King Lear (1917) Yale/Text/Act IV
ACT FOURTH
Scene One
[The Heath]
Enter Edgar.
Edg. 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: 4
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. But who comes here? 9
Enter Gloucester, and an old man.
My father, poorly led? World, world, O world!
But that thy strange mutations make us hate thee,
Life would not yield to age.
Old Man. O my good lord! 12
I have been your tenant, and your father's tenant,
These fourscore years.
Glo. Away, get thee away; good friend, be gone;
Thy comforts can do me no good at all; 16
Thee they may hurt.
Old Man. You cannot see your way.
Glo. 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 20
Prove our commodities. Ah! dear son Edgar,
The food of thy abused father's wrath;
Might I but live to see thee in my touch,
I'd say I had eyes again.
Old Man. How now! Who's there? 24
Edg. [Aside.] O gods! Who is 't can say, 'I am at the worst?'
I am worse than e'er I was.
Old Man. 'Tis poor mad Tom.
Edg. [Aside.] And worse I may be yet; the worst is not,
So long as we can say, 'This is the worst.' 28
Old Man. Fellow, where goest?
Glo. Is it a beggar-man?
Old Man. Madman and beggar too.
Glo. He has some reason, else he could not beg.
I' the last night's storm I such a fellow saw, 32
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.
As flies to wanton boys, are we to the gods; 36
They kill us for their sport.
Edg. [Aside.] How should this be?
Bad is the trade that must play fool to sorrow,
Angering itself and others.—[To Gloucester.] Bless thee, master!
Glo. Is that the naked fellow?
Old Man. Ay, my lord.
Glo. Then, prithee, get thee gone. If, for my sake, 41
Thou wilt o'ertake us, hence a mile or twain,
I' the way toward Dover, do it for ancient love;
And bring some covering for this naked soul 44
Who I'll entreat to lead me.
Old Man. Alack, sir! he is mad.
Glo. 'Tis the times' plague, when madmen lead the blind.
Do as I bid thee, or rather do thy pleasure;
Above the rest, be gone. 48
Old Man. I'll bring him the best 'parel that I have,
Come on 't what will. Exit.
Glo. Sirrah, naked fellow,—
Edg. Poor Tom's a-cold. [Aside.] I cannot daub it further. 52
Glo. Come hither, fellow.
Edg. [Aside.] And yet I must. Bless thy sweet eyes, they bleed.
Glo. Know'st thou the way to Dover? 55
Edg. Both stile and gate, horse-way and foot-
path. 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; Hobbididance,
prince of dumbness; Mahu, of stealing; Modo,
of murder; and Flibbertigibbet, of mopping and
mowing; who since possesses chambermaids
and waiting-women. So, bless thee, master!] 64
Glo. Here, take this purse, thou whom the heavens' 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, 68
That slaves your ordinance, that will not see
Because he doth not feel, feel your power quickly;
So distribution should undo excess,
And each man have enough. Dost thou know Dover? 72
Edg. Ay, master.
Glo. There is a cliff, whose high and bending head
Looks fearfully in the confined deep;
Bring me but to the very brim of it, 76
And I'll repair the misery thou dost bear
With something rich about me; from that place
I shall no leading need.
Edg. Give me thy arm:
Poor Tom shall lead thee. Exeunt.
Scene Two
[Before the Duke of Albany's Palace]
Enter Goneril, Bastard [Edmund], and Steward [Oswald.]
Gon. Welcome, my lord; I marvel our mild husband
Not met us on the way. Now, where's your master?
Osw. Madam, within; but never man so chang'd.
I told him of the army that was landed; 4
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, 8
And told me I had turn'd the wrong side out:
What most he should dislike seems pleasant to him;
What like, offensive.
Gon. [To Edmund.] Then, shall you go no further.
It is the cowish terror of his spirit 12
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: 16
I must change arms at home, and give the distaff
Into my husband's hands. This trusty servant
Shall pass between us; ere long you are like to hear,
If you dare venture in your own behalf, 20
A mistress's command. Wear this; spare speech;
[Giving a favour.]
Decline your head: this kiss, if it durst speak,
Would stretch thy spirits up into the air.
Conceive, and fare thee well. 24
Edm. Yours in the ranks of death. Exit.
Gon. My most dear Gloucester!
O! the difference of man and man!
To thee a woman's services are due:
My fool usurps my bed.
Osw. Madam, here comes my lord. [Exit.]
Enter Albany.
Gon. I have been worth the whistle.
Alb. O Goneril! 29
You are not worth the dust which the rude wind
Blows in your face. [I fear your disposition:
That nature, which contemns its origin, 32
Cannot be border'd certain in itself;
She that herself will sliver and disbranch
From her material sap, perforce must wither
And come to deadly use. 36
Gon. No more; the text is foolish.
Alb. 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, 41
Whose reverence the head-lugg'd bear would lick,
Most barbarous, most degenerate! have you madded.
Could my good brother suffer you to do it? 44
A man, a prince, by him so benefited!
If that the heavens do not their visible spirits
Send quickly down to tame these vile offences,
It will come, 48
Humanity must perforce prey on itself,
Like monsters of the deep.]
Gon. Milk-liver'd man!
That bear'st a cheek for blows, a head for wrongs;
Who hast not in thy brows an eye discerning 52
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?
France spreads his banners in our noiseless land, 56
With plumed helm thy slayer begins threats,
Whilst thou, a moral fool, sitt'st still, and criest
'Alack! why does he so?']
Alb. See thyself, devil!
Proper deformity seems not in the fiend 60
So horrid as in woman.
Gon. O vain fool!
[Alb. 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, 64
They are apt enough to dislocate and tear
Thy flesh and bones; howe'er thou art a fiend,
A woman's shape doth shield thee.
Gon. Marry, your manhood.—Mew!] 68
Enter a Messenger.
[Alb. What news?]
Mess. O! my good lord, the Duke of Cornwall's dead;
Slain by his servant, going to put out
The other eye of Gloucester.
Alb. Gloucester's eyes! 72
Mess. A servant that he bred, thrill'd with remorse,
Oppos'd against the act, bending his sword
To his great master; who, thereat enrag'd,
Flew on him, and amongst them fell'd him dead; 76
But not without that harmful stroke, which since
Hath pluck'd him after.
Alb. This shows you are above,
You justicers, that these our nether crimes
So speedily can venge! But, O poor Gloucester!
Lost he his other eye?
Mess. Both, both, my lord. 81
This letter, madam, craves a speedy answer;
'Tis from your sister.
Gon. [Aside.] One way I like this well;
But being widow, and my Gloucester with her,
May all the building in my fancy pluck 85
Upon my hateful life; another way,
This news is not so tart. [To Messenger.] I'll read and answer.
Alb. Where was his son when they did take his eyes? 88
Mess. Come with my lady hither.
Alb. He is not here.
Mess. No, my good lord; I met him back again.
Alb. Knows he the wickedness?
Mess. Ay, my good lord; 'twas he inform'd against him, 92
And quit the house on purpose that their punishment
Might have the freer course.
Alb. Gloucester, I live
To thank thee for the love thou show'dst the king,
And to revenge thine eyes. Come hither, friend:
Tell me what more thou knowest. Exeunt.
Scene Three
[The French Camp, near Dover]
Enter Kent and a Gentleman.
Kent. Why the King of France is so suddenly
gone back know you the reason?
Gent. Something he left imperfect in the
state, which since his coming forth is thought
of; which imports to the kingdom so much fear
and danger, that his personal return was most
required and necessary. 7
Kent. Who hath he left behind him general?
Gent. The Marshal of France, Monsieur la Far.
Kent. Did your letters pierce the queen to
any demonstration of grief? 12
Gent. Ay, sir; she took them, read them in my presence;
And now and then an ample tear trill'd down
Her delicate cheek; it seem'd she was a queen
Over her passion; who, most rebel-like, 16
Sought to be king o'er her.
Kent. O! then it mov'd her.
Gent. 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 way; those happy smilets 21
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. In brief, 24
Sorrow would be a rarity most belov'd,
If all could so become it.
Kent. Made she no verbal question?
Gent. Faith, once or twice she heav'd the name of 'father'
Pantingly forth, as if it press'd her heart; 28
Cried, 'Sisters! sisters! Shame of ladies! sisters!
Kent! father! sisters! What, i' the storm? i' the night?
Let pity not be believed!' There she shook
The holy water from her heavenly eyes, 32
And clamour-moisten'd, then away she started
To deal with grief alone.
Kent. It is the stars,
The stars above us, govern our conditions;
Else one self mate and make could not beget 36
Such different issues. You spoke not with her since?
Gent. No.
Kent. Was this before the king return'd?
Gent. No, since.
Kent. Well, sir, the poor distress'd Lear's i' the town, 40
Who sometime, in his better tune, remembers
What we are come about, and by no means
Will yield to see his daughter.
Gent. Why, good sir?
Kent. A sovereign shame so elbows him: his own unkindness, 44
That stripp'd her from his benediction, turn'd her
To foreign casualties, gave her dear rights
To his dog-hearted daughters,—these things sting
His mind so venomously that burning shame
Detains him from Cordelia.
Gent. Alack! poor gentleman. 49
Kent. Of Albany's and Cornwall's powers you heard not?
Gent. 'Tis so, they are afoot.
Kent. Well, sir, I'll bring you to our master Lear, 52
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. I pray you, go
Along with me. Exeunt.]
Scene Four
[The Same. A Tent]
Enter with drum and colours, Cordelia, Gentlemen, [Doctor] and Soldiers.
Cor. 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 burdocks, hemlock, nettles, cuckoo-flowers,
Darnel, and all the idle weeds that grow 5
In our sustaining corn. A century send forth;
Search every acre in the high-grown field,
And bring him to our eye. [Exit an Officer.]
What can man's wisdom 8
In the restoring his bereaved sense?
He that helps him take all my outward worth.
[Doc.] There is means, madam;
Our foster-nurse of nature is repose, 12
The which he lacks; that to provoke in him,
Are many simples operative, whose power
Will close the eye of anguish.
Cor. All bless'd secrets,
All you unpublish'd virtues of the earth, 16
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.
Enter Messenger.
Mess. News, madam; 20
The British powers are marching hitherward.
Cor. 'Tis known before; our preparation stands
In expectation of them. O dear father!
It is thy business that I go about; 24
Therefore great France
My mourning and important tears hath pitied.
No blown ambition doth our arms incite,
But love, dear love, and our ag'd father's right,
Soon may I hear and see him! Exeunt.
Scene Five
[Gloucester's Castle]
Enter Regan and Steward [Oswald.]
Reg. But are my brother's powers set forth?
Osw. Ay, madam.
Reg. Himself in person there?
Osw. Madam, with much ado:
Your sister is the better soldier.
Reg. Lord Edmund spake not with your lord at home? 4
Osw. No, madam.
Reg. What might import my sister's letter to him?
Osw. I know not, lady.
Reg. Faith, he is posted hence on serious matter. 8
It was great ignorance, Gloucester's eyes being out,
To let him live; where he arrives he moves
All hearts against us. Edmund, I think, is gone,
In pity of his misery, to dispatch 12
His nighted life; moreover, to descry
The strength o' the enemy.
Osw. I must needs after him, madam, with my letter.
Reg. Our troops set forth to-morrow; stay with us, 16
The ways are dangerous.
Osw. I may not, madam;
My lady charg'd my duty in this business.
Reg. Why should she write to Edmund? Might not you
Transport her purposes by word? Belike, 20
Something—I know not what. I'll love thee much,
Let me unseal the letter.
Osw. Madam, I had rather—
Reg. I know your lady does not love her husband;
I am sure of that: and at her late being here 24
She gave strange œillades and most speaking looks
To noble Edmund. I know you are of her bosom.
Osw. I, madam!
Reg. I speak in understanding; you are, I know 't: 28
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. 32
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. 36
If you do chance to hear of that blind traitor,
Preferment falls on him that cuts him off.
Osw. Would I could meet him, madam: I would show
What party I do follow.
Reg. Fare thee well. Exeunt.
Scene Six
[The Country near Dover]
Enter Gloucester and Edgar.
Glo. When shall I come to the top of that same hill?
Edg. You do climb up it now; look how we labour.
Glo. Methinks the ground is even.
Edg. Horrible steep:
Hark! do you hear the sea?
Glo. No, truly. 4
Edg. Why, then your other senses grow imperfect
By your eyes' anguish.
Glo. So may it be, indeed.
Methinks thy voice is alter'd, and thou speak'st
In better phrase and matter than thou didst. 8
Edg. Y'are much deceived; in nothing am I chang'd
But in my garments.
Glo. Methinks you're better spoken.
Edg. Come on, sir; here's the place; stand still.
How fearful 12
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! 16
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 20
Almost too small for sight. The murmuring surge,
That on the unnumber'd idle pebbles chafes,
Cannot be heard so high. I'll look no more,
Lest my brain turn, and the deficient sight 24
Topple down headlong.
Glo. Set me where you stand.
Edg. Give me your hand; you are now within a foot
Of the extreme verge: for all beneath the moon
Would I not leap upright.
Glo. Let go my hand. 28
Here, friend, 's another purse; in it a jewel
Well worth a poor man's taking: fairies and gods
Prosper it with thee! Go thou further off;
Bid me farewell, and let me hear thee going. 32
Edg. Now fare you well, good sir.
Glo. With all my heart.
Edg. Why I do trifle thus with his despair
Is done to cure it.
Glo. O you mighty gods!
This world I do renounce, and, in your sights, 36
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 40
Burn itself out. If Edgar live, O, bless him!
Now, fellow, fare thee well. [He falls forward.]
Edg. Gone, sir: farewell.
[Aside.] And yet I know not how conceit may rob
The treasury of life when life itself 44
Yields to the theft; had he been where he thought
By this had thought been past. Alive or dead?
[To Gloucester.] Ho, you sir! friend! Hear you, sir? speak!
Thus might he pass indeed; yet he revives. 48
What are you, sir?
Glo. Away and let me die.
Edg. Hadst thou been aught but gossamer, feathers, air,
So many fathom down precipitating,
Thou 'dst shiver'd like an egg; but thou dost breathe, 52
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's a miracle. Speak yet again. 56
Glo. But have I fallen or no?
Edg. From the dread summit of this chalky bourn.
Look up a-height; the shrill-gorg'd lark so far
Cannot be seen or heard: do but look up. 60
Glo. Alack! I have no eyes.
Is wretchedness depriv'd that benefit
To end itself by death? 'Twas yet some comfort,
When misery could beguile the tyrant's rage, 64
And frustrate his proud will.
Edg. Give me your arm:
Up: so. How is 't? Feel you your legs? You stand.
Glo. Too well, too well.
Edg. This is above all strangeness.
Upon the crown o' the cliff, what thing was that
Which parted from you?
Glo. A poor unfortunate beggar. 69
Edg. As I stood here below methought his eyes
Were two full moons; he had a thousand noses,
Horns whelk'd and wav'd like the enridged sea:
It was some fiend; therefore, thou happy father,
Think that the clearest gods, who make them honours 74
Of men's impossibilities, have preserv'd thee.
Glo. I do remember now; henceforth I'll bear
Affliction till it do cry out itself 77
'Enough, enough,' and die. That thing you speak of
I took it for a man; often 'twould say
'The fiend, the fiend:' he led me to that place.
Edg. Bear free and patient thoughts. But who comes here? 81
Enter Lear.
The safer sense will ne'er accommodate
His master thus.
Lear. No, they cannot touch me for coining;
I am the king himself. 85
Edg. O thou side-piercing sight!
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. O! well flown, bird; i' the
clout, i' the clout: hewgh! Give the word.
Edg. Sweet marjoram.
Lear. Pass. 96
Glo. I know that voice.
Lear. Ha! Goneril, with a white beard!
They flatter'd 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' too was no good divi-
nity. 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. Go to, they are not
men o' their words: they told me I was every-
thing; 'tis a lie, I am not ague-proof. 108
Glo. The trick of that voice I do well remember:
Is 't not the king?
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? 112
Adultery?
Thou shalt not die: die for adultery! No:
The wren goes to 't, and the small gilded fly
Does lecher in my sight. 116
Let copulation thrive; for Gloucester's bastard son
Was kinder to his father than my daughters
Got 'tween the lawful sheets.
To 't luxury, pell-mell! for I lack soldiers. 120
Behold yond simpering dame,
Whose face between her forks presageth snow;
That minces virtue, and does shake the head
To hear of pleasure's name; 124
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: 128
But to the girdle do the gods inherit,
Beneath is all the fiends':
There's hell, there's darkness, there is the sulphurous pit, 131
Burning, scalding, stench, consumption; fie, fie,
fie! pah, pah! Give me an ounce of civet, good
apothecary, to sweeten my imagination: there's
money for thee.
Glo. O! let me kiss that hand! 136
Lear. Let me wipe it first; it smells of mortality.
Glo. O ruin'd piece of nature! This great world
Shall so wear out to naught. Dost thou know me? 139
Lear. I remember thine eyes well enough.
Dost thou squiny at me? No, do thy worst,
blind Cupid; I'll not love. Read thou this
challenge; mark but the penning of it.
Glo. Were all the letters suns, I could not see.
Edg. [Aside.] I would not take this from report; it is, 145
And my heart breaks at it.
Lear. Read.
Glo. What! with the case of eyes? 148
Lear. O, ho! are you there with me? No
eyes in your head, nor no money in your purse?
Your eyes are in a heavy case, your purse in a
light: yet you see how this world goes. 152
Glo. I see it feelingly.
Lear. What! art mad? A man may see how
this world goes with no eyes. Look with thine
ears: see how yond justice rails upon yon simple
thief. Hark, in thine ear: change places; and,
handy-dandy, which is the justice, which is the
thief? Thou hast seen a farmer's dog bark at a
beggar? 160
Glo. Ay, sir.
Lear. And the creature run from the cur?
There thou mightst behold the great image of
authority: a dog's obey'd in office. 164
Thou rascal beadle, hold thy bloody hand!
Why dost thou lash that whore? Strip thine own back;
Thou hotly lust'st to use her in that kind
For which thou whipp'st her. The usurer hangs the cozener. 168
Through tatter'd clothes small 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 pigmy's straw doth pierce it.
None does offend, none, I say none; I'll able 'em: 173
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 176
To see the things thou dost not. Now, now, now, now;
Pull off my boots; harder, harder; so.
Edg. [Aside.] O! matter and impertinency mix'd;
Reason in madness! 180
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 184
We waul and cry. I will preach to thee: mark.
Glo. Alack! alack the day!
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 189
A troop of horse with felt; I'll put it in proof,
And when I have stol'n upon these sons-in-law,
Then, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill! 192
Enter a Gentleman, [with Attendants.]
Gent. 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; 196
You shall have ransom. Let me have surgeons;
I am cut to the brains.
Gent. You shall have any thing.
Lear. No seconds? All myself?
Why this would make a man a man of salt, 200
To use his eyes for garden water-pots,
Ay, and laying autumn's dust.
Gent. Good sir,—
Lear. I will die bravely as a bridegroom. What!
I will be jovial: come, come; I am a king, 204
My masters, know you that?
Gent. You are a royal one, and we obey you.
Lear. Then there's life in it. Nay, an you
get it, you shall get it by running. Sa, sa, sa, sa.
Gent. A sight most pitiful in the meanest wretch, 209
Past speaking of in a king! Thou hast one daughter,
Who redeems nature from the general curse
Which twain have brought her to. 212
Edg. Hail, gentle sir!
Gent. Sir, speed you: what's your will?
Edg. Do you hear aught, sir, of a battle toward?
Gent. Most sure and vulgar; every one hears that,
Which can distinguish sound.
Edg. But, by your favour, 216
How near's the other army?
Gent. Near, and on speedy foot; the main descry
Stands on the hourly thought.
Edg. I thank you, sir: that's all.
Gent. Though that the queen on special cause is here, 220
Her army is mov'd on. Exit.
Edg. I thank you, sir.
Glo. You ever-gentle gods, take my breath from me:
Let not my worser spirit tempt me again
To die before you please!
Edg. Well pray you, father. 224
Glo. Now, good sir, what are you?
Edg. A most poor man, made tame to fortune's blows;
Who, by the art of known and feeling sorrows,
Am pregnant to good pity. Give me your hand,
I'll lead you to some biding.
Glo. Hearty thanks: 229
The bounty and the benison of heaven
To boot, and boot!
Enter Steward [Oswald.]
Osw. A proclaim'd prize! Most happy!
That eyeless head of thine was first fram'd flesh
To raise my fortunes. Thou old unhappy traitor, 233
Briefly thyself remember: the sword is out
That must destroy thee.
Glo. Now let thy friendly hand
Put strength enough to 't. [Edgar interposes.]
Osw. Wherefore, bold peasant, 236
Dar'st thou support a publish'd traitor? Hence;
Lest that infection of his fortune take
Like hold on thee. Let go his arm.
Edg. Chill not let go, zur, without vurther
'casion. 241
Osw. Let go, slave, or thou diest.
Edg. Good gentleman, go your gait, and let
poor volk pass. An chud ha' bin zwaggered
out of my life, 'twould not ha' bin zo long as
'tis by a vortnight. Nay, come not near th' old
man; keep out, che vor ye, or ise try whether
your costard or my ballow be the harder. Chill
be plain with you. 249
Osw. Out, dunghill!
Edg. Chill pick your teeth, zur. Come; no
matter vor your foins. 252
Osw. 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 English party: O! untimely death. 257
Edg. I know thee well: a serviceable villain;
As duteous to the vices of thy mistress
As badness would desire.
Glo. What! is he dead? 260
Edg. Sit you down, father; rest you.
Let's see his pockets: these letters that he speaks of
May be my friends. He's dead; I am only sorry
He had no other deaths-man. Let us see: 264
Leave, gentle wax; and, manners, blame us not:
To know our enemies' minds, we'd rip their hearts;
Their papers, is more lawful.
"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— 276
Affectionate servant,
Goneril."
O undistinguish'd space of woman's will!
A plot upon her virtuous husband's life, 280
And the exchange my brother! Here, in the sands,
Thee I'll rake up, the post unsanctified
Of murderous lechers; and in the mature time
With this ungracious paper strike the sight 284
Of the death-practis'd duke. For him 'tis well
That of thy death and business I can tell.
Glo. The king is mad: how stiff is my vile sense,
That I stand up, and have ingenious feeling 288
Of my huge sorrows! Better I were distract:
So should my thoughts be sever'd from my griefs,
And woes by wrong imaginations lose
The knowledge of themselves. [Drums afar.]
Edg. Give me your hand! 292
Far off, methinks, I hear the beaten drum.
Come, father, I'll bestow you with a friend.
Scene Seven
[A Tent in the French Camp]
Enter Cordelia, Kent, and Gentleman [Doctor.]
Cor. O thou good Kent! how shall I live and work
To match thy goodness? My life will be too short,
And every measure fail me.
Kent. To be acknowledg'd, madam, is o'erpaid. 4
All my reports go with the modest truth,
Nor more nor clipp'd, but so.
Cor. Be better suited:
These weeds are memories of those worser hours:
I prithee, put them off.
Kent. Pardon me, dear madam; 8
Yet to be known shortens my made intent:
My boon I make it that you know me not
Till time and I think meet.
Cor. Then be 't so, my good lord.—[To the Doctor.] How does the king? 12
[Doc.] Madam, sleeps still.
Cor. O you kind gods,
Cure this great breach in his abused nature!
The untun'd and jarring senses, O! wind up 16
Of this child-changed father!
[Doc.] So please your majesty
That we may wake the king? he hath slept long.
Cor. Be govern'd by your knowledge, and proceed
I' the sway of your own will. Is he array'd? 20
Enter Lear in a chair carried by Servants.
Gent. Ay, madam; in the heaviness of sleep,
We put fresh garments on him.
[Doc.] Be by, good madam, when we do awake him;
I doubt not of his temperance.
Cor. Very well. [Music.]
[Doc.] Please you, draw near. Louder the music there. 25
Cor. O my dear father! Restoration, hang
Thy medicine on my lips, and let this kiss
Repair those violent harms that my two sisters
Have in thy reverence made!
Kent. Kind and dear princess! 29
Cor. Had you not been their father, these white flakes
Had challeng'd pity of them. Was this a face
To be expos'd against the warring winds? 32
[To stand against the deep dread-bolted thunder?
In the most terrible and nimble stroke
Of quick cross lightning? to watch—poor perdu!—
With this thin helm?] Mine enemy's dog, 36
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? Alack, alack! 40
'Tis wonder that thy life and wits at once
Had not concluded all. He wakes; speak to him.
[Doc.] Madam, do you; 'tis fittest.
Cor. How does my royal lord? How fares your majesty? 44
Lear. You do me wrong to take me out o' the grave;
Thou art a soul in bliss; but I am bound
Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears
Do scald like molten lead.
Cor. Sir, do you know me? 48
Lear. You are a spirit, I know; when did you die?
Cor. Still, still, far wide.
[Doc.] He's scarce awake; let him alone awhile.
Lear. Where have I been? Where am I? Fair day-light? 52
I am mightily abus'd. I should even die with pity
To see another thus. I know not what to say.
I will not swear these are my hands: let's see;
I feel this pin prick. Would I were assur'd 56
Of my condition!
Cor. O! look upon me, sir,
And hold your hands in benediction o'er me.
No, sir, you must not kneel.
Lear. Pray, do not mock me:
I am a very foolish fond old man, 60
Fourscore and upward, not an hour more or less;
And, to deal plainly,
I fear I am not in my perfect mind.
Methinks I should know you and know this man; 64
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. Do not laugh at me; 68
For, as I am a man, I think this lady
To be my child Cordelia.
Cor. And so I am, I am.
Lear. Be your tears wet? Yes, faith. I pray, weep not:
If you have poison for me, I will drink it. 72
I know you do not love me; for your sisters
Have, as I do remember, done me wrong:
You have some cause, they have not.
Cor. No cause, no cause.
Lear. Am I in France?
Kent. In your own kingdom, sir.
Lear. Do not abuse me. 77
[Doc.] 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. 80
Desire him to go in; trouble him no more
Till further settling.
Cor. Will 't please your highness walk?
Lear. You must bear with me.
Pray you now, forget and forgive: I am old and foolish.
[Gent. Holds it true, sir, that the Duke of
Cornwall was so slain?
Kent. Most certain, sir.
Gent. Who is conductor of his people? 88
Kent. As 'tis said, the bastard son of Gloucester.
Gent. They say Edgar, his banished son, is
with the Earl of Kent in Germany.
Kent. Report is changeable. 'Tis time to
look about; the powers of the kingdom
approach apace. 94
Gent. The arbitrement is like to be bloody.
Fare you well, sir. [Exit.]
Kent. My point and period will be throughly wrought, 97
Or well or ill, as this day's battle's fought.] [Exit.]
Footnotes to Act IV
Scene One
4 esperance: hope
11 mutations; cf. n.
20 means; cf. n.
52 daub: overpaint reality
62 mopping and mowing: making grimaces
Scene Two
12 cowish: easily cowed
14 tie him to: require
29 worth the whistle; cf. n.
31 fear: fear for
34 sliver: deprive of twigs
42 head-lugg'd: led about by a muzzle
54 Fools, etc.; cf. n.
58 moral: moralizing
60 Proper: that which belongs
61 vain: empty
62 self-cover'd: hypocritical
63 Be-monster not thy feature: don't let your whole appearance become beastly
65 apt: ready
73 remorse: pity
Scene Three
16 who: which
21 better way: like sunshine and rain, but even better
26 verbal question: oral conversation
33 clamour-moisten'd: wet with lamentation
36 mate and make: husband and wife
46 To foreign casualties: to take chances among foreigners
Scene Four
3 fumiter: fumitory, plant with bitter taste
4 cuckoo-flowers: the ragged robin, a marsh plant
5 Darnel: a weed, injurious to growing crops
idle: worthless
6 century: company of one hundred men
14 simples: medicinal plants
17 aidant and remediate: aiding and remedial
26 important: importunate
Scene Five
25 œillades: oglings
26 of her bosom: in her confidence
Scene Six
14 choughs: bird of the crow family, jackdaw
16 samphire: samper, used for pickles
20 cock: cock-boat
22 unnumber'd: innumerable
24 deficient sight: sight failing
39 opposeless: invincible
40 snuff; cf. n.
43 conceit: imagination
54 at each: one on another
58 bourn: boundary
59 shrill-gorg'd: high-voiced
72 whelk'd: twisted
74 clearest gods; cf. n.
82 safer: saner
accommodate: equip
88 press-money: money given to soldiers when pressed into service
89 crow-keeper: scare-crow (?)
clothier's yard: cloth-yard shaft, used with long bow; cf. n.
93 brown bills: halberds, or, men carrying them
94 clout: bull's-eye, bit of white cloth used for mark in archery
101 'ay' and 'no'; cf. n.
120 luxury: lewdness
122 forks: legs
123 minces: makes an affected show of
125 fitchew: polecat
soiled: overfed
141 squiny: squint
148 case: sockets
158 handy-dandy; cf. n.
173 able: be responsible for
179 impertinency: irrelevant talk
185 waul: caterwaul
188 This': this is
block: hat
215 vulgar: common
218 main descry, etc.; cf. n.
228 pregnant: ready, receptive
229 biding: abiding-place
231 To boot, and boot: over and over
240 chill: I will
244 An chud: if I should
247 che vor ye: I warn you
248 costard: apple, used jokingly for head
ballow: stick
252 foins: thrusts
265 Leave: give leave
277 servant: lover
279 undistinguish'd space: incalculable scope
282 rake up: cover
285 death-practis'd: mortally plotted against
288 ingenious: conscious
Scene Seven
6 suited: dressed
7 weeds: clothes
9 made intent: fixed purpose
17 child-changed: change due to daughters' behavior
35 perdu: soldier placed in a forlorn hope
42 all: entirely
65 mainly: mightily
80 even o'er, etc.: fill in the chasm in his memory
95 arbitrement: process of decision