KENT.Alas, sir, are you here? Things that love nightLove not such nights as these; the wrathful skiesGallow the very wanderers of the dark,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 neverRemember to have heard. Man’s nature cannot carryTh’affliction, nor the fear.
LEAR.Let the great gods,That keep this dreadful pudder o’er our heads,Find out their enemies now. Tremble, thou wretch,That hast within thee undivulged crimesUnwhipp’d of justice. Hide thee, thou bloody hand;Thou perjur’d, and thou simular of virtueThat art incestuous. Caitiff, to pieces shakeThat under covert and convenient seemingHast practis’d on man’s life: close pent-up guilts,Rive your concealing continents, and cryThese dreadful summoners grace. I am a manMore sinn’d against than sinning.
KENT.Alack, bareheaded!Gracious my lord, hard by here is a hovel;Some friendship will it lend you ’gainst the tempest:Repose you there, whilst I to this hard house,—More harder than the stones whereof ’tis rais’d;Which even but now, demanding after you,Denied me to come in,—return, and forceTheir 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 heartThat’s sorry yet for thee.
FOOL.[_Singing._]He that has and a little tiny wit,With heigh-ho, the wind and the rain,Must make content with his fortunes fit,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 courtezan. I’ll speak a prophecyere I go:When priests are more in word than matter;When brewers mar their malt with water;When nobles are their tailors’ tutors;No heretics burn’d, but wenches’ suitors;When every case in law is right;No squire in debt, nor no poor knight;When slanders do not live in tongues;Nor cut-purses come not to throngs;When usurers tell their gold i’ the field;And bawds and whores do churches build,Then shall the realm of AlbionCome to great confusion:Then comes the time, 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._]
SCENE III. A Room in Gloucester’s Castle
Enter Gloucester and Edmund.
GLOUCESTER.Alack, alack, Edmund, I like not this unnatural dealing. When Idesired their leave that I might pity him, they took from me theuse 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 to; say you nothing. There is division between the Dukes,and a worse matter than that: I have received a letter thisnight;—’tis dangerous to be spoken;—I have locked the letterin my closet: these injuries the King now bears will be revengedhome; there’s part of a power already footed: we must incline tothe King. I will look him, and privily relieve him: go you andmaintain talk with the Duke, that my charity be not of himperceived: if he ask for me, I am ill, and gone to bed. If Idie for it, as no less is threatened me, the King my old mastermust be relieved. There is some strange thing toward, Edmund;pray you be careful.
[_Exit._]
EDMUND.This courtesy, forbid thee, shall the DukeInstantly know; and of that letter too.This seems a fair deserving, and must draw meThat which my father loses, no less than all:The younger rises when the old doth fall.
[_Exit._]
SCENE IV. A part of the Heath with a Hovel
Storm continues. Enter Lear,Kent and Fool.
KENT.Here is the place, my lord; good my lord, enter:The tyranny of the open night’s too roughFor nature to endure.
LEAR.Let me alone.
KENT.Good my lord, enter here.
LEAR.Wilt break my heart?
KENT.I had rather break mine own. Good my lord, enter.
LEAR.Thou think’st ’tis much that this contentious stormInvades us to the skin: so ’tis to thee,But where the greater malady is fix’d,The lesser is scarce felt. Thou’dst shun a bear;But if thy flight lay toward the raging sea,Thou’dst meet the bear i’ the mouth. When the mind’sfree,The body’s delicate: the tempest in my mindDoth from my senses take all feeling elseSave what beats there. Filial ingratitude!Is it not as this mouth should tear this handFor lifting food to’t? But I will punish home;No, I will weep no more. In such a nightTo shut me out! Pour on; I will endure:In such a night as this! O Regan, Goneril!Your old kind father, whose frank heart gave all,O, that way madness lies; let me shun that;No more of that.
KENT.Good my lord, enter here.
LEAR.Prythee go in thyself; seek thine own ease:This tempest will not give me leave to ponderOn 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.
[_Fool goes in._]
Poor naked wretches, wheresoe’er you are,That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm,How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides,Your loop’d and window’d raggedness, defend youFrom seasons such as these? O, I have ta’enToo little care of this! Take physic, pomp;Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel,That thou mayst shake the superflux to themAnd show the heavens more just.
EDGAR.[_Within._] Fathom 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 amadman.
EDGAR.Away! the foul fiend follows me! Through the sharp hawthorn blows thecold wind. Humh! go to thy cold bed, and warm thee.
LEAR.Didst thou give all to thy two daughters?And art thou come to this?
EDGAR.Who gives anything to poor Tom? Whom the foul fiend hath ledthrough fire and through flame, through ford and whirlpool, o’erbog and quagmire; that hath laid knives under his pillow andhalters in his pew, set ratsbane by his porridge; made him proudof heart, to ride on a bay trotting horse over four-inchedbridges, to course his own shadow for a traitor. Bless thy fivewits! Tom’s a-cold. O, do, de, do, de, do, de. Bless thee fromwhirlwinds, star-blasting, and taking! Do poor Tom some charity,whom the foul fiend vexes. There could I have him now, andthere,—and there again, and there.
[_Storm continues._]
LEAR.What, have his daughters brought him to this pass?Couldst thou save nothing? Didst thou give ’em all?
FOOL.Nay, he reserv’d a blanket, else we had been all shamed.
LEAR.Now all the plagues that in the pendulous airHang fated o’er men’s faults light on thy daughters!
KENT.He hath no daughters, sir.
LEAR.Death, traitor! nothing could have subdu’d natureTo such a lowness but his unkind daughters.Is it the fashion that discarded fathersShould have thus little mercy on their flesh?Judicious punishment! ’twas this flesh begotThose pelican daughters.
EDGAR.Pillicock sat on Pillicock hill,Alow, alow, loo loo!
FOOL.This cold night will turn us all to fools and madmen.
EDGAR.Take heed o’ th’ foul fiend: obey thy parents; keep thy wordjustly; swear not; commit not with man’s sworn spouse; set notthy sweet-heart on proud array. Tom’s a-cold.
LEAR.What hast thou been?
EDGAR.A serving-man, proud in heart and mind; that curled my hair;wore gloves in my cap; served the lust of my mistress’ heart, anddid the act of darkness with her; swore as many oaths as I spakewords, and broke them in the sweet face of heaven. One thatslept in the contriving of lust, and waked to do it. Wine lovedI deeply, dice dearly; and in woman out-paramour’d the Turk.False of heart, light of ear, bloody of hand; hog in sloth, foxin stealth, wolf in greediness, dog in madness, lion in prey.Let not the creaking of shoes nor the rustling of silks betraythy poor heart to woman. Keep thy foot out of brothels, thy handout of plackets, thy pen from lender’s book, and defy the foulfiend. Still through the hawthorn blows the cold wind: sayssuum, mun, nonny. Dolphin my boy, boy, sessa! let him trot by.
[_Storm still continues._]
LEAR.Why, thou wert better in thy grave than to answer with thy uncoveredbody this extremity of the skies. Is man no more than this? Considerhim well. Thou owest the worm no silk, the beast no hide, the sheep nowool, the cat no perfume. Ha! here’s three on’s aresophisticated! Thou art the thing itself: unaccommodated man is no morebut such a poor, bare, forked animal as thou art. Off, off, youlendings! Come, unbutton here.
[_Tears off his clothes._]
FOOL.Prythee, nuncle, be contented; ’tis a naughty night to swimin. Now a little fire in a wild field were like an old lecher’sheart, a small spark, all the rest on’s body cold. Look, herecomes a walking fire.
EDGAR.This is the foul fiend Flibbertigibbet: he begins at curfew, and walkstill the first cock; he gives the web and the pin, squints the eye, andmakes the harelip; mildews the white wheat, and hurts the poor creatureof earth.Swithold footed thrice the old;He met the nightmare, and her nine-fold;Bid her alight and her troth plight,And aroint thee, witch, aroint thee!
KENT.How fares your grace?
Enter Gloucester with atorch.
LEAR.What’s 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 todpole, thewall-newt and the water; that in the fury of his heart, when thefoul fiend rages, eats cow-dung for sallets; swallows the old ratand the ditch-dog; drinks the green mantle of the standing pool;who is whipped from tithing to tithing, and stocked, punished,and imprisoned; who hath had three suits to his back, six shirtsto 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 year.Beware my follower. Peace, Smulkin; peace, thou fiend!
GLOUCESTER.What, hath your grace no better company?
EDGAR.The prince of darkness is a gentleman:Modo he’s call’d, and Mahu.
GLOUCESTER.Our flesh and blood, my lord, is grown so vileThat it doth hate what gets it.
EDGAR.Poor Tom’s a-cold.
GLOUCESTER.Go in with me: my duty cannot sufferT’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 Theban.What is your study?
EDGAR.How to prevent the fiend and to kill vermin.
LEAR.Let me ask you one word in private.
KENT.Importune him once more to go, my lord;His wits begin t’unsettle.
GLOUCESTER.Canst thou blame him?His daughters seek his death. Ah, that good Kent!He said it would be thus, poor banish’d man!Thou sayest 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 lifeBut 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, sir.Noble philosopher, your company.
EDGAR.Tom’s a-cold.
GLOUCESTER.In, fellow, there, into 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, soothe him; let him take the fellow.
GLOUCESTER.Take him you on.
KENT.Sirrah, come on; go along with us.
LEAR.Come, good Athenian.
GLOUCESTER.No words, no words, hush.
EDGAR.Child Rowland to the dark tower came,His word was still—Fie, foh, and fum,I smell the blood of a British man.
[_Exeunt._]
SCENE V. A Room in Gloucester’s Castle
Enter Cornwall and Edmund.
CORNWALL.I will have my revenge ere I depart his house.
EDMUND.How, my lord, I may be censured, that nature thus gives way toloyalty, something fears me to think of.
CORNWALL.I now perceive it was not altogether your brother’s evildisposition made him seek his death; but a provoking merit, seta-work by a reproveable badness in himself.
EDMUND.How malicious is my fortune, that I must repent to be just! Thisis the letter he spoke of, which approves him an intelligentparty to the advantages of France. O heavens! that this treasonwere 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 businessin hand.
CORNWALL.True or false, it hath made thee Earl of Gloucester. Seek outwhere thy father is, that he may be ready for our apprehension.
EDMUND.[_Aside._] If I find him comforting the King, it will stuff hissuspicion more fully. I will persever 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 dearer fatherin my love.
[_Exeunt._]
SCENE VI. A Chamber in a Farmhouse adjoining the Castle
Enter Gloucester, Lear, Kent,Fool and Edgar.
GLOUCESTER.Here is better than the open air; take it thankfully. I willpiece out the comfort with what addition I can: I will not belong from you.
KENT.All the power of his wits have given way to his impatience:—the gods reward your kindness!
[_Exit Gloucester._]
EDGAR.Frateretto calls me; and tells me Nero is an angler in the lakeof darkness. Pray, innocent, and beware the foul fiend.
FOOL.Prythee, nuncle, tell me whether a madman be a gentleman or ayeoman.
LEAR.A king, a king!
FOOL.No, he’s a yeoman that has a gentleman to his son; for he’s a madyeoman that sees his son a gentleman before him.
LEAR.To have a thousand with red burning spitsCome hissing in upon ’em.
EDGAR.The foul fiend bites my back.
FOOL.He’s mad that trusts in the tameness of a wolf, a horse’s health,a boy’s love, or a whore’s oath.
LEAR.It shall be done; I will arraign them straight.[_To Edgar._] Come, sit thou here, most learned justicer;[_To the Fool._] Thou, sapient sir, sit here. Now, you she-foxes!—
EDGAR.Look, where he stands and glares! Want’st thou eyes at trial, madam?Come o’er the bourn, Bessy, to me.
FOOL.Her boat hath a leak,And she must not speakWhy she dares not come over to thee.
EDGAR.The foul fiend haunts poor Tom in the voice of a nightingale.Hoppedance cries in Tom’s belly for two white herring. Croak not, blackangel; I have no food for thee.
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 their evidence.[_To Edgar._] Thou, robed man of justice, take thy place.[_To the Fool._] And thou, his yokefellow of equity,Bench by his side. [_To Kent._] You are o’ the commission,Sit you too.
EDGAR.Let us deal justly.Sleepest or wakest thou, jolly shepherd?Thy sheep be in the corn;And for one blast of thy minikin mouthThy sheep shall take no harm.Purr! the cat is grey.
LEAR.Arraign her first; ’tis Goneril. I here take my oath beforethis 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-stool.
LEAR.And here’s another, whose warp’d looks proclaimWhat store her heart is made on. Stop her there!Arms, arms! sword! fire! Corruption in the place!False justicer, why hast thou let her ’scape?
EDGAR.Bless thy five wits!
KENT.O pity! Sir, where is the patience nowThat you so oft have boasted to retain?
EDGAR.[_Aside._] My tears begin to take his part so muchThey mar my counterfeiting.
LEAR.The little dogs and all,Trey, Blanch, and Sweetheart, see, they bark at me.
EDGAR.Tom will throw his head at them. Avaunt, you curs!Be thy mouth or black or white,Tooth that poisons if it bite;Mastiff, greyhound, mongrel grim,Hound or spaniel, brach or him,Or bobtail tike or trundle-tail,Tom will make them weep and wail;For, with throwing thus my head,Dogs leap the hatch, and all are fled.Do, de, de, de. Sessa! Come, march to wakes and fairs and market towns.Poor Tom, thy horn is dry.
LEAR.Then let them anatomize Regan; see what breeds about herheart. Is there any cause in nature that makes these hardhearts? [_To Edgar._] You, sir, I entertain you for one of myhundred; only I do not like the fashion of your garments. You’llsay they are Persian; but let them be changed.
KENT.Now, good my lord, lie here and rest awhile.
LEAR.Make no noise, make no noise; draw the curtains.So, so. We’ll go to supper i’ the morning.
FOOL.And I’ll go to bed at noon.
Enter Gloucester.
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 prythee, take him in thy arms;I have o’erheard a plot of death upon him;There is a litter ready; lay him in’tAnd drive towards Dover, friend, where thou shalt meetBoth 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 assured loss. Take up, take up;And follow me, that will to some provisionGive thee quick conduct.
KENT.Oppressed nature sleeps.This rest might yet have balm’d thy broken sinews,Which, if convenience will not allow,Stand in hard cure. Come, help to bear thy master;[_To the Fool._] Thou must not stay behind.
GLOUCESTER.Come, come, away!
[_Exeunt Kent, Gloucester and the Fool bearing off Lear._]
EDGAR.When we our betters see bearing our woes,We scarcely think our miseries our foes.Who alone suffers, suffers most i’ the mind,Leaving free things and happy shows behind:But then the mind much sufferance doth o’erskipWhen grief hath mates, and bearing fellowship.How light and portable my pain seems now,When that which makes me bend makes the King bow;He childed as I fathered! Tom, away!Mark the high noises; and thyself bewray,When false opinion, whose wrong thoughts defile thee,In thy just proof repeals and reconciles thee.What will hap more tonight, safe ’scape the King!Lurk, lurk.
[_Exit._]
SCENE VII. A Room in Gloucester’s Castle
Enter Cornwall, Regan, Goneril,Edmund and Servants.
CORNWALL.Post speedily to my lord your husband, show him this letter: the armyof France is landed. Seek out the traitor Gloucester.
[_Exeunt some of the Servants._]
REGAN.Hang him instantly.
GONERIL.Pluck out his eyes.
CORNWALL.Leave him to my displeasure. Edmund, keep you our sistercompany: the revenges we are bound to take upon your traitorousfather are not fit for your beholding. Advise the Duke where youare going, to a most festinate preparation: we are bound to thelike. Our posts shall be swift and intelligent betwixt us.Farewell, dear sister, farewell, my lord of Gloucester.
Enter Oswald.
How now! Where’s the King?
OSWALD.My lord of Gloucester hath convey’d him hence:Some five or six and thirty of his knights,Hot questrists after him, met him at gate;Who, with some other of the lord’s dependants,Are gone with him toward Dover: where they boastTo have well-armed friends.
CORNWALL.Get horses for your mistress.
GONERIL.Farewell, sweet lord, and sister.
CORNWALL.Edmund, farewell.
[_Exeunt Goneril, Edmund and Oswald._]
Go seek the traitor Gloucester,Pinion him like a thief, bring him before us.
[_Exeunt other Servants._]
Though well we may not pass upon his lifeWithout the form of justice, yet our powerShall do a courtesy to our wrath, which menMay blame, but not control. Who’s there? The traitor?
Enter Gloucesterand Servants.
REGAN.Ingrateful fox! ’tis he.
CORNWALL.Bind fast his corky arms.
GLOUCESTER.What mean 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 doneTo pluck me by the beard.
REGAN.So white, and such a traitor!
GLOUCESTER.Naughty lady,These hairs which thou dost ravish from my chinWill quicken, and accuse thee. I am your host:With robber’s hands my hospitable favoursYou should not ruffle thus. What will you do?
CORNWALL.Come, sir, what letters had you late from France?
REGAN.Be simple answer’d, for we know the truth.
CORNWALL.And what confederacy have you with the traitors,Late footed in the kingdom?
REGAN.To whose hands have you sent the lunatic King?Speak.
GLOUCESTER.I have a letter guessingly set down,Which came from one that’s of a neutral heart,And not from one oppos’d.
CORNWALL.Cunning.
REGAN.And false.
CORNWALL.Where hast thou sent the King?
GLOUCESTER.To Dover.
REGAN.Wherefore to Dover? Wast thou not charg’d at peril,—
CORNWALL.Wherefore to Dover? Let him first answer that.
GLOUCESTER.I am tied to the stake, and I must stand the course.
REGAN.Wherefore to Dover, sir?
GLOUCESTER.Because I would not see thy cruel nailsPluck out his poor old eyes; nor thy fierce sisterIn his anointed flesh stick boarish fangs.The sea, with such a storm as his bare headIn hell-black night endur’d, would have buoy’d up,And quench’d the stelled fires;Yet, poor old heart, he holp the heavens to rain.If wolves had at thy gate howl’d that stern time,Thou shouldst have said, ‘Good porter, turn the key.’All cruels else subscrib’d: but I shall seeThe winged vengeance overtake such children.
CORNWALL.See’t shalt thou never. Fellows, hold the chair.Upon these eyes of thine I’ll set my foot.
[_Gloucester is held down in his chair, while Cornwall plucks out oneof his eyes and sets his foot on it._]
GLOUCESTER.He that will think to live till he be old,Give me some help!—O cruel! O you gods!
REGAN.One side will mock another; the other too!
CORNWALL.If you see vengeance—
FIRST SERVANT.Hold your hand, my lord:I have serv’d you ever since I was a child;But better service have I never done youThan now to bid you hold.
REGAN.How now, you dog!
FIRST SERVANT.If you did wear a beard upon your chin,I’d shake it on this quarrel. What do you mean?
CORNWALL.My villain?
[_Draws, and runs at him._]
FIRST SERVANT.Nay, then, come on, and take the chance of anger.
[_Draws. They fight. Cornwall is wounded._]
REGAN.[_To another servant._] Give me thy sword. A peasant stand up thus?
[_Snatches a sword, comes behind, and stabs him._]
FIRST SERVANT.O, I am slain! My lord, you have one eye leftTo see some mischief on him. O!
[_Dies._]
CORNWALL.Lest it see more, prevent it. Out, vile jelly!Where is thy lustre now?
[_Tears out Gloucester’s other eye and throws it on the ground._]
GLOUCESTER.All dark and comfortless. Where’s my son Edmund?Edmund, enkindle all the sparks of natureTo quit this horrid act.
REGAN.Out, treacherous villain!Thou call’st on him that hates thee: it was heThat made the overture of thy treasons to us;Who is too good to pity thee.
GLOUCESTER.O my follies! Then Edgar was abus’d.Kind gods, forgive me that, and prosper him!
REGAN.Go thrust him out at gates, and let him smellHis way to Dover. How is’t, my lord? How look you?
CORNWALL.I have receiv’d a hurt: follow me, lady.Turn out that eyeless villain. Throw this slaveUpon the dunghill. Regan, I bleed apace:Untimely comes this hurt: give me your arm.
[_Exit Cornwall, led by Regan; Servants unbind Gloucester and leadhim out._]
SECOND SERVANT.I’ll never care what wickedness I do,If this man come to good.
THIRD SERVANT.If she live long,And in the end meet the old course of death,Women will all turn monsters.
SECOND SERVANT.Let’s follow the old Earl, and get the bedlamTo lead him where he would: his roguish madnessAllows itself to anything.
THIRD SERVANT.Go thou: I’ll fetch some flax and whites of eggsTo apply to his bleeding face. Now heaven help him!
[_Exeunt._]
ACT IV
SCENE I. The heath
Enter Edgar.
EDGAR.Yet better thus, and known to be contemn’d,Than still contemn’d and flatter’d. To be worst,The lowest and most dejected thing of fortune,Stands still in esperance, lives not in fear:The lamentable change is from the best;The worst returns to laughter. Welcome then,Thou unsubstantial air that I embrace;The wretch that thou hast blown unto the worstOwes nothing to thy blasts.
Enter Gloucester, led by anOld Man.
But who comes here? My father, poorly led?World, world, O world!But that thy strange mutations make us hate thee,Life would not yield to age.
OLD MAN.O my good lord, I have been your tenant, and your father’s tenantthese fourscore years.
GLOUCESTER.Away, get thee away; good friend, be gone.Thy comforts can do me no good at all;Thee they may hurt.
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 seenOur means secure us, and our mere defectsProve our commodities. O dear son Edgar,The food of thy abused 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?
EDGAR.[_Aside._] O gods! Who is’t can say ‘I am at theworst’?I am worse than e’er I was.
OLD MAN.’Tis poor mad Tom.
EDGAR.[_Aside._] And worse I may be yet. The worst is notSo 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 reason, else he could not beg.I’ the last night’s storm I such a fellow saw;Which made me think a man a worm. My sonCame then into my mind, and yet my mindWas then scarce friends with him.I have heard more since.As flies to wanton boys are we to the gods,They kill us for their sport.
EDGAR.[_Aside._] How should this be?Bad is the trade that must play fool to sorrow,Angering itself and others. Bless thee, master!
GLOUCESTER.Is that the naked fellow?
OLD MAN.Ay, my lord.
GLOUCESTER.Then prythee get thee away. If for my sakeThou wilt o’ertake us hence a mile or twain,I’ the way toward Dover, do it for ancient love,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 plague when madmen lead the blind.Do as I bid thee, or rather do thy pleasure;Above the rest, be gone.
OLD MAN.I’ll bring him the best ’parel that I have,Come on’t what will.
[_Exit._]
GLOUCESTER.Sirrah naked fellow.
EDGAR.Poor Tom’s a-cold.[_Aside._] I cannot daub it further.
GLOUCESTER.Come hither, fellow.
EDGAR.[_Aside._] 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 beenscared out of his good wits. Bless thee, good man’s son, fromthe foul fiend! Five fiends have been in poor Tom at once; oflust, as Obidicut; Hobbididence, prince of darkness; Mahu, ofstealing; Modo, of murder; Flibbertigibbet, of mopping andmowing, who since possesses chambermaids and waiting women. So,bless thee, master!
GLOUCESTER.Here, take this purse, thou whom the heaven’s plaguesHave humbled to all strokes: that I am wretchedMakes thee the happier. Heavens deal so still!Let the superfluous and lust-dieted man,That slaves your ordinance, that will not seeBecause he does not feel, feel your power quickly;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 bending headLooks fearfully in the confined deep:Bring me but to the very brim of it,And I’ll repair the misery thou dost bearWith something rich about me: from that placeI shall no leading need.
EDGAR.Give me thy arm:Poor Tom shall lead thee.
[_Exeunt._]
SCENE II. Before the Duke of Albany’s Palace
Enter Goneril, Edmund;Oswald meeting them.
GONERIL.Welcome, my lord. I marvel our mild husbandNot met us on the way. Now, where’s your master?
OSWALD.Madam, within; but never man so chang’d.I told him of the army that was landed;He smil’d at it: I told him you were coming;His answer was, ‘The worse.’ Of Gloucester’s treacheryAnd of the loyal service of his sonWhen I inform’d him, then he call’d me sot,And told me I had turn’d the wrong side out.What most he should dislike seems pleasant to him;What like, offensive.
GONERIL.[_To Edmund._] Then shall you go no further.It is the cowish terror of his spirit,That dares not undertake. He’ll not feel wrongsWhich tie him to an answer. Our wishes on the wayMay prove effects. Back, Edmund, to my brother;Hasten his musters and conduct his powers.I must change names at home, and give the distaffInto my husband’s hands. This trusty servantShall pass between us. Ere long you are like to hear,If you dare venture in your own behalf,A mistress’s command. [_Giving a favour._]Wear this; spare speech;Decline your head. This kiss, if it durst speak,Would stretch thy spirits up into the air.Conceive, and fare thee well.
EDMUND.Yours in the ranks of death.
[_Exit Edmund._]
GONERIL.My most dear Gloucester.O, the difference of man and man!To thee a woman’s services are due;My fool usurps my body.
OSWALD.Madam, here comes my lord.
[_Exit._]
Enter Albany.
GONERIL.I have been worth the whistle.
ALBANY.O Goneril!You are not worth the dust which the rude windBlows in your face! I fear your disposition;That nature which contemns its originCannot be bordered certain in itself.She that herself will sliver and disbranchFrom her material sap, perforce must witherAnd come to deadly use.
GONERIL.No more; the text is foolish.
ALBANY.Wisdom and goodness to the vile seem vile;Filths savour but themselves. What have you done?Tigers, not daughters, what have you perform’d?A father, and a gracious aged man,Whose reverence even the head-lugg’d bear would lick,Most barbarous, most degenerate, have you madded.Could my good brother suffer you to do it?A man, a prince, by him so benefitted!If that the heavens do not their visible spiritsSend quickly down to tame these vile offences,It will come,Humanity must perforce prey on itself,Like monsters of the deep.
GONERIL.Milk-liver’d man!That bear’st a cheek for blows, a head for wrongs;Who hast not in thy brows an eye discerningThine honour from thy suffering; that not know’stFools do those villains pity who are punish’dEre they have done their mischief. Where’s thy drum?France spreads his banners in our noiseless land;With plumed helm thy state begins to threat,Whilst thou, a moral fool, sitt’st still, and criest‘Alack, why does he so?’
ALBANY.See thyself, devil!Proper deformity seems not in the fiendSo horrid as in woman.
GONERIL.O vain fool!
ALBANY.Thou changed and self-cover’d thing, for shame!Be-monster not thy feature! Were’t my fitnessTo let these hands obey my blood,They are apt enough to dislocate and tearThy flesh and bones. Howe’er thou art a fiend,A woman’s shape doth shield thee.
GONERIL.Marry, your manhood, mew!
Enter a Messenger.
ALBANY.What news?
MESSENGER.O, my good lord, the Duke of Cornwall’s dead;Slain by his servant, going to put outThe other eye of Gloucester.
ALBANY.Gloucester’s eyes!
MESSENGER.A servant that he bred, thrill’d with remorse,Oppos’d against the act, bending his swordTo his great master; who, thereat enrag’d,Flew on him, and amongst them fell’d him dead;But not without that harmful stroke which sinceHath pluck’d him after.
ALBANY.This shows you are above,You justicers, that these our nether crimesSo speedily can venge! But, O poor Gloucester!Lost he his other eye?
MESSENGER.Both, both, my lord.This letter, madam, craves a speedy answer;’Tis from your sister.
GONERIL.[_Aside._] One way I like this well;But being widow, and my Gloucester with her,May all the building in my fancy pluckUpon my hateful life. Another wayThe news is not so tart. 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 back again.
ALBANY.Knows he the wickedness?
MESSENGER.Ay, my good lord. ’Twas he inform’d against him;And quit the house on purpose, that their punishmentMight have the freer course.
ALBANY.Gloucester, I liveTo thank thee for the love thou show’dst the King,And to revenge thine eyes. Come hither, friend,Tell me what more thou know’st.
[_Exeunt._]
SCENE III. The French camp near Dover
Enter Kent and a Gentleman.
KENT.Why the King of France is so suddenly gone back, know you noreason?
GENTLEMAN.Something he left imperfect in the state, which since his comingforth is thought of, which imports to the kingdom so much fearand danger that his personal return was most required andnecessary.
KENT.Who hath he left behind him general?
GENTLEMAN.The Mareschal of France, Monsieur La Far.
KENT.Did your letters pierce the queen to any demonstration of grief?
GENTLEMAN.Ay, sir; she took them, read them in my presence;And now and then an ample tear trill’d downHer delicate cheek. It seem’d she was a queenOver her passion; who, most rebel-like,Sought to be king o’er her.
KENT.O, then it mov’d her.
GENTLEMAN.Not to a rage: patience and sorrow stroveWho should express her goodliest. You have seenSunshine and rain at once: her smiles and tearsWere like a better day. Those happy smiletsThat play’d on her ripe lip seem’d not to knowWhat guests were in her eyes; which parted thenceAs pearls from diamonds dropp’d. In brief,Sorrow would be a rarity most belov’d,If all could so become it.
KENT.Made she no verbal question?
GENTLEMAN.Faith, once or twice she heav’d the name of ‘father’Pantingly forth, as if it press’d her heart;Cried ‘Sisters, sisters! Shame of ladies! sisters!Kent! father! sisters! What, i’ the storm? i’ the night?Let pity not be believ’d!’ There she shookThe holy water from her heavenly eyes,And clamour master’d her: then away she startedTo deal with grief alone.
KENT.It is the stars,The stars above us govern our conditions;Else one self mate and make could not begetSuch different issues. You spoke not with her since?
GENTLEMAN.No.
KENT.Was this before the King return’d?
GENTLEMAN.No, since.
KENT.Well, sir, the poor distressed Lear’s i’ the town;Who sometime, in his better tune, remembersWhat we are come about, and by no meansWill yield to see his daughter.
GENTLEMAN.Why, good sir?
KENT.A sovereign shame so elbows him. His own unkindness,That stripp’d her from his benediction, turn’d herTo foreign casualties, gave her dear rightsTo his dog-hearted daughters, these things stingHis mind so venomously that burning shameDetains him from Cordelia.
GENTLEMAN.Alack, poor gentleman!
KENT.Of Albany’s and Cornwall’s powers you heard not?
GENTLEMAN.’Tis so; they are afoot.
KENT.Well, sir, I’ll bring you to our master LearAnd leave you to attend him. Some dear causeWill in concealment wrap me up awhile;When I am known aright, you shall not grieveLending me this acquaintance.I pray you, go along with me.
[_Exeunt._]
SCENE IV. The French camp. A Tent
Enter with drum and colours, Cordelia, Physicianand Soldiers.
CORDELIA.Alack, ’tis he: why, he was met even nowAs mad as the vex’d sea; singing aloud;Crown’d with rank fumiter and furrow weeds,With harlocks, hemlock, nettles, cuckoo-flowers,Darnel, and all the idle weeds that growIn our sustaining corn. A century send forth;Search every acre in the high-grown field,And bring him to our eye.
[_Exit an Officer._]
What can man’s wisdomIn the restoring his bereaved sense,He that helps him take all my outward worth.
PHYSICIAN.There is means, madam:Our foster nurse of nature is repose,The which he lacks; that to provoke in himAre many simples operative, whose powerWill close the eye of anguish.
CORDELIA.All bless’d secrets,All you unpublish’d virtues of the earth,Spring with my tears! Be aidant and remediateIn the good man’s distress! Seek, seek for him;Lest his ungovern’d rage dissolve the lifeThat wants the means to lead it.
Enter a Messenger.
MESSENGER.News, madam;The British powers are marching hitherward.
CORDELIA.’Tis known before. Our preparation standsIn expectation of them. O dear father,It is thy business that I go about;Therefore great FranceMy mourning and important tears hath pitied.No blown ambition doth our arms incite,But love, dear love, and our ag’d father’s right:Soon may I hear and see him!
[_Exeunt._]
SCENE V. A Room in Gloucester’s Castle
Enter Regan and Oswald.
REGAN.But are my brother’s powers set forth?
OSWALD.Ay, madam.
REGAN.Himself in person there?
OSWALD.Madam, with much ado.Your sister is the better soldier.
REGAN.Lord Edmund spake not with your lord at home?
OSWALD.No, madam.
REGAN.What might import my sister’s letter to him?
OSWALD.I know not, lady.
REGAN.Faith, he is posted hence on serious matter.It was great ignorance, Gloucester’s eyes being out,To let him live. Where he arrives he movesAll hearts against us. Edmund, I think, is goneIn pity of his misery, to dispatchHis nighted life; moreover to descryThe strength o’ th’enemy.
OSWALD.I must needs after him, madam, with my letter.
REGAN.Our troops set forth tomorrow; stay with us;The ways are dangerous.
OSWALD.I may not, madam:My lady charg’d my duty in this business.
REGAN.Why should she write to Edmund? Might not youTransport her purposes by word? Belike,Somethings, I know not what, I’ll love thee 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 hereShe gave strange oeillades and most speaking looksTo noble Edmund. I know you are of her bosom.
OSWALD.I, madam?