The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works

by William Shakespeare

  GONERIL

  I have been worth the whistling.

  ALBANY

  O Goneril,

  You are not worth the dust which the rude wind

  Blows in your face.

  GONERIL

  Milk-livered 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—

  ALBANY

  See thyself, devil.

  Proper deformity shows not in the fiend

  So horrid as in woman.

  GONERIL

  O vain fool!

  Enter a Messenger

  MESSENGER

  O my good lord, the Duke of Cornwall’s dead,

  Slain by his servant going to put out

  The other eye of Gloucester.

  ALBANY

  Gloucester’s eyes?

  MESSENGER

  A servant that he bred, thrilled with remorse,

  Opposed against the act, bending his sword

  To his great master, who thereat enraged

  Flew on him, and amongst them felled him dead,

  But not without that harmful stroke which since

  Hath plucked him after.

  ALBANY

  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?

  MESSENGER

  Both, both, my lord.—µ

  This letter, madam, craves a speedy answer.

  ’Tis from your sister.

  GONERIL (aside)

  One way I like this well;

  But being widow, and my Gloucester with her,

  May all the building in my fancy pluck

  Upon my hateful life. Another way

  The news is not so tart.—I’ll read and answer.

  ⌈Exit with Oswald⌉

  ALBANY

  Where was his son when they did take his eyes?

  MESSENGER

  Come with my lady hither.

  ALBANY

  He is not here.

  MESSENGER

  No, my good lord; I met him back again.

  ALBANY Knows he the wickedness?

  MESSENGER

  Ay, my good lord; ’twas he informed against him,

  And quit the house on purpose that their punishment

  Might have the freer course.

  ALBANY

  Gloucester, I live

  To thank thee for the love thou showed‘st the King,

  And to revenge thine eyes.—Come hither, friend.

  Tell me what more thou know’st.

  Exeunt

  4.3 Enter with a drummer and colours, Queen Cordelia, Gentlemen, and soldiers

  CORDELIA

  Alack, ’tis he! Why, he was met even now,

  As mad as the vexed sea, singing aloud,

  Crowned with rank fumitor and furrow-weeds,

  With burdocks, hemlock, nettles, cuckoo-flowers,

  Darnel, and all the idle weeds that grow

  In our sustaining corn. A century send forth.

  Search every acre in the high-grown field,

  And bring him to our eye.

  ⌈Exit one or more⌉

  What can man’s wisdom

  In the restoring his

  He that helps him take all my outward worth.

  ⌈FIRST⌉GENTLEMAN There is means, madam.

  Our foster-nurse of nature is repose,

  The which he lacks. That to provoke in him

  Are many simples operative, whose power

  Will close the eye of anguish.

  CORDELIA

  All blest secrets,

  All you unpublished virtues of the earth,

  Spring with my tears, be aidant and remediate

  In the good man’s distress!—Seek, seek for him,

  Lest his ungoverned rage dissolve the life

  That wants the means to lead it.

  Enter a Messenger

  MESSENGER

  News, madam.

  The British powers are marching hitherward.

  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 importuned tears hath pitied.

  No blown ambition doth our arms incite,

  But love, dear love, and our aged father’s right.

  Soon may I hear and see him!

  Exeunt

  4.4 Enter Regan and Oswald the steward

  REGAN

  But are my brother’s powers set forth?

  OSWALD

  Ay, madam.

  REGAN

  Himself in person there?

  OSWALD

  Madam, with much ado.

  Your sister is the better soldier.

  REGAN

  Lord Edmond spake not with your lord at home?

  OSWALD No, madam.

  REGAN

  What might import my sister’s letters to him?

  OSWALD I know not, lady.

  REGAN

  Faith, he is posted hence on serious matter.

  It was great ignorance, Gloucester’s eyes being out,

  To let him live. Where he arrives he moves

  All hearts against us. Edmond, I think, is gone,

  In pity of his misery, to dispatch

  His ‘nighted life, moreover to descry

  The strength o’th’ enemy.

  OSWALD

  I must needs after, madam, with my letter.

  REGAN

  Our troops set forth tomorrow. Stay with us.

  The ways are dangerous.

  OSWALD

  I may not, madam.

  My lady charged my duty in this business.

  REGAN

  Why should she write to Edmond? Might not you

  Transport her purposes by word? Belike—

  Some things—I know not what. I’ll love thee much:

  Let me unseal the letter.

  OSWALD

  Madam, I had rather—

  REGAN

  I know your lady does not love her husband.

  I am sure of that, and at her late being here

  She gave strange oeillades and most speaking looks

  To noble Edmond. I know you are of her bosom.

  OSWALD I, madam?

  REGAN

  I speak in understanding. Y’are, I know’t.

  Therefore I do advise you take this note.

  My lord is dead. Edmond and I have talked,

  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.

  If you do chance to hear of that blind traitor,

  Preferment falls on him that cuts him off.

  OSWALD

  Would I could meet him, madam. I should show

  What party I do follow.

  REGAN

  Fare thee well.

  Exeunt severally

  4.5 Enter Edgar disguised as a peasant, with a staff, guiding the blind Duke of Gloucester

  GLOUCESTER

  When shall I come to th’ top of that same hill?

  EDGAR

  You do climb up it now. Look how we labour.

  GLOUCESTER

  Methinks the ground is even.

  EDGAR

  Horrible steep.

  Hark, do you hear the sea?

  GLOUCESTER

  No, truly.

  EDGAR

  Why, then your other senses grow imperfect

  By your eyes’ anguish.

  GLOUCESTER

  So may it be indeed.
>
  Methinks thy voice is altered, and thou speak’st

  In better phrase and matter than thou didst.

  EDGAR

  You’re much deceived. In nothing am I changed

  But in my garments.

  GLOUCESTER

  Methinks you’re better spoken.

  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. Halfway 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 yon tall anchoring barque

  Diminished to her cock, her cock a buoy

  Almost too small for sight. The murmuring surge

  That on th’unnumbered idle pebble chafes

  Cannot be heard so high. I’ll look no more,

  Lest my brain turn and the deficient sight

  Topple down headlong.

  GLOUCESTER

  Set me where you stand.

  EDGAR

  Give me your hand. You are now within a foot

  Of th’extreme verge. For all beneath the moon

  Would I not leap upright.

  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! Go thou further off.

  Bid me farewell, and let me hear thee going.

  EDGAR

  Now fare ye well, good sir.

  He stands aside

  GLOUCESTER

  With all my heart.

  EDGAR (aside)

  Why I do trifle thus with his despair

  Is done to cure it.

  GLOUCESTER (keeling) 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!—

  Now, fellow, fare thee well.

  EDGAR

  Gone, sir. Farewell.

  Gloucester falls forward

  (Aside) 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?

  (To Gloucester) Ho, you, sir, friend; hear you, sir?

  Speak.

  (Aside) Thus might he pass indeed. Yet he revives.

  (To Gloucester) What are you, sir?

  GLOUCESTER

  Away, and let me die.

  EDGAR

  Hadst thou been aught but gossamer, feathers, air,

  So many fathom down precipitating

  Thou‘dst shivered like an egg. But thou dost breathe,

  Hast heavy substance, bleed’st not, speak’st, art sound.

  Ten masts a-length make not the altitude

  Which thou hast perpendicularly fell.

  Thy life’s a miracle. Speak yet again.

  GLOUCESTER But have I fall’n, or no?

  EDGAR

  From the dread summit of this chalky bourn.

  Look up a-height. The shrill-gorged lark so far

  Cannot be seen or heard. Do but look up.

  GLOUCESTER Alack, I have no eyes.

  Is wretchedness deprived that benefit

  To end itself by death? ’Twas yet some comfort

  When misery could beguile the tyrant’s rage

  And frustrate his proud will.

  EDGAR

  Give me your arm.

  Up, so. How is’t? Feel you your legs? You stand.

  GLOUCESTER

  Too well, too well.

  EDGAR

  This is above all strangeness.

  Upon the crown o’th’ cliff what thing was that

  Which parted from you?

  GLOUCESTER

  A poor unfortunate beggar.

  EDGAR

  As I stood here below, methoughts his eyes

  Were two full moons. He had a thousand noses,

  Horns whelked and waved like the enraged sea.

  It was some fiend. Therefore, thou happy father,

  Think that the clearest gods, who make them honours

  Of men’s impossibilities, have preserved thee.

  GLOUCESTER

  I do remember now. Henceforth I’ll bear

  Affliction till it do cry out itself

  ‘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.

  EDGAR

  Bear free and patient thoughts.

  Enter King Lear mad, ⌈crowned with weeds and flowers⌉

  But who comes here?

  The safer sense will ne’er accommodate

  His master thus.

  LEAR No, they cannot touch me for crying. I am the King himself.

  EDGAR 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‘th’ clout, i’th’ clout! Whew! Give the word.

  EDGAR Sweet marjoram.

  LEAR Pass.

  GLOUCESTER I know that voice.

  LEAR Ha! Goneril with a white beard? They flattered me like a dog, and told me I had the white hairs in my beard ere the black ones were there. To say ‘ay’ and ‘no’ to everything that 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. Go to, they are not men o’ their words. They told me I was everything; ’tis a lie, I am not ague-proof.

  GLOUCESTER

  The trick of that voice I do well remember.

  Is’t not the King?

  LEAR

  Ay, every inch a king.

  ⌈Gloucester kneels⌉

  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. To‘t, luxury, pell-mell,

  For I lack soldiers. Behold yon 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 soilèd horse goes to’t

  With a more riotous appetite. Down from the waist

  They’re 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. Fie, fie, fie; pah, pah! Give me an ounce

  of civet, good apothecary, sweeten my imagination.

  There’s money for thee.

  GLOUCESTER

  O, let me kiss that hand!

  LEAR Let me wipe it first; it smells of mortality.

  GLOUCESTER

  O ruined piece of nature! This great world

  Shall so wear out to naught. Dost thou know me?


  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.

  GLOUCESTER

  Were all thy letters suns, I could not see.

  EDGAR (aside)

  I would not take this from report; it is,

  And my heart breaks at it.

  LEAR (to Gloucester) Read.

  GLOUCESTER What—with the case of eyes?

  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.

  GLOUCESTER 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 yon 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?

  GLOUCESTER Ay, sir.

  LEAR An 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 thy own back.

  Thou hotly lusts to use her in that kind

  For which thou whip‘st her. The usurer hangs the

  cozener.

  Through tattered clothes great vices do appear;

  Robes and furred 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 th’accuser’s lips. Get thee glass eyes,

  And, like a scurvy politician, seem

  To see the things thou dost not. Now, now, now, now!

  Pull off my boots. Harder, harder! So.

  EDGAR (aside)

  O, matter and impertinency mixed—170

  Reason in madness!

  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 waul and cry. I will preach to thee. Mark.

  GLOUCESTER Alack, alack the day!

  LEAR ⌈removing his crown of weeds⌉

  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 180

  A troop of horse with felt. I’ll put’t in proof,

  And when I have stol’n upon these son-in-laws,