot of death upon him:

There is a litter⁴⁸ ready, lay him in’t

And drive toward Dover⁴⁹, friend, where thou shalt meet

Both welcome and protection. Take up thy master:

If thou shouldst dally half an hour, his life,

With thine and all that offer to defend him,

Stand in assurèd loss. Take up, take up,

They carry Lear

And follow me, that will to some provision⁵⁴

Give thee quick conduct. Come, come, away.

Exeunt

Act 3 Scene 7

running scene 11

Enter Cornwall, Regan, Goneril, Bastard [Edmund] and Servants

To Goneril

CORNWALL Post¹ speedily to my lord your husband;

Gives a letter

show him this letter: the army of France is

landed.— Seek out the traitor Gloucester.

[Exeunt some Servants]

REGAN Hang him instantly.

GONERIL Pluck out his eyes.

CORNWALL Leave him to my displeasure. Edmund, keep you our

sister⁷ company: the revenges we are bound to take upon

your traitorous father are not fit for your beholding. Advise⁸

the duke where you are going, to a most festinate⁹

preparation: we are bound to the like. Our posts¹⁰ shall be swift

and intelligent¹¹ betwixt us. Farewell, dear sister: farewell, my

lord of Gloucester¹².

Enter Oswald

How now? Where’s the king?

OSWALD My lord of Gloucester hath conveyed him hence:

Some five- or six-and-thirty of his knights,

Hot questrists¹⁷ after him, met him at gate,

Who, with some other of the lord’s¹⁸ dependants,

Are gone with him toward Dover, where they boast

To have well-armèd friends.

CORNWALL Get horses for your mistress.

GONERIL Farewell, sweet lord, and sister.

Exeunt [Goneril, Edmund and Oswald]

CORNWALL Edmund, farewell.—

Go seek the traitor Gloucester,

Pinion him²⁵ like a thief, bring him before us.

[Exeunt other Servants]

Though well we may not pass upon his life²⁶

Without the form of justice, yet our power

Shall do a court’sy²⁸ to our wrath, which men

May blame but not control.

Enter Gloucester and Servants

Who’s there? The traitor?

REGAN Ingrateful fox! ’Tis he.

CORNWALL Bind fast his corky³¹ arms.

GLOUCESTER What means your graces?

Good my friends, consider you are my guests:

Do me no foul play, friends.

CORNWALL Bind him, I say.

Servants bind him

REGAN Hard, hard. O, filthy traitor!

GLOUCESTER Unmerciful lady as you are, I’m none.

CORNWALL To this chair bind him.— Villain, thou shalt find—

Regan plucks his beard

GLOUCESTER By the kind gods, ’tis most ignobly done

To pluck me by the beard.

REGAN So white⁴¹, and such a traitor?

GLOUCESTER Naughty⁴² lady,

These hairs which thou dost ravish⁴³ from my chin

Will quicken⁴⁴ and accuse thee. I am your host:

With robbers’ hands my hospitable favours⁴⁵

You should not ruffle⁴⁶ thus. What will you do?

CORNWALL Come, sir, what letters had you late from France?

REGAN Be simple answered⁴⁸, for we know the truth.

CORNWALL And what confederacy have you with the traitors

Late footed⁵⁰ in the kingdom?

REGAN To whose hands you have sent the lunatic king? Speak.

GLOUCESTER I have a letter guessingly⁵² set down,

Which came from one that’s of a neutral heart,

And not from one opposed⁵⁴.

CORNWALL Cunning.

REGAN And false.

CORNWALL Where hast thou sent the king?

GLOUCESTER To Dover.

REGAN Wherefore to Dover? Wast thou not charged at peril⁵⁹—

CORNWALL Wherefore to Dover? Let him answer that.

GLOUCESTER I am tied to th’stake and I must stand the course⁶¹.

REGAN Wherefore to Dover?

GLOUCESTER Because I would not see thy cruel nails

Pluck out his poor old eyes, nor thy fierce sister

In his anointed⁶⁵ flesh stick boarish fangs.

The sea, with such a storm as his bare head

In hell-black night endured, would have buoyed⁶⁷ up

And quenched the stellèd⁶⁸ fires:

Yet, poor old heart, he holp the heavens to rain⁶⁹.

If wolves had at thy gate howled that stern⁷⁰ time,

Thou shouldst have said ‘Good porter, turn the key⁷¹.’

All cruels else subscribe⁷²: but I shall see

The wingèd vengeance⁷³ overtake such children.

CORNWALL See’t shalt thou never. Fellows⁷⁴, hold the chair.—

Upon these eyes of thine I’ll set my foot.

GLOUCESTER He that will think to live till he be old,

Cornwall grinds out his eye

Give me some help! O cruel! O you gods!

REGAN One side will mock another: th’other too.

CORNWALL If you see vengeance—

SERVANT Hold your hand, my lord:

I have served you ever since I was a child,

But better service have I never done you

Than now to bid you hold.

REGAN How now, you dog?

To Regan

SERVANT If you did wear a beard upon your chin,

I’d shake it on this quarrel.— What do you mean⁸⁶?

They draw and fight

CORNWALL My villain⁸⁷?

SERVANT Nay, then, come on, and take the chance of anger⁸⁸.

To a Servant

REGAN Give me thy sword. A peasant stand up thus?

Kills him

SERVANT O, I am slain! My lord, you have one eye left

To see some mischief on him⁹¹. O!

Dies

CORNWALL Lest it see more, prevent it. Out, vile jelly!

Puts out

Gloucester’s other eye

Where is thy lustre now?

GLOUCESTER All dark and comfortless. Where’s my son Edmund?

Edmund, enkindle all the sparks of nature⁹⁵

To quit⁹⁶ this horrid act.

REGAN Out⁹⁷, treacherous villain!

Thou call’st on him that hates thee: it was he

That made the overture⁹⁹ of thy treasons to us,

Who is too good to pity thee.

GLOUCESTER O, my follies! Then Edgar was abused¹⁰¹.

Kind gods, forgive me that, and prosper him!

REGAN Go thrust him out at gates, and let him smell

His way to Dover.

Exit [a Servant] with Gloucester

How is’t, my lord? How look you?¹⁰⁵

CORNWALL I have received a hurt: follow me, lady.—

Turn out that eyeless villain: throw this slave

Upon the dunghill.— Regan, I bleed apace¹⁰⁸:

Untimely¹⁰⁹ comes this hurt. Give me your arm.

Exeunt

Act 4 Scene 1

running scene 12

Enter Edgar Disguised as Poor Tom

EDGAR Yet better thus, and known to be contemned¹,

Than still contemned and flattered². To be worst,

The lowest and most dejected thing of fortune,

Stands still in esperance⁴, lives not in fear:

The lamentable change is from the best⁵,

The worst returns to laughter. Welcome, then,

Thou unsubstantial air that I embrace!

The wretch that thou hast blown unto the worst

Owes nothing to thy blasts.

Enter Gloucester and an Old Man

But who comes here? My father, poorly led¹⁰?

World, world, O world!

But that thy strange mutations¹² make us hate thee,

Life would not yield to age¹³.

OLD MAN O, my good lord, I have been your tenant and your

father’s tenant these fourscore¹⁵ years.

GLOUCESTER Away, get thee away! Good friend, be gone:

Thy comforts can do me no good at all,

Thee they may hurt¹⁸.

OLD MAN You cannot see your way.

GLOUCESTER I have no way and therefore want no eyes:

I stumbled when I saw. Full oft ’tis seen

Our means secure us, and our mere defects²²

Prove our commodities²³. O dear son Edgar,

The food of thy abusèd²⁴ father’s wrath!

Might I but live to see thee in my touch,

I’d say I had eyes again!

OLD MAN How now? Who’s there?

Aside

EDGAR O gods! Who is’t can say, ‘I am at the worst’?

I am worse than e’er I was.

OLD MAN ’Tis poor mad Tom.

Aside

EDGAR And worse I may be yet: the worst is not³¹

So long as we can say ‘This is the worst.’

OLD MAN Fellow, where goest?

GLOUCESTER Is it a beggar-man?

OLD MAN Madman and beggar too.

GLOUCESTER He has some reason³⁶, else he could not beg.

I’th’last night’s storm I such a fellow saw,

Which made me think a man a worm: my son

Came then into my mind and yet my mind

Was then scarce friends with him. I have heard more since.

As flies to wanton⁴¹ boys are we to th’gods:

They kill us for their sport.

Aside

EDGAR How should this be?

Bad is the trade⁴⁴ that must play fool to sorrow,

Ang’ring itself and others.— Bless thee, master!

GLOUCESTER Is that the naked fellow?

OLD MAN Ay, my lord.

GLOUCESTER Get thee away: if for my sake

Thou wilt o’ertake us hence a mile or twain

I’th’way toward Dover, do it for ancient love⁵⁰,

And bring some covering for this naked soul,

Which I’ll entreat to lead me.

OLD MAN Alack, sir, he is mad.

GLOUCESTER ’Tis the time’s plague⁵⁴, when madmen lead the blind.

Do as I bid thee, or rather do thy pleasure:

Above the rest⁵⁶, be gone.

OLD MAN I’ll bring him the best ’pparel⁵⁷ that I have,

Come on’t what will⁵⁸.

Exit

GLOUCESTER Sirrah, naked fellow—

Aside

EDGAR Poor Tom’s a-cold.— I cannot daub it⁶⁰ further.

GLOUCESTER Come hither, fellow.

Aside

EDGAR And yet I must.— Bless thy sweet eyes, they bleed.

GLOUCESTER Know’st thou the way to Dover?

EDGAR Both stile and gate, horseway and footpath. Poor

Tom hath been scared out of his good wits: bless thee, good

man’s son, from the foul fiend!

GLOUCESTER Here, take this purse, thou whom the heav’ns’ plagues

Gives a purse

Have humbled to all strokes⁶⁸: that I am wretched

Makes thee the happier⁶⁹: heavens, deal so still.

Let the superfluous and lust-dieted⁷⁰ man,

That slaves your ordinance⁷¹, that will not see

Because he does not feel, feel your pow’r quickly⁷²,

So distribution should undo excess,

And each man have enough. Dost thou know Dover?

EDGAR Ay, master.

GLOUCESTER There is a cliff, whose high and bending⁷⁶ head

Looks fearfully in the confinèd⁷⁷ deep:

Bring me but to the very brim⁷⁸ of it

And I’ll repair the misery thou dost bear

With something rich about me⁸⁰: from that place

I shall no leading need.

EDGAR Give me thy arm:

Poor Tom shall lead thee.

Exeunt

Act 4 Scene 2

running scene 13

Enter Goneril, Bastard [Edmund] and Steward [Oswald]

GONERIL Welcome, my lord¹: I marvel our mild husband

Not met us on the way.— Now, where’s your master?

OSWALD Madam, within, but never man so changed.

I told him of the army⁴ that was landed,

He smiled at it: I told him you were coming,

His answer was ‘The worse’: of Gloucester’s treachery

And of the loyal service of his son

When I informed him, then he called me ‘sot’⁸

And told me I had turned the wrong side out⁹.

What most he should dislike seems pleasant to him;

What like, offensive.

To Edmund

GONERIL Then shall you go no further.

It is the cowish¹³ terror of his spirit,

That dares not undertake¹⁴: he’ll not feel wrongs

Which tie him to an answer. Our wishes on the way¹⁵

May prove effects. Back, Edmund, to my brother¹⁶:

Hasten his musters and conduct his powers¹⁷.

I must change names at home and give the distaff¹⁸

Into my husband’s hands. This trusty servant

Shall pass between us: ere long you are like²⁰ to hear —

If you dare venture in your own behalf —

A mistress’s²² command. Wear this; spare speech.

Gives a favor

Decline your head: this kiss, if it durst speak,

Kisses him

Would stretch thy spirits²⁴ up into the air.

Conceive²⁵, and fare thee well.

EDMUND Yours in the ranks of death²⁶.

Exit

GONERIL My most dear Gloucester!

O, the difference of man and man!

To thee a woman’s services²⁹ are due:

My fool usurps³⁰ my body.

OSWALD Madam, here comes my lord.

Exit

Enter Albany

GONERIL I have been worth the whistle³².

ALBANY O Goneril,³³

You are not worth the dust which the rude³⁴ wind

Blows in your face.

GONERIL Milk-livered³⁶ man,

That bear’st a cheek for blows, a head for wrongs,

Who hast not in thy brows an eye discerning³⁸

Thine honour from thy suffering.

ALBANY See thyself, devil!

Proper deformity seems not in the fiend⁴¹

So horrid as in woman.

GONERIL O vain⁴³ fool!

Enter a Messenger

MESSENGER O, my good lord, the Duke of Cornwall’s dead,

Slain by his servant, going to put out

The other eye of Gloucester.

ALBANY Gloucester’s eyes?

MESSENGER A servant that he bred, thrilled with remorse⁴⁸,

Opposed against the act, bending⁴⁹ his sword

To his great master, who, threat-enraged⁵⁰,

Flew on him and amongst them felled him dead,

But not without that harmful stroke which since

Hath plucked him after⁵³.

ALBANY This shows you are above,

You justices, that these our nether⁵⁵ crimes

So speedily can venge⁵⁶. But, O, poor Gloucester!

Lost he his other eye?

MESSENGER Both, both, my lord.—

Gives a letter

This letter, madam, craves a speedy answer:

’Tis from your sister.

Aside

GONERIL One way I like this well:

But being widow, and my Gloucester with her,

May all the building in my fancy pluck⁶³

Upon my hateful life: another way,

The news is not so tart⁶⁵.— I’ll read, and answer.

[Exit]

ALBANY Where was his son when they did take his eyes?

MESSENGER Come with my lady hither.

ALBANY He is not here.

MESSENGER No, my good lord, I met him back⁶⁹ again.

ALBANY Knows he the wickedness?

MESSENGER Ay, my good lord: ’twas he informed against him,

And quit the house on purpose that their punishment

Might have the freer course.

ALBANY Gloucester, I live

To thank thee for the love thou showed’st the king

And to revenge thine eyes.— Come hither, friend:

Tell me what more thou know’st.

Exeunt

Act 4 Scene 3

running scene 14

Enter with Drum and Colours Cordelia, Gentleman and Soldiers

CORDELIA Alack, ’tis he: why, he was met even now

As mad as the vexed² sea, singing aloud,

Crowned with rank fumiter and furrow weeds³,

With burdocks, hemlock, nettles, cuckoo-flowers⁴,

Darnel, and all the idle⁵ weeds that grow

In our sustaining corn. A sentry send forth;

Search every acre in the high-grown field

And bring him to our eye.—

[Exit a Soldier]

What can man’s wisdom⁸

In the restoring his bereavèd⁹ sense?

He that helps him take all my outward worth¹⁰.

GENTLEMAN There is means, madam:

Our foster-nurse of nature is repose¹²,

The which he lacks: that to provoke in him¹³

Are many simples operative, whose power

Will close the eye of anguish.

CORDELIA All blest secrets,

All you unpublished virtues¹⁷ of the earth,

Spring with my tears! Be aidant and remediate¹⁸

In the good man’s distress! Seek, seek for him,

Lest his ungoverned rage²⁰ dissolve the life

That wants the means²¹ to lead it.

Enter Messenger

MESSENGER News, madam:

The British powers are marching hitherward.

CORDELIA ’Tis known before: our preparation²⁴ stands

In expectation of them. O dear father,

It is thy business that I go about:

Therefore great France²⁷

My mourning and importuned²⁸ tears hath pitied.

No blown²⁹ ambition doth our arms incite,

But love, dear love, and our aged father’s right:

Soon may I hear and see him!

Exeunt

Act 4 Scene 4

running scene 15

Enter Regan and Steward [Oswald]

REGAN But are my brother’s powers set forth?

OSWALD Ay, madam.

REGAN Himself in person there?

OSWALD Madam, with much ado⁴:

Your sister is the better soldier.

REGAN Lord Edmund spake not with your lord at home?

OSWALD No, madam.

REGAN What might import⁸ my sister’s letter to him?

OSWALD I know not, lady.

REGAN Faith, he is posted¹⁰ hence on serious matter.

It was great ignorance¹¹, Gloucester’s eyes being out,

To let him live: where he arrives he moves

All hearts against us. Edmund, I think, is gone,

In pity of his misery, to dispatch

His nighted life: moreover, to descry¹⁵

The strength o’th’enemy.

OSWALD I must needs after¹⁷ him, madam, with my letter.

REGAN Our troops set forth tomorrow. Stay with us:

The ways¹⁹ are dangerous.

OSWALD I may not, madam:

My lady charged my duty²¹ in this business.

REGAN Why should she write to Edmund? Might not you

Transport her purposes by word? Belike²³,

Some things I know not what. I’ll love thee²⁴ much,

Let me unseal the letter.

OSWALD Madam, I had rather—

REGAN I know your lady does not love her husband,

I am sure of that: and at her late being here

She gave strange oeillades and most speaking²⁹ looks

To noble Edmund. I know you are of her bosom³⁰.

OSWALD I, madam?

REGAN I speak in understanding. Y’are³², I know’t.

Therefore I do advise you, take this note³³.

My lord is dead: Edmund and I have talked,

And more convenient³⁵ is he for my hand

Than for your lady’s: you may gather more³⁶.

If you do find him, pray you give him this,

Gives a token or a letter

And when your mistress hears thus much from you,

I pray desire her call her wisdom to her³⁹.

So, fare you well.

If you do chance to hear of that blind traitor,

Preferment falls on him that cuts him off.

OSWALD Would I could meet⁴³, madam, I should show

What party I do follow.

REGAN Fare thee well.

Exeunt

Act 4 Scene 5

running scene 16

Enter Gloucester and Edgar

Edgar dressed like a peasant

GLOUCESTER When shall I come to th’top of that same hill¹?

EDGAR You do climb up it now: look how we labour.

GLOUCESTER Methinks the ground is even.

EDGAR Horrible steep.

Hark, do you hear the sea?

GLOUCESTER No, truly.

EDGAR Why, then, your other senses grow imperfect

By your eyes’ anguish.

GLOUCESTER So may it be, indeed:

Methinks thy voice is altered and thou speak’st

In better phrase and matter¹¹ than thou didst.

EDGAR You’re much deceived: in nothing am I changed

But in my garments.

GLOUCESTER Methinks you’re better spoken.

EDGAR Come on, sir, here’s the place: stand still. How fearful

And dizzy ’tis to cast one’s eyes so low!

The crows and choughs that wing the midway¹⁷ air

Show scarce so gross¹⁸ as beetles: halfway down

Hangs one that gathers samphire¹⁹, dreadful trade!

Methinks he seems no bigger than his head.

The fishermen that walk upon the beach

Appear like mice, and yond tall anchoring bark²²

Diminished to her cock²³, her cock, a buoy

Almost too small for sight. The murmuring surge,

That on th’unnumbered idle pebble²⁵ chafes,

Cannot be heard so high. I’ll look no more,

Lest my brain turn and the deficient²⁷ sight

Topple²⁸ down headlong.

GLOUCESTER Set me where you stand.

EDGAR Give me your hand: you are now within a foot

Of th’extreme verge: for all beneath the moon

Would I not leap upright³².

GLOUCESTER Let go my hand.

Here, friend’s³⁴ another purse: in it a jewel

Gives a purse

Well worth a poor man’s taking: fairies and gods

Prosper it³⁶ with thee! Go thou further off:

Bid me farewell, and let me hear thee going.

EDGAR Now fare ye well, good sir.

GLOUCESTER With all my heart.

Aside

EDGAR Why I do trifle⁴⁰ thus with his despair

Is done to cure it.

Kneels

GLOUCESTER O you mighty gods!

This world I do renounce, and in your sights

Shake patiently my great affliction off:

If I could bear it longer, and not fall

To quarrel with your great opposeless⁴⁶ wills,

My snuff and loathèd part of nature⁴⁷ should

Burn itself out. If Edgar live, O, bless him!—

Now, fellow, fare thee well.

He falls forward

EDGAR Gone, sir: farewell.—

Aside

And yet I know not how conceit⁵¹ may rob

The treasury of life, when life itself

Yields⁵³ to the theft: had he been where he thought,

By this⁵⁴ had thought been past. Alive or dead?—

Ho, you sir! Friend! Hear you, sir! Speak!—

Aside

Thus might he pass⁵⁶ indeed: yet he revives.—

What⁵⁷ are you, sir?

GLOUCESTER Away, and let me die.

EDGAR Hadst thou been aught⁵⁹ but gossamer, feathers, air —

So many fathom down precipitating⁶⁰ —

Thou’dst shivered⁶¹ like an egg: but thou dost breathe,

Hast heavy substance, bleed’st not, speak’st, art sound.

Ten masts at each⁶³ make not the altitude

Which thou hast perpendicularly fell:

Thy life’s a miracle. Speak yet again.

GLOUCESTER But have I fall’n or no?

EDGAR From the dread summit of this chalky bourn⁶⁷.

Look up a-height: the shrill-gorged⁶⁸ lark so far

Cannot be seen or heard: do but look up.

GLOUCESTER Alack, I have no eyes.

Is wretchedness deprived that benefit,

To end itself by death? ’Twas yet some comfort

When misery could beguile⁷³ the tyrant’s rage

And frustrate his proud will.

EDGAR Give me your arm.

Helps him up

Up, so. How is’t? Feel you your legs? You stand.

GLOUCESTER Too well, too well.

EDGAR This is above all strangeness.

Upon the crown o’th’cliff what thing was that

Which parted from you?

GLOUCESTER A poor unfortunate beggar.

EDGAR As I stood here below, methought his eyes

Were two full moons: he had a thousand noses,

Horns whelked⁸⁴ and waved like the enragèd sea.

It was some fiend: therefore, thou happy father⁸⁵,

Think that the clearest gods, who make them honours⁸⁶

Of men’s impossibilities, have preserved thee.

GLOUCESTER I do remember now: henceforth I’ll bear

Affliction till it do cry out itself

‘Enough, enough’ and die. That thing you speak of,

I took it for a man: often ’twould say

‘The fiend, the fiend’: he led me to that place.

EDGAR Bear free⁹³ and patient thoughts.

Enter Lear

Dressed with weeds

But who comes here?

The safer sense will ne’er accommodate⁹⁴

His master thus.

LEAR No, they cannot touch⁹⁶ me for crying: I am the king

himself.

EDGAR O thou side-piercing sight!

LEAR Nature’s above art in that respect. There’s your

press-money. That fellow handles his bow like a crow-keeper¹⁰⁰.

Draw me a clothier’s yard¹⁰¹. Look, look, a mouse! Peace, peace,

this piece of toasted cheese will do’t. There’s my gauntlet¹⁰²: I’ll

prove it on a giant. Bring up the brown bills. O, well flown,¹⁰³

bird! I’th’clout, i’th’clout: hewgh! Give the word¹⁰⁴.

EDGAR Sweet marjoram¹⁰⁵.

LEAR Pass.

GLOUCESTER I know that voice.

LEAR Ha? Goneril with a white beard? They flattered me

like a dog and told me I had the white hairs in my beard ere¹⁰⁹

the black ones were there. To say ‘Ay’ and ‘No’ to everything

that I said ‘Ay’ and ‘No’ to was no good divinity¹¹¹. When the

rain came¹¹² to wet me once and the wind to make me chatter,

when the thunder would not peace¹¹³ at my bidding, there I

found ’em, there I smelt ’em out. Go to, they are not men

o’their words: they told me I was everything: ’tis a lie, I am

not ague-proof¹¹⁶.

GLOUCESTER The trick¹¹⁷ of that voice I do well remember:

Is’t not the king?

LEAR Ay, every inch a king.

When I do stare, see how the subject quakes.

I pardon that man’s life. What was thy cause¹²¹?

Adultery?

Thou shalt not die: die for adultery? No.

The wren goes to’t¹²⁴ and the small gilded fly

Does lecher¹²⁵ in my sight. Let copulation thrive,

For Gloucester’s bastard son was kinder to his father

Than were my daughters got¹²⁷ ’tween the lawful sheets.

To’t, luxury, pell-mell, for I lack soldiers¹²⁸.

Behold yond simp’ring dame,

Whose face between her forks presages snow¹³⁰,

That minces virtue and does shake the head¹³¹

To hear of pleasure’s name:

The fitchew nor the soilèd¹³³ horse goes to’t

With a more riotous¹³⁴ appetite. Down from the waist

They are centaurs¹³⁵, though women all above:

But to the girdle do the gods inherit¹³⁶,

Beneath is all the fiends’:

There’s hell, there’s darkness, there is the sulphurous¹³⁸ pit:

burning, scalding, stench, consumption¹³⁹. Fie, fie, fie! Pah,

pah! Give me an ounce of civet, good apothecary¹⁴⁰, sweeten

my imagination: there’s money for thee.

GLOUCESTER O, let me kiss that hand!

LEAR Let me wipe it first: it smells of mortality¹⁴³.

GLOUCESTER O, ruined piece of nature! This great world

Shall so¹⁴⁵ wear out to nought. Dost thou know me?

LEAR I remember thine eyes well enough. Dost thou

squinny at me? No, do thy worst, blind Cupid¹⁴⁷: I’ll not love.

Read thou this challenge, mark but the penning¹⁴⁸ of it.

GLOUCESTER Were all thy letters suns, I could not see.

Aside

EDGAR I would not take this from report¹⁵⁰: it is,

And my heart breaks at it.

LEAR Read.

GLOUCESTER What, with the case¹⁵³ of eyes?

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 case¹⁵⁵,

your purse in a light, yet you see how this world goes.

GLOUCESTER I see it feelingly¹⁵⁷.

LEAR What, art mad? A man may see how this world goes

with no eyes. Look with thine ears: see how yond justice¹⁵⁹ rails

upon yond simple¹⁶⁰ thief. Hark, in thine ear: change places,

and handy-dandy¹⁶¹, which is the justice, which is the thief?

Thou hast seen a farmer’s dog bark at a beggar?

GLOUCESTER Ay, sir.

LEAR And the creature run from the cur? There thou

mightst behold the great image of authority: a dog’s obeyed¹⁶⁵

in office.

Thou rascal beadle¹⁶⁷, hold thy bloody hand!

Why dost thou lash that whore? Strip thy own back:

Thou hotly lusts to use her in that kind¹⁶⁹

For which thou whip’st her. The usurer hangs the cozener¹⁷⁰.

Through tattered clothes great vices do appear:

Robes and furred gowns hide all. Place sins with gold¹⁷²,

And the strong lance of justice hurtless¹⁷³ breaks:

Arm it¹⁷⁴ in rags, a pigmy’s straw does pierce it.

None does offend, none, I say, none: I’ll able ’em¹⁷⁵.

Take that of me, my friend, who have the power

To seal th’accuser’s lips. Get thee glass eyes,

And like a scurvy politician¹⁷⁸ seem

To see the things thou dost not. Now, now, now, now¹⁷⁹.

Pull off my boots: harder, harder: so.

Aside

EDGAR O, matter and impertinency¹⁸¹ mixed! Reason in madness!

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 hither¹⁸⁴.

Thou know’st the first time that we smell the air

We wail and cry. I will preach to thee: mark.

GLOUCESTER Alack, alack the day!

LEAR When we are born, we cry that we are come

To this great stage of fools. This a good block¹⁸⁹:

It were a delicate¹⁹⁰ stratagem to shoe

A troop of horse with felt: I’ll put’t in proof¹⁹¹,

And when I have stol’n upon these son-in-laws,

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—

LEAR No rescue? What, a prisoner? I am even

The natural fool¹⁹⁷ of fortune. Use me well,

You shall have ransom. Let me have surgeons:

I am cut to th’brains.

GENTLEMAN You shall have anything.

LEAR No seconds²⁰¹? All myself?

Why, this would make a man a man of salt²⁰²

To use his eyes for garden water-pots,

I will die bravely²⁰⁴, like a smug bridegroom. What?

I will be jovial²⁰⁵. Come, come, I am a king,

Masters²⁰⁶, know you that?

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, sa²⁰⁹.

Exit

Running, Attendants follow

GENTLEMAN A sight most pitiful in the meanest wretch,

Past speaking of in a king! Thou hast a daughter

Who redeems nature from the general curse²¹²

Which twain²¹³ have brought her to.

EDGAR Hail, gentle²¹⁴ sir.

GENTLEMAN Sir, speed you²¹⁵: what’s your will?

EDGAR Do you hear aught, sir, of a battle toward²¹⁶?

GENTLEMAN Most sure and vulgar²¹⁷: everyone hears that

Which can distinguish sound.

EDGAR But, by your favour²¹⁹,

How near’s the other army?

GENTLEMAN Near and on speedy foot: the main descry²²¹

Stands on the hourly thought.

EDGAR I thank you, sir: that’s all.

GENTLEMAN Though that the queen on special cause²²⁴ is here,

Her army is moved on.

Exit

EDGAR I thank you, sir.

GLOUCESTER You ever-gentle gods, take my breath from

me:

Let not my worser spirit²²⁹ 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 sorrows²³⁴,

Am pregnant to good pity²³⁵. Give me your hand:

Takes his arm

I’ll lead you to some biding²³⁶.

GLOUCESTER Hearty thanks:

The bounty and the benison²³⁸ of heaven

To boot, and boot²³⁹.

Enter Steward [Oswald]

OSWALD A proclaimed prize! Most happy²⁴⁰!

That eyeless head of thine was first framed flesh²⁴¹

To raise my fortunes. Thou old unhappy traitor,

Draws

Briefly thyself remember²⁴³: the sword is out

That must destroy thee.

GLOUCESTER Now let thy friendly hand

Edgar interposes

Put strength enough to’t.

OSWALD Wherefore, bold peasant,

Darest thou support a published²⁴⁸ traitor? Hence,

Lest that th’infection of his fortune take

Like hold on thee. Let go his arm.

EDGAR ‘Chill not let go, zir, without vurther ’casion²⁵¹.

OSWALD Let go, slave, or thou diest!

EDGAR Good gentleman, go your gait²⁵³, and let poor volk

pass. An ’chud ha’ bin zwaggered out of my life, ’twould not²⁵⁴

ha’ bin zo long as ’tis by a vortnight. Nay, come not near

th’old man: keep out, che vor ye, or I’se²⁵⁶ try whether your

costard or my ballow²⁵⁷ be the harder. ’Chill be plain with you.

OSWALD Out, dunghill!

They fight

EDGAR ’Chill pick your teeth, zir: come, no matter vor your foins²⁵⁹.

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 English party²⁶⁴. O, untimely death! Death!

He dies

EDGAR I know thee well: a serviceable²⁶⁵ 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 deathsman²⁷². Let us see.

Opens the letter

Leave²⁷³, gentle wax, and manners, blame us not:

To know our enemies’ minds we rip their hearts:

Their papers is more lawful.

Reads the letter

‘Let our reciprocal vows be remembered. You have many

opportunities to cut him off: if your will want not²⁷⁷, time and

place will be fruitfully offered. There is nothing done²⁷⁸ 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 labour²⁸¹. Your — wife, so I would say

— affectionate servant²⁸², Goneril.’

O, undistinguished space of woman’s will²⁸³!

A plot upon her virtuous husband’s life,

And the exchange my brother! Here in the sands

Thee I’ll rake up, the post unsanctified²⁸⁶

Of murderous lechers: and in the mature time²⁸⁷

With this ungracious paper strike²⁸⁸ the sight

Of the death-practised²⁸⁹ duke: for him ’tis well

That of thy death and business I can tell.

GLOUCESTER The king is mad: how stiff²⁹¹ is my vile sense,

That I stand up and have ingenious²⁹² feeling

Of my huge sorrows. Better I were distract²⁹³,

So should my thoughts be severed from my griefs,

Drum afar off

And woes by wrong imaginations²⁹⁵ lose

The knowledge of themselves.

EDGAR Give me your hand:

Far off, methinks, I hear the beaten drum.

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

Exeunt

Act 4 Scene 6

running scene 17

Enter Cordelia, Kent and Gentleman

Kent still disguised

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 me³.

KENT To be acknowledged, madam, is o’erpaid⁴.

All my reports go with the modest truth⁵,

Nor more nor clipped⁶, but so.

CORDELIA Be better suited⁷:

These weeds⁸ are memories of those worser hours,

I prithee put them off.

KENT Pardon, dear madam,

Yet to be known shortens my made intent¹¹:

My boon I make it, that you know me not¹²

Till time and I think meet¹³.

CORDELIA Then be’t so, my good lord.— How does the king?

GENTLEMAN Madam, sleeps still.

CORDELIA O you kind gods,

Cure this great breach in his abusèd nature!

Th’untuned and jarring senses, O, wind up¹⁸

Of this child-changèd¹⁹ father!

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 arrayed²³?

Enter Lear in a chair carried by Servants

GENTLEMAN Ay, madam: in the heaviness of sleep

We put fresh garments on him.

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

I doubt of his temperance²⁷.

CORDELIA O my dear father! Restoration hang

Kisses him

Thy medicine on my lips and let this kiss

Repair those violent harms that my two sisters

Have in thy reverence³¹ made!

KENT Kind and dear princess!

CORDELIA Had you not been their father, these white flakes³³

Did challenge pity of³⁴ them. Was this a face

To be opposed against the jarring winds?

Mine enemy’s dog though he had bit me

Should have stood that night against my fire,

And wast thou fain³⁸, poor father,

To hovel thee with swine and rogues forlorn³⁹

In short⁴⁰ and musty straw? Alack, alack!

’Tis wonder that thy life and wits at once⁴¹

Had not concluded all⁴².— He wakes: speak to him.

GENTLEMAN Madam, do you: ’tis fittest.

CORDELIA 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 bliss⁴⁶, but I am bound

Upon a wheel of fire, that⁴⁷ 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 Still, still, far wide⁵¹!

GENTLEMAN He’s scarce awake: let him alone awhile.

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

I am mightily abused⁵⁴. 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 pinprick. Would I were assured⁵⁷

Of my condition!

Kneels?

CORDELIA O, look upon me, sir,

And hold your hand in benediction o’er me:

You must not kneel.

Stops him from kneeling?

LEAR Pray, do not mock me:

I am a very foolish fond⁶³ 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.

Weeps

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.

GENTLEMAN Be comforted, good madam: the great rage⁸⁴,

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

Trouble him no more till further settling⁸⁶.

CORDELIA Will’t please your highness walk?

LEAR You must bear with me. Pray you now, forget and forgive:

I am old and foolish.

Exeunt

Act 5 Scene 1

running scene 18

Enter with Drum and Colours Edmund, Regan, Gentlemen and Soldiers

To a Gentleman

EDMUND Know of the duke if his last purpose¹ hold,

Or whether since he is advised by aught²

To change the course: he’s full of alteration

And self-reproving: bring his constant pleasure⁴.

[Exit Gentleman]

REGAN Our sister’s man is certainly miscarried⁵.

EDMUND ’Tis to be doubted⁶, 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 honoured¹¹ love.

REGAN But have you never found my brother’s way

To the forfended place¹³?

EDMUND No, by mine honour, madam.

REGAN I never shall endure her¹⁵: dear my lord,

Be not familiar¹⁶ with her.

EDMUND Fear not. She and the duke her husband!

Enter with Drum and Colours Albany, Goneril, Soldiers

ALBANY Our very loving sister, well be-met.

Sir, this I heard: the king is come to his daughter,

With others whom the rigour of our state²⁰

Forced to cry out²¹.

REGAN Why is this reasoned²²?

GONERIL Combine together²³ gainst the enemy,

For these domestic and particular broils²⁴

Are not the question here.

ALBANY Let’s then determine

With th’ancient of war²⁷ on our proceeding.

REGAN Sister, you’ll go with us?

GONERIL No.

REGAN ’Tis most convenient³⁰: pray, go with us.

Aside

GONERIL O, ho, I know the riddle³¹.— I will go.

Exeunt both the armies. [Albany remains]

Enter Edgar

Disguised

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

Hear me one word.

ALBANY I’ll overtake you³⁴.— Speak.

EDGAR Before you fight the battle, ope this letter³⁵:

Gives a letter

If you have victory, let the trumpet sound³⁶

For him that brought it. Wretched though I seem,

I can produce a champion³⁸ that will prove

What is avouchèd there. If you miscarry³⁹,

Your business of the world hath so an end,

And machination⁴¹ ceases. Fortune loves you.

ALBANY Stay till I have read the letter.

EDGAR I was forbid it.

When time shall serve, let but the herald cry⁴⁴

And I’ll appear again.

Exit

ALBANY Why, fare thee well: I will o’erlook⁴⁶ thy paper.

Enter Edmund

EDMUND The enemy’s in view: draw up your powers⁴⁷.

Offers a paper

Here is the guess of their true strength and forces

By diligent discovery⁴⁹, but your haste

Is now urged on you.

ALBANY We will greet the time⁵¹.

Exit

EDMUND To both these sisters have I sworn my love,

Each jealous⁵³ 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 side⁵⁸,

Her husband being alive. Now then, we’ll use

His countenance⁶⁰ for the battle, which being done,

Let her who would be rid of him devise

His speedy taking off⁶². 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 state⁶⁵

Stands on me to defend, not to debate.

Exit

Act 5 Scene 2

running scene 19

Alarum within. Enter, with Drum and Colours, Lear, Cordelia and Soldiers over the stage and exeunt. Enter Edgar and Gloucester

EDGAR Here, father¹, take the shadow of this tree

For your good host². 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’en⁷:

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:

Ripeness¹² is all: come on.

GLOUCESTER And that’s true too.

Exeunt

Act 5 Scene 3

running scene 20

Enter in conquest, with Drum and Colours, Edmund, Lear and Cordelia as prisoners, Soldiers, Captain

EDMUND Some officers take them away: good guard¹,

Until their greater pleasures² first be known

That are to censure³ them.

To Lear

CORDELIA We are not the first

Who with best meaning⁵ have incurred the worst.

For thee, oppressèd king, I am cast down⁶:

Myself could else out-frown 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 rogues¹⁴

Talk of court news, and we’ll talk with them too —

Who loses and who wins, who’s in, who’s out —

And take upon’s the mystery of things¹⁷,

As if we were God’s spies: and we’ll wear out¹⁸

In a walled prison packs and sects¹⁹ of great ones

That ebb and flow by th’moon²⁰.

EDMUND Take them away.

LEAR Upon such sacrifices²², my Cordelia,

The gods themselves throw incense²³. Have I caught thee?

He that parts us shall bring a brand from heaven²⁴

And fire us hence like foxes. Wipe thine eyes:

The good years shall devour them, flesh and fell²⁶,

Ere they shall make us weep: We’ll see ’em starved²⁷ first. Come.

Exeunt [Lear and Cordelia, guarded]

EDMUND Come hither, captain, hark.

Gives a paper

Take thou this note, go follow them to prison.

One step I have advanced thee: if thou dost

As this instructs thee, thou dost make thy way

To noble fortunes. Know thou this: that men

Are as the time is; to be tender-minded³³

Does not become³⁴ a sword. Thy great employment

Will not bear question³⁵: either say thou’lt do’t

Or thrive by other means.

CAPTAIN I’ll do’t, my lord.

EDMUND About it, and write happy³⁸ when th’hast done.

Mark, I say, instantly, and carry³⁹ it so

As I have set it down.

Exit Captain

Flourish. Enter Albany, Goneril, Regan, Soldiers

ALBANY Sir, you have showed today your valiant strain⁴¹,

And fortune led you well. You have the captives

Who were the opposites⁴³ of this day’s strife:

I do require them of you, so to use⁴⁴ them

As we shall find their merits and our safety

May equally determine.

EDMUND Sir, I thought it fit

To send the old and miserable king to some retention⁴⁸

Whose age had charms in it, whose title⁴⁹ more,

To pluck the common bosom⁵⁰ on his side

And turn our impressed lances in our eyes⁵¹

Which do command them. With him I sent the queen⁵²,

My reason all the same, and they are ready

Tomorrow, or at further space, t’appear

Where you shall hold your session⁵⁵.

ALBANY Sir, by your patience⁵⁶,

I hold you but a subject of⁵⁷ this war,

Not as a brother.

REGAN That’s as we list⁵⁹ to grace him.

Methinks our pleasure might have been demanded⁶⁰

Ere you had spoke so far. He led our powers,

Bore the commission⁶² of my place and person,

The which immediacy⁶³ may well stand up

And call itself your brother.

GONERIL Not so hot:

In his own grace⁶⁶ he doth exalt himself

More than in your addition⁶⁷.

REGAN In my rights,

By me invested, he compeers⁶⁹ the best.

ALBANY That were the most⁷⁰ if he should husband you.

REGAN Jesters do oft prove prophets.

GONERIL Holla⁷², holla!

That eye that told you so looked but asquint⁷³.

REGAN Lady, I am not well, else I should answer

To Edmund

From a full-flowing stomach⁷⁵.— General,

Take thou my soldiers, prisoners, patrimony⁷⁶:

Dispose of them, of me: the walls⁷⁷ is thine:

Witness the world⁷⁸ that I create thee here

My lord and master.

GONERIL Mean you to enjoy⁸⁰ him?

ALBANY The let-alone⁸¹ lies not in your good will.

EDMUND Nor in thine, lord.

ALBANY Half-blooded⁸³ fellow, yes.

To Edmund

REGAN Let the drum strike and prove my title thine.

ALBANY Stay yet, hear reason. Edmund, I arrest thee

On capital treason, and, in⁸⁶ thy arrest,

This gilded serpent. For⁸⁷ your claim, fair sister,

I bar it⁸⁸ in the interest of my wife:

’Tis she is subcontracted⁸⁹ to this lord,

And I, her husband, contradict your banns⁹⁰.

If you will marry, make your loves to⁹¹ me,

My lady is bespoke⁹².

GONERIL An interlude⁹³!

ALBANY Thou art armed, Gloucester: let the trumpet sound:

If none appear to prove upon thy person

Thy heinous, manifest, and many treasons,

There is my pledge: I’ll make it⁹⁷ on thy heart,

Throws down a glove

Ere I taste bread, thou art in nothing⁹⁸ less

Than I have here proclaimed thee.

REGAN Sick, O, sick!

Aside

GONERIL If not, I’ll ne’er trust medicine¹⁰¹.

EDMUND There’s my exchange: what¹⁰² in the world he’s

That names me traitor, villain-like he lies.

Throws down a glove

Call by the trumpet: he that dares approach,

On him, on you — who not? — I will maintain

My truth and honour firmly.

Enter a Herald

ALBANY A herald, ho!

To Edmund

Trust to thy single virtue¹⁰⁸, for thy soldiers,

All levied in my name, have in my name

Took their discharge.

REGAN My sickness grows upon me.

ALBANY She is not well: convey her to my tent.—

[Exit Regan, led]

Come hither, herald. Let the trumpet sound

And read out this.

A trumpet sounds

HERALD Reads ‘If any man of quality or degree¹¹⁵ within the

lists¹¹⁶ of the army will maintain upon Edmund, supposed Earl

of Gloucester, that he is a manifold traitor, let him appear by

the third sound of the trumpet: he is bold in his defence.’

First trumpet

HERALD Again!

Second trumpet

HERALD Again!

Third trumpet

Trumpet answers within

Enter Edgar armed

His helmet visor down

ALBANY Ask him his purposes, why he appears

Upon this call o’th’trumpet.

HERALD What are you?

Your name, your quality, and why you answer

This present summons?

EDGAR Know, my name is lost

By treason’s tooth bare-gnawn and canker-bit¹²⁷:

Yet am I noble as the adversary

I come to cope¹²⁹.

ALBANY Which is that adversary?

EDGAR What’s he that speaks for Edmund Earl of Gloucester?

EDMUND Himself: what say’st thou to him?

EDGAR Draw thy sword,

That, if my speech offend a noble heart,

Thy arm may do thee justice: here is mine.

Draws

Behold, it is my privilege —

The privilege of mine honours —¹³⁷

My oath and my profession. I protest¹³⁸,

Maugre thy strength, place¹³⁹, youth and eminence,

Despise thy victor sword and fire-new¹⁴⁰ fortune,

Thy valour and thy heart, thou art a traitor:

False to thy gods, thy brother and thy father,

Conspirant¹⁴³ gainst this high illustrious prince,

And from th’extremest upward¹⁴⁴ of thy head

To the descent¹⁴⁵ and dust below thy foot

A most toad-spotted¹⁴⁶ traitor. Say thou no,

This sword, this arm and my best spirits are bent¹⁴⁷

To prove upon thy heart whereto I speak,

Thou liest.

EDMUND In wisdom I should ask thy name,

But since thy outside looks so fair and warlike,

And that thy tongue some say¹⁵² of breeding breathes,

What safe and nicely¹⁵³ I might well delay

By rule of knighthood, I disdain and spurn.

Back do I toss these treasons to thy head,

With the hell-hated lie¹⁵⁶ o’erwhelm thy heart,

Which, for they yet glance by¹⁵⁷ and scarcely bruise,

This sword of mine shall give them instant way¹⁵⁸,

Where they shall rest forever. Trumpets, speak!

Draws

Alarums. Fights

Edmund falls

ALBANY Save him¹⁶⁰, save him!

GONERIL This is practice¹⁶¹, Gloucester:

By th’law of war thou wast not bound to answer

An unknown opposite: thou art not vanquished,

But cozened and beguiled¹⁶⁴.

ALBANY Shut your mouth, dame¹⁶⁵,

Or with this paper shall I stop it.— Hold, sir.—

To Goneril

Thou worse than any name, read thine own evil.

No tearing, lady: I perceive you know¹⁶⁸ it.

Shows her the letter

GONERIL Say, if I do, the laws are mine, not thine:

Who can arraign¹⁷⁰ me for’t.

Exit

ALBANY Most monstrous! O, know’st thou this paper?

EDMUND Ask me not what I know.

ALBANY Go after her: she’s desperate: govern¹⁷³ her.

[Exit a soldier]

EDMUND What you have charged me with, that have I done,

And more, much more: the time will bring it out:

To Edgar

’Tis past and so am I.— But what art thou

That hast this fortune on¹⁷⁷ me? If thou’rt noble,

I do forgive thee.

EDGAR Let’s exchange charity¹⁷⁹.

I am no less in blood than thou art, Edmund:

If more, the more th’hast¹⁸¹ wronged me.

Removes his helmet

My name is Edgar, and thy father’s son.

The gods are just, and of our pleasant¹⁸³ vices

Make instruments to plague us:

The dark and vicious place where thee he got¹⁸⁵

Cost him his eyes.

EDMUND Th’hast spoken right: ’tis true,

The wheel¹⁸⁸ is come full circle: I am here.

To Edgar

ALBANY Methought thy very gait did prophesy¹⁸⁹

A royal nobleness: I must embrace thee.

Let sorrow split my heart if ever I

Did hate thee or thy father!

EDGAR Worthy prince, I know’t.

ALBANY Where have you hid yourself?

How have you known the miseries of your father?

EDGAR By nursing them, my lord. List¹⁹⁶ a brief tale,

And when ’tis told, O, that my heart would burst!

The bloody proclamation¹⁹⁸ to escape

That followed me so near — O, our lives’ sweetness!

That we the pain of death would hourly die²⁰⁰

Rather than die at once! — taught me to shift

Into a madman’s rags, t’assume a semblance²⁰²

That very dogs disdained: and in this habit²⁰³

Met I my father with his bleeding rings²⁰⁴,

Their precious stones new lost, became his guide,

Led him, begged for him, saved him from despair²⁰⁶,

Never — O, fault! — revealed myself unto him

Until some half-hour past, when I was armed.

Not sure, though hoping, of this good success²⁰⁹,

I asked his blessing, and from first to last

Told him our pilgrimage: but his flawed²¹¹ heart —

Alack, too weak the conflict to support —

’Twixt two extremes of passion, joy and grief,

Burst smilingly.

EDMUND This speech of yours hath moved me,

And shall perchance do good: but speak you on:

You look as you had something more to say.

ALBANY If there be more, more woeful, hold it in,

For I am almost ready to dissolve²¹⁹,

Hearing of this.

Enter a Gentleman

With a bloody knife

GENTLEMAN Help, help, O, help!

EDGAR What kind of help?

ALBANY Speak, man.

EDGAR What means this bloody knife?

GENTLEMAN ’Tis hot, it smokes²²⁵:

It came even from the heart of — O, she’s dead!

ALBANY Who dead? Speak, man.

GENTLEMAN Your lady, sir, your lady; and her sister

By her is poisoned: she confesses it.

EDMUND I was contracted to them both: all three

Now marry in an instant.

EDGAR Here comes Kent.

Enter Kent

ALBANY Produce the bodies, be they alive or dead:

Goneril and Regan’s bodies brought out

This judgement of the heavens, that makes us tremble,

Sees Kent

Touches us not with pity.— O, is this he?—

To Kent

The time will not allow the compliment²³⁶

Which very manners urges.

KENT I am come

To bid my king and master aye²³⁹ goodnight:

Is he not here?

ALBANY Great thing²⁴¹ of us forgot!

Speak, Edmund, where’s the king? And where’s Cordelia?—

See’st thou this object²⁴³, Kent?

Points to the bodies

KENT Alack, why thus?

EDMUND Yet Edmund was beloved:

The one the other poisoned for my sake

And after slew herself.

ALBANY Even²⁴⁸ so. Cover their faces.

EDMUND I pant for life: some good I mean to do,

Despite of mine own nature. Quickly send —

Be brief in it — to th’castle, for my writ²⁵¹

Is on the life of Lear and on Cordelia:

Nay, send in time.

ALBANY Run, run, O, run!

EDGAR To who, my lord? Who has the office²⁵⁵?

To Edmund

Send thy token of reprieve.

EDMUND Well thought on: take my sword,

Give it the captain.

To a Gentleman

EDGAR Haste thee, for thy life.

[Exit Gentleman]

EDMUND He hath commission from thy wife and me

To hang Cordelia in the prison and

To lay the blame upon her own despair,

That she fordid²⁶³ herself.

Edmund is borne off

ALBANY The gods defend her! Bear him hence awhile.

Enter Lear with Cordelia in his arms

Gentleman and others following

LEAR Howl, howl, howl! O, you are men of stones:

Had I your tongues and eyes, I’d use them so

That heaven’s vault should crack. She’s gone for ever!

I know when one is dead and when one lives:

She’s dead as earth. Lend me a looking-glass:

If that her breath will mist or stain the stone²⁷⁰,

Why, then she lives.

KENT Is this the promised end²⁷²?

EDGAR Or image of that horror?

ALBANY Fall and cease!²⁷⁴

LEAR This feather stirs: she lives! If it be so,

It is a chance which does redeem all sorrows

That ever I have felt.

Kneels

KENT O my good master!

LEAR Prithee, away.

EDGAR ’Tis noble Kent, your friend.

LEAR A plague upon you, murderers, traitors all!

I might have saved her: now she’s gone for ever!—

Cordelia, Cordelia! Stay a little. Ha?

What is’t thou say’st?— Her voice was ever soft,

Gentle and low, an excellent thing in woman.—

I killed the slave²⁸⁶ that was a-hanging thee.

GENTLEMAN ’Tis true, my lords, he did.

LEAR Did I not, fellow?

I have seen the day, with my good biting falchion²⁸⁹

I would have made him skip: I am old now,

And these same crosses²⁹¹ spoil me.— Who are you?

Mine eyes are not o’th’best: I’ll tell you straight²⁹².

KENT If fortune brag of two she loved and hated²⁹³,

One of them we behold.

LEAR This is a dull sight²⁹⁵. Are you not Kent?

KENT The same,

Your servant Kent: where is your servant Caius²⁹⁷?

LEAR He’s a good fellow, I can tell you that:

He’ll strike, and quickly too. He’s dead and rotten.

KENT No, my good lord, I am the very man—

LEAR I’ll see that straight³⁰¹.

KENT That from your first of difference and decay³⁰²

Have followed your sad steps.

LEAR You are welcome hither.

KENT Nor no man else³⁰⁵: all’s cheerless, dark and deadly.

Your eldest daughters have fordone³⁰⁶ themselves,

And desperately³⁰⁷ are dead.

LEAR Ay, so I think.

ALBANY He knows not what he says, and vain is it³⁰⁹

That we present us to him.

Enter a Messenger

EDGAR Very bootless³¹¹.

MESSENGER Edmund is dead, my lord.

ALBANY That’s but a trifle here.

You lords and noble friends, know our intent:

What comfort to this great decay³¹⁵ may come

Shall be applied. For us, we will resign³¹⁶,

During the life of this old majesty,

To Edgar and Kent

To him our absolute power:— you, to your rights

With boot and such addition³¹⁹ as your honours

Have more than merited. All friends shall taste

The wages of their virtue, and all foes

The cup of their deservings.— O, see, see³²²!

LEAR And my poor fool³²³ is hanged! No, no, no life?

Why should a dog, a horse, a rat have life,

And thou no breath at all? Thou’lt come no more,

Never, never, never, never, never!

Pray you undo this button: thank you, sir³²⁷.

Do you see this? Look on her, look, her lips,

Look there, look there!

He dies

EDGAR He faints! My lord, my lord!

KENT Break, heart, I prithee, break.

EDGAR Look up, my lord.

KENT Vex not his ghost³³³: O, let him pass! He hates him

That would upon the rack³³⁴ of this tough world

Stretch him out longer³³⁵.

EDGAR He is gone, indeed.

KENT The wonder is he hath endured so long:

He but usurped³³⁸ his life.

ALBANY Bear them from hence. Our present business

Is general woe.—

To Kent and Edgar

Friends of my soul, you twain

Rule in this realm, and the gored state sustain³⁴².

KENT I have a journey³⁴³, sir, shortly to go:

My master calls me, I must not say no.

EDGAR The weight of this sad time we must obey:

Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say.

The oldest hath borne most: we that are young

Shall never see so much nor live so long.

Exeunt with a dead march