KING LEAR. William Shakespeare
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Bench by his side:—[To Kent.] you are o’ the commission,
Sit you too.
Edg.
Let us deal justly.
Sleepest or wakest thou, jolly shepherd?
Thy sheep be in the corn;
And for one blast of thy minikin mouth
Thy sheep shall take no harm.
Purr! the cat is gray.
Lear. Arraign her first; ‘tis Goneril. I here take my oath before this honourable assembly, she kicked the poor king her father.
Fool.
Come hither, mistress. Is your name Goneril?
Lear.
She cannot deny it.
Fool.
Cry you mercy, I took you for a joint-stool.
Lear.
And here’s another, whose warp’d looks proclaim
What store her heart is made on.—Stop her there!
Arms, arms! sword! fire!—Corruption in the place!—
False justicer, why hast thou let her ‘scape?
Edg.
Bless thy five wits!
Kent.
O pity!—Sir, where is the patience now
That you so oft have boasted to retain?
Edg.
[Aside.] My tears begin to take his part so much
They’ll mar my counterfeiting.
Lear.
The little dogs and all,
Tray, Blanch, and Sweetheart, see, they bark at me.
Edg.
Tom will throw his head at them.—Avaunt, you curs!
Be thy mouth or black or white,
Tooth that poisons if it bite;
Mastiff, greyhound, mongrel grim,
Hound or spaniel, brach or lym,
Or bobtail tike or trundle-tail,—
Tom will make them weep and wail;
For, with throwing thus my head,
Dogs leap the hatch, and all are fled.
Do de, de, de. Sessa! Come, march to wakes and fairs and market-
towns. Poor Tom, thy horn is dry.
Lear. Then let them anatomize Regan; see what breeds about her heart. Is there any cause in nature that makes these hard hearts?—[To Edgar.] You, sir, I entertain you for one of my hundred; only I do not like the fashion of your garments: you’ll say they are Persian; but let them be changed.
Kent.
Now, good my lord, lie here and rest awhile.
Lear.
Make no noise, make no noise; draw the curtains:
So, so. We’ll go to supper i’ the morning.
Fool.
And I’ll go to bed at noon.
[Re-enter Gloster.]
Glou.
Come hither, friend: where is the king my master?
Kent.
Here, sir; but trouble him not,—his wits are gone.
Glou.
Good friend, I pr’ythee, take him in thy arms;
I have o’erheard a plot of death upon him;
There is a litter ready; lay him in’t
And drive towards Dover, friend, where thou shalt meet
Both welcome and protection. Take up thy master;
If thou shouldst dally half an hour, his life,
With thine, and all that offer to defend him,
Stand in assured loss: take up, take up;
And follow me, that will to some provision
Give thee quick conduct.
Kent.
Oppressed nature sleeps:—
This rest might yet have balm’d thy broken sinews,
Which, if convenience will not allow,
Stand in hard cure.—Come, help to bear thy master;
[To the Fool.] Thou must not stay behind.
Glou.
Come, come, away!
[Exeunt Kent, Gloster, and the Fool, bearing off Lear.]
Edg.
When we our betters see bearing our woes,
We scarcely think our miseries our foes.
Who alone suffers suffers most i’ the mind,
Leaving free things and happy shows behind:
But then the mind much sufferance doth o’erskip
When grief hath mates, and bearing fellowship.
How light and portable my pain seems now,
When that which makes me bend makes the king bow;
He childed as I fathered!—Tom, away!
Mark the high noises; and thyself bewray,
When false opinion, whose wrong thought defiles thee,
In thy just proof repeals and reconciles thee.
What will hap more tonight, safe ‘scape the king!
Lurk, lurk.
[Exit.]
SCENE VII. A Room in Gloster’s Castle.
[Enter Cornwall, Regan, Goneril, Edmund, and Servants.]
Corn. Post speedily to my lord your husband, show him this letter:— the army of France is landed.—Seek out the traitor Gloster.
[Exeunt some of the Servants.]
Reg.
Hang him instantly.
Gon.
Pluck out his eyes.
Corn. Leave him to my displeasure.—Edmund, keep you our sister company: the revenges we are bound to take upon your traitorous father are not fit for your beholding. Advise the duke where you are going, to a most festinate preparation: we are bound to the like. Our posts shall be swift and intelligent betwixt us. Farewell, dear sister:—farewell, my lord of Gloster.
[Enter Oswald.]
How now! Where’s the king?
Osw.
My lord of Gloster hath convey’d him hence:
Some five or six and thirty of his knights,
Hot questrists after him, met him at gate;
Who, with some other of the lord’s dependants,
Are gone with him towards Dover: where they boast
To have well-armed friends.
Corn.
Get horses for your mistress.
Gon.
Farewell, sweet lord, and sister.
Corn.
Edmund, farewell.
[Exeunt Goneril, Edmund, and Oswald.]
Go seek the traitor Gloster,
Pinion him like a thief, bring him before us.