The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works
Page 300
Arms, arms, sword, fire, corruption in the place!
False justicer, why hast thou let her scape?
EDGAR Bless thy five wits.
KENT (to Lear)
O pity! Sir, where is the patience now
That you so oft have boasted to retain?
EDGAR (aside)
My tears begin to take his part so much
They’ll mar my counterfeiting.
LEAR The little dogs and all,
Tray, Blanch, and Sweetheart—see, they bark at me.
EDGAR Tom will throw his head at them.—Avaunt, you curs!
Be thy mouth or black or white,
Tooth that poisons if it bite,
Mastiff, greyhound, mongrel grim,
Hound or spaniel, brach or him,
Bobtail tyke or trundle-tail,
Tom will make them weep and wail;
For with throwing thus my head,
Dogs leap the hatch, and all are fled.
Loudla, doodla! Come, march to wakes and fairs
And market towns. Poor Tom, thy horn is dry.
LEAR Then let them anatomize Regan; see what breeds about her heart. Is there any cause in nature that makes this hardness? (To Edgar) You, sir, I entertain you for one of my hundred, only I do not like the fashion of your garments. You’ll say they are Persian attire; but let them be changed.
KENT
Now, good my lord, lie here a while.
LEAR Make no noise, make no noise. Draw the curtains.
So, so, so. We’ll go to supper i’th’ morning. So, so, so.
He sleeps. Enter the Duke of Gloucester
GLOUCESTER (to Kent)
Come hither, friend. Where is the King my master?
KENT
Here, sir, but trouble him not; his wits are gone.
GLOUCESTER
Good friend, I prithee 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. Take up, take up,
And follow me, that will to some provision
Give thee quick conduct.
KENT (to Lear) Oppressed nature sleeps.
This rest might yet have balmed thy broken sinews
Which, if convenience will not allow,
Stand in hard cure. (To Fool) Come, help to bear thy
master.
Thou must not stay behind.
GLOUCESTER Come, come away.
Exeunt all but Edgar
EDGAR
When we our betters see bearing our woes,
We scarcely think our miseries our foes.
Who alone suffers, suffers most i‘th’ 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!
Lurk, lurk.
Exit
Sc. 14 Enter the Duke of Cornwall and Regan, and Gonoril and Edmund the bastard, and Servants
CORNWALL (to Gonoril)
Post speedily to my lord your husband.
Show him this letter. The army of France is landed.
(To Servants) Seek out the villain Gloucester.
Exeunt some
REGAN
Hang him instantly.
GONORIL
Pluck out his eyes.
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
intelligence betwixt us.—
Farewell, dear sister. Farewell, my lord of Gloucester.
Enter Oswald the steward
How now, where’s the King?
OSWALD
My lord of Gloucester hath conveyed him hence.
Some five- or six-and-thirty of his knights,
Hot questants after him, met him at gate,
Who, with some other of the lord’s dependants,
Are gone with him towards Dover, where they boast
To have well-armed friends.
CORNWALL Get horses for your mistress. Exit Oswald
GONORIL Farewell, sweet lord, and sister.
CORNWALL
Edmund, farewell. Exeunt Gonoril and Edmund
(To Servants) Go seek the traitor Gloucester.
Pinion him like a thief; bring him before us.
Exeunt other Servants
Though we may not pass upon his life
Without the form of justice, yet our power
Shall do a curtsy to our wrath, which men
May blame but not control. Who’s there—the traitor?
Enter the Duke of Gloucester brought in by two or
three
REGAN
Ingrateful fox, ’tis he.
CORNWALL (to Servants) Bind fast his corky arms.
GLOUCESTER
What means your graces? Good my friends, consider
You are my guests. Do me no foul play, friends.
CORNWALL (to Servants)
Bind him, I say—
REGAN Hard, hard! O filthy traitor!
GLOUCESTER
Unmerciful lady as you are, I am true.
CORNWALL (to Servants)
To this chair bind him. (To Gloucester) Villain, thou
shalt find—
Regan plucks Gloucester’s beard
GLOUCESTER
By the kind gods, ’tis most ignobly done,
To pluck me by the beard.
REGAN So white, and such a traitor!
GLOUCESTER Naughty lady,
These hairs which thou dost ravish from my chin
Will quicken and accuse thee. I am your host.
With robbers’ hands my hospitable favours
You should not ruffle thus. What will you do?
CORNWALL
Come, sir, what letters had you late from France?
REGAN
Be simple, answerer, for we know the truth.
CORNWALL
And what confederacy have you with the traitors
Late footed in the kingdom?
REGAN To whose hands
You have sent the lunatic King. Speak.
GLOUCESTER
I have a letter guessingly set down,
Which came from one that’s of a neutral heart,
And not from one opposed.
CORNWALL Cunning.
REGAN And false.
CORNWALL
Where hast thou sent the King?
GLOUCESTER To Dover.
REGAN
Wherefore to Dover? Wast thou not charged at peril—
CORNWALL
Wherefore to Dover? Let him first answer that.
GLOUCESTER
I am tied to th’ stake, and I must stand the course.
REGAN Wherefore to Dover, sir?
GLOUCESTER
Because I would not see thy cruel nails
Pluck out his poor old eyes, nor thy fierce sister
In his anointed flesh rash boarish fangs.
The sea, with such a storm as his bowed head
In hell-
black night endured, would have buoyed up
And quenched the stellèd fires. Yet, poor old heart,
He holped the heavens to rage.
If wolves had at thy gate howled that dern time,
Thou shouldst have said ‘Good porter, turn the key;
All cruels I’ll subscribe.’ But I shall see
The winged vengeance overtake such children.
CORNWALL
See’t shalt thou never.—Fellows, hold the chair.—
Upon those eyes of thine I’ll set my foot.
GLOUCESTER
He that will think to live till he be old
Give me some help!—O cruel! O ye gods!
⌈Cornwall pulls out one of Gloucester’s eyes and
stamps on it⌉
REGAN (to Cornwall)
One side will mock another; t’other, too.
CORNWALL (to Gloucester)
If you see vengeance—
SERVANT Hold your hand, my lord.
I have served you ever since I was a child,
But better service have I never done you
Than now to bid you hold.
REGAN How now, you dog!
SERVANT
If you did wear a beard upon your chin
I’d shake it on this quarrel. ⌈To Cornwall⌉ What do
you mean?
CORNWALL My villein!
SERVANT
Why then, come on, and take the chance of anger.
They draw and fight
REGAN ⌈to another Servant⌉
Give me thy sword. A peasant stand up thus!
She takes a sword and runs at him behind
SERVANT (to Gloucester)
O, I am slain, my lord! Yet have you one eye left
To see some mischief on him.
⌈Regan stabs him again⌉
O! He dies
CORNWALL
Lest it see more, prevent it. Out, vile jelly!
He ⌈pulls out⌉ Gloucester’s other eye
Where is thy lustre now?
GLOUCESTER
All dark and comfortless. Where’s my son Edmund?
Edmund, enkindle all the sparks of nature
To quite this horrid act.
REGAN Out, villain!
Thou call’st on him that hates thee. It was he
That made the overture of thy treasons to us,
Who is too good to pity thee.
GLOUCESTER
O, my follies! Then Edgar was abused.
Kind gods, forgive me that, and prosper him!
REGAN (to Servants)
Go thrust him out at gates, and let him smell
His way to Dover. (To Cornwall) How is’t, my lord?
How look you?
CORNWALL
I have received a hurt. Follow me, lady.
(To Servants) Turn out that eyeless villain. Throw this
slave
Upon the dunghill.
Exit one or more with Gloucester
⌈and the body⌉
Regan, I bleed apace.
Untimely comes this hurt. Give me your arm.
Exeunt Cornwall and Regan
SECOND SERVANT
I’ll never care what wickedness I do
If this man come to good.
THIRD SERVANT If she live long
And in the end meet the old course of death,
Women will all turn monsters.
SECOND SERVANT
Let’s follow the old Earl and get the bedlam
To lead him where he would. His roguish madness
Allows itself to anything.
THIRD SERVANT
Go thou. I’ll fetch some flax and whites of eggs
To apply to his bleeding face. Now heaven help him!
Exeunt severally
Sc. 15 Enter Edgar as a Bedlam beggar
EDGAR
Yet better thus and known to be contemned
Than still contemned and flattered. To be worst,
The low’st 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.
Enter the Duke of Gloucester led by an Old Man
Who’s here? My father, parti-eyed? World, world, O
world!
But that thy strange mutations make us hate thee,
Life would not yield to age.
⌈Edgar stands aside⌉
OLD MAN (to Gloucester) O my good lord,
I have been your tenant and your father’s tenant
This fourscore—
GLOUCESTER
Away, get thee away, good friend, be gone.
Thy comforts can do me no good at all;
Thee they may hurt.
OLD MAN
Alack, sir, you cannot see your way.
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. 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?
EDGAR (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.
EDGAR (aside)
And worse I may be yet. The worst is not
As long as we can say ‘This is the worst.’
OLD MAN (to Edgar) Fellow, where goest?
GLOUCESTER Is it a beggarman?
OLD MAN Madman and beggar too.
GLOUCESTER
A has some reason, else he could not beg.
In 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.
As flies to wanton boys are we to th’ gods;
They kill us for their sport.
EDGAR (aside) How should this be?
Bad is the trade that must play fool to sorrow,
Ang’ring itself and others.
⌈He comes forward⌉
Bless thee, master.
GLOUCESTER
Is that the naked fellow?
OLD MAN Ay, my lord.
GLOUCESTER
Then prithee, get thee gone. If for my sake
Thou wilt o‘ertake us hence a mile or twain
I’th’ way toward Dover, do it for ancient love,
And bring some covering for this naked soul,
Who I’ll entreat to lead me.
OLD MAN Alack, sir, he is mad.
GLOUCESTER
’Tis the time’s plague when madmen lead the blind.
Do as I bid thee; or rather do thy pleasure.
Above the rest, be gone.
OLD MAN
I’ll bring him the best ’parel that I have,
Come on’t what will. Exit
GLOUCESTER Sirrah, naked fellow!
EDGAR
Poor Tom’s a-cold. I cannot dance it farther.
GLOUCESTER Come hither, fellow.
EDGAR Bless thy sweet eyes, they bleed.
GLOUCESTER Know’st thou the way to Dover?
EDGAR Both stile and gate, horseway and footpath. Poor Tom hath been scared out of his good wits. Bless thee, goodman, from the foul fiend. Five fiends have been in Poor Tom at once, as Obidicut of lust, Hobbididence prince of dumbness, Mahu of stealing, Modo of murder, Flibbertigibbet of mocking and mowing, who since possesses chambermaids and waiting-women. So bless thee, master.
GLOUCESTER
Here, take this purse, thou whom the heavens’ plagues
Have humbled to all strokes. That I am wretched
&n
bsp; Makes thee the happier. Heavens deal so still.
Let the superfluous and lust-dieted man
That stands 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. Dost thou know Dover?
EDGAR Ay, master.
GLOUCESTER
There is a cliff whose high and bending head
Looks saucily in the confined deep.
Bring me but to the very brim of it
And I’ll repair the misery thou dost bear
With something rich about me. From that place
I shall no leading need.
EDGAR Give me thy arm.
Poor Tom shall lead thee.
Exit Edgar guiding Gloucester
Sc. 16 Enter ⌈at one door⌉ Gonoril and Edmund the bastard
GONORIL
Welcome, my lord. I marvel our mild husband
Not met us on the way.
Enter ⌈at another door⌉ Oswald the steward
Now, where’s your master?
OSWALD
Madam, within; but never man so changed.
I told him of the army that was landed;
He smiled 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 informed him, then he called me sot,
And told me I had turned the wrong side out.
What he should most defy seems pleasant to him;
What like, offensive.
GONORIL (to Edmund) 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 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,
A mistress’s command. Wear this. Spare speech.
Decline your head. This kiss, if it durst speak,
Would stretch thy spirits up into the air.
⌈she kisses him⌉
Conceive, and fare you well.
EDMUND Yours in the ranks of death.
GONORIL My most dear Gloucester.
⌈Exit Edmund⌉