260

Edg. Sit you down, father; rest you. Let's see these pockets: the letters that he speaks of

May be my friends. He's dead; I am only sorry He had no other death's-man. Let us see: Leave, gentle wax; and, manners, blame us not: To know our enemies' minds, we'ld rip their hearts;

Their papers, is more lawful.

[Reads] 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-
'Affectionate servant,
'GONERIL.'

Far off, methinks, I hear the beaten drum: Come, father, I'll bestow you with a friend.

[Exeunt

SCENE VII. A tent in the French camp. LEAR on a bed asleep, soft music playing; Gentleman, and others attending.

Enter CORDELIA, Kent, and 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 acknowledged, madam, is o'erpaid.

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;
Yet to be known shortens my made intent:
My boon I make it, that you know me not
Till time and I think meet.

ΙΟ

Cor. Then be't so, my good lord. [To the Doctor] How does the king?

Doct.

Madam, sleeps still. kind gods,,

Cor. O you

Cure this great breach in his abused nature! The untuned and jarring senses, O, wind up Of this child-changed father!

Doct.

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 Gent. Ay, madam; in the heaviness of his sleep

We put fresh garments on him.

I

Doct. Be by, good madam, when we do awake

Doct. Please you, draw near. Louder the music there!

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!
Cor. Had you not been their father, these
white flakes

30

Had challenged pity of them. Was this a face
To be opposed against the warring winds?
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, Though he had bit me, should have stood that night

40

Against my fire; and wast thou fain, poor father, To hovel thee with swine, and rogues forlorn, In short and musty straw? Alack, alack! 'Tis wonder that thy life and wits at once Had not concluded all. He wakes; speak to him.

Doct. Madam, do you; 'tis fittest.

Cor. And hold your hands in benediction o'er me: No, sir, you must not kneel.

Lear

60

Pray, do not mock me:
I am a very foolish fond old man,
Fourscore and upward, not an hour more nor less;
And, to deal plainly,

I fear I am not in my perfect mind.
Methinks I should know you, and know this man;
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;

For, as I am a man, I think this lady
To be my child Cordelia.

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.
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.
Leur. Am I in France?
Kent.

No cause, no cause.

In your own kingdom, sir.

Lear. Do not abuse me.
Doct. 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.
Desire him to go in; trouble him no more
Till further settling.

80

Cor. Will't please your highness walk?
Lear.
You must bear with me:

Pray you now, forget and forgive: I am old and foolish.

[Exeunt all but Kent and Gentleman. Gent. Holds it true, sir, that the Duke of Cornwall was so slain?

SCENE I. The British camp, near Dover.
Enter, with drum and colours, EDMUND,
REGAN, Gentlemen, and Soldiers.
Edm. Know of the duke if his last purpose
hold,

Or whether since he is advised by aught
To change the course: he's full of alteration
And self-reproving: bring his constant pleasure.
[To a Gentleman, who
goes out.
Reg.
Our sister's man is certainly miscarried.
Edm. 'Tis to be doubted, madam.
Reg.

Now, sweet lord,
You know the goodness I intend upon you:
Tell me-but truly-but then speak the truth,
you not love my sister?
Edm.

Do

In honour'd love.

She and the duke her husband!

Enter, with drum and colours, ALBANY,
GONERIL, and Soldiers.

Gon.

[Aside] I had rather lose the battle than that sister

Should loosen him and me.

20

Alb. Our very loving sister, well be-met. Sir, this I hear; the king is come to his daughter, With others whom the rigour of our state Forced to cry out. Where I could not be honest, I never yet was valiant: for this business, It toucheth us, as France invades our land, Not bolds the king, with others, whom, I fear, Most just and heavy causes make oppose. Edm. Sir, you speak nobly. Reg. Why is this reason'd? Gon. Combine together 'gainst the enemy; For these domestic and particular broils Are not the question here.

Alb.

30

Let's then determine With the ancient of war on our proceedings. Edm. I shall attend you presently at your tent. Sister, you'll go with us?

Reg.

Gon.

No.

Reg.

'Tis most convenient; pray you, go with us.

Gon. [Aside] O, ho, I know the riddle.-I will go. As they are going out, enter EDGAR disguised. Edg. If e'er your grace had speech with man so poor,

40

If you have victory, let the trumpet sound
For him that brought it: wretched though I seem,
I can produce a champion that will prove
What is avouched there. If you miscarry,
Your business of the world hath so an end,
And machination ceases. Fortune love you!
Alb. Stay till I have read the letter.
Edg.
I was forbid it.
When time shall serve, let but the herald cry,
And I'll appear again.

Alb. Why, fare thee well: I will o'erlook thy [Exit Edgar. 50

paper.

Re-enter Edmund.

Edm. The enemy's in view; draw up your powers.

Here is the guess of their true strength and forces
By diligent discovery; but your haste
Is now urged on you.

Alb.
We will greet the time. [Exit.
Edm. To both these sisters have I sworn my
love;

Each jealous of the other, as the stung

Are of the adder. Which of them shall I take? Both? one? or neither? Neither can be enjoy'd,

60

If both remain alive: to take the widow
Exasperates, makes mad her sister Goneril;
And hardly shall I carry out my side,
Her husband being alive. Now then we'll use
His countenance for the battle; which being done,
Let her who would be rid of him devise

His speedy taking off. As for the mercy
Which he intends to Lear and to Cordelia,
The battle done, and they within our power,
Shall never see his pardon; for my state
Stands on me to defend, not to debate. [Exit. 69

Until their greater pleasures first be known
That are to censure them.
Cor.

We are not the first Who, with best meaning, have incurr'd the worst. For thee, oppressed king, am I cast down; Myself could else out-frown false fortune's frown. Shall we not see these daughters and these sisters? Lear. No, no, no, no! Come, let's away to prison:

II

We two alone will sing like birds i'the cage:
When thou dost ask me blessing, I'll kneel down,
And ask of thee forgiveness: so we'll live,
And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh
At gilded butterflies, and hear poor rogues
Talk of court news; and we'll talk with them too,
Who loses and who wins; who's in, who's out;
And take upon's the mystery of things,

As if we were God's spies: and we'll wear out,
In a wall'd prison, packs and sects of great ones,
That ebb and flow by the moon.
Edm.
Take them away.
Lear. Upon such sacrifices, my Cordelia, 20
The gods themselves throw incense.

caught thee?

Have I

He that parts us shall bring a brand from heaven,
And fire us hence like foxes. Wipe thine eyes;
The good-years shall devour them, flesh and fell,
Ere they shall make us weep: we'll see 'em starve
first.

Come. [Exeunt Lear and Cordelia, guarded.
Edm. Come hither, captain; hark.
Take thou this note [giving a paper]; go follow
them to prison:

One step I have advanced thee; if thou dost
As this instructs thee, thou dost make thy way
Are as the time is: to be tender-minded
To noble fortunes: know thou this, that men 30

Does not become a sword: thy great employment
Will not bear question; either say thou'lt do 't,
Or thrive by other means.
Capt.
I'll do't, my
lord.
Edm. About it; and write happy when thou

hast done.

Where they shall rest for ever.
[Alarums. They fight.
Alb. Save him, save him!
Gon.

Trumpets, speak! Edmund falls. This is practice, Gloucester: 151 By the law of arms thou wast not bound to answer An unknown opposite; thou art not vanquish'd, But cozen'd and beguiled. Alb. Shut your mouth, dame, Or with this paper shall I stop it: Hold, sir: Thou worse than any name, read thine own evil: No tearing, lady; I perceive you know it. [Gives the letter to Edmund. Gon. Say, if I do, the laws are mine, not thine: Who can arraign me for't? Alb. Most monstrous! oh! 159 Know'st thou this paper? Gon. Ask me not what I know. [Exit. Alb. Goafter her: she's desperate; govern her. Edm. What you have charged me with, that have I done;

And more, much more; the time will bring it out: 'Tis past, and so am I. But what art thou

That hast this fortune on me? If thou'rt noble,
I do forgive thee.
Edg.

Let's exchange charity.

I am no less in blood than thou art, Edmund;
If more, the more thou hast wrong'd me.
My name is Edgar, and thy father's son.
The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices
Make instruments to plague us:

The dark and vicious place where thee he got
Cost him his eyes.

Edm.

170

Thou hast spoken right, 'tis true; The wheel is come full circle; I am here.

Alb. Methought thy very gait did prophesy A royal nobleness: I must embrace thee: Let sorrow split my heart, if ever I Did hate thee or thy father!

Edg.
Worthy prince, I know't.
Alb. Where have you hid yourself? 179
How have you known the miseries of your father?
Edg. By nursing them, my lord. List a brief
tale;

And when 'tis told, O, that my heart would burst!
The bloody proclamation to escape,
That follow'd me so near,-O, our lives' sweetness!
That we the pain of death would hourly die
Rather than die at once!-taught me to shift
Into a madman's rags; to assume a semblance
That very dogs disdain'd: and in this habit
Met I my father with his bleeding rings, 189
Their precious stones new lost; became his guide,
Led him, begg'd for him, saved him from despair;
Never,-O fault!-reveal'd myself unto him,
Until some half-hour past, when I was arm'd:
Not sure, though hoping, of this good success,
I ask'd his blessing, and from first to last
Told him my pilgrimage: but his flaw'd heart,
Alack, too weak the conflict to support!
'Twixt two extremes of passion, joy and grief,
Burst smilingly.

Edm. This speech of yours hath moved me,
And shall perchance do good: but speak you on;
You look as you had something more to say. 201
Alb. If there be more, more woeful, hold it in;
For I am almost ready to dissolve,
Hearing of this.
Edg. This would have seem'd a period
To such as love not sorrow; but another,

To amplify too much, would make much more, And top extremity.

209

Whilst I was big in clamour came there in a man,
Who, having seen me in my worst estate,
Shunn'd my abhorr'd society; but then, finding
Who 'twas that so endured, with his strong arms
He fasten'd on my neck, and bellow'd out
As he'ld burst heaven; threw him on my father;
Told the most piteous tale of Lear and him
That ever ear received: which in recounting
His grief grew puissant, and the strings of life
Began to crack: twice then the trumpets sounded,
And there I left him tranced.
Alb.
But who was this?
Edg. Kent, sir, the banish'd Kent; who in
disguise

Follow'd his enemy king, and did him service 220
Improper for a slave.

Enter a Gentleman, with a bloody knife.