SCENE I.
A Heath.
A Storm is heard, with Thunder and Lightning.
Enter Kent, and a Gentleman, meeting.
Kent.
Who's here, beside foul weather?
Gent.
One minded like the weather, most unquietly.
Kent.
I know you; Where's the king?
Gent.
Contending with the fretful element9 note:
Bids the wind blow the earth into the sea,
Or swell the curled waters 'bove the main1 note
,
That things might change, or cease: tears his white hair2 note
;
-- 134 --
Which the impetuous blasts, with eyeless rage,
Catch in their fury, and make nothing of:
Strives in his little world of man to out-scorn
The to-and-fro-conflicting wind and rain3 note
.
This night, wherein the cub-drawn bear would couch4 note
,
The lion and the belly-pinched wolf
Keep their fur dry, unbonneted he runs,
And bids what will take all5 note
.
-- 135 --
Kent.
But who is with him?
Gent.
None but the fool; who labours to outjest
His heart-struck injuries.
Kent.
Sir, I do know you;
And dare, upon the warrant of my art6 note
,
Commend a dear thing to you. There is division,
Although as yet the face of it be cover'd
With mutual cunning, 'twixt Albany and Cornwall;
Who have (as who have not7 note
, that their great stars
Thron'd and set high?) servants, who seem no less;
Which are to France the spies and speculations
Intelligent of our state; what hath been seen8 note,
Either in snuffs and packings9 note
of the dukes;
-- 136 --
Or the hard rein which both of them have borne
Against the old kind king; or something deeper,
Whereof, perchance, these are but furnishings1 note
;—
[But, true it is2 note, from France there comes a power
Into this scatter'd kingdom; who already,
Wise in our negligence, have secret feet
In some of our best ports3 note
, and are at point
-- 137 --
To show their open banner.—Now to you:
If on my credit you dare build so far
To make your speed to Dover, you shall find
Some that will thank you, making just report
Of how unnatural and bemadding sorrow
The king hath cause to plain.
I am a gentleman of blood and breeding;
And, from some knowledge and assurance, offer
This office to you.]
Gent.
I will talk further with you.
Kent.
No, do not.
For confirmation that I am much more
Than my out wall, open this purse, and take
What it contains: If you shall see Cordelia,
(As fear not but you shall4 note,) show her this ring;
And she will tell you who your fellow is
That yet you do not know. Fye on this storm!
I will go seek the king.
Gent.
Give me your hand: Have you no more to say?
Kent.
Few words, but, to effect, more than all yet;
-- 138 --
That, when we have found the king, (in which your pain
That way; I'll this;) he that first5 note
lights on him,
Holla the other.
[Exeunt severally.
SCENE II.
Another Part of the Heath. Storm continues.
Enter Lear and Fool.
Lear.
Blow, wind, and crack your cheeks6 note
! rage! blow!
You cataracts, and hurricanoes, spout
Till you have drench'd our steeples, drown'd the cocks!
You sulphurous and thought-executing7 note fires,
-- 139 --
Vaunt-couriers8 note
to oak-cleaving thunder-bolts,
Singe my white head! And thou, all-shaking thunder,
Strike flat9 note the thick rotundity o' the world!
Crack nature's moulds, all germens spill at once1 note
,
That make ingrateful man!
Fool.
O nuncle, court holy-water2 note
in a dry house
-- 140 --
is better than this rain-water out o'door. Good
nuncle, in, and ask thy daughter's blessing; here's
a night pities neither wise men nor fools.
Lear.
Rumble thy bellyfull! Spit, fire! spout, rain!
Nor rain, wind, thunder, fire, are my daughters:
I tax* note not you, you elements, with unkindness,
I never gave you kingdom, call'd you children,
You owe me no subscription3 note
; why then let fall
Your horrible pleasure; here I stand, your slave,
A poor, infirm, weak, and despis'd old man:—
But yet I call you servile ministers,
That have with two pernicious daughters join'd† note
Your high-engender'd battles‡ note, 'gainst a head
So old and white as this. O! O! 'tis foul4 note!
Fool.
He that has a house to put his head in,
has a good head-piece.
The cod-piece that will house,
Before the head has any,
The head and he shall louse;—
So beggars marry many5 note
.
-- 141 --
The man that makes his toe
What he his heart should make,
Shall of a corn cry woe6 note
,
And turn his sleep to wake.
—for there was never yet fair woman, but she made
mouths in a glass.
Enter Kent.
Lear.
No, I will be the pattern of all patience,
I will say nothing7 note
.
Kent.
Who's there?
Fool.
Marry, here's grace, and a cod-piece;
that's a wise man, and a fool8 note
.
Kent.
Alas, sir, are you here9 note? things that love night,
Love not such nights as these; the wrathful skies
Gallow the very wanderers of the dark1 note
,
-- 142 --
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
The affliction, nor the fear2 note.
Lear.
Let the great gods,
That keep this dreadful pother3 note
o'er our heads,
Find out their enemies now. Tremble, thou wretch,
That hast within thee undivulged crimes,
Unwhipp'd of justice: Hide thee, thou bloody hand;
Thou perjur'd, and thou simular man* note of virtue
That art incestuous: Caitiff, to pieces shake,
That under covert and convenient seeming4 note
Hast practis'd on man's life!—Close pent-up guilts,
Rive your concealing continents5 note
, and cry
-- 143 --
These dreadful summoners grace6 note
.—I am a man7 note
,
More sinn'd against, than sinning.
Kent.
Alack, bare-headed8 note!
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 house,
(More hard than is the stone* note whereof 'tis rais'd;
Which even but now, demanding after you,
-- 144 --
Denied me to come in,) return, and force
Their scanted 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 fellow?
The art of our necessities is strange,
That can make vile things precious. Come, your hovel,
Poor fool and knave, I have one part in my heart9 note
That's sorry yet for thee1 note
.
Fool.
He that has a little tiny wit,—
With heigh, ho, the wind and the rain2 note
,—
Must make content with his fortunes fit;
For the rain it raineth every day.
Lear.
True, my good boy.—Come, bring us to this hovel.
[Exeunt Lear and Kent.
Fool.
This is a brave night to cool a courtezan3 note.
—I'll speak a prophecy ere I go:
When priests are more in word than matter;
When brewers mar their malt with water;
When nobles are their tailors' tutors4 note;
No hereticks burn'd, but wenches' suitors5 note
:
-- 145 --
When every case in law is right;
No squire in debt, nor no poor knight;
When slanders do not live in tongues;
Nor cutpurses come not to throngs;
When usurers tell their gold i' the field;
And bawds and whores do churches build;—
Then shall the realm of Albion
Come to great confusion6 note
.
Then comes the time7 note, who lives to see't,
That going shall be us'd with feet.
This prophecy Merlin shall make; for I live before
his time.
[Exit.
-- 146 --
SCENE III.
A Room in Gloster's Castle.
Enter Gloster and Edmund.
Glo.
Alack, alack, Edmund, I like not this unnatural
dealing: When I desired their leave that I
might pity him, they took from me the use of mine
own house; charged me, on pain of their perpetual
displeasure, neither to speak of him, entreat for him,
nor any way sustain him.
Edm.
Most savage, and unnatural!
Glo.
Go to; 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 closet:
these injuries the king now bears will be revenged
home; there is part of a power already
footed* note: we must incline to the king. I will seek
him, and privily relieve him: go you, and maintain
talk with the duke, that my charity be not of 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
some strange thing toward, Edmund; pray you, be
careful.
[Exit.
Edm.
This courtesy, forbid thee, shall the duke
Instantly know; and of that letter too:—
This seems a fair deserving, and must draw me
That which my father loses; no less than all;
The younger rises, when the old doth fall.
[Exit.
-- 147 --
SCENE IV.
A Part of the Health, with a Hovel.
Enter Lear, Kent, and Fool.
Kent.
Here is the place, my lord; good my lord, enter:
The tyranny of the open night's too rough
For nature to endure.
[Storm still.
Lear.
Let me alone.
Kent.
Good my lord, enter here.
Lear.
Wilt break my heart8 note
?
Kent.
I'd rather break mine own: Good my lord, enter.
Lear.
Thou think'st 'tis much, that this contentious* note storm
Invades us to the skin: so 'tis to thee;
But where the greater malady is fix'd,
The lesser is scarce felt9 note
. Thou'dst shun a bear:
But if thy flight lay toward the raging sea1 note
,
-- 148 --
Thou'dst meet the bear i' the mouth. When the mind's free,
The body's delicate: the tempest in my mind
Doth from my senses take all feeling else,
Save what beats there.—Filial ingratitude!
Is it not as this mouth should tear this hand,
For lifting food to't?—But I will punish home:—
No, I will weep no more.—In such a night
To shut me out!—Pour on; I will endure2 note
:—
In such a night as this! O Regan, Goneril!—
Your old kind father, whose frank heart gave you all3 note
,—
O, that way madness lies; let me shun that;
No more of that,—
Kent.
Good my lord, enter here.
Lear.
Pr'ythee, 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:
-- 149 --
In, boy; go first4 note.—[To the Fool.] You houseless poverty,—
Nay, get thee in. I'll pray, and then I'll sleep.—
[Fool goes in.
Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are,
That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm* note,
How shall your houseless heads, and unfed sides,
Your loop'd and window'd raggedness5 note
, defend you
-- 150 --
From seasons such as these? O, I have ta'en
Too little care of this! Take physick, pomp;
Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel;
That thou may'st shake the superflux to them,
And show the heavens more just6 note
.
Edg. [Within.]
Fathom7 note and half, fathom and half! Poor Tom!
[The Fool runs out from the Hovel.
Fool.
Come not in here, nuncle, here's a spirit.
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 grumble there i' the straw?
Come forth.
Enter Edgar, disguised as a Madman.
Edg.
Away! the foul fiend follows me!—
Through the sharp hawthorn blows the cold wind* note.—
-- 151 --
Humph! go to thy cold bed8 note
, and warm thee.
Lear.
Hast thou given all to thy two daughters9 note?
And art thou come to this?
Edg.
Who gives any thing to poor Tom? whom
the foul fiend hath led through fire and through
flame* note 1 note, through ford and whirlpool, over bog and
quagmire; that hath laid knives under his pillow2 note
,
-- 152 --
and halters in his pew; set ratsbane by his porridge;
made him proud of heart, to ride on a bay
trotting-horse over four-inched bridges, to course
his own shadow for a traitor:—Bless thy five wits3 note
!
-- 153 --
Tom's a-cold.—O, do de, do de, do de.—Bless thee
from whirlwinds, star-blasting, and taking4 note
! Do
poor Tom some charity, whom the foul fiend vexes:
There could I have him now,—and there,—and
there,—and there again, and there.
[Storm continues.
Lear.
What, have his daughters brought him to this pass?—
Could'st thou save nothing? Did'st thou give them all?
Fool.
Nay, he reserved a blanket, else we had
been all shamed.
Lear.
Now, all the plagues that in the pendulous air
Hang fated o'er men's faults5 note
, light on thy daughters!
Kent.
He hath no daughters, sir.
Lear.
Death, traitor! nothing could have subdu'd nature
To such a lowness, but his unkind daughters.—
Is it the fashion, that discarded fathers
Should have thus little mercy on their flesh?
Judicious punishment! 'twas this flesh begot
Those pelican daughters6 note
.
-- 154 --
Edg.
Pillicock sat6 note
on pillicock's-hill;—
Halloo, halloo, loo, loo!
Fool.
This cold night will turn us all to fools
and madmen.
Edg.
Take heed o' the foul fiend: Obey thy parents;
keep thy word justly7 note; swear not; commit
not8 note
with man's sworn spouse; set not thy sweet
heart on proud array: Tom's a-cold.
Lear.
What hast thou been?
Edg.
A serving-man, proud in heart and mind;
that curled my hair9 note
; wore gloves in my cap1 note
, served
-- 155 --
the lust of my mistress's 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 in the contriving of lust, and waked
to do it: Wine loved I deeply; dice dearly; and in
woman, out-paramoured the Turk: False of heart,
light of ear2 note, bloody of hand; Hog in sloth, fox
in stealth, wolf in greediness3 note, dog in madness, lion
-- 156 --
in prey. Let not the creaking of shoes, nor the
rustling of silks, betray thy poor heart to women:
Keep thy foot out of brothels, thy hand out of
plackets4 note
, thy pen from lenders' books5 note
, and defy
the foul fiend.—Still through the hawthorn blows
the cold wind: Says suum, mun, ha no nonny, dolphin
my boy, my boy, sessa; let him trot by6 note
.
[Storm still continues.
-- 157 --
Lear.
Why, thou were better in thy grave, than
to answer with thy uncovered body this extremity
-- 158 --
of the skies.—Is man no more than this? Consider
him well: Thou owest the worm no silk, the beast
no hide, the sheep no wool, the cat no perfume:—
Ha! here's three of us are sophisticated!—Thou
art the thing itself: unaccommodated man is no
more but such a poor, bare, forked animal as thou
art.—Off, off, you lendings:—Come; unbutton
here7 note
.—
[Tearing off his clothes.
Fool.
Pr'ythee, nuncle, be contented; this is a
naughty night to swim in8 note
.—Now a little fire in a
wild field were like an old lecher's heart9 note
; a small
-- 159 --
spark, all the rest of his body cold.—Look, here
comes a walking fire.
Edg.
This is the foul fiend Flibbertigibbet1 note
: he
begins at curfew, and walks till the first cock2 note
; he
gives the web and the pin3 note
, squints the eye, and
-- 160 --
makes the hare-lip; mildews the white wheat, and
hurts the poor creature of earth.
Saint Withold footed thrice the wold;
He met the night-mare, and her nine-fold;
Bid her alight,
And her troth plight,
And, aroint thee, witch, aroint thee4 note
!
-- 161 --
Kent.
How fares your grace?
Enter Gloster, with a Torch.
Lear.
What's he?
-- 162 --
Kent.
Who's there? What is't you seek?
Glo.
What are you there? Your names?
Edg.
Poor Tom; that eats the swimming frog,
the toad, the tadpole, the wall-newt, and the water5 note;
that in the fury of his heart, when the foul
fiend rages, eats cow-dung for sallets; swallows
the old rat, and the ditch-dog; drinks the green
mantle of the standing pool; who is whipped from
tything to tything6 note, and stocked, punished, and
imprisoned7 note; who hath had three suits to his back,
-- 163 --
six shirts to his body, horse to ride, and weapon to
wear,—
But mice, and rats, and such small deer,
Have been Tom's food for seven long year8 note
.
Beware my follower:—Peace, Smolkin; peace9 note, thou fiend!
Glo.
What, hath your grace no better company?
Edg.
The prince of darkness is a gentleman1 note;
Modo he's call'd, and Mahu2 note
.
-- 164 --
Glo.
Our flesh and blood, my lord, is grown so vile,
That it doth hate what gets it.
Edg.
Poor Tom's a-cold.
Glo.
Go in with me; my duty cannot suffer3 note
To 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 ventur'd to come seek you out,
And bring you where both fire and food is ready.
Lear.
First let me talk with this philosopher:—
What is the cause of thunder?
Kent.
Good my lord, take his offer;
Go into the house.
Lear.
I'll talk a word with this same learned* note Theban4 note:—
What is your study?
Edg.
How to prevent the fiend, and to kill vermin.
Lear.
Let me ask you one word in private.
Kent.
Impórtune him once more to go, my lord,
His wits begin to unsettle5 note
.
-- 165 --
Glo.
Can'st thou blame him?
His daughters seek his death:—Ah, that good Kent!—
He said it would be thus:—Poor banish'd man!—
Thou say'st, the king grows mad; I'll tell thee, friend,
I am almost mad myself: I had a son,
Now outlaw'd from my blood; he sought my life,
But lately, very late; I lov'd him, friend,—
No father his son dearer: true to tell thee,
[Storm continues.
The grief hath craz'd my wits. What a night's this!
I do beseech your grace,—
Lear.
O, cry you mercy,
Noble philosopher, your company.
Edg.
Tom's a-cold.
Glo.
In fellow, there, to the hovel: keep thee warm.
Lear.
Come, let's in all.
Kent.
This way, my lord.
Lear.
With him;
I will keep still with my philosopher.
Kent.
Good my lord, sooth him; let him take the fellow.
Glo.
Take him you on.
Kent.
Sirrah, come on; go along with us.
Lear.
Come, good Athenian.
Glo.
No words, no words:
Hush.
-- 166 --
Edg.
Child Rowland to the dark tower came6 note
,
His word was still,—Fie, foh, and fum,
I smell the blood of a British man.
[Exeunt.
-- 167 --
SCENE V.
A Room in Gloster's Castle.
Enter Cornwall and Edmund.
Corn.
I will have my revenge, ere I depart his house.
Edm.
How, my lord, I may be censured, that
nature thus gives way to loyalty, something fears
me to think of.
Corn.
I now perceive, it was not altogether your
brother's evil disposition made him seek his death;
but a provoking merit7 note
, set a-work by a reproveable
badness in himself.
Edm.
How malicious is my fortune, that I must
repent to be just! This is the letter he spoke of,
which approves him an intelligent party to the advantages
-- 168 --
of France. O heavens! that this treason
were not, or not I the detector!
Corn.
Go with me to the duchess.
Edm.
If the matter of this paper be certain, you
have mighty business in hand.
Corn.
True, or false, it hath made thee earl of
Gloster. Seek out where thy father is, that he may
be ready for our apprehension.
Edm. [Aside.]
If I find him comforting8 note
the
king, it will stuff his suspicion more fully.—I will
persevere in my course of loyalty, though the conflict
be sore between that and my blood.
Corn.
I will lay trust upon thee; and thou shalt
find a dearer* note father in my love.
[Exeunt.
SCENE VI.
A Chamber in a Farm-House, adjoining the Castle.
Enter Gloster, Lear, Kent, Fool, and Edgar.
Glo.
Here is better than the open air; take it
thankfully: I will piece out the comfort with what
addition I can: I will not be long from you.
Kent.
All the power of his wits has given way
to his impatience:—The gods reward your kindness!
[Exit Gloster.
Edg.
Frateretto calls me; and tells me, Nero is
an angler9 note
in the lake of darkness. Pray, innocent1 note
,
and beware the foul fiend.
-- 169 --
Fool.
Pr'ythee, nuncle, tell me2 note
, whether a
madman be a gentleman, or a yeoman?
Lear.
A king, a king!
Fool3 note.
No; he's a yeoman, that has a gentleman
to his son: for he's a mad yeoman, that sees his son
a gentleman before him.
Lear.
To have a thousand with red burning spits
Come whizzing in upon them4 note
:—
-- 170 --
Edg.4 note
The foul fiend bites my back.
Fool.
He's mad, that trusts in the tameness of a
wolf, a horse's health5 note
, a boy's love, or a whore's
oath.
Lear.
It shall be done, I will arraign them straight:—
Come, sit thou here, most learned justicer6 note
;—
[To Edgar.
Thou, sapient sir, sit here. [To the Fool.]—Now, you she foxes!—
Edg.
Look, where he stands and glares!—
Wantest thou eyes7 note at trial, madam8 note?
-- 171 --
Come o'er the bourn, Bessy, to me9 note
:—
Fool.
Her boat hath a leak,
And she must not speak
Why she dares not come over to thee.
-- 172 --
Edg.
The foul fiend haunts poor Tom in the
voice of a nightingale1 note. Hopdance cries in Tom's
belly2 note
for two white herring3 note. Croak not, black
angel; I have no food for thee.
-- 173 --
Kent.
How do you, sir? Stand you not so amaz'd:
Will you lie down and rest upon the cushions?
Lear.
I'll see their trial first:—Bring in the evidence.—
Thou robed man of justice, take thy place;—
[To Edgar.
And thou, his yoke-fellow of equity,
[To the Fool.
Bench by his side:—You are of the commission,
Sit you too.
[To Kent.
Edg.
Let us deal justly.
Sleepest, or wakest thou, jolly shephérd4 note
?
Thy sheep be in the corn;
And for one blast of thy minikin mouth,
Thy sheep shall take no harm.
Pur5 note! the cat is grey.
-- 174 --
Lear.
Arraign her first; 'tis Goneril. I here
take my oath before this honourable assembly, she
kicked the poor king her father.
Fool.
Come hither, mistress; Is your name
Goneril?
Lear.
She cannot deny it.
Fool.
Cry you mercy, I took you for a joint-stool6 note.
Lear.
And here's another, whose warp'd looks proclaim
What store her heart is made of.—Stop her there!
Arms, arms, sword, fire!—Corruption in the place!
False justicer, why hast thou let her 'scape?
Edg.
Bless thy five wits!
Kent.
O pity!—Sir, where is the patience now,
That you so oft have boasted to retain?
Edg.
My tears begin to take his part so much,
They'll mar my counterfeiting.
[Aside.
Lear.
The little dogs and all,
Tray, Blanch, and Sweet-heart, see, they bark at me7 note
.
Edg.
Tom will throw his head at them:—
Avaunt, you curs!
Be thy mouth or black or white8 note,
Tooth that poisons if it bite;
Mastiff, grey-hound, mongrel grim,
Hound, or spaniel, brach, or lym9 note
;
-- 175 --
Or bobtail tike1 note
, or trundle-tail2 note
;
Tom will make them3 note weep and wail:
-- 176 --
For, with throwing thus my head,
Dogs leap the hatch, and all are fled.
Do de, de, de. Sessa. Come4 note
, march to wakes and
fairs, and market towns:—Poor Tom, thy horn is
dry5 note
.
-- 177 --
Lear.
Then let them anatomize Regan, see
what breeds about her heart: Is there any cause in
nature, that makes these hard hearts* note?—You, sir,
-- 178 --
I entertain you for one of my hundred; only, I do
not like the fashion of your garments: you will
say, they are Persian attire6 note
* note; but let them be
changed.
[To Edgar.
Kent.
Now, good my lord, lie here7 note
, and rest
awhile.
Lear.
Make no noise, make no noise; draw the
curtains: So, so, so: We'll go to supper i' the
morning: So, so, so.
Fool.
And I'll go to bed at noon8 note.
Re-enter Gloster.
Glo.
Come hither, friend: Where is the king my master?
Kent.
Here, sir; but trouble him not, his wits are gone.
Glo.
Good friend, I pr'ythee take him in thy arms;
I have o'er-heard a plot of death upon him:
There is a litter ready; lay him in't,
And drive towards Dover, friend, where thou shalt meet
Both welcome and protection. Take up thy master:
If thou should'st dally half an hour, his life,
-- 179 --
With thine, and all that offer to defend him,
Stand in assured loss: Take up, take up9 note;
And follow me, that will to some provision
Give thee quick conduct.
[Kent.
Oppress'd nature sleeps1 note
:—
This rest might yet have balm'd thy broken senses2 note
,
Which, if convenience will not allow,
Stand in hard cure.—Come, help to bear thy master;
Thou must not stay behind.
[To the Fool.
Glo.
Come, come, away.
[Exeunt Kent, Gloster, and the Fool, bearing off the King.
Edg.
When we our betters see bearing our woes,
We scarcely think our miseries our foes.
-- 180 --
Who alone suffers, suffers most i' the mind;
Leaving free things3 note, and happy shows, behind:
But then the mind much sufferance doth o'erskip,
When grief hath mates, and bearing fellowship4 note
.
How light and portable my pain seems now,
When that which makes me bend, makes the king bow;
He childed, as I father'd!—Tom, away:
Mark the high noises5 note
; and thyself bewray6 note
,
-- 181 --
When false opinion, whose wrong thought defiles thee7 note,
In thy just proof, repeals, and reconciles thee.
What will hap more to-night, safe scape the king!
Lurk, lurk.]
[Exit.
SCENE VII.
A Room in Gloster's Castle.
Enter Cornwall, Regan, Goneril, Edmund, and Servants.
Corn.
Post speedily to my lord your husband;
show him this letter:—the army of France is
landed:—Seek out the villain Gloster.
[Exeunt some of the Servants.
Reg.
Hang him instantly.
Gon.
Pluck out his eyes.
Corn.
Leave him to my displeasure.—Edmund,
keep you our sister company; the revenges we are
bound to take upon your traitorous father, are not
fit for your beholding. Advise the duke, where
you are going, to a most festinate preparation8 note; we
are bound to the like. Our posts shall be swift,
and intelligent betwixt us9 note
. Farewell, dear sister;
—farewell, my lord of Gloster1 note.
-- 182 --
Enter Steward.
How now? Where's the king?
Stew.
My lord of Gloster hath convey'd him hence:
Some five or six and thirty of his knights,
Hot questrists after him2 note, met him at gate;
Who, with some other of the lord's dependants,
Are gone with him towards Dover: where they boast
To have well-armed friends.
Corn.
Get horses for your mistress.
Gon.
Farewell, sweet lord, and sister.
[Exeunt Goneril and Edmund.
Corn.
Edmund, farewell.—Go, seek the traitor Gloster,
Pinion him like a thief, bring him before us:
[Exeunt other Servants.
Though well we may not pass upon his life
Without the form of justice; yet our power
Shall do a courtesy to our wrath3 note
, which men
-- 183 --
May blame, but not control. Who's there? The traitor?
Re-enter Servants, with Gloster.
Reg.
Ingrateful fox! 'tis he.
Corn.
Bind fast his corky arms4 note
.
Glo.
What mean your graces?—Good my friends, consider
You are my guests: do me no foul play, friends.
Corn.
Bind him, I say.
[Servants bind him.
Reg.
Hard, hard:—O filthy traitor!
Glo.
Unmerciful lady as you are, I am none5 note.
Corn.
To this chair bind him:—Villain, thou shalt find—
[Regan plucks his Beard.
Glo.
By the kind gods6 note
, 'tis most ignobly done
To pluck me by the beard.
-- 184 --
Reg.
So white, and such a traitor!
Glo.
Naughty lady,
These hairs, which thou dost ravish from my chin,
Will quicken7 note, and accuse thee: I am your host;
With robbers' hands, my hospitable favours8 note
You should not ruffle thus. What will you do?
Corn.
Come, sir, what letters had you late from France?
Reg.
Be simple-answer'd9 note, for we know the truth.
Corn.
And what confederacy have you with the traitors
Late footed in the kingdom?
Reg.
To whose hands have you sent the lunatick king,
Speak.
Glo.
I have a letter guessingly set down,
Which came from one that's of a neutral heart,
And not from one oppos'd.
Corn.
Cunning.
Reg.
And false.
Corn.
Where hast thou sent the king?
Glo.
To Dover.
Reg.
Wherefore
-- 185 --
To Dover? Wast thou not charg'd at peril1 note—
Corn.
Wherefore to Dover? Let him first answer that.
Glo.
I am tied to the stake2 note
, and I must stand the course3 note.
Reg.
Wherefore to Dover?
Glo.
Because I would not see thy cruel nails
Pluck out his poor old eyes; nor thy fierce sister
In his anointed flesh stick boarish fangs4 note
.
The sea, with such a storm as his bare head
In hell-black night endur'd, would have buoy'd up,
And quench'd the stelled* note fires: yet, poor old heart,
He holp the heavens to rain5 note.
If wolves had at thy gate howl'd that stern time6 note
,
Thou should'st have said, Good porter, turn the key;
-- 186 --
All cruels else subscrib'd7 note:—But I shall see
The winged vengeance overtake such children.
Corn.
See it shalt thou never:—Fellows, hold the chair:—
Upon these eyes8 note
of thine I'll set my foot.
[Gloster is held down in his Chair, while
Cornwall plucks out one of his Eyes, and
sets his Foot on it.
Glo.
He, that will think to live till he be old,
Give me some help:—O cruel! O ye gods!
Reg.
One side will mock another; the other too.
Corn.
If you see vengeance,—
Serv.
Hold your hand, my lord:
I have serv'd you ever since I was a child;
But better service have I never done you,
Than now to bid you hold.
Reg.
How now, you dog?
Serv.
If you did wear a beard upon your chin,
I'd shake it on this quarrel: What do you mean?
-- 187 --
Corn.
My villain9 note!
[Draws and runs at him.
Serv.
Nay, then come on, and take the chance of anger.
[Draws. They fight. Cornwall is wounded.
Reg.
Give me thy sword.—[To another Serv.] A peasant stand up thus!
[Snatches a Sword, comes behind, and stabs him.
Serv.
O, I am slain!—My lord, you have one eye left
To see some mischief on him:—O!
[Dies.
Corn.
Lest it see more, prevent it:—Out, vile jelly!
Where is thy lustre now?
[Tears out Gloster's other Eye, and throws it on the Ground.
Glo.
All dark and comfortless.—Where's my son Edmund?
Edmund, enkindle* note all the sparks of nature,
To quit this horrid act.
Reg.
Out, treacherous villain!
Thou call'st on him that hates thee: it was he
That made the overture of thy treasons1 note to us;
Who is too good to pity thee.
Glo.
O my follies!
Then Edgar was abus'd.—
Kind gods, forgive me that, and prosper him!
Reg.
Go, thrust him out at gates, and let him smell
His way to Dover.—How is't, my lord? How look you?
-- 188 --
Corn.
I have receiv'd a hurt:—Follow me, lady.
Turn out that eyeless villain;—throw this slave
Upon the dunghill.—Regan, I bleed apace:
Untimely comes this hurt: Give me your arm.
[Exit Cornwall, led by Regan;—Servants
unbind Gloster, and lead him out.
1 Serv.
I'll never care what wickedness I do2 note
,
If this man comes to good.
2 Serv.
If she live long,
And, in the end, meet the old course of death3 note,
Women will all turn monsters.
1 Serv.
Let's follow the old earl, and get the Bedlam
To lead him where he would; his roguish* note madness
Allows itself to any thing.
2 Serv.
Go thou; I'll fetch some flax4 note
, and whites of eggs,
-- 189 --
To apply to his bleeding face. Now, heaven help him!
[Exeunt severally.
James Boswell [1821], The plays and poems of William Shakspeare, with the corrections and illustrations of various commentators: comprehending A Life of the Poet, and an enlarged history of the stage, by the late Edmond Malone. With a new glossarial index (J. Deighton and Sons, Cambridge) [word count] [S10201].
