King Lear

**GLOUCESTER:** Sir, this young fellow’s mother could; whereupon she grew round-wombed, and had indeed, sir, a son for her cradle ere she had a husband for her bed. **GLOUCESTER:** But I have a son, sir, by order of law, some year elder than this, who yet is no dearer in my account: though this knave came something saucily to the world before he was sent for, yet was his mother fair; there was good sport at his making, and the whoreson must be acknowledged. **GLOUCESTER:** He hath been out nine years, and away he shall again. _] **LEAR:** Meantime we shall express our darker purpose. Give me the map there. Know that we have divided In three our kingdom: and ’tis our fast intent To shake all cares and business from our age; Conferring them on younger strengths, while we Unburden’d crawl toward death.

Our son of Cornwall, And you, our no less loving son of Albany, We have this hour a constant will to publish Our daughters’ several dowers, that future strife May be prevented now. The princes, France and Burgundy, Great rivals in our youngest daughter’s love, Long in our court have made their amorous sojourn, And here are to be answer’d. Tell me, my daughters,— Since now we will divest us both of rule, Interest of territory, cares of state,— Which of you shall we say doth love us most? _] What shall Cordelia speak? —What says our second daughter, Our dearest Regan, wife of Cornwall? **REGAN:** Sir, I am made of the self mettle as my sister, And prize me at her worth. —Now, our joy, Although the last and least; to whose young love The vines of France and milk of Burgundy Strive to be interess’d; what can you say to draw A third more opulent than your sisters? **LEAR:** How, how, Cordelia?

**CORDELIA:** Good my lord, You have begot me, bred me, lov’d me: I Return those duties back as are right fit, Obey you, love you, and most honour you. Why have my sisters husbands if they say They love you all? **LEAR:** Let it be so, thy truth then be thy dower: For, by the sacred radiance of the sun, The mysteries of Hecate and the night; By all the operation of the orbs, From whom we do exist and cease to be; Here I disclaim all my paternal care, Propinquity and property of blood, And as a stranger to my heart and me Hold thee from this for ever. **KENT:** Good my liege,— **LEAR:** Peace, Kent! Come not between the dragon and his wrath. _] Hence and avoid my sight! So be my grave my peace, as here I give Her father’s heart from her! Call France. Who stirs? Call Burgundy! Cornwall and Albany, With my two daughters’ dowers digest this third: Let pride, which she calls plainness, marry her.

I do invest you jointly with my power, Pre-eminence, and all the large effects That troop with majesty. Ourself, by monthly course, With reservation of an hundred knights, By you to be sustain’d, shall our abode Make with you by due turn. **KENT:** Let it fall rather, though the fork invade The region of my heart: be Kent unmannerly When Lear is mad. What wouldst thou do, old man? Think’st thou that duty shall have dread to speak, When power to flattery bows? To plainness honour’s bound When majesty falls to folly. **LEAR:** O vassal! _] ALBANY and CORNWALL. **KENT:** Kill thy physician, and the fee bestow Upon the foul disease. on thine allegiance, hear me! Since thou hast sought to make us break our vows, Which we durst never yet, and with strain’d pride To come betwixt our sentences and our power, Which nor our nature, nor our place can bear, Our potency made good, take thy reward.

Five days we do allot thee for provision, To shield thee from disasters of the world; And on the sixth to turn thy hated back Upon our kingdom: if, on the next day following, Thy banish’d trunk be found in our dominions, The moment is thy death. Away! _] And your large speeches may your deeds approve, That good effects may spring from words of love. _] Flourish. **LEAR:** Right noble Burgundy, When she was dear to us, we did hold her so; But now her price is fall’n. **FRANCE:** This is most strange, That she, who even but now was your best object, The argument of your praise, balm of your age, The best, the dearest, should in this trice of time Commit a thing so monstrous, to dismantle So many folds of favour. —a tardiness in nature Which often leaves the history unspoke That it intends to do? My lord of Burgundy, What say you to the lady? Love’s not love When it is mingled with regards that stands Aloof from the entire point.

Will you have her? **CORDELIA:** Peace be with Burgundy! **FRANCE:** Fairest Cordelia, that art most rich, being poor; Most choice forsaken; and most lov’d, despis’d! Thee and thy virtues here I seize upon: Be it lawful, I take up what’s cast away. ’Tis strange that from their cold’st neglect My love should kindle to inflam’d respect. Thy dowerless daughter, King, thrown to my chance, Is queen of us, of ours, and our fair France: Not all the dukes of waterish Burgundy Can buy this unpriz’d precious maid of me. **LEAR:** Thou hast her, France: let her be thine; for we Have no such daughter, nor shall ever see That face of hers again. Therefore be gone Without our grace, our love, our benison. [_Flourish. **CORDELIA:** The jewels of our father, with wash’d eyes Cordelia leaves you: I know you what you are; And like a sister am most loath to call Your faults as they are nam’d.

Love well our father: To your professed bosoms I commit him: But yet, alas, stood I within his grace, I would prefer him to a better place. **GONERIL:** Let your study Be to content your lord, who hath receiv’d you At fortune’s alms. **CORDELIA:** Time shall unfold what plighted cunning hides: Who covers faults, at last shame derides. _] **GONERIL:** Sister, it is not little I have to say of what most nearly appertains to us both. **GONERIL:** There is further compliment of leave-taking between France and him. _]

**EDMUND:** Thou, Nature, art my goddess; to thy law My services are bound. Wherefore should I Stand in the plague of custom, and permit The curiosity of nations to deprive me? For that I am some twelve or fourteen moonshines Lag of a brother? Why bastard? Wherefore base? When my dimensions are as well compact, My mind as generous, and my shape as true As honest madam’s issue? Why brand they us With base? bastardy? Base, base? Who, in the lusty stealth of nature, take More composition and fierce quality Than doth within a dull stale tired bed Go to the creating a whole tribe of fops Got ’tween asleep and wake? Well then, Legitimate Edgar, I must have your land: Our father’s love is to the bastard Edmund As to the legitimate: fine word: legitimate! Well, my legitimate, if this letter speed, And my invention thrive, Edmund the base Shall top the legitimate. I grow, I prosper. Now, gods, stand up for bastards! and France in choler parted!

And the King gone tonight! Prescrib’d his pow’r! Confin’d to exhibition! —Edmund, how now! **GLOUCESTER:** No? What needed then that terrible dispatch of it into your pocket? The quality of nothing hath not such need to hide itself. Let’s see. **EDMUND:** I beseech you, sir, pardon me. **EDMUND:** I shall offend, either to detain or give it. _] ‘This policy and reverence of age makes the world bitter to the best of our times; keeps our fortunes from us till our oldness cannot relish them. I begin to find an idle and fond bondage in the oppression of aged tyranny; who sways not as it hath power, but as it is suffered. Come to me, that of this I may speak more. If our father would sleep till I waked him, you should enjoy half his revenue for ever, and live the beloved of your brother EDGAR.’ Hum! Conspiracy? ’—My son Edgar! Had he a hand to write this? A heart and brain to breed it in? When came this to you?

**EDMUND:** It was not brought me, my lord, there’s the cunning of it. **EDMUND:** Never, my lord. **GLOUCESTER:** O villain, villain! His very opinion in the letter! Abhorred villain! worse than brutish! Go, sirrah, seek him; I’ll apprehend him. **EDMUND:** I do not well know, my lord. If it shall please you to suspend your indignation against my brother till you can derive from him better testimony of his intent, you should run a certain course; where, if you violently proceed against him, mistaking his purpose, it would make a great gap in your own honour, and shake in pieces the heart of his obedience. **GLOUCESTER:** To his father, that so tenderly and entirely loves him. Heaven and earth! Edmund, seek him out; wind me into him, I pray you: frame the business after your own wisdom.

**GLOUCESTER:** These late eclipses in the sun and moon portend no good to us: though the wisdom of Nature can reason it thus and thus, yet nature finds itself scourged by the sequent effects. Love cools, friendship falls off, brothers divide: in cities, mutinies; in countries, discord; in palaces, treason; and the bond cracked ’twixt son and father. This villain of mine comes under the prediction; there’s son against father: the King falls from bias of nature; there’s father against child. We have seen the best of our time. Machinations, hollowness, treachery, and all ruinous disorders follow us disquietly to our graves.

_] **EDMUND:** This is the excellent foppery of the world, that, when we are sick in fortune, often the surfeits of our own behaviour, we make guilty of our disasters the sun, the moon, and the stars; as if we were villains on necessity; fools by heavenly compulsion; knaves, thieves, and treachers by spherical predominance; drunkards, liars, and adulterers by an enforced obedience of planetary influence; and all that we are evil in, by a divine thrusting on. An admirable evasion of whoremaster man, to lay his goatish disposition to the charge of a star. My father compounded with my mother under the dragon’s tail, and my nativity was under Ursa Major, so that it follows I am rough and lecherous. Fut! I should have been that I am, had the maidenliest star in the firmament twinkled on my bastardizing. Enter Edgar. —O, these eclipses do portend these divisions! **EDMUND:** Parted you in good terms? **EDMUND:** That’s my fear.

I pray you have a continent forbearance till the speed of his rage goes slower; and, as I say, retire with me to my lodging, from whence I will fitly bring you to hear my lord speak: pray ye, go; there’s my key. **EDMUND:** Brother, I advise you to the best; I am no honest man if there be any good meaning toward you: I have told you what I have seen and heard. and a brother noble, Whose nature is so far from doing harms That he suspects none; on whose foolish honesty My practices ride easy! I see the business. _]

**GONERIL:** By day and night, he wrongs me; every hour He flashes into one gross crime or other, That sets us all at odds; I’ll not endure it: His knights grow riotous, and himself upbraids us On every trifle. When he returns from hunting, I will not speak with him; say I am sick. **GONERIL:** Put on what weary negligence you please, You and your fellows; I’d have it come to question: If he distaste it, let him to our sister, Whose mind and mine, I know, in that are one, Not to be overruled. Idle old man, That still would manage those authorities That he hath given away! Now, by my life, Old fools are babes again; and must be us’d With checks as flatteries, when they are seen abus’d. **GONERIL:** And let his knights have colder looks among you; What grows of it, no matter; advise your fellows so; I would breed from hence occasions, and I shall, That I may speak. I’ll write straight to my sister To hold my very course. _]

**KENT:** If but as well I other accents borrow, That can my speech defuse, my good intent May carry through itself to that full issue For which I rais’d my likeness. Now, banish’d Kent, If thou canst serve where thou dost stand condemn’d, So may it come, thy master, whom thou lov’st, Shall find thee full of labours. Horns within. **LEAR:** What dost thou profess? **LEAR:** If thou be’st as poor for a subject as he’s for a king, thou art poor enough. **KENT:** I can keep honest counsel, ride, run, mar a curious tale in telling it and deliver a plain message bluntly. **LEAR:** Follow me; thou shalt serve me. If I like thee no worse after dinner, I will not part from thee yet. Dinner, ho, dinner! my fool? _] Enter Oswald. _] **LEAR:** What says the fellow there? _] Where’s my fool? Ho, I think the world’s asleep. Re-enter Knight.

**LEAR:** Thou but rememberest me of mine own conception: I have perceived a most faint neglect of late; which I have rather blamed as mine own jealous curiosity than as a very pretence and purpose of unkindness: I will look further into’t. But where’s my fool? **LEAR:** No more of that; I have noted it well. _] Re-enter Oswald. _] **LEAR:** I thank thee, fellow. **KENT:** Come, sir, arise, away! I’ll teach you differences: away, away! go to; have you wisdom? **FOOL:** Why, for taking one’s part that’s out of favour. Nay, an thou canst not smile as the wind sits, thou’lt catch cold shortly: there, take my coxcomb: why, this fellow has banish’d two on’s daughters, and did the third a blessing against his will; if thou follow him, thou must needs wear my coxcomb. How now, nuncle! **FOOL:** If I gave them all my living, I’d keep my coxcombs myself. **FOOL:** Then ’tis like the breath of an unfee’d lawyer, you gave me nothing for’t.

**FOOL:** That lord that counsell’d thee To give away thy land, Come place him here by me, Do thou for him stand. **FOOL:** No, faith; lords and great men will not let me; if I had a monopoly out, they would have part on’t and ladies too, they will not let me have all the fool to myself; they’ll be snatching. **FOOL:** Why, after I have cut the egg i’ the middle and eat up the meat, the two crowns of the egg. When thou clovest thy crown i’ the middle and gav’st away both parts, thou bor’st thine ass on thy back o’er the dirt: thou hadst little wit in thy bald crown when thou gav’st thy golden one away. _] Then they for sudden joy did weep, And I for sorrow sung, That such a king should play bo-peep, And go the fools among. **FOOL:** I marvel what kin thou and thy daughters are: they’ll have me whipped for speaking true; thou’lt have me whipped for lying; and sometimes I am whipped for holding my peace.

I had rather be any kind o’thing than a fool: and yet I would not be thee, nuncle: thou hast pared thy wit o’both sides, and left nothing i’ the middle: here comes one o’ the parings. **LEAR:** How now, daughter? What makes that frontlet on? **FOOL:** Thou wast a pretty fellow when thou hadst no need to care for her frowning. Now thou art an O without a figure: I am better than thou art now. _] Yes, forsooth, I will hold my tongue. So your face bids me, though you say nothing. **GONERIL:** Not only, sir, this your all-licens’d fool, But other of your insolent retinue Do hourly carp and quarrel; breaking forth In rank and not-to-be-endured riots. **FOOL:** For you know, nuncle, The hedge-sparrow fed the cuckoo so long That it’s had it head bit off by it young. **FOOL:** May not an ass know when the cart draws the horse? Whoop, Jug! **LEAR:** Doth any here know me? speak thus? Where are his eyes?

Either his notion weakens, his discernings Are lethargied. ’Tis not so! **GONERIL:** This admiration, sir, is much o’ the favour Of other your new pranks. I do beseech you To understand my purposes aright: As you are old and reverend, you should be wise. Here do you keep a hundred knights and squires; Men so disorder’d, so debosh’d and bold That this our court, infected with their manners, Shows like a riotous inn. Epicurism and lust Makes it more like a tavern or a brothel Than a grac’d palace. The shame itself doth speak For instant remedy. **LEAR:** Darkness and devils! Saddle my horses; call my train together. Degenerate bastard! **GONERIL:** You strike my people; and your disorder’d rabble Make servants of their betters. _] O, sir, are you come? Is it your will? —Prepare my horses. _] Detested kite, thou liest.

My train are men of choice and rarest parts, That all particulars of duty know; And in the most exact regard support The worships of their name. O most small fault, How ugly didst thou in Cordelia show! Which, like an engine, wrench’d my frame of nature From the fix’d place; drew from my heart all love, And added to the gall. _] Beat at this gate that let thy folly in And thy dear judgement out! **LEAR:** It may be so, my lord. Hear, nature, hear; dear goddess, hear! Suspend thy purpose, if thou didst intend To make this creature fruitful! Into her womb convey sterility! Dry up in her the organs of increase; And from her derogate body never spring A babe to honour her! If she must teem, Create her child of spleen, that it may live And be a thwart disnatur’d torment to her!

Let it stamp wrinkles in her brow of youth; With cadent tears fret channels in her cheeks; Turn all her mother’s pains and benefits To laughter and contempt; that she may feel How sharper than a serpent’s tooth it is To have a thankless child! **GONERIL:** Never afflict yourself to know more of it; But let his disposition have that scope That dotage gives it. **LEAR:** What, fifty of my followers at a clap? _] Life and death! I am asham’d That thou hast power to shake my manhood thus; That these hot tears, which break from me perforce, Should make thee worth them. Blasts and fogs upon thee! Th’untented woundings of a father’s curse Pierce every sense about thee! Old fond eyes, Beweep this cause again, I’ll pluck ye out, And cast you with the waters that you lose To temper clay. Ha! Let it be so.

I have another daughter, Who, I am sure, is kind and comfortable: When she shall hear this of thee, with her nails She’ll flay thy wolvish visage. **ALBANY:** I cannot be so partial, Goneril, To the great love I bear you,— **GONERIL:** Pray you, content. **FOOL:** Nuncle Lear, nuncle Lear, tarry and take the fool with thee. ’Tis politic and safe to let him keep At point a hundred knights: yes, that on every dream, Each buzz, each fancy, each complaint, dislike, He may enguard his dotage with their powers, And hold our lives in mercy. **GONERIL:** Safer than trust too far: Let me still take away the harms I fear, Not fear still to be taken: I know his heart. What he hath utter’d I have writ my sister: If she sustain him and his hundred knights, When I have show’d th’unfitness,— Re-enter Oswald. How now, Oswald!

**GONERIL:** Take you some company, and away to horse: Inform her full of my particular fear; And thereto add such reasons of your own As may compact it more. _] No, no, my lord! _]

**LEAR:** Go you before to Gloucester with these letters: acquaint my daughter no further with anything you know than comes from her demand out of the letter. **FOOL:** She’ll taste as like this as a crab does to a crab. **LEAR:** I will forget my nature. So kind a father! **FOOL:** Thy asses are gone about ’em. **LEAR:** O, let me not be mad, not mad, sweet heaven! Keep me in temper; I would not be mad! Enter Gentleman. _]

**CURAN:** And you, sir. **CURAN:** Nay, I know not. **CURAN:** You may do, then, in time. _] **EDMUND:** The Duke be here tonight? best! This weaves itself perforce into my business. My father hath set guard to take my brother; And I have one thing, of a queasy question, Which I must act. Briefness and fortune work! Brother, a word, descend, brother, I say! Enter Edgar. My father watches: O sir, fly this place; Intelligence is given where you are hid; You have now the good advantage of the night. Have you not spoken ’gainst the Duke of Cornwall? He’s coming hither; now, i’ the night, i’ the haste, And Regan with him: have you nothing said Upon his party ’gainst the Duke of Albany? **EDMUND:** I hear my father coming:—pardon me; In cunning I must draw my sword upon you: Draw: seem to defend yourself: now quit you well. Yield: come before my father. Light, ho, here! Fly, brother. _] I have seen drunkards Do more than this in sport.

Father, father! Stop, stop! No help? **EDMUND:** Fled this way, sir. When by no means he could,— **GLOUCESTER:** Pursue him, ho! **GLOUCESTER:** Let him fly far; Not in this land shall he remain uncaught; And found—dispatch’d. dost thou think, If I would stand against thee, would the reposal Of any trust, virtue, or worth in thee Make thy words faith’d? **GLOUCESTER:** O strange and fast’ned villain! Would he deny his letter, said he? _] Hark, the Duke’s trumpets! I know not why he comes. All ports I’ll bar; the villain shall not scape; The Duke must grant me that: besides, his picture I will send far and near, that all the kingdom May have due note of him; and of my land, Loyal and natural boy, I’ll work the means To make thee capable. **REGAN:** If it be true, all vengeance comes too short Which can pursue th’offender. **REGAN:** What, did my father’s godson seek your life?

**REGAN:** No marvel then though he were ill affected: ’Tis they have put him on the old man’s death, To have the expense and waste of his revenues. **CORNWALL:** Nor I, assure thee, Regan. **CORNWALL:** If he be taken, he shall never more Be fear’d of doing harm: make your own purpose, How in my strength you please. **REGAN:** Thus out of season, threading dark-ey’d night: Occasions, noble Gloucester, of some poise, Wherein we must have use of your advice. Our father he hath writ, so hath our sister, Of differences, which I best thought it fit To answer from our home; the several messengers From hence attend dispatch. [_Exeunt. _]

**OSWALD:** Why dost thou use me thus? **KENT:** What a brazen-faced varlet art thou, to deny thou knowest me! Is it two days ago since I tripped up thy heels and beat thee before the King? _] **OSWALD:** Away! murder! **EDMUND:** How now! What’s the matter? arms! **CORNWALL:** Keep peace, upon your lives, he dies that strikes again. **CORNWALL:** What is your difference? **KENT:** No marvel, you have so bestirr’d your valour. thou unnecessary letter! My lord, if you’ll give me leave, I will tread this unbolted villain into mortar and daub the walls of a jakes with him. **CORNWALL:** Peace, sirrah! **KENT:** That such a slave as this should wear a sword, Who wears no honesty.

Such smiling rogues as these, Like rats, oft bite the holy cords a-twain Which are too intrince t’unloose; smooth every passion That in the natures of their lords rebel; Bring oil to fire, snow to their colder moods; Renege, affirm, and turn their halcyon beaks With every gale and vary of their masters, Knowing naught, like dogs, but following. A plague upon your epileptic visage! Smile you my speeches, as I were a fool? **GLOUCESTER:** How fell you out? **CORNWALL:** Why dost thou call him knave? **CORNWALL:** This is some fellow Who, having been prais’d for bluntness, doth affect A saucy roughness, and constrains the garb Quite from his nature: he cannot flatter, he, An honest mind and plain, he must speak truth! An they will take it, so; if not, he’s plain. **KENT:** To go out of my dialect, which you discommend so much. **CORNWALL:** Fetch forth the stocks! **CORNWALL:** Fetch forth the stocks! **REGAN:** Till noon!

_] **CORNWALL:** This is a fellow of the selfsame colour Our sister speaks of. **GLOUCESTER:** Let me beseech your grace not to do so: His fault is much, and the good King his master Will check him for’t: your purpos’d low correction Is such as basest and contemned’st wretches For pilferings and most common trespasses, Are punish’d with. **REGAN:** My sister may receive it much more worse, To have her gentleman abus’d, assaulted, For following her affairs. **KENT:** Pray do not, sir: I have watch’d, and travell’d hard; Some time I shall sleep out, the rest I’ll whistle. _] **KENT:** Good King, that must approve the common saw, Thou out of heaven’s benediction com’st To the warm sun. Approach, thou beacon to this under globe, That by thy comfortable beams I may Peruse this letter. Nothing almost sees miracles But misery. I know ’tis from Cordelia, Who hath most fortunately been inform’d Of my obscured course.

And shall find time From this enormous state, seeking to give Losses their remedies. All weary and o’erwatch’d, Take vantage, heavy eyes, not to behold This shameful lodging. _]

Enter Edgar. **EDGAR:** I heard myself proclaim’d, And by the happy hollow of a tree Escap’d the hunt. No port is free, no place That guard and most unusual vigilance Does not attend my taking. While I may scape I will preserve myself: and am bethought To take the basest and most poorest shape That ever penury in contempt of man, Brought near to beast: my face I’ll grime with filth, Blanket my loins; elf all my hair in knots, And with presented nakedness outface The winds and persecutions of the sky. The country gives me proof and precedent Of Bedlam beggars, who, with roaring voices, Strike in their numb’d and mortified bare arms Pins, wooden pricks, nails, sprigs of rosemary; And with this horrible object, from low farms, Poor pelting villages, sheep-cotes, and mills, Sometime with lunatic bans, sometime with prayers, Enforce their charity. Poor Turlygod! poor Tom, That’s something yet: Edgar I nothing am. [_Exit._]

**LEAR:** Ha! he wears cruel garters. **LEAR:** They durst not do’t. **KENT:** My lord, when at their home I did commend your highness’ letters to them, Ere I was risen from the place that show’d My duty kneeling, came there a reeking post, Stew’d in his haste, half breathless, panting forth From Goneril his mistress salutations; Deliver’d letters, spite of intermission, Which presently they read; on those contents, They summon’d up their meiny, straight took horse; Commanded me to follow and attend The leisure of their answer; gave me cold looks: And meeting here the other messenger, Whose welcome I perceiv’d had poison’d mine, Being the very fellow which of late Display’d so saucily against your highness, Having more man than wit about me, drew; He rais’d the house with loud and coward cries. **FOOL:** Winter’s not gone yet, if the wild geese fly that way.

Fathers that wear rags Do make their children blind, But fathers that bear bags Shall see their children kind. Fortune, that arrant whore, Ne’er turns the key to th’ poor. _Hysterica passio_, down, thou climbing sorrow, Thy element’s below! **KENT:** None. **FOOL:** We’ll set thee to school to an ant, to teach thee there’s no labouring i’the winter. All that follow their noses are led by their eyes but blind men; and there’s not a nose among twenty but can smell him that’s stinking. Let go thy hold when a great wheel runs down a hill, lest it break thy neck with following it; but the great one that goes upward, let him draw thee after. When a wise man gives thee better counsel, give me mine again: I would have none but knaves follow it, since a fool gives it. That sir which serves and seeks for gain, And follows but for form, Will pack when it begins to rain, And leave thee in the storm. **FOOL:** Not i’ the stocks, fool.

**LEAR:** Deny to speak with me? they are weary? They have travell’d all the night? Mere fetches; The images of revolt and flying off. confusion! Fiery? What quality? **LEAR:** Inform’d them! **LEAR:** The King would speak with Cornwall; the dear father Would with his daughter speak, commands, tends, service, Are they inform’d of this? My breath and blood! Fiery? _] Death on my state! Wherefore Should he sit here? This act persuades me That this remotion of the Duke and her Is practice only. Give me my servant forth. _] **LEAR:** O me, my heart, my rising heart! ’ ’Twas her brother that, in pure kindness to his horse buttered his hay. [_To Kent_] O, are you free? **REGAN:** I pray you, sir, take patience. **REGAN:** I cannot think my sister in the least Would fail her obligation.

**REGAN:** O, sir, you are old; Nature in you stands on the very verge Of her confine: you should be rul’d and led By some discretion, that discerns your state Better than you yourself. **LEAR:** Ask her forgiveness? Do you but mark how this becomes the house? ’ **REGAN:** Good sir, no more! _] Never, Regan: She hath abated me of half my train; Look’d black upon me; struck me with her tongue, Most serpent-like, upon the very heart. All the stor’d vengeances of heaven fall On her ingrateful top! **LEAR:** You nimble lightnings, dart your blinding flames Into her scornful eyes! **REGAN:** O the blest gods! **LEAR:** No, Regan, thou shalt never have my curse. Thy tender-hefted nature shall not give Thee o’er to harshness. ’Tis not in thee To grudge my pleasures, to cut off my train, To bandy hasty words, to scant my sizes, And, in conclusion, to oppose the bolt Against my coming in.

**REGAN:** I know’t, my sister’s: this approves her letter, That she would soon be here. Enter Oswald. **LEAR:** This is a slave, whose easy borrowed pride Dwells in the fickle grace of her he follows. **LEAR:** Who stock’d my servant? Regan, I have good hope Thou didst not know on’t. Who comes here? O heavens! Enter Goneril. _] Art not asham’d to look upon this beard? **GONERIL:** Why not by the hand, sir? How have I offended? **LEAR:** O sides, you are too tough! Will you yet hold? **LEAR:** You? **REGAN:** I pray you, father, being weak, seem so. **LEAR:** Return to her, and fifty men dismiss’d? No, rather I abjure all roofs, and choose To wage against the enmity o’ the air; To be a comrade with the wolf and owl, Necessity’s sharp pinch! Return with her? Why, the hot-blooded France, that dowerless took Our youngest born, I could as well be brought To knee his throne, and, squire-like, pension beg To keep base life afoot.

Return with her? **LEAR:** I prythee, daughter, do not make me mad: I will not trouble thee, my child; farewell: We’ll no more meet, no more see one another. But yet thou art my flesh, my blood, my daughter; Or rather a disease that’s in my flesh, Which I must needs call mine. Thou art a boil, A plague sore, or embossed carbuncle In my corrupted blood. **REGAN:** Not altogether so, I look’d not for you yet, nor am provided For your fit welcome. **REGAN:** I dare avouch it, sir: what, fifty followers? Is it not well? What should you need of more? Yea, or so many, sith that both charge and danger Speak ’gainst so great a number? **REGAN:** Why not, my lord? If then they chanc’d to slack ye, We could control them. **LEAR:** Made you my guardians, my depositaries; But kept a reservation to be followed With such a number. **GONERIL:** Hear me, my lord: What need you five-and-twenty? Ten? Or five?

**LEAR:** O, reason not the need: our basest beggars Are in the poorest thing superfluous: Allow not nature more than nature needs, Man’s life is cheap as beast’s. Thou art a lady; If only to go warm were gorgeous, Why, nature needs not what thou gorgeous wear’st Which scarcely keeps thee warm. But, for true need,— You heavens, give me that patience, patience I need! You see me here, you gods, a poor old man, As full of grief as age; wretched in both! If it be you that stirs these daughters’ hearts Against their father, fool me not so much To bear it tamely; touch me with noble anger, And let not women’s weapons, water-drops, Stain my man’s cheeks! No, you unnatural hags, I will have such revenges on you both That all the world shall,—I will do such things,— What they are yet, I know not; but they shall be The terrors of the earth. **GONERIL:** So am I purpos’d. Where is my lord of Gloucester?

**REGAN:** O, sir, to wilful men The injuries that they themselves procure Must be their schoolmasters. Shut up your doors. **CORNWALL:** Shut up your doors, my lord; ’tis a wild night. _]

A storm with thunder and lightning. **KENT:** I know you. **GENTLEMAN:** Contending with the fretful elements; Bids the wind blow the earth into the sea, Or swell the curled waters ’bove the main, That things might change or cease; tears his white hair, Which the impetuous blasts with eyeless rage, Catch in their fury and make nothing of; Strives in his little world of man to outscorn The to-and-fro-conflicting wind and rain. **KENT:** Sir, I do know you; And dare, upon the warrant of my 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 not, that their great stars Throne’d and set high; servants, who seem no less, Which are to France the spies and speculations Intelligent of our state.

—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. **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 shall, show her this ring; And she will tell you who your fellow is That yet you do not know. Fie on this storm! _]

Storm continues. **LEAR:** Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! blow! You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout Till you have drench’d our steeples, drown’d the cocks! You sulphurous and thought-executing fires, Vaunt-couriers to oak-cleaving thunderbolts, Singe my white head! And thou, all-shaking thunder, Strike flat the thick rotundity o’ the world! **FOOL:** O nuncle, court holy-water in a dry house is better than this rain-water out o’ door. **LEAR:** Rumble thy bellyful! spout, rain! Nor rain, wind, thunder, fire are my daughters; I tax not you, you elements, with unkindness. I never gave you kingdom, call’d you children; You owe me no subscription: 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 will with two pernicious daughters join Your high-engender’d battles ’gainst a head So old and white as this! O!

**FOOL:** He that has a house to put’s head in has a good head-piece. The codpiece that will house Before the head has any, The head and he shall louse: So beggars marry many. The man that makes his toe What he his heart should make Shall of a corn cry woe, And turn his sleep to wake. **LEAR:** No, I will be the pattern of all patience; I will say nothing. **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 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 never Remember to have heard. **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 crimes Unwhipp’d of justice.

Hide thee, thou bloody hand; Thou perjur’d, and thou simular of virtue That art incestuous. Caitiff, to pieces shake That under covert and convenient seeming Hast practis’d on man’s life: close pent-up guilts, Rive your concealing continents, and cry These dreadful summoners grace. **KENT:** Alack, bareheaded! **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. **LEAR:** True, boy. _] **FOOL:** This is a brave night to cool a courtezan.

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’ 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 Albion Come to great confusion: Then comes the time, who lives to see’t, That going shall be us’d with feet. _]

**GLOUCESTER:** Alack, alack, Edmund, I like not this unnatural dealing. **GLOUCESTER:** 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’s part of a power already footed: we must incline to the King. I will look 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. _] **EDMUND:** This courtesy, forbid thee, shall the Duke Instantly know; and of that letter too. _]

Storm continues. **KENT:** I had rather break mine own. **LEAR:** Thou think’st ’tis much that this contentious storm Invades 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’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 endure: In such a night as this! O Regan, Goneril! **LEAR:** Prythee go in thyself; seek thine own ease: This tempest will not give me leave to ponder On things would hurt me more. _] In, boy; go first. You houseless poverty, Nay, get thee 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 you From seasons such as these? O, I have ta’en Too little care of this! _] Fathom and half, fathom and half! _] **FOOL:** Come not in here, nuncle, here’s a spirit. **KENT:** Give me thy hand. **KENT:** What art thou that dost grumble there i’ the straw? Come forth. the foul fiend follows me! Through the sharp hawthorn blows the cold wind. **LEAR:** Didst thou give all to thy two daughters? **EDGAR:** Who gives anything to poor Tom? Whom the foul fiend hath led through fire and through flame, through ford and whirlpool, o’er bog and quagmire; that hath laid knives under his pillow 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 wits! Tom’s a-cold. O, do, de, do, de, do, de. Bless thee from whirlwinds, star-blasting, and taking! Do poor Tom some charity, whom the foul fiend vexes. _] **LEAR:** What, have his daughters brought him to this pass? Couldst thou save nothing? 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? **EDGAR:** Take heed o’ th’ foul fiend: obey thy parents; keep thy word justly; swear not; commit not with man’s sworn spouse; set not thy sweet-heart on proud array. **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, 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-paramour’d the Turk. False of heart, light of ear, bloody of hand; hog in sloth, fox in stealth, wolf in greediness, dog in madness, lion in prey. Let not the creaking of shoes nor the rustling of silks betray thy poor heart to woman. Keep thy foot out of brothels, thy hand out of plackets, thy pen from lender’s book, and defy the foul fiend. Still through the hawthorn blows the cold wind: says suum, mun, nonny. _] **LEAR:** Why, thou wert better in thy grave than to answer with thy uncovered body this extremity 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. here’s three on’s 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!

_] **FOOL:** Prythee, nuncle, be contented; ’tis a naughty 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. **EDGAR:** This is the foul fiend Flibbertigibbet: he begins at curfew, and walks till the first cock; he gives the web and the pin, squints the eye, and makes the harelip; mildews the white wheat, and hurts the poor creature of earth. **KENT:** How fares your grace? **KENT:** Who’s there? **GLOUCESTER:** What are you there? **EDGAR:** Poor Tom; that eats the swimming frog, the toad, the todpole, the wall-newt and the water; 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 tithing to tithing, and stocked, punished, and imprisoned; who hath had three suits to his back, 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 year. Beware my follower. **LEAR:** First let me talk with this philosopher. **LEAR:** I’ll talk a word with this same learned Theban. **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. _] The grief hath craz’d my wits. What a night’s this! **LEAR:** O, cry you mercy, sir. _]

**EDMUND:** 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 of France. **CORNWALL:** True or false, it hath made thee Earl of Gloucester. _] If I find him comforting the King, it will stuff his suspicion more fully. _]

**GLOUCESTER:** Here is better than the open air; take it thankfully. _] **EDGAR:** Frateretto calls me; and tells me Nero is an angler in the lake of darkness. _] Thou, sapient sir, sit here. — **EDGAR:** Look, where he stands and glares! Want’st thou eyes at trial, madam? **EDGAR:** The foul fiend haunts poor Tom in the voice of a nightingale. Hoppedance cries in Tom’s belly for two white herring. **KENT:** How do you, sir? **LEAR:** I’ll see their trial first. **EDGAR:** Let us deal justly. Sleepest or wakest thou, jolly shepherd? Thy sheep be in the corn; And for one blast of thy minikin mouth Thy sheep shall take no harm. **LEAR:** Arraign her first; ’tis Goneril. **FOOL:** Come hither, mistress. **LEAR:** And here’s another, whose warp’d looks proclaim What store her heart is made on. Stop her there! fire! Corruption in the place! **KENT:** O pity! **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. **LEAR:** Then let them anatomize Regan; see what breeds about her heart. _] You, sir, I entertain you for one of my hundred; only I do not like the fashion of your garments. **LEAR:** Make no noise, make no noise; draw the curtains. So, so. **FOOL:** And I’ll go to bed at noon. **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’t And drive towards Dover, 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 assured loss. **KENT:** Oppressed nature sleeps. This rest might yet have balm’d thy broken sinews, Which, if convenience will not allow, Stand in hard cure. _] **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’erskip When 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! _]

**CORNWALL:** Post speedily to my lord your husband, show him this letter: the army of France is landed. **CORNWALL:** 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 preparation: we are bound to the like. Our posts shall be swift and intelligent betwixt us. Farewell, dear sister, farewell, my lord of Gloucester. Enter Oswald. How now! _] Though well we may not pass upon his life Without the form of justice, yet our power Shall do a courtesy to our wrath, which men May blame, but not control. Who’s there? The traitor? **GLOUCESTER:** What mean your graces? Good my friends, consider you are my guests. _] **REGAN:** Hard, hard. **CORNWALL:** To this chair bind him. **GLOUCESTER:** Naughty lady, These hairs which thou dost ravish from my chin Will quicken, and accuse thee.

I am your host: With robber’s hands my hospitable favours You should not ruffle thus. **REGAN:** To whose hands have you sent the lunatic King? **REGAN:** Wherefore to Dover? Wast thou not charg’d at peril,— **CORNWALL:** Wherefore to Dover? **GLOUCESTER:** Because I would not see thy cruel nails Pluck out his poor old eyes; nor thy fierce sister In his anointed flesh stick boarish fangs. 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 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.’ **CORNWALL:** See’t shalt thou never. Fellows, hold the chair. —O cruel! **FIRST SERVANT:** If you did wear a beard upon your chin, I’d shake it on this quarrel. [_Draws. They fight. _] Give me thy sword. _] **FIRST SERVANT:** O, I am slain!

My lord, you have one eye left To see some mischief on him. _] **CORNWALL:** Lest it see more, prevent it. Out, vile jelly! _] **GLOUCESTER:** All dark and comfortless. Where’s my son Edmund? **REGAN:** Out, treacherous villain! **GLOUCESTER:** O my follies! Then Edgar was abus’d. **REGAN:** Go thrust him out at gates, and let him smell His way to Dover. How is’t, my lord? **CORNWALL:** I have receiv’d a hurt: follow me, lady. Turn out that eyeless villain. Throw this slave Upon the dunghill. **THIRD SERVANT:** Go thou: I’ll fetch some flax and whites of eggs To apply to his bleeding face. _]

**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 worst Owes nothing to thy blasts. Enter Gloucester, led by an Old Man. But who comes here? My father, poorly led? World, world, O world! **GLOUCESTER:** Away, get thee away; good friend, be gone. **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 defects Prove our commodities. O dear son Edgar, The food of thy abused father’s wrath! **OLD MAN:** How now! _] O gods! Who is’t can say ‘I am at the worst’? _] And worse I may be yet. **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 son Came then into my mind, and yet my mind Was then scarce friends with him. I have heard more since. _] How should this be? Bad is the trade that must play fool to sorrow, Angering itself and others. **GLOUCESTER:** Then prythee get thee away. **GLOUCESTER:** ’Tis the time’s plague when madmen lead the blind. _] And yet I must. **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! Five fiends have been in poor Tom at once; of lust, as Obidicut; Hobbididence, prince of darkness; Mahu, of stealing; Modo, of murder; Flibbertigibbet, of mopping and mowing, who since possesses chambermaids and waiting women. **GLOUCESTER:** Here, take this purse, thou whom the heaven’s plagues Have humbled to all strokes: that I am wretched Makes thee the happier.

Heavens deal so still! Let the superfluous and lust-dieted man, That slaves your ordinance, that will not see Because he does not feel, feel your power quickly; So distribution should undo excess, And each man have enough. _]

**GONERIL:** Welcome, my lord. I marvel our mild husband Not met us on the way. **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 treachery And of the loyal service of his son When I inform’d him, then he call’d me sot, And told me I had turn’d the wrong side out. _] Then shall you go no further. It is the cowish terror of his spirit, That dares not undertake. He’ll not feel wrongs Which tie him to an answer. Our wishes on the way May prove effects. Back, Edmund, to my brother; Hasten his musters and conduct his powers. I must change names at home, and give the distaff Into my husband’s hands. This trusty servant Shall pass between us. _] Wear this; spare speech; Decline your head. This kiss, if it durst speak, Would stretch thy spirits up into the air. _] **GONERIL:** My most dear Gloucester.

O, the difference of man and man! **ALBANY:** O Goneril! You are not worth the dust which the rude wind Blows in your face! I fear your disposition; That nature which contemns its origin Cannot be bordered certain in itself. **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! **GONERIL:** Milk-liver’d man! That bear’st a cheek for blows, a head for wrongs; Who hast not in thy brows an eye discerning Thine honour from thy suffering; that not know’st Fools do those villains pity who are punish’d Ere they have done their mischief. Where’s thy drum? ’ **ALBANY:** See thyself, devil!

**ALBANY:** Thou changed and self-cover’d thing, for shame! Be-monster not thy feature! Were’t my fitness To let these hands obey my blood, They are apt enough to dislocate and tear Thy flesh and bones. **GONERIL:** Marry, your manhood, mew! **ALBANY:** This shows you are above, You justicers, that these our nether crimes So speedily can venge! But, O poor Gloucester! **MESSENGER:** Both, both, my lord. _] One way I like this well; But being widow, and my Gloucester with her, May all the building in my fancy pluck Upon my hateful life. Another way The news is not so tart. **ALBANY:** Gloucester, I live To thank thee for the love thou show’dst the King, And to revenge thine eyes. _]

**GENTLEMAN:** Ay, sir; she took them, read them in my presence; And now and then an ample tear trill’d down Her delicate cheek. **GENTLEMAN:** Not to a rage: patience and sorrow strove Who should express her goodliest. You have seen Sunshine and rain at once: her smiles and tears Were like a better day. Those happy smilets That play’d on her ripe lip seem’d not to know What guests were in her eyes; which parted thence As pearls from diamonds dropp’d. **GENTLEMAN:** Faith, once or twice she heav’d the name of ‘father’ Pantingly forth, as if it press’d her heart; Cried ‘Sisters, sisters! sisters! sisters! i’ the night? Let pity not be believ’d!’ **KENT:** It is the stars, The stars above us govern our conditions; Else one self mate and make could not beget Such different issues. **KENT:** A sovereign shame so elbows him. **KENT:** Well, sir, I’ll bring you to our master Lear And leave you to attend him.

Some dear cause Will in concealment wrap me up awhile; When I am known aright, you shall not grieve Lending me this acquaintance. _]

**CORDELIA:** Alack, ’tis he: why, he was met even now As 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 grow In our sustaining corn. **CORDELIA:** All bless’d secrets, All you unpublish’d virtues of the earth, Spring with my tears! Be aidant and remediate In the good man’s distress! Seek, seek for him; Lest his ungovern’d rage dissolve the life That wants the means to lead it. **CORDELIA:** ’Tis known before. Our preparation stands In expectation of them. O dear father, It is thy business that I go about; Therefore great France My mourning and important tears hath pitied. _]

**OSWALD:** Madam, with much ado. **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 moves All hearts against us. **REGAN:** Why should she write to Edmund? Might not you Transport her purposes by word? Belike, Somethings, I know not what, I’ll love thee much. **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 speaking looks To noble Edmund. **REGAN:** I speak in understanding; y’are, I know’t: Therefore I do advise you take this note: My lord is dead; Edmund and I have talk’d, And more convenient is he for my hand Than for your lady’s. You may gather more. If you do find him, pray you give him this; And when your mistress hears thus much from you, I pray desire her call her wisdom to her. So, fare you well.

**OSWALD:** Would I could meet him, madam! _]

**EDGAR:** You do climb up it now. **EDGAR:** Horrible steep. **GLOUCESTER:** So may it be indeed. **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 midway air Show scarce so gross as beetles. Half way down Hangs one that gathers samphire—dreadful trade! Methinks he seems no bigger than his head. The fishermen that walk upon the beach Appear like mice; and yond tall anchoring bark, Diminish’d to her cock; her cock a buoy Almost too small for sight: the murmuring surge That on th’unnumber’d idle pebble chafes Cannot be heard so high. **EDGAR:** Give me your hand. You are now within a foot of th’extreme verge. **GLOUCESTER:** Let go my hand. Here, friend, ’s another purse; in it a jewel Well worth a poor man’s taking. Fairies and gods Prosper it with thee! **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 opposeless wills, My snuff and loathed part of nature should Burn itself out. If Edgar live, O, bless him! [_Gloucester leaps, and falls along_] And yet I know not how conceit may rob The treasury of life when life itself Yields to the theft. Had he been where he thought, By this had thought been past. Alive or dead? friend! speak! Thus might he pass indeed: yet he revives. **EDGAR:** Hadst thou been aught but gossamer, feathers, air, So many fathom down precipitating, Thou’dst shiver’d like an egg: but thou dost breathe; Hast heavy substance; bleed’st not; speak’st; art sound. Ten masts at each make not the altitude Which thou hast perpendicularly fell. Thy life is a miracle. **EDGAR:** From the dread summit of this chalky bourn.

Look up a-height, the shrill-gorg’d lark so far Cannot be seen or heard. **GLOUCESTER:** Alack, I have no eyes. **EDGAR:** Give me your arm. Up, so. How is’t? Feel you your legs? **EDGAR:** This is above all strangeness. **EDGAR:** As I stood here below, methought his eyes Were two full moons; he had a thousand noses, Horns whelk’d and waved like the enraged sea. It was some fiend. **GLOUCESTER:** I do remember now: henceforth I’ll bear Affliction till it do cry out itself ‘Enough, enough,’ and die. **EDGAR:** Bear free and patient thoughts. But who comes here? Enter Lear, fantastically dressed up with flowers. **LEAR:** No, they cannot touch me for coining. **LEAR:** Nature’s above art in that respect. There’s your press money. That fellow handles his bow like a crow-keeper: draw me a clothier’s yard. Look, look, a mouse! Peace, peace, this piece of toasted cheese will do’t. There’s my gauntlet; I’ll prove it on a giant.

Bring up the brown bills. i’ the clout, i’ the clout. Hewgh! **LEAR:** Ha! Goneril with a white beard! They flattered me like a dog; and told me I had white hairs in my beard ere the black ones were there. To say ‘ay’ and ‘no’ to everything I said ‘ay’ and ‘no’ to was no good divinity. When the rain came to wet me once, and the wind to make me chatter; when the thunder would not peace at my bidding; there I found ’em, there I smelt ’em out. **LEAR:** Ay, every inch a king. When I do stare, see how the subject quakes. I pardon that man’s life. What was thy cause? Adultery? Thou shalt not die: die for adultery! No: The wren goes to’t, and the small gilded fly Does lecher in my sight. Let copulation thrive; For Gloucester’s bastard son was kinder to his father Than my daughters got ’tween the lawful sheets. for I lack soldiers.

Behold yond simp’ring dame, Whose face between her forks presages snow; That minces virtue, and does shake the head To hear of pleasure’s name. The fitchew nor the soiled horse goes to’t with a more riotous appetite. Down from the waist they are centaurs, though women all above. But to the girdle do the gods inherit, beneath is all the fiend’s; there’s hell, there’s darkness, there is the sulphurous pit; burning, scalding, stench, consumption. pah, pah! Give me an ounce of civet, good apothecary, to sweeten my imagination. **GLOUCESTER:** O ruin’d piece of nature, this great world Shall so wear out to naught. **LEAR:** I remember thine eyes well enough. Dost thou squiny at me? No, do thy worst, blind Cupid; I’ll not love. **LEAR:** O, ho, are you there with me? No eyes in your head, nor no money in your purse? **LEAR:** What, art mad? A man may see how the world goes with no eyes. Look with thine ears.

See how yon justice rails upon yon simple thief. Hark, in thine ear: change places; and, handy-dandy, which is the justice, which is the thief? **LEAR:** And the creature run from the cur? There thou mightst behold the great image of authority: a dog’s obeyed in office. Thou rascal beadle, hold thy bloody hand! Why dost thou lash that whore? Strip thine own back; Thou hotly lusts to use her in that kind For which thou whipp’st her. The usurer hangs the cozener. Through tatter’d clothes great vices do appear; Robes and furr’d gowns hide all. Plate sin with gold, And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks; Arm it in rags, a pygmy’s straw does pierce it. None does offend, none, I say none; I’ll able ’em; Take that of me, my friend, who have the power To seal the accuser’s lips. Get thee glass eyes, And like a scurvy politician, seem To see the things thou dost not. **EDGAR:** O, matter and impertinency mix’d!

**LEAR:** If thou wilt weep my fortunes, take my eyes. I know thee well enough, thy name is Gloucester. Thou must be patient; we came crying hither: Thou know’st the first time that we smell the air We wawl and cry. **LEAR:** When we are born, we cry that we are come To this great stage of fools. This a good block: It were a delicate stratagem to shoe A troop of horse with felt. I’ll put’t in proof And when I have stol’n upon these son-in-laws, Then kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill! **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 fool of fortune. Use me well; You shall have ransom. **LEAR:** No seconds? All myself? **LEAR:** I will die bravely, like a smug bridegroom. What! I will be jovial. **LEAR:** Then there’s life in’t. Come, and you get it, You shall get it by running. [_Exit running.

_] **GENTLEMAN:** A sight most pitiful in the meanest wretch, Past speaking of in a king! **GENTLEMAN:** Sir, speed you. **GENTLEMAN:** Most sure and vulgar. **EDGAR:** A most poor man, made tame to fortune’s blows; Who, by the art of known and feeling sorrows, Am pregnant to good pity. **GLOUCESTER:** Hearty thanks: The bounty and the benison of heaven To boot, and boot. **OSWALD:** A proclaim’d prize! Most happy! That eyeless head of thine was first fram’d flesh To raise my fortunes. Thou old unhappy traitor, Briefly thyself remember. _] **OSWALD:** Wherefore, bold peasant, Dar’st thou support a publish’d traitor? Hence; Lest that th’infection of his fortune take Like hold on thee. **EDGAR:** Good gentleman, go your gait, and let poor volke pass. An chud ha’ bin zwaggered out of my life, ’twould not ha’ bin zo long as ’tis by a vortnight. **EDGAR:** Chill pick your teeth, zir. Come! _] **OSWALD:** Slave, thou hast slain me.

Villain, take my purse. If ever thou wilt thrive, bury my body; And give the letters which thou find’st about me To Edmund, Earl of Gloucester. Seek him out Upon the British party. _] **EDGAR:** I know thee well. **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 deathsman. Let us see: Leave, gentle wax; and, manners, blame us not. _] ‘Let our reciprocal vows be remembered. You have many opportunities to cut him off: if your will want not, time and place will be fruitfully offered. There is nothing done if he return the conqueror: then am I the prisoner, and his bed my gaol; from the loathed warmth whereof deliver me, and supply the place for your labour. ‘Your (wife, so I would say) affectionate servant, ‘Goneril.’ O indistinguish’d space of woman’s will! A plot upon her virtuous husband’s life, And the exchange my brother!

_] **GLOUCESTER:** The King is mad: how stiff is my vile sense, That I stand up, and have ingenious feeling Of my huge sorrows! _] **EDGAR:** Give me your hand. Far off methinks I hear the beaten drum. _]

Lear on a bed, asleep, soft music playing; Physician, Gentleman and others attending. **CORDELIA:** O thou good Kent, how shall I live and work To match thy goodness? **KENT:** To be acknowledg’d, madam, is o’erpaid. **KENT:** Pardon, dear madam; Yet to be known shortens my made intent. **CORDELIA:** O you kind gods, Cure this great breach in his abused nature! **CORDELIA:** Be govern’d by your knowledge, and proceed I’ the sway of your own will. **PHYSICIAN:** Ay, madam. In the heaviness of sleep We put fresh garments on him. **PHYSICIAN:** Please you draw near. **CORDELIA:** O my dear father! **CORDELIA:** Had you not been their father, these white flakes Did challenge pity of them. Was this a face To be oppos’d against the warring winds? To stand against the deep dread-bolted thunder? to watch, poor perdu! With this thin helm?

Mine enemy’s dog, Though he had bit me, should have stood that night Against my fire; and wast thou fain, poor father, To hovel thee with swine and rogues forlorn In short and musty straw? ’Tis wonder that thy life and wits at once Had not concluded all. **CORDELIA:** How does my royal lord? **LEAR:** You do me wrong to take me out o’ the grave. **LEAR:** Where have I been? Where am I? Fair daylight? I am mightily abus’d. I should e’en die with pity, To see another thus. I know not what to say. I will not swear these are my hands: let’s see; I feel this pin prick. **CORDELIA:** O, look upon me, sir, And hold your hands in benediction o’er me. **LEAR:** Pray, do not mock me: I am a very foolish fond old man, Fourscore and upward, not an hour more nor less; And to deal plainly, I fear I am not in my perfect mind.

Methinks I should know you, and know this man; Yet I am doubtful: for I am mainly ignorant What place this is; and all the skill I have Remembers not these garments; nor I know not Where I did lodge last night. **CORDELIA:** And so I am. **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. **PHYSICIAN:** Be comforted, good madam, the great rage, You see, is kill’d in him: and yet it is danger To make him even o’er the time he has lost. **GENTLEMAN:** The arbitrement is like to be bloody. _]

**EDMUND:** Fear not, She and the Duke her husband! **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 state Forc’d to cry out. Where I could not be honest, I never yet was valiant. ] O, ho, I know the riddle. **ALBANY:** I’ll overtake you. **EDGAR:** Before you fight the battle, ope this letter. If you have victory, let the trumpet sound For him that brought it: wretched though I seem, I can produce a champion that will prove What is avouched there. If you miscarry, Your business of the world hath so an end, And machination ceases. **EDGAR:** I was forbid it. **ALBANY:** Why, fare thee well. **EDMUND:** The enemy’s in view; draw up your powers. _] **EDMUND:** To both these sisters have I sworn my love; Each jealous of the other, as the stung Are of the adder. Which of them shall I take? Both? One? Or neither?

Neither can be enjoy’d, If both remain alive. To take the widow Exasperates, makes mad her sister Goneril; And hardly shall I carry out my side, Her husband being alive. Now, then, we’ll use His countenance for the battle; which being done, Let her who would be rid of him devise His speedy taking off. _]

Alarum within. Enter with drum and colours, Lear, Cordelia and their Forces, and exeunt. Enter Edgar and Gloucester. **EDGAR:** Here, father, take 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. **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’en: 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; Ripeness is all. Come on. **GLOUCESTER:** And that’s true too. [_Exeunt._]

**CORDELIA:** We are not the first Who with best meaning have incurr’d the worst. For thee, oppressed King, I am cast down; Myself could else out-frown false fortune’s frown. **LEAR:** No, no, no, no. Come, let’s away to prison: We two alone will sing like birds i’ the 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 rogues 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 things, As if we were God’s spies. **LEAR:** Upon such sacrifices, my Cordelia, The gods themselves throw incense. Have I caught thee? He that parts us shall bring a brand from heaven, And fire us hence like foxes. Wipe thine eyes; The good years shall devour them, flesh and fell, Ere they shall make us weep! _] **EDMUND:** Come hither, captain, hark.

Take thou this note [_giving a paper_]; go follow them to prison. 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. **EDMUND:** About it; and write happy when thou hast done. _] Flourish. **EDMUND:** Sir, I thought it fit To send the old and miserable King To some retention and appointed guard; Whose age has charms in it, whose title more, To pluck the common bosom on his side, And turn our impress’d lances in our eyes Which do command them. With him I sent the queen; My reason all the same; and they are ready Tomorrow, or at further space, to appear Where you shall hold your session. At this time We sweat and bleed: the friend hath lost his friend; And the best quarrels in the heat are curs’d By those that feel their sharpness. **REGAN:** That’s as we list to grace him.

Methinks our pleasure might have been demanded Ere you had spoke so far. **GONERIL:** Holla, holla! **REGAN:** Lady, I am not well; else I should answer From a full-flowing stomach. _] For your claim, fair sister, I bar it in the interest of my wife; ’Tis she is sub-contracted to this lord, And I her husband contradict your bans. **ALBANY:** Thou art arm’d, Gloucester. _] What in the world he is That names me traitor, villain-like he lies. Call by thy trumpet: he that dares approach, On him, on you, who not? **ALBANY:** A herald, ho! Enter a Herald. **ALBANY:** She is not well. _] Come hither, herald. _] ‘If any man of quality or degree within the lists 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. _] **HERALD:** Again! Third trumpet. Trumpet answers within. **HERALD:** What are you?

**EDGAR:** Know my name is lost; By treason’s tooth bare-gnawn and canker-bit. **EDGAR:** Draw thy sword, That if my speech offend a noble heart, Thy arm may do thee justice: here is mine. Behold, it is the privilege of mine honours, My oath, and my profession: I protest, Maugre thy strength, youth, place, and eminence, Despite thy victor sword and fire-new fortune, Thy valour and thy heart, thou art a traitor; False to thy gods, thy brother, and thy father; Conspirant ’gainst this high illustrious prince; And, from the extremest upward of thy head To the descent and dust beneath thy foot, A most toad-spotted traitor. **EDMUND:** In wisdom I should ask thy name; But since thy outside looks so fair and warlike, And that thy tongue some say of breeding breathes, What safe and nicely I might well delay By rule of knighthood, I disdain and spurn.

Back do I toss those treasons to thy head, With the hell-hated lie o’erwhelm thy heart; Which for they yet glance by and scarcely bruise, This sword of mine shall give them instant way, Where they shall rest for ever. [_Alarums. They fight. **ALBANY:** Shut your mouth, dame, Or with this paper shall I stop it. Hold, sir; Thou worse than any name, read thine own evil. _] **ALBANY:** Most monstrous! O! ’Tis past, and so am I. But what art thou That hast this fortune on me? **EDGAR:** Let’s exchange charity. I am no less in blood than thou art, Edmund; If more, the more thou hast wrong’d me. My name is Edgar and thy father’s son. **ALBANY:** Methought thy very gait did prophesy A royal nobleness. I must embrace thee. **ALBANY:** Where have you hid yourself? **EDGAR:** By nursing them, my lord. List a brief tale; And when ’tis told, O that my heart would burst!

The bloody proclamation to escape That follow’d me so near,—O, our lives’ sweetness! —reveal’d myself unto him Until some half hour past, when I was arm’d; Not sure, though hoping of this good success, I ask’d his blessing, and from first to last Told him my pilgrimage. **EDGAR:** This would have seem’d a period To such as love not sorrow; but another, To amplify too much, would make much more, And top extremity. Whilst I was big in clamour, came there a man Who, having seen me in my worst estate, Shunn’d my abhorr’d society; but then finding Who ’twas that so endur’d, with his strong arms He fastened on my neck, and bellow’d out As he’d burst heaven; threw him on my father; Told the most piteous tale of Lear and him That ever ear receiv’d, which in recounting His grief grew puissant, and the strings of life Began to crack.

**EDGAR:** Kent, sir, the banish’d Kent; who in disguise Follow’d his enemy king and did him service Improper for a slave. **GENTLEMAN:** Help, help! **ALBANY:** Who dead? **EDGAR:** Here comes Kent. **ALBANY:** Produce their bodies, be they alive or dead. This judgement of the heavens that makes us tremble Touches us not with pity. O, is this he? **ALBANY:** Great thing of us forgot! and where’s Cordelia? The bodies of Goneril and Regan are brought in. **EDMUND:** Yet Edmund was belov’d. **ALBANY:** Even so. **EDMUND:** I pant for life. Some good I mean to do, Despite of mine own nature. **EDGAR:** To who, my lord? Who has the office? **ALBANY:** The gods defend her! **LEAR:** Howl, howl, howl, howl! O, you are men of stone. Had I your tongues and eyes, I’ld 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. **LEAR:** This feather stirs; she lives!

**LEAR:** A plague upon you, murderers, traitors all! I might have sav’d her; now she’s gone for ever! stay a little. Ha! What is’t thou say’st? Her voice was ever soft, Gentle, and low, an excellent thing in woman. **LEAR:** Did I not, fellow? I have seen the day, with my good biting falchion I would have made them skip. I am old now, And these same crosses spoil me. Who are you? **LEAR:** This is a dull sight. **KENT:** The same, Your servant Kent. **LEAR:** He’s a good fellow, I can tell you that; He’ll strike, and quickly too:. **KENT:** Nor no man else. All’s cheerless, dark and deadly. **EDGAR:** Very bootless. **ALBANY:** That’s but a trifle here. You lords and noble friends, know our intent. What comfort to this great decay may come Shall be applied.

For us, we will resign, During the life of this old majesty, To him our absolute power; [_to Edgar and Kent_] you to your rights; With boot and such addition as your honours Have more than merited. All friends shall taste The wages of their virtue and all foes The cup of their deservings. **LEAR:** And my poor fool is hang’d! 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, sir. Do you see this? _] **EDGAR:** He faints! **KENT:** Vex not his ghost: O, let him pass! **ALBANY:** Bear them from hence. **EDGAR:** The weight of this sad time we must obey; Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say. _]