Complete Plays, The

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Complete Plays, The Page 106

by William Shakespeare


  Opposed against the act, bending his sword

  To his great master; who, thereat enraged,

  Flew on him, and amongst them fell’d him dead;

  But not without that harmful stroke, which since

  Hath pluck’d 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.

  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

  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 inform’d 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 show’dst the king,

  And to revenge thine eyes. Come hither, friend:

  Tell me what more thou know’st.

  Exeunt

  SCENE III. 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?

  Gentleman

  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.

  Kent

  Who hath he left behind him general?

  Gentleman

  The Marshal of France, Monsieur La Far.

  Kent

  Did your letters pierce the queen to any demonstration of grief?

  Gentleman

  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,

  Sought to be king o’er her.

  Kent

  O, then it moved her.

  Gentleman

  Not to a rage: patience and sorrow strove

  Who should express her goodliest. You have seen

  Sunshine and rain at once: her smiles and tears

  Were like a better way: those happy smilets,

  That play’d on her ripe lip, seem’d not to know

  What guests were in her eyes; which parted thence,

  As pearls from diamonds dropp’d. In brief,

  Sorrow would be a rarity most beloved,

  If all could so become it.

  Kent

  Made she no verbal question?

  Gentleman

  ’Faith, once or twice she heaved the name of ‘father’

  Pantingly forth, as if it press’d her heart:

  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,

  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 mate could not beget

  Such different issues. You spoke not with her since?

  Gentleman

  No.

  Kent

  Was this before the king return’d?

  Gentleman

  No, since.

  Kent

  Well, sir, the poor distressed Lear’s i’ the town;

  Who sometime, in his better tune, remembers

  What we are come about, and by no means

  Will yield to see his daughter.

  Gentleman

  Why, good sir?

  Kent

  A sovereign shame so elbows him: his own unkindness,

  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.

  Gentleman

  Alack, poor gentleman!

  Kent

  Of Albany’s and Cornwall’s powers you heard not?

  Gentleman

  ’Tis so, they are afoot.

  Kent

  Well, sir, I’ll bring you to our master Lear,

  And leave you to attend him: some dear cause

  Will in concealment wrap me up awhile;

  When I am known aright, you shall not grieve

  Lending me this acquaintance. I pray you, go

  Along with me.

  Exeunt

  SCENE IV. THE SAME. A TENT.

  Enter, with drum and colours, Cordelia, Doctor, and Soldiers

  Cordelia

  Alack, ’tis he: why, he was met even now

  As mad as the vex’d sea; singing aloud;

  Crown’d with rank fumiter and furrow-weeds,

  With bur-docks, 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 an Officer

  What can man’s wisdom

  In the restoring his bereaved sense?

  He that helps him take all my outward worth.

  Doctor

  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 unpublish’d virtues of the earth,

  Spring with my tears! be aidant and remediate

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

  Lest his ungovern’d rage dissolve the life

  That wants the means to lead it.

  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 important 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

  SCENE V. GLOUCESTER’S CASTLE.

  Enter Regan and Oswald

  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 Edmund spake not with your lord at home?

  Oswald

  No, madam.

  Regan

  What might import my siste
r’s letter 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: Edmund, I think, is gone,

  In pity of his misery, to dispatch

  His nighted life: moreover, to descry

  The strength o’ the enemy.

  Oswald

  I must needs after him, madam, with my letter.

  Regan

  Our troops set forth to-morrow: 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 Edmund? Might not you

  Transport her purposes by word? Belike,

  Something — 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 Edmund. I know you are of her bosom.

  Oswald

  I, madam?

  Regan

  I speak in understanding; you are; I know’t:

  Therefore I do advise you, take this note:

  My lord is dead; Edmund and I have talk’d;

  And more convenient is he for my hand

  Than for your lady’s: you may gather more.

  If you do find him, pray you, give him this;

  And when your mistress hears thus much from you,

  I pray, desire her call her wisdom to her.

  So, fare you well.

  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

  SCENE VI. FIELDS NEAR DOVER.

  Enter Gloucester, and Edgar dressed like a peasant

  Gloucester

  When shall we come to the 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 alter’d; 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: half way down

  Hangs one that gathers samphire, dreadful trade!

  Methinks he seems no bigger than his head:

  The fishermen, that walk upon the beach,

  Appear like mice; and yond tall anchoring bark,

  Diminish’d to her cock; her cock, a buoy

  Almost too small for sight: the murmuring surge,

  That on the unnumber’d idle pebbles 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 the 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 farther off;

  Bid me farewell, and let me hear thee going.

  Edgar

  Now fare you well, good sir.

  Gloucester

  With all my heart.

  Edgar

  Why I do trifle thus with his despair

  Is done to cure it.

  Gloucester

  [Kneeling] 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.

  He falls forward

  Edgar

  Gone, sir: farewell.

  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?

  Ho, you sir! friend! Hear you, sir! speak!

  Thus might he pass indeed: yet he revives.

  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 shiver’d like an egg: but thou dost breathe;

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

  Ten masts at each make not the altitude

  Which thou hast perpendicularly fell:

  Thy life’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’ the cliff, what thing was that

  Which parted from you?

  Gloucester

  A poor unfortunate beggar.

  Edgar

  As I stood here below, methought his eyes

  Were two full moons; he had a thousand noses,

  Horns whelk’d and waved like the enridged 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. But who comes here?

  Enter King Lear, fantastically dressed with wild flowers

  The safer sense
will ne’er accommodate

  His master thus.

  King Lear

  No, they cannot touch me for coining; I am the king himself.

  Edgar

  O thou side-piercing sight!

  King 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.

  Edgar

  Sweet marjoram.

  King Lear

  Pass.

  Gloucester

  I know that voice.

  King Lear

  Ha! Goneril, with a white beard! They flattered me like a dog; and told me I had white hairs in my beard ere the black ones were there. To say ‘ay’ and ‘no’ to every thing that I said!—‘Ay’ and ‘no’ too 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 every thing; ’tis a lie, I am not ague-proof.

  Gloucester

  The trick of that voice I do well remember:

  Is ’t not the king?

  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? 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 yond simpering dame,

  Whose face between her forks presages snow;

  That minces virtue, and does shake the head

  To hear of pleasure’s name;

  The fitchew, nor the soiled horse, goes to ’t

  With a more riotous appetite.

  Down from the waist they are Centaurs,

  Though women all above:

  But to the girdle do the gods inherit,

  Beneath is all the fiends’;

  There’s hell, there’s darkness, there’s the sulphurous pit,

  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.

  Gloucester

  O, let me kiss that hand!

  King Lear

  Let me wipe it first; it smells of mortality.

  Gloucester

  O ruin’d piece of nature! This great world

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

  King 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.

 

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