Cordelia.
O ye kind gods!
Cure this great breach in his abused nature!
Th'untun'd and jarring senses, Oh, wind up
Of this child-changed father!

Phys.
Be by, good madam, when we do awake him;
I doubt not of his temperance.

Cor.
O my dear father! restauration, hang
Thy medicine on my lips; and let this kiss
Repair those violent harms, that my two sisters
Have in thy reverence made!

Phys.
Kind and dearest princess!

Cor.
O Regan! Gonerill, inhuman sisters!
Had he not been your father, these white flakes
Did challenge pity of you. Was this a face
To be expos'd against the warring winds?
To stand against the deep, dread-bolted thunder?
In the most terrible and nimble stroke
Of quick, cross lightning?—My very enemy's dog,
Tho' he had bit me, should have stood that night
Against my fire: and wast thou fain, poor father,
To hovel thee
In short and musty straw? Alack, alack!
'Tis wonder, that thy life and wits, at once,
Had not concluded all.—He wakes; speak to him.

Phys.
Madam, do you; 'tis fittest?

Cor.
How does my royal lord? how fares your Majesty?

Lear.
You do me wrong, to take me out o'th' grave.
Ha! is this too a world of cruelty!
I know my privilege; think not that I will
Be treated like a wretched mortal! No.
No more of that!

Cor.
Speak to me, sir, who am I?

Lear.
Thou art a soul in bliss; but I am bound
Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears
Do scald like molten lead.

Cor.
Sir, do you know me?

Lear.
You are a spirit, I know; when did you die?

Cor.
Still, still, far wide—

Phys.
He's scarce awake; he'll soon grow more compos'd.

Lear.
Where have I been? where am I? fair day-light?
I'm mightily abus'd; I should even die with pity,
To see another thus. I know not what to say;
I will not swear these are my hands:
Would I were assur'd of my condition!

Cor.
O look upon me, sir,
And hold your hand in benediction o'er me.
Nay, Sir, you must not kneel.

Lear.
Pray, do not mock me;
I am a very foolish fond old man,
Fourscore and upward; and to deal plainly,
I fear, I am not in my perfect mind.

Cor.
Ah then farewel to patience! witness for me,
Ye mighty pow'rs, I ne'er complain'd till now!

Lear.
Methinks, I should know you, and know this man.
Yet I am doubtful: for I'm mainly ignorant,
What place this is; and all the skill I have,
Remembers not these garments; nay, I know not
Where I did sleep last night. Do not laugh at me,

For, as I am a man, I think, this lady
To be my child Cordelia.

Cor.
O my dear, dear father!

Lear.
Be your tears wet? yes faith; pray do not weep.
I know I have giv'n thee cause, and am so humbled
With crosses since, that I cou'd ask
Forgiveness of thee, were it possible
That thou cou'dst grant it;
If thou hast poison for me I will drink it,
Bless thee, and die.

Cor.
O pity, sir, a bleeding heart, and cease
This killing language.

Lear.
Tell me, Friends, where am I?

Phys.
In your own kingdom, sir.

Lear.
Do not abuse me.

Phys.
Be comforted, good madam, for the violence
Of his distemper's past; we'll lead him in,
Nor trouble him, 'till he is better settled.
Wil't please you, sir, walk into freer air?

Lear.

You must bear with me; pray you now, forget and forgive! I am old and foolish.

Cor.
The gods restore you!—hark I hear afar
The beaten Drum. Oh! for an arm
Like the fierce Thunderer's, when the Earth-born sons
Storm'd heav'n, to fight this injur'd father's battle!
That I cou'd shift my sex, and dye me deep
In his opposer's blood! but, as I may,
With women's weapons, piety and pray'rs,
I'll aid his cause.—You never-erring gods
Fight on his side, and thunder on his foes
Such tempests as his poor ag'd head sustain'd:
Your Image suffers when a monarch bleeds:
'Tis your own cause; for that your succours bring;
Revenge yourselves, and right an injur'd king! [Exit.

Bastard in his Tent.

Bast.
To both these sisters have I sworn my love,
Each jealous of the other, as the stung
Are of the adder;—neither can be held,
If both remain alive.—Where shall I fix?
Cornwall is dead, and Regan's empty bed
Seems cast by fortune for me—But bright Gonerill,
Brings yet untasted beauty; I will use
Her husband's count'nance for the battle, then
Usurp at once his bed and throne. [Enter Officers.
My trusty scouts, you're well return'd; have ye descry'd
The strength and posture of the enemy?

Off.
We have, and were surpris'd to find
The banish'd Kent return'd, and at their head;
Your brother Edgar on the rear; old Glo'ster
(A moving spectacle) led through the ranks,
Whose pow'rful tongue, and more prevailing wrongs,
Have so enrag'd their rustic spirit, that with
Th' approaching dawn we must expect a battle.

Bast.
You bring a welcome hearing. Each to his charge;
Line well your ranks, and stand on your award.
To night repose you; and i'th' morn we'll give
The sun a sight that shall be worth his rising. [Exeunt. Scene 2 SCENE, a Valley near the Camp. Enter Edgar and Glocester.

Edg.
Here, sir, take you the shadow of this tree
For your good host; pray that the right may thrive:
If ever I return to you again,
I'll bring you comfort. [Exit.

Glo.
Thanks, friendly sir;
The fortune your good cause deserves betide you. An Alarm; after which Glocester speaks.
The fight grows hot; the whole war's now at work,

Where's Glo'ster now, that us'd to head the fray?
No more of shelter, thou blind worm, but forth
To th' open field? the war may come this way,
And crush thee into rest.—Here lay thee down,
And tear the earth. When, Edgar, wilt thou come
To pardon, and dismiss me to the grave? [A Retreat sounded.
Hark! a retreat; the king I fear has lost. Re-enter Edgar.

Edg.
Away, old man, give me your hand, away!
King Lear has lost; he and his daughter ta'en:
Give me your hand. Come on!

Glo.
No farther, sir; a man may rot, even here.

Edg.
What! in ill thoughts again? men must endure
Their going hence, ev'n as their coming hither.

Glo.
Heaven's will be done then! henceforth I'll endure
Affliction, till it do cry out itself,
Enough, enough, and die. [Exeunt. Flourish. Enter in Conquest, Albany, Gonerill, Regan, Bastard.—Lear, Kent, Cordelia, Prisoners.

Alb.
It is enough to have conquer'd; cruelty
Shou'd ne'er survive the fight. Captain o'th' Guard,
Treat well your royal prisoners, 'till you have
Our farther orders, as you hold our pleasure.

Bast.
Sir, I approve it safest to pronounce
Sentence of death upon this wretched king,
Whose age has charms in it, his title more,
To draw the commons once more to his side;
'Twere best prevent—

Alb.
Sir, by your favour,
I hold you but a subject of this war,
Not as a brother.

Reg.
That's as we list to grace him.
Have you forgot that he did lead our pow'rs?
Bore the commission of our place and person?
And that authority may well stand up,
And call itself your brother.

Gon.
Not so hot!
In his own merit he exalts himself,
More than in your addition. Enter Edgar disguis'd.

Alb.
What art thou?

Edg.
Pardon me, sir, that I presume to stop
A prince and conqu'ror; yet, ere you triumph,
Give ear to what a stranger can deliver
Of what concerns you more than triumph can.
I do impeach your general there of treason,
Lord Edmund, that usurps the name of Glo'ster,
Of foulest practice 'gainst your life and honour;
This charge is true: and wretched though I seem,
I can produce a champion that will prove
In single combat what I do avouch,
If Edmund dares but trust his cause and sword.

Edm.
What will not Edmund dare? my lord, I beg
You'd instantly appoint
The place where I may meet this challenger,
Whom I will sacrifice to my wrong'd fame:
Remember, sir, that injur'd honour's nice,
And cannot brook delay!

Alb.
Anon, before our tent, i'th' army's view,
There let the herald cry!

Edg.
I thank your highness in my champion's name:
He'll wait your trumpet's call.

Alb.
Lead, [Exit Alb. and train.

Edm.
Come hither, captain, hark! take thou this note; [Giving a paper.
One step I have advanc'd 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-minded
Does not become a sword; my great employment
Will not bear question; either say, thou'lt do't;
Or thrive by other means.

Capt.

I'll do't, my lord.

Edm.

About it, and write happy when thou'st done.

Manent Lear, Kent, Cordelia, guarded.

Lear.
O Kent! Cordelia!
You are the only pair that e'er I wrong'd,
And the just gods have made you witnesses
Of my disgrace; the very shame of fortune,
To see me chain'd and shackled at these years!
Yet were you but spectators of my woes,
Not fellow-sufferers, all were well.

Cor.
This language, sir, adds yet to our affliction.

Lear.
Thou Kent, didst head the troops that fought my battle.
Expos'd thy life and fortunes for a master
That had (as I remember) banish'd thee.

Kent.
Pardon me, sir, that once I broke your orders.
Banish'd by you, I kept me here disguis'd
To watch your fortunes, and protect your person:
You know you entertain'd a rough blunt fellow,
One Caius, and you thought he did you service.

Lear.
My trusty Caius, I have lost him too!
'Twas a rough honesty. [Weeps.

Kent.
I was that Caius,
Disguis'd in that coarse dress, to follow you.

Lear.
My Caius, too! wert thou my trusty Caius?
Enough, enough.—

Cor.
Ah me, he faints! his blood forsakes his cheek.
Help, Kent!

Lear.
No, no, they shall not see us weep.
We'll see them rot first.—Guards, lead away to prison.
Come, Kent; Cordelia, come;
We two will sit alone, like birds i'th' cage:
When thou dost ask me blessing, I'll kneel down
And ask of thee forgiveness; thus we'll live and pray,
And take upon us the mystery of things,
As if we were heav'n's spies.

Cor.
Upon such sacrifices
The gods themselves throw incense.

Lear.
Have I caught you?
He that parts us, must bring a brand from heav'n:
Together we'll out-toil the spite of hell,
And die the wonders of the world; away! [Exeunt guarded. Flourish. Enter before the Tents, Albany, Edmund, Guards and Attendants.

Alb.
Now Glo'ster, trust to thy single virtue: for thy soldiers,
All levied in my name, have in my name
Took their discharge: now let our trumpets speak,
And herald read out this. [Herald reads.

“If any man of quality within the lists of the army will maintain upon Edmund, suppos'd earl of Glo'ster, that he is a manifold traitor, let him appear by the third sound of the trumpet; he is bold in his defence.—Again, again.”

Alb.

Lord Edgar!

Edm.
Ha! my brother!
The only combatant that I cou'd fear,
For in my breast guilt duels on his side:
But, conscience, what have I to do with thee?
Awe thou the dull legitimate slaves: but I
Was born a libertine, and so I keep me.

Edg.
My noble prince, a word;—ere we engage,
Into your highness' hands I give this paper;
It will the truth of my impreachment prove,
Whatever be my fortune in the fight.

Alb.
We shall peruse it.

Edg.
Now, Edmund, draw thy sword,
That if my speech has wrong'd a noble heart,
Thy arm may do thee justice: here i'th' presence

Of this high Prince, and this renowned list,
I brand thee with the spotted name of Traitor;
False to thy gods, thy father, and thy brother,
And, what is more, thy friend; false to this Prince:
If then thou shar'st a spark of Glo'ster's virtue,
Acquit thyself; or if thou shar'st his courage,
Meet this defiance bravely.

Edm.
I have a daring soul, and so have at thy heart.
Sound, trumpet. [Fight, Bastard falls.
What you have charg'd me with, that I have done:
And more, much more; the time will bring it out.
'Tis past, and so am I.

Edg.
The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices
Make instruments to scourge us:
The dark and vicious place, where thee he got,
Cost him his eyes.

Edm.
Thou'st spoken right, 'tis true,
The wheel is come full circle; I am here.
Yet, ere I die, some good I mean to do,
Despight of mine own nature. Quickly send
(Be brief,) into the castle; for my order
Is on the life of Lear and Cordelia.
Nay, send in time.

Edg.
Run, run, O run—

Alb.
The gods defend them! bear him hence a while. [Edm. is borne off. Exeunt. Scene 3 SCENE, A Prison. Lear asleep, with his Head on Cordelia's Lap.

Cord.
What toils, thou wretched King, hast thou endur'd,
To make thee draw, in chains, a sleep so sound?
O gods! A sudden gloom o'erwhelms me, and the image
Of death o'erspreads the place.—Ha! who are these? Captain and Officers with Cords.

Capt.
Now, sirs, dispatch; already you are paid
In part, the best of your reward's to come.

Lear.
Charge, charge, upon the flank, the lest wing halts.
Push, push the battle, and the day's our own.
Their ranks are broken, down, down with Albany!
Who holds my hands?—O thou deceiving sleep;
I was this very minute on the chace,
And now a pris'ner here!—What mean the Slaves?
You will not murder me?

Cord.
Help, earth and heaven!
For your souls sake, dear sirs, and for the gods!

Offi.
No tears, good lady;
Come, sirs, make ready your cords.

Cord.
You, sir, I'll seize,
You have a human form, and if no prayers
Can touch your soul to spare a poor King's life,
If there be any thing that you hold dear,
By that I beg you to dispatch me first.

Capt.
Comply with her request; dispatch her first.

Lear.
Off hell-hounds, by the gods I charge you spare her;
'Tis my Cordelia, my true pious daughter;
No pity?—Nay, then take an old man's vengeance. Snatches a Sword, and kills two of them; the rest quit Cordelia, and turn upon him. Enter Edgar, Albany, and Guards.

Edg.
Death! hell! ye vultures, hold your impious hands,
Or take a speedier death than you wou'd give.

Alb.
Guards, seize those instruments of cruelty.

Gent.
Look here, my lord, see where the generous King
Has slain two of 'em.

Lear.
Did I not, Fellow?
I've seen the day, with my good biting faulchion
I cou'd have made 'em skip: I am old now,
And these vile crosses spoil me; out of breath;
Fie, oh! quite out of breath, and spent.

Alb.
Bring in old Kent; and, Edgar, guide you hither
Your father, whom you said was near; [Ex. Edgar.
He may be an ear-witness at the least
Of our proceedings. [Kent brought in.

Lear.
Who are you?
My eyes are none o'th' best, I'll tell you straight:
Oh Albany! Well, sir, we are your captives,
And you are come to see death pass upon us.
Why this delay?—Or is't your highness' pleasure
To give us first the torture? say ye so?
Why here's old Kent and I, as tough a pair
As e'er bore tyrant's stroke.—But, my Cordelia,
My poor Cordelia here, O pity her!

Alb.
Thou injur'd Majesty,
The wheel of fortune now has made her circle,
And blessings yet stand 'twixt the grave and thee,

Lear.
Com'st thou, inhuman lord, to sooth us back
To a fool's paradise of hope, to make
Our doom more wretched? Go to, we are too well
Acquainted with misfortune, to be gull'd
With lying hope; no, we will hope no more.

Alb.
Know, the noble Edgar
Impeach'd lord Edmund, since the fight, of treason,
And dar'd him for the proof to single combat,
In which the gods confirm'd his charge by conquest;
I left ev'n now the traitor wounded mortally.

Lear.
And whither tends this story?

Alb.
Ere they fought,
Lord Edgar gave into my hands this paper;
A blacker scroll of treason and of lust
Than can be found in the records of hell;
There, sacred sir, behold the character
Of Gonerill, the worst of daughters, but
More vicious wife.

Cor.
Cou'd there be yet addition to their guilt!
What will not they that wrong a father do?

Alb.
Since then my injuries, Lear, fall in with thine,
I have resolv'd the same redress for both.

Kent.
What says my lord?

Cor.
Speak, for methought I heard
The charming voice of a descending god.

Alb.
The troops, by Edmund rais'd, I have disbanded;
Those that remain are under my command.
What comfort may be brought to chear your age,
And heal your savage wrongs, shall be apply'd;
For to your majesty we do resign
Your kingdom, save what part yourself conferr'd
On us in marriage.

Kent.
Hear you that, my liege?

Cor.
Then there are gods, and virtue is their care.

Lear.
Is't possible?
Let the spheres stop their course, the sun make halt,
The winds be hush'd, the seas and fountains rest;
All nature pause, and listen to the change.
Where is my Kent, my Caius?

Kent.
Here, my liege.

Lear.
Why I have news that will recall thy youth:
Ha! didst thou hear't, or did th' inspiring gods
Whisper to me alone? old Lear shall be
A king again.

Alb.
Thy captive daughter too, the wife of France,
Unransom'd we enlarge, and shall, with speed,
Give her safe convoy to her royal husband.

Lear.
Cordelia then is Queen again. Mark that!
Winds, catch the sound,
And bear it on your rosy wings to heav'n:
Cordelia's still a Queen. Re-enter Edgar with Glocester.

Alb.
Look, sir, where pious Edgar comes,
Leading his eyeless Father.

Glo.
Where's my liege? conduct me to his knees, to hail
His second birth of empire: my dear Edgar
Has with himself reveal'd the king's blest restauration.

Lear.
My poor dark Glo'ster!

Glo.
O let me kiss that once more scepter'd hand!

Lear.
Speak, is not that the noble suff'ring Edgar?

Glo.
My pious son, more dear than my lost eyes.

Edg.
Your leave, my liege, for an unwelcome message.
Edmund (but that's a trifle) is expir'd.
What more will touch you, your imperious daughters,
Gonerill and haughty Regan, both are dead,
Each by the other poison'd at a banquet:
This, dying, they confess'd.

Cord.
O fatal period of ill-govern'd life!

Lear.
Ingrateful as they were, my heart feels yet
A pang of nature for their wretched fall.

Glo.
Now, gentle gods, give Glo'ster his discharge.

Lear.
No, Glo'ster, thou hast business yet for life;
Thou, Kent, and I, in sweet tranquillity
Will gently pass the evening of our days;
Thus will we talk, and tell old tales, and laugh
At gilded butterflies: and our remains
Shall in an even course of thoughts be pass'd.
My child, Cordelia, all the gods can witness
How much thy truth to empire I prefer!
Thy bright example shall convince the world
(Whatever storms of fortune are decreed)
That Truth and Virtue shall at last succeed. [Exeunt Omnes.

Previous section