King Lear (1917) Yale/Text/Act II
ACT SECOND
Scene One
[Earl of Gloucester's Castle]
Enter Bastard [Edmund] and Curan, severally.
Edm. Save thee, Curan.
Cur. And you, sir. I have been with your
father, and given him notice that the Duke of
Cornwall and Regan his duchess will be here
with him to-night. 5
Edm. How comes that?
Cur. Nay, I know not. You have heard of
the news abroad? I mean the whispered ones,
for they are yet but ear-kissing arguments? 9
Edm. Not I: pray you, what are they?
Cur. Have you heard of no likely wars toward,
'twixt the Dukes of Cornwall and Albany? 12
Edm. Not a word.
Cur. You may do then, in time. Fare you
well, sir. Exit.
Edm. The duke be here to-night! The better! best! 16
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! 21
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. 24
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? 28
Advise yourself.
Edg. I am sure on 't, not a word.
Edm. 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. 32
Yield;—come before my father. Light, ho! here!
Fly, brother. Torches ! torches! So, farewell.
Exit Edgar.
Some blood drawn on me would beget opinion
[Wounds his arm.]
Of my more fierce endeavour: I have seen drunkards
Do more than this in sport. Father! father!
Stop, stop. No help?
Enter Gloucester, and Servants with Torches.
Glo. Now, Edmund, where's the villain?
Edm. Here stood he in the dark, his sharp sword out, 40
Mumbling of wicked charms, conjuring the moon
To stand auspicious mistress.
Glo. But where is he?
Edm. Look, sir, I bleed.
Glo. Where is the villain, Edmund?
Edm. Fled this way, sir. When by no means he could— 44
Glo. Pursue him, ho! Go after. [Exeunt some Servants.] 'By no means' what?
Edm. Persuade me to the murder of your lordship;
But that I told him, the revenging gods
'Gainst parricides did all their thunders bend;
Spoke with how manifold and strong a bond 49
The child was bound to the father; sir, in fine,
Seeing how loathly opposite I stood
To his unnatural purpose, in fell motion, 52
With his prepared sword he charges home
My unprovided body, lanc'd mine arm:
But when he saw my best alarum'd spirits
Bold in the quarrel's right, rous'd to the encounter, 56
Or whether gasted by the noise I made,
Full suddenly he fled.
Glo. Let him fly far:
Not in this land shall he remain uncaught;
And found—dispatch. The noble duke my master, 60
My worthy arch and patron, comes to-night:
By his authority I will proclaim it,
That he which finds him shall deserve our thanks,
Bringing the murderous coward to the stake; 64
He that conceals him, death.
Edm. When I dissuaded him from his intent,
And found him pight to do it, with curst speech
I threaten'd to discover him: he replied, 68
'Thou unpossessing bastard! 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? No: what I should deny,— 72
As this I would; ay, though thou didst produce
My very character,—I'd turn it all
To thy suggestion, plot, and damned practice:
And thou must make a dullard of the world, 76
If they not thought the profits of my death
Were very pregnant and potential spurs
To make thee seek it.'
Glo. Strong and fasten'd villain!
Would he deny his letter? I never got him. 80
Tucket within.
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 84
May have due note of him; and of my land,
Loyal and natural boy, I'll work the means
To make thee capable.
Enter Cornwall, Regan, and Attendants.
Corn. How now, my noble friend! since I came hither,— 88
Which I can call but now,—I have heard strange news.
Reg. If it be true, all vengeance comes too short
Which can pursue the offender. How dost, my lord?
Glo. O ! madam, my old heart is crack' d, it's crack'd. 92
Reg. What! did my father's godson seek your life?
He whom my father nam'd? your Edgar?
Glo. O! lady, lady, shame would have it hid.
Reg. Was he not companion with the riotous knights 96
That tend upon my father?
Glo. I know not, madam; 'tis too bad, too bad.
Edm. Yes, madam, he was of that consort.
Reg. No marvel then though he were ill affected; 100
'Tis they have put him on the old man's death,
To have the expense and waste of his revenues.
I have this present evening from my sister
Been well-inform'd of them, and with such cautions 104
That if they come to sojourn at my house,
I'll not be there.
Corn. Nor I, assure thee, Regan.
Edmund, I hear that you have shown your father
A child-like office.
Edm. 'Twas my duty, sir. 108
Glo. He did bewray his practice; and receiv'd
This hurt you see, striving to apprehend him.
Corn. Is he pursu'd?
Glo. Ay, my good lord.
Corn. If he be taken he shall never more 112
Be fear'd of doing harm; make your own purpose,
How in my strength you please. For you, Edmund,
Whose virtue and obedience doth this instant
So much commend itself, you shall be ours: 116
Natures of such deep trust we shall much need;
You we first seize on.
Edm. I shall serve you, sir,
Truly, however else.
Glo. For him I thank your Grace.
Corn. You know not why we came to visit you,— 120
Reg. Thus out of season, threading dark-ey'd night:
Occasions, noble Gloucester, of some prize,
Wherein we must have use of your advice.
Our father he hath writ, so hath our sister, 124
Of differences, which I best thought it fit
To answer from our home; the several messengers
From hence attend dispatch. Our good old friend,
Lay comforts to your bosom, and bestow 128
Your needful counsel to our businesses,
Which craves the instant use.
Glo. I serve you, madam.
Your Graces are right welcome. Exeunt. Flourish.
Scene Two
[Before Gloucester's Castle]
Enter Kent and Steward [Oswald] severally.
Osw. Good dawning to thee, friend: art of
this house?
Kent. Ay.
Osw. Where may we set our horses? 4
Kent. I' the mire.
Osw. Prithee, if thou lovest me, tell me.
Kent. I love thee not.
Osw. Why, then I care not for thee. 8
Kent. If I had thee in Lipsbury pinfold, I
would make thee care for me.
Osw. Why dost thou use me thus? I know
thee not. 12
Kent. Fellow, I know thee.
Osw. What dost thou know me for?
Kent. A knave, a rascal, an eater of broken
meats; a base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three-
suited, hundred-pound, filthy, worsted-stocking
knave; a lily-liver'd, action-taking knave; a
whoreson, glass-gazing, superserviceable, finical
rogue; one-trunk-inheriting slave; one that
wouldst be a bawd, in way of good service,
and art nothing but the composition of a
knave, beggar, coward, pandar, and the son
and heir of a mongrel bitch: one whom I will
beat into clamorous whining if thou deniest
the least syllable of thy addition. 26
Osw. Why, what a monstrous fellow art
thou, thus to rail on one that is neither known
of thee nor knows thee! 29
Kent. What a brazen-faced varlet art thou,
to deny thou knowest me! Is it two days since
I tripped up thy heels and beat thee before
the king? Draw, you rogue; for, though it be
night, yet the moon shines: I'll make a sop o'
the moonshine of you. [Drawing his sword.]
Draw, you whoreson, cullionly barber-monger,
draw. 37
Osw. Away! I have nothing to do with thee.
Kent. Draw, you rascal; you come with let-
ters against the king, and take vanity the pup-
pet's part against the royalty of her father.
Draw, you rogue, or I'll so carbonado your
shanks: draw, you rascal; come your ways.
Osw. Help, ho! murder! help! 44
Kent. Strike, you slave; stand, rogue, stand;
you neat slave, strike. [Beating him.]
Osw. Help, oh! murder! murder!
Enter Bastard [Edmund], Cornwall, Regan, Gloucester, [and] Servants.
Edm. How now! What's the matter? 48
Kent. With you, goodman boy, if you please: come,
I'll flesh ye; come on, young master.
Glo. Weapons! arms! What's the matter here?
Corn. Keep peace, upon your lives: 52
He dies that strikes again. What is the matter?
Reg. The messengers from our sister and the king.
Corn. What is your difference? speak.
Osw. I am scarce in breath, my lord. 56
Kent. No marvel, you have so bestirred your
valour. You cowardly rascal, nature disclaims
in thee: a tailor made thee.
Corn. Thou art a strange fellow; a tailor
make a man? 61
Kent. Ay, a tailor, sir: a stone-cutter or a
painter could not have made him so ill, though
they had been but two hours o' the trade. 64
Corn. Speak yet, how grew your quarrel?
Osw. This ancient ruffian, sir, whose life I
have spar'd at suit of his grey beard,— 67
Kent. Thou whoreson zed! thou unnecessary
letter! My lord, if you will give me leave, I will
tread this unbolted villain into mortar, and
daub the wall of a jakes with him. Spare my
grey beard, you wagtail? 72
Corn. Peace, sirrah!
You beastly knave, know you no reverence?
Kent. Yes, sir; but anger hath a privilege.
Corn. Why art thou angry? 76
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 intrinse t' unloose; smooth every passion 80
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, 84
Knowing nought, like dogs, but following.
A plague upon your epileptic visage!
Smile you my speeches, as I were a fool?
Goose, if I had you upon Sarum plain, 88
I'd drive ye cackling home to Camelot.
Corn. What! art thou mad, old fellow?
Glo. How fell you out? say that.
Kent. No contraries hold more antipathy 92
Than I and such a knave.
Corn. Why dost thou call him knave? What is his fault?
Kent. His countenance likes me not.
Corn. No more, perchance, does mine, nor
his, nor hers. 97
Kent. Sir, 'tis my occupation to be plain:
I have seen better faces in my time
Than stands on any shoulder that I see 100
Before me at this instant.
Corn. 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, 104
An honest mind and plain, he must speak truth:
An they will take it, so; if not, he's plain.
These kind of knaves I know, which in this plainness
Harbour more craft and more corrupter ends
Than twenty silly-ducking observants, 109
That stretch their duties nicely.
Kent. Sir, in good sooth, in sincere verity,
Under the allowance of your grand aspect, 112
Whose influence, like the wreath of radiant fire
On flickering Phœbus' front,—
Corn. What mean'st by this?
Kent. To go out of my dialect, which you
discommend so much. I know, sir, I am no
flatterer: he that beguiled you in a plain accent
was a plain knave; which for my part I will not
be, though I should win your displeasure to en-
treat me to 't. 120
Corn. What was the offence you gave him?
Osw. I never gave him any:
It pleas'd the king his master very late
To strike at me, upon his misconstruction; 124
When he, conjunct, and flattering his displeasure,
Tripp'd me behind; being down, insulted, rail'd,
And put upon him such a deal of man,
That worthied him, got praises of the king 128
For him attempting who was self-subdu'd;
And, in the fleshment of this dread exploit,
Drew on me here again.
Kent. None of these rogues and cowards
But Ajax is their fool.
Corn. Fetch forth the stocks! 132
You stubborn ancient knave, you reverend braggart,
We'll teach you.
Kent. Sir, I am too old to learn.
Call not your stocks for me; I serve the king,
On whose employment I was sent to you; 136
You shall do small respect, show too bold malice
Against the grace and person of my master,
Stocking his messenger.
Corn. Fetch forth the stocks! As I have life and honour, 140
There shall he sit till noon.
Reg. Till noon! Till night, my lord; and all night too.
Kent. Why, madam, if I were your father's dog,
You should not use me so.
Reg. Sir, being his knave, I will. 144
Corn. This is a fellow of the self-same colour
Our sister speaks of. Come, bring away the stocks.
Glo. Let me beseech your Grace not to do so.
[His fault is much, and the good king his master 148
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:] the king must take it ill, 152
That he, so slightly valu'd in his messenger,
Should have him thus restrain'd.
Corn. I'll answer that.
Reg. My sister may receive it much more worse
To have her gentleman abus'd, assaulted, 156
For following her affairs. Put in his legs.
[Kent is put in the stocks.]
Come, my good lord, away.
Glo. I am sorry for thee, friend; 'tis the duke's pleasure,
Whose disposition, all the world well knows, 160
Will not be rubb'd nor stopp'd: I'll entreat for thee.
Kent. Pray, do not, sir. I have watch'd and travell'd hard;
Some time I shall sleep out, the rest I'll whistle.
A good man's fortune may grow out at heels: 164
Give you good morrow!
Glo. The duke's to blame in this; 'twill be ill taken.
Kent. Good king, that must approve the common saw,
Thou out of heaven's benediction com'st 168
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, 173
Who hath most fortunately been inform'd
Of my obscured course; and shall find time
From this enormous state, seeking to give 176
Losses their remedies. All weary and o'er-watch'd,
Take vantage, heavy eyes, not to behold
This shameful lodging.
Fortune, good night, smile once more; turn thy wheel!
Scene Three
[A Heath]
Enter Edgar.
Edg. 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, 4
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, 8
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. 12
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 Turlygood! poor Tom! 20
That's something yet: Edgar I nothing am. Exit.
Scene Four
[Before Gloucester's Castle. Kent in the Stocks]
Enter Lear, Fool, and Gentleman.
Lear. 'Tis strange that they should so depart from home,
And not send back my messenger.
Gent. As I learn'd,
The night before there was no purpose in them
Of this remove.
Kent. Hail to thee, noble master! 4
Lear. Ha!
Mak'st thou this shame thy pastime?
Kent. No, my lord.
Fool. Ha, ha! he wears cruel garters. Horses
are tied by the head, dogs and bears by the neck,
monkeys by the loins, and men by the legs:
when a man is over-lusty at legs, then he wears
wooden nether-stocks.
Lear. What's he that hath so much thy place mistook 12
To set thee here?
Kent. It is both he and she,
Your son and daughter.
Lear. No.
Kent. Yes. 16
Lear. No, I say.
Kent. I say, yea.
Lear. No, no; they would not.
Kent. Yes, they have. 20
Lear. By Jupiter, I swear, no.
Kent. By Juno, I swear, ay.
Lear. They durst not do 't;
They could not, would not do 't; 'tis worse than murder,
To do upon respect such violent outrage. 24
Resolve me, with all modest haste, which way
Thou mightst deserve, or they impose, this usage,
Coming from us.
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 29
My duty kneeling, there came a reeking post,
Stew'd in his haste, half breathless, panting forth
From Goneril his mistress salutations; 32
Deliver'd letters, spite of intermission,
Which presently they read: on whose contents
They summon'd up their meiny, straight took horse;
Commanded me to follow, and attend 36
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 40
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.
Your son and daughter found this trespass worth 44
The shame which here it suffers.
Fool. Winter's not gone yet, if the wild geese
fly that way.
Fathers that wear rags 48
Do make their children blind,
But fathers that bear bags
Shall see their children kind.
Fortune, that arrant whore, 52
Ne'er turns the key to the poor.
But for all this thou shalt have as many dolours
for thy daughters as thou canst tell in a year.
Lear. O! how this mother swells up toward my heart; 56
Hysterica passio! down, thou climbing sorrow!
Thy element's below. Where is this daughter?
Kent. With the earl, sir: here within.
Lear. Follow me not; stay here. Exit.
Gent. Made you no more offence than what
you speak of?
Kent. None.
How chance the king comes with so small a number? 64
Fool. An thou hadst been set i' the stocks for
that question, thou hadst well deserved it.
Kent. Why, fool? 67
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 up the hill, 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, 80
Will pack when it begins to rain,
And leave thee in the storm.
But I will tarry; the fool will stay,
And let the wise man fly: 84
The knave turns fool that runs away;
The fool no knave, perdy.
Kent. Where learn'd you this, fool?
Fool. Not i' the stocks, fool. 88
Enter Lear, and Gloucester.
Lear. Deny to speak with me! They are sick! they are weary,
They have travell'd hard to-night! Mere fetches,
The images of revolt and flying off.
Fetch me a better answer.
Glo. My dear lord, 92
You know the fiery quality of the duke;
How unremovable and fix'd he is
In his own course.
Lear. Vengeance! plague! death! confusion!
Fiery! what quality? Why, Gloucester, Gloucester, 97
I'd speak with the Duke of Cornwall and his wife.
Glo. Well, my good lord, I have inform'd them so.
Lear. Inform'd them! Dost thou understand me, man? 100
Glo. Ay, my good lord.
Lear. The king would speak with Cornwall; the dear father
Would with his daughter speak, commands her service: 103
Are they inform'd of this? My breath and blood!
Fiery! the fiery duke! Tell the hot duke that—
No, but not yet; may be he is not well:
Infirmity doth still neglect all office
Whereto our health is bound; we are not ourselves 108
When nature, being oppress'd, commands the mind
To suffer with the body. I'll forbear;
And am fall'n out with my more headier will,
To take the indispos'd and sickly fit 112
For the sound man. Death on my state! [Looking on Kent.] 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. 116
Go, tell the duke and 's wife I'd speak with them,
Now, presently: bid them come forth and hear me,
Or at their chamber-door I'll beat the drum
Till it cry sleep to death. 120
Glo. I would have all well betwixt you. Exit.
Lear. O, me! my heart, my rising heart! but, down!
Fool. Cry to it, nuncle, as the cockney did to
the eels when she put 'em i' the paste alive; she
knapped 'em o' the coxcombs with a stick, and
cried, 'Down, wantons, down!' 'Twas her
brother that, in pure kindness to his horse,
buttered his hay. 128
Enter Cornwall, Regan, Gloucester, [and] Servants.
Lear. Good morrow to you both.
Corn. Hail to your Grace.
Reg. I am glad to see your highness.
Lear. Regan, I think you are; I know what reason
I have to think so: if thou shouldst not be glad,
I would divorce me from thy mother's tomb, 133
Sepulchring an adult'ress.—[To Kent.] O! are you free?
Some other time for that. Beloved Regan,
Thy sister's naught: O Regan! she hath tied 136
Sharp-tooth'd unkindness, like a vulture, here:
[Points to his heart.]
I can scarce speak to thee; thou'lt not believe
With how deprav'd a quality—O Regan!
Reg. I pray you, sir, take patience. I have hope 140
You less know how to value her desert
Than she to scant her duty.
Lear. Say, how is that?
Reg. I cannot think my sister in the least
Would fail her obligation: if, sir, perchance 144
She have restrain'd the riots of your followers,
'Tis on such ground, and to such wholesome end,
As clears her from all blame.
Lear. My curses on her!
Reg. O, sir! you are old; 148
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. Therefore I pray you
That to our sister you do make return; 153
Say, you have wrong'd her, sir.
Lear. Ask her forgiveness?
Do you but mark how this becomes the house:
'Dear daughter, I confess that I am old; 156
Age is unnecessary: on my knees I beg
That you'll vouchsafe me raiment, bed, and food.'
Reg. Good sir, no more; these are unsightly tricks:
Return you to my sister.
Lear. Never, Regan. 160
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 164
On her ingrateful top! Strike her young bones,
You taking airs, with lameness!
Corn. Fie, sir, fie!
Lear. You nimble lightnings, dart your blinding flames
Into her scornful eyes! Infect her beauty, 168
You fen-suck'd fogs, drawn by the powerful sun,
To fall and blast her pride!
Reg. O the blest gods! So will you wish on me,
When the rash mood is on. 172
Lear. No, Regan, thou shalt never have my curse:
Thy tender-hefted nature shall not give
Thee o'er to harshness: her eyes are fierce, but thine
Do comfort and not burn. 'Tis not in thee 176
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: thou better know'st 180
The offices of nature, bond of childhood,
Effects of courtesy, dues of gratitude;
Thy half o' the kingdom hast thou not forgot,
Wherein I thee endow'd.
Reg Good sir, to the purpose. 184
Lear. Who put my man i' the stocks?
Corn. What trumpet's that?
Reg. I know 't my sister's; this approves her letter,
That she would soon be here. Is your lady come?
Enter Steward [Oswald.]
Lear. This is a slave, whose easy-borrow'd pride 188
Dwells in the fickle grace of her he follows.
Out, varlet, from my sight!
Corn. What means your Grace?
Lear. Who stock'd my servant? Regan, I have good hope
Thou didst not know on 't. Who comes here? O heavens, 192
Enter Goneril.
If you do love old men, if your sweet sway
Allow obedience, if yourselves are old,
Make it your cause; send down and take my part!
[To Goneril.] Art not asham'd to look upon this beard? 196
O Regan, wilt thou take her by the hand?
Gon. Why not by the hand, sir? How have I offended?
All's not offence that indiscretion finds
And dotage terms so.
Lear. O sides! you are too tough;
Will you yet hold? How came my man i' the stocks? 201
Corn. I set him there, sir: but his own disorders
Deserv'd much less advancement.
Lear. You! did you?
Reg. I pray you, father, being weak, seem so.
If, till the expiration of your month, 205
You will return and sojourn with my sister,
Dismissing half your train, come then to me:
I am now from home, and out of that provision
Which shall be needful for your entertainment.
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; 212
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!
Persuade me rather to be slave and sumpter
To this detested groom.
Gon. At your choice, sir. 220
Lear. I prithee, daughter, do not make me mad:
I will not trouble thee, my child; farewell.
Well no more meet, no more see one another;
But yet thou art my flesh, my blood, my daughter; 224
Or rather a disease that's in my flesh,
Which I must needs call mine: thou art a boil,
A plague-sore, an embossed carbuncle,
In my corrupted blood. But I'll not chide thee; 228
Let shame come when it will, I do not call it:
I do not bid the thunder-bearer shoot,
Nor tell tales of thee to high-judging Jove.
Mend when thou canst; be better at thy leisure: 232
I can be patient; I can stay with Regan,
I and my hundred knights.
Reg. Not altogether so:
I look'd not for you yet, nor am provided
For your fit welcome. Give ear, sir, to my sister; 236
For those that mingle reason with your passion
Must be content to think you old, and so—
But she knows what she does.
Lear. Is this well spoken?
Reg. I dare avouch it, sir: what! fifty followers? 240
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? How, in one house,
Should many people, under two commands, 244
Hold amity? 'Tis hard; almost impossible.
Gon. Why might not you, my lord, receive attendance
From those that she calls servants, or from mine?
Reg. Why not, my lord? If then they chanc'd to slack you 248
We could control them. If you will come to me,—
For now I spy a danger,—I entreat you
To bring but five-and-twenty; to no more
Will I give place or notice. 252
Lear. I gave you all—
Reg. And in good time you gave it.
Lear. Made you my guardians, my depositaries,
But kept a reservation to be follow'd
With such a number. What! must I come to you 256
With five-and-twenty? Regan, said you so?
Reg. And speak 't again, my lord; no more with me.
Lear. Those wicked creatures yet do look well-favour'd,
When others are more wicked; not being the worst 260
Stands in some rank of praise. [To Goneril.] I'll go with thee:
Thy fifty yet doth double five-and-twenty,
And thou art twice her love.
Gon. Hear me, my lord.
What need you five-and-twenty, ten, or five, 264
To follow in a house, where twice so many
Have a command to tend you?
Reg. What need one?
Lear. O! reason not the need; our basest beggars
Are in the poorest thing superfluous: 268
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, 272
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! 276
If it be you that stir 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, 280
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 284
The terrors of the earth. You think I'll weep;
No, I'll not weep:
I have full cause of weeping, but this heart
Storm and Tempest.
Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws 288
Or ere I'll weep. O fool! I shall go mad.
Corn. Let us withdraw; 'twill be a storm.
Reg. This house is little: the old man and his people
Cannot be well bestow'd. 292
Gon. 'Tis his own blame; hath put himself from rest,
And must needs taste his folly.
Reg. For his particular, I'll receive him gladly,
But not one follower.
Gon. So am I purpos'd. 296
Where is my Lord of Gloucester?
Corn. Follow'd the old man forth. He is return'd.
Enter Gloucester.
Glo. The king is in high rage.
Corn. Whither is he going?
Glo. He calls to horse; but will I know not whither. 300
Corn. 'Tis best to give him way; he leads himself.
Gon. My lord, entreat him by no means to stay.
Glo. Alack! the night comes on, and the bleak winds
Do sorely ruffle; for many miles about 304
There's scarce a bush.
Reg. O! sir, to wilful men,
The injuries that they themselves procure
Must be their schoolmasters. Shut up your doors;
He is attended with a desperate train, 308
And what they may incense him to, being apt
To have his ear abus'd, wisdom bids fear.
Corn. Shut up your doors, my lord; 'tis a wild night:
My Regan counsels well: come out o' the storm.
Footnotes to Act II
Scene One
11 toward: in prospect
19 queasy question: hazardous trial
28 party: side
52 in fell motion: with fierce skill
57 gasted: scared
61 arch: chief
67 pight: fixed
curst: sharp
68 discover: expose
69 unpossessing: incapable of inheriting
72 faith'd: credited
75 suggestion: evil prompting
damned practice: damnable trickery
78 pregnant: inciting
80 S. d. Tucket: trumpet-notes, indicating march-signal
82 ports: gates
86 natural: real, my own
87 capable: legal heir
102 expense and waste: wasteful spending
108 childlike: filial
109 bewray: betray
113 of doing: lest he do
122 prize: advantage
126 from: away from
Scene Two
9 Lipsbury pinfold; cf. n.
15 broken meats: scraps
16 three-suited; cf. n.
18 action-taking: given to lawsuits
19 glass-gazing: fond of the mirror
superserviceable: officious
20 one-trunk-inheriting: owning only one trunk
34 sop o' the moonshine: make moonlight shine through him
36 cullionly: knavish
barber-monger: patron of the barber's shop
40 vanity the puppet's: Vanity, a personified character in the Morality plays
42 carbonado: slice
46 neat: mere, very
49 goodman: a plebeian form of address
58 disclaims: claims no share
68 zed; cf. n.
70 unbolted: unrefined
71 a jakes: a privy
79, 80 holy cords . . . too intrinse; cf. n.
83 Renege: deny
halcyon; cf. n.
84 gale: breeze
vary: variation
88 Sarum: Salisbury
89 Camelot; cf. n.
103 constrains the garb: forces the fashion
104 from: contrary to
109 observants: courtiers
111 sooth: truth
125 conjunct: in league
128 worthied: covered with dignity
130 fleshment: first taste
132 Ajax; cf. n.
146 away: hither; cf. n.
149 check: reprimand
167 approve: illustrate
169 sun; cf. n.
172 miracles; cf. n.
Scene Three
Scene Four
7 cruel: pun on crewel, i.e., worsted
11 nether-stocks: stocks was an old word for stockings
24 upon respect: deliberately
25 Resolve: inform
33 spite of intermission: despite my prior claim
35 meiny: people
54 dolours: pun on dollars
55 tell: count
56 mother: vertigo, a disease called the "hysteric passion"
81 pack: hurry off
86 perdy: by God, pardieu
89 Deny: refuse
90 fetches: tricks
91 flying off: desertion
107 office: duty
111 more headier: too headstrong
115 remotion: removal
120 cry sleep to death: murder sleep
123 cockney: cook
125 knapped: rapped (pronounce the k)
136 naught: worthless
139 quality: manner
150 confine: territory
155 house: household order
161 abated: deprived
166 taking: possessing, in the sense of malignant
170 fall: make fall
174 tender-hefted: softly framed
178 sizes: allowances
202 disorders: disorderly acts
212 wage: wage war
219 sumpter: drudge
227 embossed: swollen
252 notice: countenance
268 superfluous: possessed of more than they need
271 gorgeous; cf. n.
278 fool . . . much: make me not such a fool
288 flaws: pieces
295 For his particular: in regard to himself
304 ruffle: bluster