King lear, p.7
King Lear, page 7
Of any trust, virtue, or worth in thee
Make thy words faithed75? No: what should I deny —
As this I would, though thou didst produce
My very character77 — I’d turn it all
To thy suggestion, plot, and damnèd practice78,
And thou must make a dullard of the world79,
If they not thought the profits80 of my death
Were very pregnant and potential spirits81
Tucket within
To make thee seek it.’
GLOUCESTER O, strange and fastened83 villain!
Would he deny his letter, said he?
Hark, the duke’s trumpets! I know not where85 he comes.
All ports86 I’ll bar: the villain shall not scape:
The duke must grant me that. Besides, his picture87
I will send far and near, that all the kingdom
May have due note of him, and of my land,
Loyal and natural boy, I’ll work the means90
To make thee capable91.
Enter Cornwall, Regan and Attendants
CORNWALL How now, my noble friend? Since I came hither —
Which I can call but now — I have heard strangeness.
REGAN If it be true, all vengeance comes too short
Which can pursue th’offender. How dost, my lord?
GLOUCESTER O, madam, my old heart is cracked, it’s cracked!
REGAN What, did my father’s godson seek your life?
He whom my father named? Your Edgar?
GLOUCESTER O, lady, lady, shame would have it hid!
REGAN Was he not companion with the riotous knights
That tended upon101 my father?
GLOUCESTER I know not, madam: ’tis too bad, too bad.
EDMUND Yes, madam, he was of that consort103.
REGAN No marvel, then, though he were ill affected104:
’Tis they have put him on105 the old man’s death,
To have th’expense106 and waste of his revenues.
I have this present evening from my sister
Been well informed of them, and with such cautions
That if they come to sojourn at my house,
I’ll not be there.
CORNWALL Nor I, assure thee, Regan.—
Edmund, I hear that you have shown your father
A child-like office113.
EDMUND It was my duty, sir.
To Cornwall
GLOUCESTER He did bewray his practice115 and received
This hurt you see striving to apprehend him.
CORNWALL Is he pursued?
GLOUCESTER Ay, my good lord.
CORNWALL If he be taken, he shall never more
Be feared of doing harm: make your own purpose,120
How in my strength you please. For121 you, Edmund,
Whose virtue and obedience doth this instant
So much commend itself, you shall be ours123:
Natures of such deep trust we shall much need:
You we first seize on125.
EDMUND I shall serve you, sir, truly, however else.
GLOUCESTER For him I thank your grace.
CORNWALL You know not why we came to visit you?
REGAN Thus out of season, threading dark-eyed129 night:
Occasions, noble Gloucester, of some prize130,
Wherein we must have use of your advice:
Our father he hath writ, so hath our sister,
Of differences133, which I best thought it fit
To answer from134 our home: the several messengers
From hence attend dispatch135. Our good old friend,
Lay comforts to your bosom, and bestow
Your needful counsel to our businesses,
Which craves the instant use138
GLOUCESTER I serve you, madam:
Your graces are right welcome.
Exeunt. Flourish
Act 2 Scene 2
running scene 5
Enter Kent and Steward [Oswald], severally
Kent disguised as Caius
OSWALD Good dawning1 to thee, friend: art of this house?
KENT Ay2.
OSWALD Where may we set3 our horses?
KENT I’th’mire4.
OSWALD Prithee, if thou lov’st me, tell me5.
KENT I love thee not.
OSWALD Why then, I care not for thee.
KENT If I had thee in Lipsbury pinfold8, I would make thee
care for me.
OSWALD Why dost thou use10 me thus? I know thee not.
KENT Fellow, I know thee.
OSWALD What dost thou know me for12?
KENT A knave, a rascal, an eater of broken meats13, a base,
proud, shallow, beggarly, three-suited, hundred-pound14,
filthy, worsted-stocking knave, a lily-livered, action-taking15,
whoreson, glass-gazing, super-serviceable finical16 rogue:
one-trunk-inheriting slave: one that wouldst be a bawd17 in
way of good service, and art nothing but the composition18 of
a knave, beggar, coward, pander19, and the son and heir of a
mongrel bitch: one whom I will beat into clamorous
whining if thou deny’st the least syllable of thy addition21.
OSWALD Why, what a monstrous fellow art thou thus to rail22
on one that is neither known of thee nor knows thee!
KENT What a brazen-faced varlet24 art thou to deny thou
knowest me! Is it two days since I tripped up thy heels and beat
thee before the king? Draw26, you rogue, for though it be night,
yet the moon shines: I’ll make a sop o’th’moonshine27 of you,
you whoreson cullionly barber-monger28. Draw.
Draws his sword
OSWALD Away! I have nothing to do with thee.
KENT Draw, you rascal: you come with letters against the
king, and take vanity the puppet31’s part against the royalty of
her father: draw, you rogue, or I’ll so carbonado32 your
shanks: draw, you rascal, come your ways33.
OSWALD Help, ho! Murder! Help!
KENT Strike, you slave! Stand, rogue, stand, you neat35
slave, strike!
Beats him
OSWALD Help, ho! Murder! Murder!
Enter Bastard [Edmund], Cornwall, Regan, Gloucester, Servants
EDMUND How now, what’s the matter? Part!
KENT With you, Goodman boy39, if you please: come, I’ll
flesh ye40: come on, young master.
GLOUCESTER Weapons? Arms? What’s the matter here?
CORNWALL Keep peace, upon your lives: he dies that strikes
again. What is the matter?
REGAN The messengers from our sister and the king.
CORNWALL What is your difference45? Speak.
OSWALD I am scarce in breath, my lord.
KENT No marvel, you have so bestirred your valour47. You
cowardly rascal, nature disclaims in thee: a tailor made thee48.
CORNWALL Thou art a strange fellow — a tailor make a man?
KENT A tailor, sir: a stone-cutter or a painter could not
have made him so ill51, though they had been but two years
o’th’trade.
CORNWALL Speak yet, how grew your quarrel?
OSWALD This ancient ruffian, sir, whose life I have spared at
suit of his grey beard55—
KENT Thou whoreson zed, thou unnecessary letter56!— My
lord, if you will give me leave, I will tread this unbolted57
villain into mortar and daub the wall of a jakes58 with him.—
Spare my grey beard, you wagtail59?
CORNWALL Peace, sirrah!
You beastly61 knave, know you no reverence?
KENT Yes, sir, but anger hath a privilege62.
CORNWALL Why art thou angry?
KENT That such a slave as this should wear a sword,
Who wears no honesty65. Such smiling rogues as these,
Like rats, oft bite the holy cords a-twain66
Which are too intrinse t’unloose, smooth67 every passion
That in the natures of their lords rebel68,
Being oil to fire69, snow to the colder moods,
Revenge, affirm, and turn their halcyon beaks70
With every gall and vary71 of their masters,
Knowing naught, like dogs, but following.—
To Oswald
A plague upon your epileptic visage73!
Smile you my speeches, as74 I were a fool?
Goose, if I had you upon Sarum75 plain,
I’d drive ye cackling home to Camelot76.
CORNWALL What, art thou mad, old fellow?
GLOUCESTER How fell you out? Say that.
KENT No contraries hold more antipathy
Than I and such a knave.
CORNWALL Why dost thou call him knave? What is his fault?
KENT His countenance likes82 me not.
CORNWALL No more, perchance, does mine, nor his, nor hers—
KENT Sir, ’tis my occupation84 to be plain:
I have seen better faces in my time
Than stands on any shoulder that I see
Before me at this instant.
CORNWALL This is some fellow
Who, having been praised for bluntness, doth affect
A saucy roughness, and constrains the garb90
Quite from his nature. He cannot flatter, he:
An honest mind and plain, he must speak truth!
An they will take it, so: if not, he’s plain93.
These kind of knaves I know, which in this plainness
Harbour more craft and more corrupter95 ends
Than twenty silly ducking observants96
That stretch their duties nicely97.
KENT Sir, in good faith, in sincere verity98,
Under th’allowance of your great aspect99,
Whose influence100, like the wreath of radiant fire
On flickering Phoebus’ front101—
CORNWALL What mean’st by this?
KENT To go out of my dialect103, which you discommend so
much. I know, sir, I am no flatterer: he that beguiled104 you in a
plain accent was a plain knave, which for my part I will not
be, though I should win your displeasure to entreat me to’t106.
To Oswald
CORNWALL What was th’offence you gave him?
OSWALD I never gave him any.
It pleased the king his master very late
To strike at me, upon his misconstruction110:
When he, compact111 and flattering his displeasure,
Tripped me behind, being112 down, insulted, railed,
And put upon him such a deal of man113
That worthied him114, got praises of the king
For him attempting who was self-subdued115:
And, in the fleshment of this dread exploit116,
Drew on me here again.
KENT None of these rogues and cowards118
But Ajax is their fool.
CORNWALL Fetch forth the stocks120!—
You stubborn ancient knave, you reverent braggart121,
We’ll teach you.
KENT Sir, I am too old to learn.
Call not your stocks for me: I serve the king,
On whose employment I was sent to you:
You shall do small respects, show too bold malice126
Against the grace127 and person of my master,
Stocking his messenger.
CORNWALL Fetch forth the stocks! As I have life and honour,
There shall he sit till noon.
REGAN Till noon? Till night, my lord, and all night too.
KENT Why, madam, if I were your father’s dog
You should not use133 me so.
REGAN Sir, being his knave, I will.
Stocks brought out
CORNWALL This is a fellow of the self-same colour135
Our sister speaks of. Come, bring away136 the stocks!
GLOUCESTER Let me beseech your grace not to do so:
The king his master needs must take it ill
That he so slightly valued in his messenger,
Should have him thus restrained.
CORNWALL I’ll answer141 that.
REGAN My sister may receive it much more worse
To have her gentleman abused, assaulted.
Kent put in the stocks
CORNWALL Come, my lord, away.
Exeunt. [Gloucester and Kent remain]
GLOUCESTER I am sorry for thee, friend: ’tis the duke’s pleasure145,
Whose disposition all the world well knows
Will not be rubbed147 nor stopped. I’ll entreat for thee.
KENT Pray do not, sir. I have watched148 and travelled hard:
Some time I shall sleep out, the rest I’ll whistle.
A good man’s fortune may grow out at heels150.
Give you good morrow151.
GLOUCESTER The duke’s to blame in this: ’twill be ill taken.
Exit
KENT Good king, that must approve the common saw153,
Thou out of heaven’s benediction com’st154
To the warm sun.
Pulls out a letter
Approach, thou beacon to this under globe156,
That by thy comfortable157 beams I may
Peruse this letter. Nothing almost sees miracles158
But misery. I know ’tis from Cordelia,
Who hath most fortunately been informed
Of my obscurèd course161, and shall find time
From this enormous state162, seeking to give
Losses their remedies. All weary and o’erwatched163,
Take vantage164, heavy eyes, not to behold
This shameful lodging.
Fortune, goodnight: smile once more, turn thy wheel166!
Sleeps
Enter Edgar
EDGAR I heard myself proclaimed167,
And by the happy168 hollow of a tree
Escaped the hunt. No port is free, no place
That guard and most unusual vigilance
Does not attend my taking171. Whiles I may scape,
I will preserve myself, and am bethought172
To take the basest and most poorest shape
That ever penury in contempt of man174
Brought near to beast: my face I’ll grime with filth,
Blanket my loins, elf176 all my hairs in knots,
And with presented177 nakedness outface
The winds and persecutions of the sky.
The country gives me proof and precedent
Of Bedlam180 beggars, who with roaring voices
Strike in their numbed and mortifièd181 arms
Pins, wooden pricks182, nails, sprigs of rosemary,
And with this horrible object, from low183 farms,
Poor pelting184 villages, sheepcotes, and mills,
Sometimes with lunatic bans185, sometime with prayers,
Enforce their charity. Poor Turlygod, poor Tom186!
That’s something yet: Edgar I nothing am187.
Exit
Enter Lear, Fool and Gentleman
LEAR ’Tis strange that they188 should so depart from home
And not send back my messengers.
GENTLEMAN As I learned,
The night before there was no purpose in them
Of this remove.
Wakes
KENT Hail to thee, noble master!
LEAR Ha? Mak’st thou this shame thy pastime?
KENT No, my lord.
FOOL Ha, ha, he wears cruel196 garters. Horses are tied by
the heads, dogs and bears by th’neck, monkeys by th’loins,
and men by th’legs: when a man’s over-lusty at legs198, then he
wears wooden nether-stocks199.
LEAR What’s he that hath so much thy place200 mistook
To201 set thee here?
KENT It is both he and she:
Your son203 and daughter.
LEAR No.
KENT Yes.
LEAR No, I say.
KENT I say, yea.
LEAR By Jupiter, I swear, no.
KENT By Juno209, I swear, ay.
LEAR They durst not do’t:
They could not, would not do’t: ’tis worse than murder
To do upon respect212 such violent outrage.
Resolve me with all modest haste which way213
Thou might’st deserve or they impose this usage214,
Coming from us215.
KENT My lord, when at their home
I did commend217 your highness’ letters to them,
Ere I was risen from the place that showed
My duty kneeling, came there a reeking post219,
Stewed220 in his haste, half breathless, panting forth
From Goneril his mistress salutations,
Delivered letters, spite of intermission222,
Which presently223 they read: on those contents
They summoned up their meiny, straight224 took horse,
Commanded me to follow and attend225
The leisure of their answer, gave me cold looks:
And meeting here the other messenger,
Whose welcome I perceived had poisoned mine —
Being the very fellow which of late
Displayed so saucily against230 your highness —
Having more man than wit about me, drew231.
He raised the house with loud and coward cries:
Your son and daughter found this trespass worth
The shame which here it suffers.
FOOL Winter’s not gone yet if the wild geese fly that way235.
Sings
Fathers that wear rags
Do make their children blind237,
But fathers that bear bags238
Shall see their children kind.
Fortune, that arrant240 whore,
Ne’er turns the key241 to th’poor.
But, for all this, thou shalt have as many dolours242 for thy
daughters as thou canst tell243 in a year.
LEAR O, how this mother244 swells up toward my heart!
Hysterica passio245, down, thou climbing sorrow:
Thy element’s below246!— Where is this daughter?
KENT With the earl, sir, here within.
LEAR Follow me not: stay here.
Exit
GENTLEMAN Made you no more offence but what you speak of?
KENT None. How chance the king comes with so small a
number?
FOOL An thou had’st been set i’th’stocks for that
Make thy words faithed75? No: what should I deny —
As this I would, though thou didst produce
My very character77 — I’d turn it all
To thy suggestion, plot, and damnèd practice78,
And thou must make a dullard of the world79,
If they not thought the profits80 of my death
Were very pregnant and potential spirits81
Tucket within
To make thee seek it.’
GLOUCESTER O, strange and fastened83 villain!
Would he deny his letter, said he?
Hark, the duke’s trumpets! I know not where85 he comes.
All ports86 I’ll bar: the villain shall not scape:
The duke must grant me that. Besides, his picture87
I will send far and near, that all the kingdom
May have due note of him, and of my land,
Loyal and natural boy, I’ll work the means90
To make thee capable91.
Enter Cornwall, Regan and Attendants
CORNWALL How now, my noble friend? Since I came hither —
Which I can call but now — I have heard strangeness.
REGAN If it be true, all vengeance comes too short
Which can pursue th’offender. How dost, my lord?
GLOUCESTER O, madam, my old heart is cracked, it’s cracked!
REGAN What, did my father’s godson seek your life?
He whom my father named? Your Edgar?
GLOUCESTER O, lady, lady, shame would have it hid!
REGAN Was he not companion with the riotous knights
That tended upon101 my father?
GLOUCESTER I know not, madam: ’tis too bad, too bad.
EDMUND Yes, madam, he was of that consort103.
REGAN No marvel, then, though he were ill affected104:
’Tis they have put him on105 the old man’s death,
To have th’expense106 and waste of his revenues.
I have this present evening from my sister
Been well informed of them, and with such cautions
That if they come to sojourn at my house,
I’ll not be there.
CORNWALL Nor I, assure thee, Regan.—
Edmund, I hear that you have shown your father
A child-like office113.
EDMUND It was my duty, sir.
To Cornwall
GLOUCESTER He did bewray his practice115 and received
This hurt you see striving to apprehend him.
CORNWALL Is he pursued?
GLOUCESTER Ay, my good lord.
CORNWALL If he be taken, he shall never more
Be feared of doing harm: make your own purpose,120
How in my strength you please. For121 you, Edmund,
Whose virtue and obedience doth this instant
So much commend itself, you shall be ours123:
Natures of such deep trust we shall much need:
You we first seize on125.
EDMUND I shall serve you, sir, truly, however else.
GLOUCESTER For him I thank your grace.
CORNWALL You know not why we came to visit you?
REGAN Thus out of season, threading dark-eyed129 night:
Occasions, noble Gloucester, of some prize130,
Wherein we must have use of your advice:
Our father he hath writ, so hath our sister,
Of differences133, which I best thought it fit
To answer from134 our home: the several messengers
From hence attend dispatch135. Our good old friend,
Lay comforts to your bosom, and bestow
Your needful counsel to our businesses,
Which craves the instant use138
GLOUCESTER I serve you, madam:
Your graces are right welcome.
Exeunt. Flourish
Act 2 Scene 2
running scene 5
Enter Kent and Steward [Oswald], severally
Kent disguised as Caius
OSWALD Good dawning1 to thee, friend: art of this house?
KENT Ay2.
OSWALD Where may we set3 our horses?
KENT I’th’mire4.
OSWALD Prithee, if thou lov’st me, tell me5.
KENT I love thee not.
OSWALD Why then, I care not for thee.
KENT If I had thee in Lipsbury pinfold8, I would make thee
care for me.
OSWALD Why dost thou use10 me thus? I know thee not.
KENT Fellow, I know thee.
OSWALD What dost thou know me for12?
KENT A knave, a rascal, an eater of broken meats13, a base,
proud, shallow, beggarly, three-suited, hundred-pound14,
filthy, worsted-stocking knave, a lily-livered, action-taking15,
whoreson, glass-gazing, super-serviceable finical16 rogue:
one-trunk-inheriting slave: one that wouldst be a bawd17 in
way of good service, and art nothing but the composition18 of
a knave, beggar, coward, pander19, and the son and heir of a
mongrel bitch: one whom I will beat into clamorous
whining if thou deny’st the least syllable of thy addition21.
OSWALD Why, what a monstrous fellow art thou thus to rail22
on one that is neither known of thee nor knows thee!
KENT What a brazen-faced varlet24 art thou to deny thou
knowest me! Is it two days since I tripped up thy heels and beat
thee before the king? Draw26, you rogue, for though it be night,
yet the moon shines: I’ll make a sop o’th’moonshine27 of you,
you whoreson cullionly barber-monger28. Draw.
Draws his sword
OSWALD Away! I have nothing to do with thee.
KENT Draw, you rascal: you come with letters against the
king, and take vanity the puppet31’s part against the royalty of
her father: draw, you rogue, or I’ll so carbonado32 your
shanks: draw, you rascal, come your ways33.
OSWALD Help, ho! Murder! Help!
KENT Strike, you slave! Stand, rogue, stand, you neat35
slave, strike!
Beats him
OSWALD Help, ho! Murder! Murder!
Enter Bastard [Edmund], Cornwall, Regan, Gloucester, Servants
EDMUND How now, what’s the matter? Part!
KENT With you, Goodman boy39, if you please: come, I’ll
flesh ye40: come on, young master.
GLOUCESTER Weapons? Arms? What’s the matter here?
CORNWALL Keep peace, upon your lives: he dies that strikes
again. What is the matter?
REGAN The messengers from our sister and the king.
CORNWALL What is your difference45? Speak.
OSWALD I am scarce in breath, my lord.
KENT No marvel, you have so bestirred your valour47. You
cowardly rascal, nature disclaims in thee: a tailor made thee48.
CORNWALL Thou art a strange fellow — a tailor make a man?
KENT A tailor, sir: a stone-cutter or a painter could not
have made him so ill51, though they had been but two years
o’th’trade.
CORNWALL Speak yet, how grew your quarrel?
OSWALD This ancient ruffian, sir, whose life I have spared at
suit of his grey beard55—
KENT Thou whoreson zed, thou unnecessary letter56!— My
lord, if you will give me leave, I will tread this unbolted57
villain into mortar and daub the wall of a jakes58 with him.—
Spare my grey beard, you wagtail59?
CORNWALL Peace, sirrah!
You beastly61 knave, know you no reverence?
KENT Yes, sir, but anger hath a privilege62.
CORNWALL Why art thou angry?
KENT That such a slave as this should wear a sword,
Who wears no honesty65. Such smiling rogues as these,
Like rats, oft bite the holy cords a-twain66
Which are too intrinse t’unloose, smooth67 every passion
That in the natures of their lords rebel68,
Being oil to fire69, snow to the colder moods,
Revenge, affirm, and turn their halcyon beaks70
With every gall and vary71 of their masters,
Knowing naught, like dogs, but following.—
To Oswald
A plague upon your epileptic visage73!
Smile you my speeches, as74 I were a fool?
Goose, if I had you upon Sarum75 plain,
I’d drive ye cackling home to Camelot76.
CORNWALL What, art thou mad, old fellow?
GLOUCESTER How fell you out? Say that.
KENT No contraries hold more antipathy
Than I and such a knave.
CORNWALL Why dost thou call him knave? What is his fault?
KENT His countenance likes82 me not.
CORNWALL No more, perchance, does mine, nor his, nor hers—
KENT Sir, ’tis my occupation84 to be plain:
I have seen better faces in my time
Than stands on any shoulder that I see
Before me at this instant.
CORNWALL This is some fellow
Who, having been praised for bluntness, doth affect
A saucy roughness, and constrains the garb90
Quite from his nature. He cannot flatter, he:
An honest mind and plain, he must speak truth!
An they will take it, so: if not, he’s plain93.
These kind of knaves I know, which in this plainness
Harbour more craft and more corrupter95 ends
Than twenty silly ducking observants96
That stretch their duties nicely97.
KENT Sir, in good faith, in sincere verity98,
Under th’allowance of your great aspect99,
Whose influence100, like the wreath of radiant fire
On flickering Phoebus’ front101—
CORNWALL What mean’st by this?
KENT To go out of my dialect103, which you discommend so
much. I know, sir, I am no flatterer: he that beguiled104 you in a
plain accent was a plain knave, which for my part I will not
be, though I should win your displeasure to entreat me to’t106.
To Oswald
CORNWALL What was th’offence you gave him?
OSWALD I never gave him any.
It pleased the king his master very late
To strike at me, upon his misconstruction110:
When he, compact111 and flattering his displeasure,
Tripped me behind, being112 down, insulted, railed,
And put upon him such a deal of man113
That worthied him114, got praises of the king
For him attempting who was self-subdued115:
And, in the fleshment of this dread exploit116,
Drew on me here again.
KENT None of these rogues and cowards118
But Ajax is their fool.
CORNWALL Fetch forth the stocks120!—
You stubborn ancient knave, you reverent braggart121,
We’ll teach you.
KENT Sir, I am too old to learn.
Call not your stocks for me: I serve the king,
On whose employment I was sent to you:
You shall do small respects, show too bold malice126
Against the grace127 and person of my master,
Stocking his messenger.
CORNWALL Fetch forth the stocks! As I have life and honour,
There shall he sit till noon.
REGAN Till noon? Till night, my lord, and all night too.
KENT Why, madam, if I were your father’s dog
You should not use133 me so.
REGAN Sir, being his knave, I will.
Stocks brought out
CORNWALL This is a fellow of the self-same colour135
Our sister speaks of. Come, bring away136 the stocks!
GLOUCESTER Let me beseech your grace not to do so:
The king his master needs must take it ill
That he so slightly valued in his messenger,
Should have him thus restrained.
CORNWALL I’ll answer141 that.
REGAN My sister may receive it much more worse
To have her gentleman abused, assaulted.
Kent put in the stocks
CORNWALL Come, my lord, away.
Exeunt. [Gloucester and Kent remain]
GLOUCESTER I am sorry for thee, friend: ’tis the duke’s pleasure145,
Whose disposition all the world well knows
Will not be rubbed147 nor stopped. I’ll entreat for thee.
KENT Pray do not, sir. I have watched148 and travelled hard:
Some time I shall sleep out, the rest I’ll whistle.
A good man’s fortune may grow out at heels150.
Give you good morrow151.
GLOUCESTER The duke’s to blame in this: ’twill be ill taken.
Exit
KENT Good king, that must approve the common saw153,
Thou out of heaven’s benediction com’st154
To the warm sun.
Pulls out a letter
Approach, thou beacon to this under globe156,
That by thy comfortable157 beams I may
Peruse this letter. Nothing almost sees miracles158
But misery. I know ’tis from Cordelia,
Who hath most fortunately been informed
Of my obscurèd course161, and shall find time
From this enormous state162, seeking to give
Losses their remedies. All weary and o’erwatched163,
Take vantage164, heavy eyes, not to behold
This shameful lodging.
Fortune, goodnight: smile once more, turn thy wheel166!
Sleeps
Enter Edgar
EDGAR I heard myself proclaimed167,
And by the happy168 hollow of a tree
Escaped the hunt. No port is free, no place
That guard and most unusual vigilance
Does not attend my taking171. Whiles I may scape,
I will preserve myself, and am bethought172
To take the basest and most poorest shape
That ever penury in contempt of man174
Brought near to beast: my face I’ll grime with filth,
Blanket my loins, elf176 all my hairs in knots,
And with presented177 nakedness outface
The winds and persecutions of the sky.
The country gives me proof and precedent
Of Bedlam180 beggars, who with roaring voices
Strike in their numbed and mortifièd181 arms
Pins, wooden pricks182, nails, sprigs of rosemary,
And with this horrible object, from low183 farms,
Poor pelting184 villages, sheepcotes, and mills,
Sometimes with lunatic bans185, sometime with prayers,
Enforce their charity. Poor Turlygod, poor Tom186!
That’s something yet: Edgar I nothing am187.
Exit
Enter Lear, Fool and Gentleman
LEAR ’Tis strange that they188 should so depart from home
And not send back my messengers.
GENTLEMAN As I learned,
The night before there was no purpose in them
Of this remove.
Wakes
KENT Hail to thee, noble master!
LEAR Ha? Mak’st thou this shame thy pastime?
KENT No, my lord.
FOOL Ha, ha, he wears cruel196 garters. Horses are tied by
the heads, dogs and bears by th’neck, monkeys by th’loins,
and men by th’legs: when a man’s over-lusty at legs198, then he
wears wooden nether-stocks199.
LEAR What’s he that hath so much thy place200 mistook
To201 set thee here?
KENT It is both he and she:
Your son203 and daughter.
LEAR No.
KENT Yes.
LEAR No, I say.
KENT I say, yea.
LEAR By Jupiter, I swear, no.
KENT By Juno209, I swear, ay.
LEAR They durst not do’t:
They could not, would not do’t: ’tis worse than murder
To do upon respect212 such violent outrage.
Resolve me with all modest haste which way213
Thou might’st deserve or they impose this usage214,
Coming from us215.
KENT My lord, when at their home
I did commend217 your highness’ letters to them,
Ere I was risen from the place that showed
My duty kneeling, came there a reeking post219,
Stewed220 in his haste, half breathless, panting forth
From Goneril his mistress salutations,
Delivered letters, spite of intermission222,
Which presently223 they read: on those contents
They summoned up their meiny, straight224 took horse,
Commanded me to follow and attend225
The leisure of their answer, gave me cold looks:
And meeting here the other messenger,
Whose welcome I perceived had poisoned mine —
Being the very fellow which of late
Displayed so saucily against230 your highness —
Having more man than wit about me, drew231.
He raised the house with loud and coward cries:
Your son and daughter found this trespass worth
The shame which here it suffers.
FOOL Winter’s not gone yet if the wild geese fly that way235.
Sings
Fathers that wear rags
Do make their children blind237,
But fathers that bear bags238
Shall see their children kind.
Fortune, that arrant240 whore,
Ne’er turns the key241 to th’poor.
But, for all this, thou shalt have as many dolours242 for thy
daughters as thou canst tell243 in a year.
LEAR O, how this mother244 swells up toward my heart!
Hysterica passio245, down, thou climbing sorrow:
Thy element’s below246!— Where is this daughter?
KENT With the earl, sir, here within.
LEAR Follow me not: stay here.
Exit
GENTLEMAN Made you no more offence but what you speak of?
KENT None. How chance the king comes with so small a
number?
FOOL An thou had’st been set i’th’stocks for that
