 | The Tragedie of King Lear |  |
Actus Quartus.
Scena Prima.
Enter Edgar.Edg.
Yet better thus, and knowne to be contemn'd,
Then still contemn'd and flatter'd, to be worst:
The lowest, and most deiected thing of Fortune,
Stands still in esperance, liues not in feare:
The lamentable change is from the best,
The worst returnes to laughter. Welcome then,
Thou vnsubstantiall ayre that I embrace:
The Wretch that thou hast blowne vnto the worst,
Owes nothing to thy blasts.
Enter Glouster, and an Oldman.
But who comes heere? My Father poorely led?
World, World, O world!
But that thy strange mutations make vs hate thee,
Life would not yeelde to age.
Oldm.
O my good Lord, I haue bene your Tenant,
And your Fathers Tenant, these fourescore yeares.
Glou.
Away, get thee away: good Friend be gone,
Thy comforts can do me no good at all,
Thee, they may hurt.
Oldm.
You cannot see your way.
Glou.
I haue no way, and therefore want no eyes:
I stumbled when I saw. Full oft 'tis seene,
Our meanes secure vs, and our meere defects
Proue our Commodities. Oh deere Sonne Edgar,
The food of thy abused Fathers wrath:
Might I but liue to see thee in my touch,
I'ld say I had eyes againe.
Oldm.
How now? who's there?
Edg.
O Gods! Who is't can say I am at the worst?
I am worse then ere I was.
Old.
'Tis poore mad Tom.
Edg.
And worse I may be yet: the worst is not,
So long as we can say this is the worst.
Oldm.
Fellow, where goest?
Glou.
Is it a Beggar-man?
Oldm.
Madman, and beggar too.
Glou.
He has some reason, else he could not beg.
I'th'last nights storme, I such a fellow saw;
Which made me thinke a Man, a Worme. My Sonne
Came then into my minde, and yet my minde
Was then scarse Friends with him.
I haue heard more since:
As Flies to wanton Boyes, are we to th'Gods,
They kill vs for their sport.
Edg.
How should this be?
Bad is the Trade that must play Foole to sorrow,
Ang'ring it selfe, and others. Blesse thee Master.
Glou.
Is that the naked Fellow?
Oldm.
I, my Lord.
Glou.
Get thee away: If for my sake
Thou wilt ore-take vs hence a mile or twaine
I'th'way toward Douer, do it for ancient loue,
And bring some couering for this naked Soule,
Which Ile intreate to leade me.
Old.
Alacke sir, he is mad.
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'Tis the times plague,
When Madmen leade the blinde:
Do as I bid thee, or rather do thy pleasure:
Aboue the rest, be gone.
Oldm.
Ile bring him the best Parrell that I haue
Come on't what will.
Exit
Glou.
Sirrah, naked fellow.
Edg.
Poore Tom's a cold. I cannot daub it further.
Glou.
Come hither fellow.
Edg.
And yet I must:
Blesse thy sweete eyes, they bleede.
Glou.
Know'st thou the way to Douer?
Edg.
Both style, and gate; Horseway, and foot-path:
poore Tom hath bin scarr'd out of his good wits. Blesse
thee good mans sonne, from the foule Fiend.
Glou.
Here take this purse, yu whom the heau'ns plagues
Haue humbled to all strokes: that I am wretched
Makes thee the happier: Heauens deale so still:
Let the superfluous, and Lust-dieted man,
That slaues your ordinance, that will not see
Because he do's not feele, feele your powre quickly:
So distribution should vndoo excesse,
And each man haue enough. Dost thou know Douer?
Edg.
I Master.
Glou.
There is a Cliffe, whose high and bending head
Lookes fearfully in the confined Deepe:
Bring me but to the very brimme of it,
And Ile repayre the misery thou do'st beare
With something rich about me: from that place,
I shall no leading neede.
Edg.
Giue me thy arme;
Poore Tom shall leade thee.
Exeunt.
Scena Secunda.
Enter Gonerill, Bastard, and Steward.Gon.
Welcome my Lord. I meruell our mild husband
Not met vs on the way. Now, where's your Master?
Stew.
Madam within, but neuer man so chang'd:
I told him of the Army that was Landed:
He smil'd at it. I told him you were comming,
His answer was, the worse. Of Glosters Treachery,
And of the loyall Seruice of his Sonne
When I inform'd him, then he call'd me Sot,
And told me I had turn'd the wrong side out:
What most he should dislike, seemes pleasant to him;
What like, offensiue.
Gon.
Then shall you go no further.
It is the Cowish terror of his spirit
That dares not vndertake: Hee'l not feele wrongs
Which tye him to an answer: our wishes on the way
May proue effects. Backe Edmond to my Brother,
Hasten his Musters, and conduct his powres.
I must change names at home, and giue the Distaffe
Into my Husbands hands. This trustie Seruant
Shall passe betweene vs: ere long you are like to heare
(If you dare venture in your owne behalfe)
A Mistresses command. Weare this; spare speech,
Decline your head. This kisse, if it durst speake
Would stretch thy Spirits vp into the ayre:
Conceiue, and fare thee well.
Bast.
Yours in the rankes of death.
Exit.
Gon.
My most deere Gloster.
Oh, the difference of man, and man,
To thee a Womans seruices are due,
My Foole vsurpes my body.
Stew.
Madam, here come's my Lord.
Enter Albany.
Gon.
I haue beene worth the whistle.
Alb.
Oh Gonerill,
You are not worth the dust which the rude winde
Blowes in your face.
Gon.
Milke-Liuer'd man,
That bear'st a cheeke for blowes, a head for wrongs,
Who hast not in thy browes an eye-discerning
Thine Honor, from thy suffering.
Alb.
See thy selfe diuell:
Proper deformitie seemes not in the Fiend
So horrid as in woman.
Gon.
Oh vaine Foole.
Enter a Messenger.
Mes.
Oh my good Lord, the Duke of Cornwals dead,
Slaine by his Seruant, going to put out
The other eye of Glouster.
Alb.
Glousters eyes.
Mes.
A Seruant that he bred, thrill'd with remorse,
Oppos'd against the act: bending his Sword
To his great Master, who, threat-enrag'd
Flew on him, and among'st them fell'd him dead,
But not without that harmefull stroke, which since
Hath pluckt him after.
Alb.
This shewes you are aboue
You Iustices, that these our neather crimes
So speedily can venge. But (O poore Glouster)
Lost he his other eye?
Mes.
Both, both, my Lord.
This Leter Madam, craues a speedy answer:
'Tis from your Sister.
Gon.
One way I like this well,
But being widdow, and my Glouster with her,
May all the building in my fancie plucke
Vpon my hatefull life. Another way
The Newes is not so tart. Ile read, and answer.
Alb.
Where was his Sonne,
When they did take his eyes?
Mes.
Come with my Lady hither.
Alb.
He is not heere.
Mes.
No my good Lord, I met him backe againe.
Alb.
Knowes he the wickednesse?
Mes.
I my good Lord: 'twas he inform'd against him
And quit the house on purpose, that their punishment
Might haue the freer course.
Alb.
Glouster, I liue
To thanke thee for the loue thou shew'dst the King,
And to reuenge thine eyes. Come hither Friend,
Tell me what more thou know'st.
Exeunt.
Scena Tertia.
Enter with Drum and Colours, Cordelia, Gentlemen, and Souldiours.Cor.
Alacke, 'tis he: why he was met euen now
As mad as the vext Sea, singing alowd,
Crown'd with ranke Fenitar, and furrow weeds,
With Hardokes, Hemlocke, Nettles, Cuckoo flowres,
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In our sustaining Corne. A Centery send forth;
Search euery Acre in the high-growne field,
And bring him to our eye. What can mans wisedome
In the restoring his bereaued Sense; he that helpes him,
Take all my outward worth.
Gent.
There is meanes Madam:
Our foster Nurse of Nature, is repose,
The which he lackes: that to prouoke in him
Are many Simples operatiue, whose power
Will close the eye of Anguish.
Cord.
All blest Secrets,
All you vnpublish'd Vertues of the earth
Spring with my teares; be aydant, and remediate
In the Goodmans desires: seeke, seeke for him,
Least his vngouern'd rage, dissolue the life
That wants the meanes to leade it.
Enter Messenger.
Mes.
Newes Madam,
The Brittish Powres are marching hitherward.
Cor.
'Tis knowne before. Our preparation stands
In expectation of them. O deere Father,
It is thy businesse that I go about: Therfore great France
My mourning, and importun'd teares hath pittied:
No blowne Ambition doth our Armes incite,
But loue, deere loue, and our ag'd Fathers Rite:
Soone may I heare, and see him.
Exeunt.
Scena Quarta.
Enter Regan, and Steward.Reg.
But are my Brothers Powres set forth?
Stew.
I Madam,
Reg.
Himselfe in person there?
Stew.
Madam with much ado:
Your Sister is the better Souldier.
Reg.
Lord Edmund spake not with your Lord at home?
Stew.
No Madam.
Reg.
What might import my Sisters Letter to him?
Stew.
I know not, Lady.
Reg.
Faith he is poasted hence on serious matter:
It was great ignorance, Glousters eyes being out
To let him liue. Where he arriues, he moues
All hearts against vs: Edmund, I thinke is gone
In pitty of his misery, to dispatch
His nighted life: Moreouer to descry
The strength o'th'Enemy.
Stew.
I must needs after him, Madam, with my Letter.
Reg.
Our troopes set forth to morrow, stay with vs:
The wayes are dangerous.
Stew.
I may not Madam:
My Lady charg'd my dutie in this busines.
Reg.
Why should she write to Edmund?
Might not you transport her purposes by word? Belike,
Some things, I know not what. Ile loue thee much
Let me vnseale the Letter.
Stew.
Madam, I had rather—
Reg.
I know your Lady do's not loue her Husband,
I am sure of that: and at her late being heere,
She gaue strange Eliads, and most speaking lookes
To Noble Edmund. I know you are of her bosome.
Stew.
I, Madam?
Reg.
I speake in vnderstanding: Y'are: I know't,
Therefore I do aduise you take this note:
My Lord is dead: Edmond, and I haue talk'd,
And more conuenient is he for my hand
Then for your Ladies: You may gather more:
If you do finde him, pray you giue him this;
And when your Mistris heares thus much from you,
I pray desire her call her wisedome to her.
So fare you well:
If you do chance to heare of that blinde Traitor,
Preferment fals on him, that cuts him off.
Stew.
Would I could meet Madam, I should shew
What party I do follow.
Reg.
Fare thee well.
Exeunt
Scena Quinta.
Enter Gloucester, and Edgar.Glou.
When shall I come to th'top of that same hill?
Edg.
You do climbe vp it now. Look how we labor.
Glou.
Me thinkes the ground is eeuen.
Edg.
Horrible steepe.
Hearke, do you heare the Sea?
Glou.
No truly.
Edg.
Why then your other Senses grow imperfect
By your eyes anguish.
Glou.
So may it be indeed.
Me thinkes thy voyce is alter'd, and thou speak'st
In better phrase, and matter then thou did'st.
Edg.
Y'are much deceiu'd: In nothing am I chang'd
But in my Garments.
Glou.
Me thinkes y'are better spoken.
Edg.
Come on Sir,
Heere's the place: stand still: how fearefull
And dizie 'tis, to cast ones eyes so low,
The Crowes and Choughes, that wing the midway ayre
Shew scarse so grosse as Beetles. Halfe way downe
Hangs one that gathers Sampire: dreadfull Trade:
Me thinkes he seemes no bigger then his head.
The Fishermen, that walk'd vpon the beach
Appeare like Mice: and yond tall Anchoring Barke,
Diminish'd to her Cocke: her Cocke, a Buoy
Almost too small for sight. The murmuring Surge,
That on th'vnnumbred idle Pebble chafes
Cannot be heard so high. Ile looke no more,
Least my braine turne, and the deficient sight
Topple downe headlong.
Glou
Set me where you stand.
Edg.
Giue me your hand:
You are now within a foote of th'extreme Verge:
For all beneath the Moone would I not leape vpright.
Glou.
Let go my hand:
Heere Friend's another purse: in it, a Iewell
Well worth a poore mans taking. Fayries, and Gods
Prosper it with thee. Go thou further off,
Bid me farewell, and let me heare thee going.
Edg.
Now fare ye well, good Sir.
Glou.
With all my heart.
Edg.
Why I do trifle thus with his dispaire,
Is done to cure it.
Glou.
O you mighty Gods!
This world I do renounce, and in your sights
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If I could beare it longer, and not fall
To quarrell with your great opposelesse willes,
My snuffe, and loathed part of Nature should
Burne it selfe out. If Edgar liue, O blesse him:
Now Fellow, fare thee well.
Edg.
Gone Sir, farewell:
And yet I know not how conceit may rob
The Treasury of life, when life it selfe
Yeelds to the Theft. Had he bin where he thought,
By this had thought bin past. Aliue, or dead?
Hoa, you Sir: Friend, heare you Sir, speake:
Thus might he passe indeed: yet he reuiues.
What are you Sir?
Glou.
Away, and let me dye.
Edg.
Had'st thou beene ought
But Gozemore, Feathers, Ayre,
(So many fathome downe precipitating)
Thou'dst shiuer'd like an Egge: but thou do'st breath:
Hast heauy 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 Myracle. Speake yet againe.
Glou.
But haue I falne, or no?
Edg.
From the dread Somnet of this Chalkie Bourne
Looke vp a height, the shrill-gorg'd Larke so farre
Cannot be seene, or heard: Do but looke vp.
Glou.
Alacke, I haue no eyes:
Is wretchednesse depriu'd that benefit
To end it selfe by death? 'Twas yet some comfort,
When misery could beguile the Tyrants rage,
And frustrate his proud will.
Edg.
Giue me your arme.
Vp, so: How is't? Feele you your Legges? You stand.
Glou.
Too well, too well.
Edg.
This is aboue all strangenesse,
Vpon the crowne o'th'Cliffe. What thing was that
Which parted from you?
Glou.
A poore vnfortunate Beggar.
Edg.
As I stood heere below, me thought his eyes
Were two full Moones: he had a thousand Noses,
Hornes wealk'd, and waued like the enraged Sea:
It was some Fiend: Therefore thou happy Father,
Thinke that the cleerest Gods, who make them Honors
Of mens Impossibilities, haue preserued thee.
Glou.
I do remember now: henceforth Ile beare
Affliction, till it do cry out it selfe
Enough, enough, and dye. That thing you speake of,
I tooke it for a man: often 'twould say
The Fiend, the Fiend, he led me to that place.
Edgar.
Beare free and patient thoughts.
Enter Lear.
But who comes heere?
The safer sense will ne're accommodate
His Master thus.
Lear.
No, they cannot touch me for crying. I am the
King himselfe.
Edg.
O thou side-piercing sight!
Lear.
Nature's aboue Art, in that respect. Ther's your
Presse-money. That fellow handles his bow, like a Crow-keeper:
draw mee a Cloathiers yard. Looke, looke, a
Mouse: peace, peace, this peece of toasted Cheese will
doo't. There's my Gauntlet, Ile proue it on a Gyant.
Bring vp the browne Billes. O well flowne Bird: i'th'
clout, i'th'clout: Hewgh. Giue the word.
Edg.
Sweet Mariorum.
Lear.
Passe.
Glou.
I know that voice.
Lear.
Ha! Gonerill with a white beard? They flatter'd
me like a Dogge, and told mee I had the white hayres in
my Beard, ere the blacke ones were there. To say I, and
no, to euery thing that I said: I, and no too, was no good
Diuinity. When the raine came to wet me once, and the
winde to make me chatter: when the Thunder would not
peace at my bidding, there I found 'em, there I smelt 'em
out. Go too, they are not men o'their words; they told
me, I was euery thing: 'Tis a Lye, I am not Agu-proofe.
Glou.
The tricke of that voyce, I do well remember:
Is't not the King?
Lear.
I, euery inch a King.
When I do stare, see how the Subiect quakes.
I pardon that mans life. What was thy cause?
Adultery? thou shalt not dye: dye for Adultery?
No, the Wren goes too't, and the small gilded Fly
Do's letcher in my sight. Let Copulation thriue:
For Glousters bastard Son was kinder to his Father,
Then my Daughters got 'tweene the lawfull sheets.
Too't Luxury pell-mell, for I lacke Souldiers.
Behold yond simpring Dame, whose face betweene her
Forkes presages Snow; that minces Vertue, & do's shake
the head to heare of pleasures name. The Fitchew, nor
the soyled Horse goes too't with a more riotous appetite:
Downe from the waste they are Centaures, though
Women all aboue: but to the Girdle do the Gods inherit,
beneath is all the Fiends. There's hell, there's darkenes,
there is the sulphurous pit; burning, scalding, stench,
consumption: Fye, fie, fie; pah, pah: Giue me an Ounce
of Ciuet; good Apothecary sweeten my immagination:
There's money for thee.
Glou.
O let me kisse that hand.
Lear.
Let me wipe it first,
It smelles of Mortality.
Glou.
O ruin'd peece of Nature, this great world
Shall so weare out to naught.
Do'st thou know me?
Lear.
I remember thine eyes well enough: dost thou
squiny at me? No, doe thy worst blinde Cupid, Ile not
loue. Reade thou this challenge, marke but the penning
of it.
Glou.
Were all thy Letters Sunnes, I could not see.
Edg.
I would not take this from report,
It is, and my heart breakes at it.
Lear.
Read.
Glou.
What with the Case of eyes?
Lear.
Oh ho, are you there with me? No eies in your
head, nor no mony in your purse? Your eyes are in a heauy
case, your purse in a light, yet you see how this world
goes.
Glou.
I see it feelingly.
Lear.
What, art mad? A man may see how this world
goes, with no eyes. Looke with thine eares: See how
yond Iustice railes vpon yond simple theefe. Hearke in
thine eare: Change places, and handy-dandy, which is
the Iustice, which is the theefe: Thou hast seene a Farmers
dogge barke at a Beggar?
Glou.
I Sir.
Lear.
And the Creature run from the Cur: there thou
might'st behold the great image of Authoritie, a Dogg's
obey'd in Office. Thou, Rascall Beadle, hold thy bloody
hand: why dost thou lash that Whore? Strip thy owne
backe, thou hotly lusts to vse her in that kind, for which
thou whip'st her. The Vsurer hangs the Cozener. Thorough
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and Furr'd gownes hide all. Place sinnes with Gold, and
the strong Lance of Iustice, hurtlesse breakes: Arme it in
ragges, a Pigmies straw do's pierce it. None do's offend,
none, I say none, Ile able 'em; take that of me my Friend,
who haue the power to seale th'accusers lips. Get thee
glasse-eyes, and like a scuruy Politician, seeme to see the
things thou dost not. Now, now, now, now. Pull off my
Bootes: harder, harder, so.
Edg.
O matter, and impertinency mixt,
Reason in Madnesse.
Lear.
If thou wilt weepe my Fortunes, take my eyes.
I know thee well enough, thy name is Glouster:
Thou must be patient; we came crying hither:
Thou know'st, the first time that we smell the Ayre
We wawle, and cry. I will preach to thee: Marke.
Glou.
Alacke, alacke the day.
Lear.
When we are borne, we cry that we are come
To this great stage of Fooles. This a good blocke:
It were a delicate stratagem to shoo
A Troope of Horse with Felt: Ile put't in proofe,
And when I haue stolne vpon these Son in Lawes,
Then kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill.
Enter a Gentleman.
Gent.
Oh heere he is: lay hand vpon him, Sir.
Your most deere Daughter—
Lear.
No rescue? What, a Prisoner? I am euen
The Naturall Foole of Fortune. Vse me well,
You shall haue ransome. Let me haue Surgeons,
I am cut to'th'Braines.
Gent.
You shall haue any thing.
Lear.
No Seconds? All my selfe?
Why, this would make a man, a man of Salt
To vse his eyes for Garden water-pots. I wil die brauely,
Like a smugge Bridegroome. What? I will be Iouiall:
Come, come, I am a King, Masters, know you that?
Gent.
You are a Royall one, and we obey you.
Lear.
Then there's life in't. Come, and you get it,
You shall get it by running: Sa, sa, sa, sa.
Exit.
Gent.
A sight most pittifull in the meanest wretch,
Past speaking of in a King. Thou hast a Daughter
Who redeemes Nature from the generall curse
Which twaine haue brought her to.
Edg.
Haile gentle Sir.
Gent.
Sir, speed you: what's your will?
Edg.
Do you heare ought (Sir) of a Battell toward.
Gent.
Most sure, and vulgar:
Euery one heares that, which can distinguish sound.
Edg.
But by your fauour:
How neere's the other Army?
Gent.
Neere, and on speedy foot: the maine descry
Stands on the hourely thought.
Edg.
I thanke you Sir, that's all.
Gent.
Though that the Queen on special cause is here
Her Army is mou'd on.
Exit.
Edg.
I thanke you Sir.
Glou.
You euer gentle Gods, take my breath from me,
Let not my worser Spirit tempt me againe
To dye before you please.
Edg.
Well pray you Father.
Glou.
Now good sir, what are you?
Edg.
A most poore man, made tame to Fortunes blows
Who, by the Art of knowne, and feeling sorrowes,
Am pregnant to good pitty. Giue me your hand,
Ile leade you to some biding.
Glou.
Heartie thankes:
The bountie, and the benizon of Heauen
To boot, and boot.
Enter Steward.
Stew.
A proclaim'd prize: most happie
That eyelesse head of thine, was first fram'd flesh
To raise my fortunes. Thou old, vnhappy Traitor,
Breefely thy selfe remember: the Sword is out
That must destroy thee.
Glou.
Now let thy friendly hand
Put strength enough too't.
Stew.
Wherefore, bold Pezant,
Dar'st thou support a publish'd Traitor? Hence,
Least that th'infection of his fortune take
Like hold on thee. Let go his arme.
Edg.
Chill not let go Zir,
Without vurther 'casion.
Stew.
Let go Slaue, or thou dy'st.
Edg.
Good Gentleman goe your gate, and let poore
volke passe: and 'chud ha'bin zwaggerd out of my life,
'twould not ha'bin zo long as 'tis, by a vortnight. Nay,
come not neere th'old man: keepe out che vor'ye, or ice
try whither your Costard, or my Ballow be the harder;
chill be plaine with you.
Stew.
Out Dunghill.
Edg.
Chill picke your teeth Zir: come, no matter vor
your foynes.
Stew.
Slaue thou hast slaine me: Villain, take my purse;
If euer thou wilt thriue, bury my bodie,
And giue the Letters which thou find'st about me,
To Edmund Earle of Glouster: seeke him out
Vpon the English party. Oh vntimely death, death.
Edg.
I know thee well. A seruiceable Villaine,
As duteous to the vices of thy Mistris,
As badnesse would desire.
Glou.
What, is he dead?
Edg.
Sit you downe Father: rest you.
Let's see these Pockets; the Letters that he speakes of
May be my Friends: hee's dead; I am onely sorry
He had no other Deathsman. Let vs see:
Leaue gentle waxe, and manners: blame vs not
To know our enemies mindes, we rip their hearts,
Their Papers is more lawfull.
Reads the Letter.
Let
our reciprocall vowes be remembred. You haue manie
opportunities to cut him off: if your will want not, time and
place will be fruitfully offer'd. There is nothing done. If hee
returne the Conqueror, then am I the Prisoner, and his bed my
Gaole, from the loathed warmth whereof, deliuer me, and supply
the place for your Labour.
Your (Wife, so I would say) affectionate
Seruant. Gonerill.
A plot vpon her vertuous Husbands life,
And the exchange my Brother: heere, in the sands
Thee Ile rake vp, the poste vnsanctified
Of murtherous Letchers: and in the mature time,
With this vngracious paper strike the sight
Of the death-practis'd Duke: for him 'tis well,
That of thy death, and businesse, I can tell.
Glou.
The King is mad:
How stiffe is my vilde sense
That I stand vp, and haue ingenious feeling
Of my huge Sorrowes? Better I were distract,
So should my thoughts be seuer'd from my greefes,
Drum afarre off.
And woes, by wrong imaginations loose
305
Edg.
Giue me your hand:
Farre off methinkes I heare the beaten Drumme.
Come Father, Ile bestow you with a Friend.
Exeunt.
Scæna Septima.
Enter Cordelia, Kent, and Gentleman.Cor.
O thou good Kent,
How shall I liue and worke
To match thy goodnesse?
My life will be too short,
And euery measure faile me.
Kent.
To be acknowledg'd Madam is ore-pai'd,
All my reports go with the modest truth,
Nor more, nor clipt, but so.
Cor.
Be better suited,
These weedes are memories of those worser houres:
I prythee put them off.
Kent.
Pardon deere Madam,
Yet to be knowne shortens my made intent,
My boone I make it, that you know me not,
Till time, and I, thinke meet.
Cor.
Then be't so my good Lord:
How do's the King?
Gent.
Madam sleepes still.
Cor.
O you kind Gods!
Cure this great breach in his abused Nature,
Th'vntun'd and iarring senses, O winde vp,
Of this childe-changed Father.
Gent.
So please your Maiesty,
That we may wake the King, he hath slept long?
Cor.
Be gouern'd by your knowledge, and proceede
I'th'sway of your owne will: is he array'd?
Enter Lear in a chaire carried by Seruants
Gent.
I Madam: in the heauinesse of sleepe,
We put fresh garments on him.
Be by good Madam when we do awake him,
I doubt of his Temperance.
Cor.
O my deere Father, restauratian hang
Thy medicine on my lippes, and let this kisse
Repaire those violent harmes, that my two Sisters
Haue in thy Reuerence made.
Kent.
Kind and deere Princesse.
Cor.
Had you not bin their Father, these white flakes
Did challenge pitty of them. Was this a face
To be oppos'd against the iarring windes?
Mine Enemies dogge, though he had bit me,
Should haue stood that night against my fire,
And was't thou faine (poore Father)
To houell thee with Swine and Rogues forlorne,
In short, and musty straw? Alacke, alacke,
'Tis wonder that thy life and wits, at once
Had not concluded all. He wakes, speake to him.
Gen.
Madam do you, 'tis fittest.
Cor.
How does my Royall Lord?
How fares your Maiesty?
Lear.
You do me wrong to take me out o'th'graue,
Thou art a Soule in blisse, but I am bound
Vpon a wheele of fire, that mine owne teares
Do scal'd, like molten Lead.
Cor.
Sir, do you know me?
Lear.
You are a spirit I know, where did you dye?
Cor.
Still, still, farre wide.
Gen.
He's scarse awake,
Let him alone a while.
Lear.
Where haue I bin?
Where am I? Faire day light?
I am mightily abus'd; I should eu'n dye with pitty
To see another thus. I know not what to say:
I will not sweare these are my hands: let's see,
I feele this pin pricke, would I were assur'd
Of my condition.
Cor.
O looke vpon me Sir,
And hold your hand in benediction o're me,
You must not kneele.
Lear.
Pray do not mocke me:
I am a very foolish fond old man,
Fourescore and vpward,
Not an houre more, nor lesse:
And to deale plainely,
I feare I am not in my perfect mind.
Me thinkes I should know you, and know this man,
Yet I am doubtfull: For I am mainely ignorant
What place this is: and all the skill I haue
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 thinke this Lady
To be my childe Cordelia.
Cor.
And so I am: I am.
Lear.
Be your teares wet?
Yes faith: I pray weepe not,
If you haue poyson for me, I will drinke it:
I know you do not loue me, for your Sisters
Haue (as I do remember) done me wrong.
You haue some cause, they haue not.
Cor.
No cause, no cause.
Lear.
Am I in France?
Kent.
In your owne kingdome Sir.
Lear.
Do not abuse me.
Gent.
Be comforted good Madam, the great rage
You see is kill'd in him: desire him to go in,
Trouble him no more till further setling.
Cor.
Wilt please your Highnesse walke?
Lear.
You must beare with me:
Pray you now forget, and forgiue,
I am old and foolish.
Exeunt
| The Tragedie of King Lear | |