King Lear - William Shakespeare (electronic reader txt) š
- Author: William Shakespeare
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Be simple-answerād, for we know the truth.
Corn.
And what confederacy have you with the traitors
Late footed in the kingdom?
Reg.
To whose hands have you sent the lunatic king?
Speak.
Glou.
I have a letter guessingly set down,
Which came from one thatās of a neutral heart,
And not from one opposād.
Corn.
Cunning.
Reg.
And false.
Corn.
Where hast thou sent the king?
Glou.
To Dover.
Reg.
Wherefore to Dover? Wast thou not chargād at peril,ā
Corn.
Wherefore to Dover? Let him first answer that.
Glou.
I am tied to the stake, and I must stand the course.
Reg.
Wherefore to Dover, sir?
Glou.
Because I would not see thy cruel nails
Pluck out his poor old eyes; nor thy fierce sister
In his anointed flesh stick boarish fangs.
The sea, with such a storm as his bare head
In hell-black night endurād, would have buoyād up,
And quenchād the stelled fires; yet, poor old heart,
He holp the heavens to rain.
If wolves had at thy gate howlād that stern time,
Thou shouldst have said, āGood porter, turn the key.ā
All cruels else subscribād:ābut I shall see
The winged vengeance overtake such children.
Corn.
Seeāt shalt thou never.āFellows, hold the chair.
Upon these eyes of thine Iāll set my foot.
[Gloster is held down in his chair, while Cornwall plucks out one
of his eyes and sets his foot on it.]
Glou.
He that will think to live till he be old,
Give me some help!āO cruel!āO ye gods!
Reg.
One side will mock another; the other too!
Corn.
If you see vengeance,ā
First Serv.
Hold your hand, my lord:
I have servād you ever since I was a child;
But better service have I never done you
Than now to bid you hold.
Reg.
How now, you dog!
First Serv.
If you did wear a beard upon your chin,
Iād shake it on this quarrel. What do you mean?
Corn.
My villain!
[Draws, and runs at him.]
First Serv.
Nay, then, come on, and take the chance of anger.
[Draws. They fight. Cornwall is wounded.]
Reg.
Give me thy sword [to another servant.]āA peasant stand up thus?
[Snatches a sword, comes behind, and stabs him.]
First Serv.
O, I am slain!āMy lord, you have one eye left
To see some mischief on thim. O!
[Dies.]
Corn.
Lest it see more, prevent it.āOut, vile jelly!
Where is thy lustre now?
[Tears out Glosterās other eye and throws it on the ground.]
Glou.
All dark and comfortless.āWhereās my son Edmund?
Edmund, enkindle all the sparks of nature
To quit this horrid act.
Reg.
Out, treacherous villain!
Thou callāst on him that hates thee: it was he
That made the overture of thy treasons to us;
Who is too good to pity thee.
Glou.
O my follies! Then Edgar was abusād.ā
Kind gods, forgive me that, and prosper him!
Reg.
Go thrust him out at gates, and let him smell
His way to Dover.āHow isāt, my lord? How look you?
Corn.
I have receivād a hurt:āfollow me, lady.ā
Turn out that eyeless villain;āthrow this slave
Upon the dunghill.āRegan, I bleed apace:
Untimely comes this hurt: give me your arm.
[Exit Cornwall, led by Regan; Servants unbind Gloster and lead
him out.]
Second Serv.
Iāll never care what wickedness I do,
If this man come to good.
Third Serv.
If she live long,
And in the end meet the old course of death,
Women will all turn monsters.
Second Serv.
Letās follow the old earl, and get the Bedlam
To lead him where he would: his roguish madness
Allows itself to anything.
Third Serv.
Go thou: Iāll fetch some flax and whites of eggs
To apply to his bleeding face. Now heaven help him!
[Exeunt severally.]
ACT IV.
Scene I. The heath.
[Enter Edgar.]
Edg.
Yet better thus, and known to be contemnād,
Than still contemnād and flatterād. To be worst,
The lowest 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. Welcome, then,
Thou unsubstantial air that I embrace!
The wretch that thou hast blown unto the worst
Owes nothing to thy blasts.āBut who comes here?
[Enter Gloster, led by an Old Man.]
My father, poorly led?āWorld, world, O world!
But that thy strange mutations make us hate thee,
Life would not yield to age.
Old Man.
O my good lord,
I have been your tenant, and your fatherās tenant,
These fourscore years.
Glou.
Away, get thee away; good friend, be gone:
Thy comforts can do me no good at all;
Thee they may hurt.
Old Man.
You cannot see your way.
Glou.
I have no way, and therefore want no eyes;
I stumbled when I saw: full oft ātis seen
Our means secure us, and our mere defects
Prove our commodities.āO dear son Edgar,
The food of thy abused fatherās wrath!
Might I but live to see thee in my touch,
Iād say I had eyes again!
Old Man.
How now! Whoās there?
Edg.
[Aside.] O gods! Who isāt can say āI am at the worstā?
I am worse than eāer I was.
Old Man.
āTis poor mad Tom.
Edg.
[Aside.] And worse I may be yet. The worst is not
So long as we can say āThis is the worst.ā
Old Man.
Fellow, where goest?
Glou.
Is it a beggar-man?
Old Man.
Madman and beggar too.
Glou.
He has some reason, else he could not beg.
Iā the last nightās 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 the gods,ā
They kill us for their sport.
Edg.
[Aside.] How should this be?ā
Bad is the trade that must play fool to sorrow,
Angering itself and others.āBless thee, master!
Glou.
Is that the naked fellow?
Old Man.
Ay, my lord.
Glou.
Then prāythee get thee gone: if for my sake
Thou wilt oāertake us, hence a mile or twain,
Iā the way toward Dover, do it for ancient love;
And bring some covering for this naked soul,
Which Iāll entreat to lead me.
Old Man.
Alack, sir, he is mad.
Glou.
āTis the timeās plague when madmen lead the blind.
Do as I bid thee, or rather do thy pleasure;
Above the rest, be gone.
Old Man.
Iāll bring him the best āparel that I have,
Come onāt what will.
[Exit.]
Glou.
Sirrah naked fellow,ā
Edg.
Poor Tomās a-cold.
[Aside.] I cannot daub it further.
Glou.
Come hither, fellow.
Edg.
[Aside.] And yet I must.āBless thy sweet eyes, they bleed.
Glou.
Knowāst thou the way to Dover?
Edg.
Both stile and gate, horseway and footpath. Poor Tom hath been
scared out of his good wits:ābless thee, good manās son, from
the foul fiend! Five fiends have been in poor Tom at once; of
lust, as Obidicut; Hobbididence, prince of dumbness; Mahu, of
stealing; Modo, of murder; Flibbertigibbet, of mopping and
mowing,āwho since possesses chambermaids and waiting women. So,
bless thee, master!
Glou.
Here, take this purse, thou whom the heavensā plagues
Have humbled to all strokes: that I am wretched
Makes thee the happier;āheavens, deal so still!
Let the superfluous and lust-dieted man,
That slaves 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.āDost thou know Dover?
Edg.
Ay, master.
Glou.
There is a cliff, whose high and bending head
Looks fearfully in the confined deep:
Bring me but to the very brim of it,
And Iāll 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 II. Before the Duke of Albanyās Palace.
[Enter Goneril and Edmund; Oswald meeting them.]
Gon.
Welcome, my lord: I marvel our mild husband
Not met us on the way.āNow, whereās your master?
Osw.
Madam, within; but never man so changād.
I told him of the army that was landed;
He smilād at it: I told him you were coming;
His answer was, āThe worseā: Of Glosterās treachery
And of the loyal service of his son
When I informād him, then he callād me sot
And told me I had turnād the wrong side out:ā
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,
That dares not undertake: heāll 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 husbandās hands. This trusty servant
Shall pass between us; ere long you are like to hear,
If you dare venture in your own behalf,
A mistressās command. [Giving a favour.]
Wear this; spare speech;
Decline your head: this kiss, if it durst speak,
Would stretch thy spirits up into the air:ā
Conceive, and fare thee well.
Edm.
Yours in the ranks of death!
[Exit Edmund.]
Gon.
My most dear Gloster.
O, the difference of man and man!
To thee a womanās services are due:
My fool usurps my body.
Osw.
Madam, here comes my lord.
[Exit.]
[Enter Albany.]
Gon.
I have been worth the whistle.
Alb.
O Goneril!
You are not worth the dust which the rude wind
Blows in your face! I fear your disposition:
That nature which contemns it origin
Cannot be bordered certain in itself;
She that herself will sliver and disbranch
From her material sap, perforce must wither
And come to deadly use.
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 performād?
A father, and a gracious aged man,
Whose reverence even the head-luggād bear would lick,
Most barbarous, most degenerate, have you madded.
Could my good brother suffer you to do it?
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,
Humanity must perforce prey on itself,
Like monsters of the deep.
Gon.
Milk-liverād man!
That bearāst a cheek for blows, a head for wrongs;
Who hast not in thy brows an eye discerning
Thine honour from thy suffering; that not knowāst
Fools do those villains pity who are punishād
Ere they have done their mischief. Whereās thy drum?
France spreads his banners in our noiseless land;
With plumed helm thy slayer begins threats;
Whiles thou, a moral fool, sittāst still, and criest
āAlack, why does he so?ā
Alb.
See thyself, devil!
Proper deformity seems not in the fiend
So horrid as in woman.
Gon.
O vain fool!
Alb.
Thou changed and self-coverād thing, for shame!
Be-monster not thy feature! Wereāt my fitness
To let these hands obey my blood.
They are apt enough to dislocate and tear
Thy flesh and bones:āhoweāer thou art a fiend,
A womanās shape doth shield thee.
Gon.
Marry, your manhood now!
[Enter a Messenger.]
Alb.
What news?
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