# King Lear (1917) Yale/Text/Act IV

Notes originally placed at the bottom of each page appear below, following Act IV. Where these notes gloss a word in the text, the gloss can also be found by hovering over the text.
Where these notes refer to an end note (cf. n. = confer notam; "consult note"), a link to the accompanying end note is provided from the Footnotes section. The end notes accompanying Act IV begin on page 135 of the original volume.
Layout 2
ACT FOURTH
Scene One
[The Heath]
Enter Edgar.
Edg. Yet better thus, and known to be contemn'd, Than still contemn'd and flatter'd. To be worst, The lowest and most dejected thing of fortune, Stands still in esperance, lives not in fear: 4 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. But who comes here? 9
Enter Gloucester, and an old man.
My father, poorly led? World, world, O world! But that thy strange mutations make us hate thee, Life would not yield to age.
Old Man. O my good lord! 12 ​I have been your tenant, and your father's tenant, These fourscore years.
Glo. Away, get thee away; good friend, be gone; Thy comforts can do me no good at all; 16 Thee they may hurt.
Old Man. You cannot see your way.
Glo. I have no way, and therefore want no eyes; I stumbled when I saw. Full oft 'tis seen, Our means secure us, and our mere defects 20 Prove our commodities. Ah! dear son Edgar, The food of thy abused father's wrath; Might I but live to see thee in my touch, I'd say I had eyes again.
Old Man. How now! Who's there? 24
Edg. [Aside.] O gods! Who is 't can say, 'I am at the worst?' I am worse than e'er I was.
Old Man. 'Tis poor mad Tom.
Edg. [Aside.] And worse I may be yet; the worst is not, So long as we can say, 'This is the worst.' 28
Old Man. Fellow, where goest?
Glo. Is it a beggar-man?
Old Man. Madman and beggar too.
Glo. He has some reason, else he could not beg. I' the last night's storm I such a fellow saw, 32 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; 36 They kill us for their sport.
Edg. [Aside.] How should this be? ​Bad is the trade that must play fool to sorrow, Angering itself and others.—[To Gloucester.] Bless thee, master!
Glo. Is that the naked fellow?
Old Man. Ay, my lord.
Glo. Then, prithee, get thee gone. If, for my sake, 41 Thou wilt o'ertake us, hence a mile or twain, I' the way toward Dover, do it for ancient love; And bring some covering for this naked soul 44 Who I'll entreat to lead me.
Old Man. Alack, sir! he is mad.
Glo. 'Tis the times' plague, when madmen lead the blind. Do as I bid thee, or rather do thy pleasure; Above the rest, be gone. 48
Old Man. I'll bring him the best 'parel that I have, Come on 't what will. Exit.
Glo. Sirrah, naked fellow,—
Edg. Poor Tom's a-cold. [Aside.] I cannot daub it further. 52
Glo. Come hither, fellow.
Edg. [Aside.] And yet I must. Bless thy sweet eyes, they bleed.
Glo. Know'st thou the way to Dover? 55
Edg. Both stile and gate, horse-way and foot- path. Poor Tom hath been scared out of his good wits: bless thee, good man's son, from the foul fiend! [Five fiends have been in poor Tom at once; of lust, as Obidicut; Hobbididance, prince of dumbness; Mahu, of stealing; Modo, of murder; and Flibbertigibbet, of mopping and ​mowing; who since possesses chambermaids and waiting-women. So, bless thee, master!] 64
Glo. Here, take this purse, thou whom the heavens' plagues Have humbled to all strokes: that I am wretched Makes thee the happier: heavens, deal so still! Let the superfluous and lust-dieted man, 68 That slaves your ordinance, that will not see Because he doth not feel, feel your power quickly; So distribution should undo excess, And each man have enough. Dost thou know Dover? 72
Edg. Ay, master.
Glo. There is a cliff, whose high and bending head Looks fearfully in the confined deep; Bring me but to the very brim of it, 76 And I'll 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 Two
[Before the Duke of Albany's Palace]
Enter Goneril, Bastard [Edmund], and Steward [Oswald.]
Gon. Welcome, my lord; I marvel our mild husband Not met us on the way. Now, where's your master?
Osw. Madam, within; but never man so chang'd. I told him of the army that was landed; 4 He smil'd at it: I told him you were coming; ​His answer was, 'The worse:' of Gloucester's treachery, And of the loyal service of his son, When I inform'd him, then he call'd me sot, 8 And told me I had turn'd the wrong side out: 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 12 That dares not undertake; he'll 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: 16 I must change arms at home, and give the distaff Into my husband's hands. This trusty servant Shall pass between us; ere long you are like to hear, If you dare venture in your own behalf, 20 A mistress's command. Wear this; spare speech; [Giving a favour.] Decline your head: this kiss, if it durst speak, Would stretch thy spirits up into the air. Conceive, and fare thee well. 24
Edm. Yours in the ranks of death. Exit.
Gon. My most dear Gloucester! O! the difference of man and man! To thee a woman's services are due: My fool usurps my bed.
Osw. Madam, here comes my lord. [Exit.]
Enter Albany.
Gon. I have been worth the whistle.
Alb. O Goneril! 29 You are not worth the dust which the rude wind ​Blows in your face. [I fear your disposition: That nature, which contemns its origin, 32 Cannot be border'd certain in itself; She that herself will sliver and disbranch From her material sap, perforce must wither And come to deadly use. 36
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 perform'd? A father, and a gracious aged man, 41 Whose reverence the head-lugg'd bear would lick, Most barbarous, most degenerate! have you madded. Could my good brother suffer you to do it? 44 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, 48 Humanity must perforce prey on itself, Like monsters of the deep.]
Gon. Milk-liver'd man! That bear'st a cheek for blows, a head for wrongs; Who hast not in thy brows an eye discerning 52 Thine honour from thy suffering; [that not know'st Fools do those villains pity who are punish'd Ere they have done their mischief. Where's thy drum? France spreads his banners in our noiseless land, 56 With plumed helm thy slayer begins threats, Whilst thou, a moral fool, sitt'st still, and criest 'Alack! why does he so?']
Alb. See thyself, devil! ​Proper deformity seems not in the fiend 60 So horrid as in woman.
Gon. O vain fool!
[Alb. Thou changed and self-cover'd thing, for shame, Be-monster not thy feature. Were 't my fitness To let these hands obey my blood, 64 They are apt enough to dislocate and tear Thy flesh and bones; howe'er thou art a fiend, A woman's shape doth shield thee.
Gon. Marry, your manhood.—Mew!] 68
Enter a Messenger.
[Alb. What news?]
Mess. O! my good lord, the Duke of Cornwall's dead; Slain by his servant, going to put out The other eye of Gloucester.
Alb. Gloucester's eyes! 72
Mess. A servant that he bred, thrill'd with remorse, Oppos'd against the act, bending his sword To his great master; who, thereat enrag'd, Flew on him, and amongst them fell'd him dead; 76 But not without that harmful stroke, which since Hath pluck'd him after.
Alb. This shows you are above, You justicers, that these our nether crimes So speedily can venge! But, O poor Gloucester! Lost he his other eye?
Mess. Both, both, my lord. 81 This letter, madam, craves a speedy answer; ​'Tis from your sister.
Gon. [Aside.] One way I like this well; But being widow, and my Gloucester with her, May all the building in my fancy pluck 85 Upon my hateful life; another way, This news is not so tart. [To Messenger.] I'll read and answer.
[Exit.]
Alb. Where was his son when they did take his eyes? 88
Mess. Come with my lady hither.
Alb. He is not here.
Mess. No, my good lord; I met him back again.
Alb. Knows he the wickedness?
Mess. Ay, my good lord; 'twas he inform'd against him, 92 And quit the house on purpose that their punishment Might have the freer course.
Alb. Gloucester, I live To thank thee for the love thou show'dst the king, And to revenge thine eyes. Come hither, friend: Tell me what more thou knowest. Exeunt.
Scene Three
[The French Camp, near Dover]
Enter Kent and a Gentleman.
Kent. Why the King of France is so suddenly gone back know you the reason?
Gent. Something he left imperfect in the state, which since his coming forth is thought of; which imports to the kingdom so much fear and danger, that his personal return was most required and necessary. 7
Kent. Who hath he left behind him general?
​Gent. The Marshal of France, Monsieur la Far.
Kent. Did your letters pierce the queen to any demonstration of grief? 12
Gent. Ay, sir; she took them, read them in my presence; And now and then an ample tear trill'd down Her delicate cheek; it seem'd she was a queen Over her passion; who, most rebel-like, 16 Sought to be king o'er her.
Kent. O! then it mov'd her.
Gent. Not to a rage; patience and sorrow strove Who should express her goodliest. You have seen Sunshine and rain at once; her smiles and tears Were like a better way; those happy smilets 21 That play'd on her ripe lip seem'd not to know What guests were in her eyes; which parted thence, As pearls from diamonds dropp'd. In brief, 24 Sorrow would be a rarity most belov'd, If all could so become it.
Kent. Made she no verbal question?
Gent. Faith, once or twice she heav'd the name of 'father' Pantingly forth, as if it press'd her heart; 28 Cried, 'Sisters! sisters! Shame of ladies! sisters! Kent! father! sisters! What, i' the storm? i' the night? Let pity not be believed!' There she shook The holy water from her heavenly eyes, 32 And clamour-moisten'd, then away she started To deal with grief alone.
Kent. It is the stars, The stars above us, govern our conditions; ​Else one self mate and make could not beget 36 Such different issues. You spoke not with her since?
Gent. No.
Kent. Was this before the king return'd?
Gent. No, since.
Kent. Well, sir, the poor distress'd Lear's i' the town, 40 Who sometime, in his better tune, remembers What we are come about, and by no means Will yield to see his daughter.
Gent. Why, good sir?
Kent. A sovereign shame so elbows him: his own unkindness, 44 That stripp'd her from his benediction, turn'd her To foreign casualties, gave her dear rights To his dog-hearted daughters,—these things sting His mind so venomously that burning shame Detains him from Cordelia.
Gent. Alack! poor gentleman. 49
Kent. Of Albany's and Cornwall's powers you heard not?
Gent. 'Tis so, they are afoot.
Kent. Well, sir, I'll bring you to our master Lear, 52 And leave you to attend him. Some dear cause Will in concealment wrap me up awhile; When I am known aright, you shall not grieve Lending me this acquaintance. I pray you, go Along with me. Exeunt.]
Scene Four
[The Same. A Tent]
Enter with drum and colours, Cordelia, Gentlemen, [Doctor] and Soldiers.
Cor. Alack! 'tis he: why, he was met even now As mad as the vex'd sea; singing aloud; Crown'd with rank fumiter and furrow weeds, With burdocks, hemlock, nettles, cuckoo-flowers, Darnel, and all the idle weeds that grow 5 In our sustaining corn. A century send forth; Search every acre in the high-grown field, And bring him to our eye. [Exit an Officer.] What can man's wisdom 8 In the restoring his bereaved sense? He that helps him take all my outward worth.
[Doc.] There is means, madam; Our foster-nurse of nature is repose, 12 The which he lacks; that to provoke in him, Are many simples operative, whose power Will close the eye of anguish.
Cor. All bless'd secrets, All you unpublish'd virtues of the earth, 16 Spring with my tears! be aidant and remediate In the good man's distress! Seek, seek for him, Lest his ungovern'd rage dissolve the life That wants the means to lead it.
Enter Messenger.
Mess. News, madam; 20 The British powers are marching hitherward.
​Cor. 'Tis known before; our preparation stands In expectation of them. O dear father! It is thy business that I go about; 24 Therefore great France My mourning and important tears hath pitied. No blown ambition doth our arms incite, But love, dear love, and our ag'd father's right, Soon may I hear and see him! Exeunt.
Scene Five
[Gloucester's Castle]
Enter Regan and Steward [Oswald.]
Reg. But are my brother's powers set forth?
Osw. Ay, madam.
Reg. Himself in person there?
Osw. Madam, with much ado: Your sister is the better soldier.
Reg. Lord Edmund spake not with your lord at home? 4
Osw. No, madam.
Reg. What might import my sister's letter to him?
Osw. I know not, lady.
Reg. Faith, he is posted hence on serious matter. 8 It was great ignorance, Gloucester's eyes being out, To let him live; where he arrives he moves All hearts against us. Edmund, I think, is gone, In pity of his misery, to dispatch 12 His nighted life; moreover, to descry The strength o' the enemy.
Osw. I must needs after him, madam, with my letter.
​Reg. Our troops set forth to-morrow; stay with us, 16 The ways are dangerous.
Osw. I may not, madam; My lady charg'd my duty in this business.
Reg. Why should she write to Edmund? Might not you Transport her purposes by word? Belike, 20 Something—I know not what. I'll love thee much, Let me unseal the letter.
Osw. Madam, I had rather—
Reg. I know your lady does not love her husband; I am sure of that: and at her late being here 24 She gave strange œillades and most speaking looks To noble Edmund. I know you are of her bosom.
Osw. I, madam!
Reg. I speak in understanding; you are, I know 't: 28 Therefore I do advise you, take this note: My lord is dead; Edmund and I have talk'd, And more convenient is he for my hand Than for your lady's. You may gather more. 32 If you do find him, pray you, give him this, And when your mistress hears thus much from you, I pray desire her call her wisdom to her: So, fare you well. 36 If you do chance to hear of that blind traitor, Preferment falls on him that cuts him off.
Osw. Would I could meet him, madam: I would show What party I do follow.
Reg. Fare thee well. Exeunt.
Scene Six
[The Country near Dover]
Enter Gloucester and Edgar.
Glo. When shall I come to the top of that same hill?
Edg. You do climb up it now; look how we labour.
Glo. Methinks the ground is even.
Edg. Horrible steep: Hark! do you hear the sea?
Glo. No, truly. 4
Edg. Why, then your other senses grow imperfect By your eyes' anguish.
Glo. So may it be, indeed. Methinks thy voice is alter'd, and thou speak'st In better phrase and matter than thou didst. 8
Edg. Y'are much deceived; in nothing am I chang'd But in my garments.
Glo. Methinks you're better spoken.
Edg. Come on, sir; here's the place; stand still. How fearful 12 And dizzy 'tis to cast one's eyes so low! The crows and choughs that wing the midway air Show scarce so gross as beetles; half way down Hangs one that gathers samphire, dreadful trade! 16 Methinks he seems no bigger than his head. The fishermen that walk upon the beach Appear like mice, and yond tall anchoring bark Diminish'd to her cock, her cock a buoy 20 Almost too small for sight. The murmuring surge, That on the unnumber'd idle pebbles chafes, ​Cannot be heard so high. I'll look no more, Lest my brain turn, and the deficient sight 24 Topple down headlong.
Glo. Set me where you stand.
Edg. Give me your hand; you are now within a foot Of the extreme verge: for all beneath the moon Would I not leap upright.
Glo. Let go my hand. 28 Here, friend, 's another purse; in it a jewel Well worth a poor man's taking: fairies and gods Prosper it with thee! Go thou further off; Bid me farewell, and let me hear thee going. 32
Edg. Now fare you well, good sir.
Glo. With all my heart.
Edg. Why I do trifle thus with his despair Is done to cure it.
Glo. O you mighty gods! This world I do renounce, and, in your sights, 36 Shake patiently my great affliction off; If I could bear it longer, and not fall To quarrel with your great opposeless wills, My snuff and loathed part of nature should 40 Burn itself out. If Edgar live, O, bless him! Now, fellow, fare thee well. [He falls forward.]
Edg. Gone, sir: farewell. [Aside.] And yet I know not how conceit may rob The treasury of life when life itself 44 Yields to the theft; had he been where he thought By this had thought been past. Alive or dead? [To Gloucester.] Ho, you sir! friend! Hear you, sir? speak! Thus might he pass indeed; yet he revives. 48 ​What are you, sir?
Glo. Away and let me die.
Edg. Hadst thou been aught but gossamer, feathers, air, So many fathom down precipitating, Thou 'dst shiver'd like an egg; but thou dost breathe, 52 Hast heavy 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 miracle. Speak yet again. 56
Glo. But have I fallen or no?
Edg. From the dread summit of this chalky bourn. Look up a-height; the shrill-gorg'd lark so far Cannot be seen or heard: do but look up. 60
Glo. Alack! I have no eyes. Is wretchedness depriv'd that benefit To end itself by death? 'Twas yet some comfort, When misery could beguile the tyrant's rage, 64 And frustrate his proud will.
Edg. Give me your arm: Up: so. How is 't? Feel you your legs? You stand.
Glo. Too well, too well.
Edg. This is above all strangeness. Upon the crown o' the cliff, what thing was that Which parted from you?
Glo. A poor unfortunate beggar. 69
Edg. As I stood here below methought his eyes Were two full moons; he had a thousand noses, Horns whelk'd and wav'd like the enridged sea: It was some fiend; therefore, thou happy father, ​Think that the clearest gods, who make them honours 74 Of men's impossibilities, have preserv'd thee.
Glo. I do remember now; henceforth I'll bear Affliction till it do cry out itself 77 'Enough, enough,' and die. That thing you speak of I took it for a man; often 'twould say 'The fiend, the fiend:' he led me to that place.
Edg. Bear free and patient thoughts. But who comes here? 81
Enter Lear.
The safer sense will ne'er accommodate His master thus.
Lear. No, they cannot touch me for coining; I am the king himself. 85
Edg. O thou side-piercing sight!
Lear. Nature's above art in that respect. There's your press-money. That fellow handles his bow like a crow-keeper: draw me a clothier's yard. Look, look! a mouse. Peace, peace! this piece of toasted cheese will do 't. There 's my gauntlet; I'll prove it on a giant. Bring up the brown bills. O! well flown, bird; i' the clout, i' the clout: hewgh! Give the word.
Edg. Sweet marjoram.
Lear. Pass. 96
Glo. I know that voice.
Lear. Ha! Goneril, with a white beard! They flatter'd me like a dog, and told me I had ​white hairs in my beard ere the black ones were there. To say 'ay' and 'no' to everything I said! 'Ay' and 'no' too was no good divi- nity. When the rain came to wet me once and the wind to make me chatter, when the thunder would not peace at my bidding, there I found 'em, there I smelt 'em out. Go to, they are not men o' their words: they told me I was every- thing; 'tis a lie, I am not ague-proof. 108
Glo. The trick of that voice I do well remember: Is 't not the king?
Lear. Ay, every inch a king: When I do stare, see how the subject quakes. I pardon that man's life. What was thy cause? 112 Adultery? Thou shalt not die: die for adultery! No: The wren goes to 't, and the small gilded fly Does lecher in my sight. 116 Let copulation thrive; for Gloucester's bastard son Was kinder to his father than my daughters Got 'tween the lawful sheets. To 't luxury, pell-mell! for I lack soldiers. 120 Behold yond simpering dame, Whose face between her forks presageth snow; That minces virtue, and does shake the head To hear of pleasure's name; 124 The fitchew nor the soiled horse goes to 't With a more riotous appetite. Down from the waist they are Centaurs, Though women all above: 128 But to the girdle do the gods inherit, Beneath is all the fiends': ​There's hell, there's darkness, there is the sulphurous pit, 131 Burning, scalding, stench, consumption; fie, fie, fie! pah, pah! Give me an ounce of civet, good apothecary, to sweeten my imagination: there's money for thee.
Glo. O! let me kiss that hand! 136
Lear. Let me wipe it first; it smells of mortality.
Glo. O ruin'd piece of nature! This great world Shall so wear out to naught. Dost thou know me? 139
Lear. I remember thine eyes well enough. Dost thou squiny at me? No, do thy worst, blind Cupid; I'll not love. Read thou this challenge; mark but the penning of it.
Glo. Were all the letters suns, I could not see.
Edg. [Aside.] I would not take this from report; it is, 145 And my heart breaks at it.
Lear. Read.
Glo. What! with the case of eyes? 148
Lear. O, ho! are you there with me? No eyes in your head, nor no money in your purse? Your eyes are in a heavy case, your purse in a light: yet you see how this world goes. 152
Glo. I see it feelingly.
Lear. What! art mad? A man may see how this world goes with no eyes. Look with thine ears: see how yond justice rails upon yon simple thief. Hark, in thine ear: change places; and, handy-dandy, which is the justice, which is the thief? Thou hast seen a farmer's dog bark at a beggar? 160
Glo. Ay, sir.
Lear. And the creature run from the cur? There thou mightst behold the great image of authority: a dog's obey'd in office. 164 Thou rascal beadle, hold thy bloody hand! Why dost thou lash that whore? Strip thine own back; Thou hotly lust'st to use her in that kind For which thou whipp'st her. The usurer hangs the cozener. 168 Through tatter'd clothes small vices do appear; Robes and furr'd gowns hide all. Plate sin with gold, And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks; Arm it in rags, a pigmy's straw doth pierce it. None does offend, none, I say none; I'll able 'em: 173 Take that of me, my friend, who have the power To seal the accuser's lips. Get thee glass eyes; And, like a scurvy politician, seem 176 To see the things thou dost not. Now, now, now, now; Pull off my boots; harder, harder; so.
Edg. [Aside.] O! matter and impertinency mix'd; Reason in madness! 180
Lear. If thou wilt weep my fortunes, take my eyes; I know thee well enough; thy name is Gloucester: Thou must be patient; we came crying hither: Thou know'st the first time that we smell the air 184 We waul and cry. I will preach to thee: mark.
Glo. Alack! alack the day!
Lear. When we are born, we cry that we are come To this great stage of fools. This' a good block! It were a delicate stratagem to shoe 189 A troop of horse with felt; I'll put it in proof, ​And when I have stol'n upon these sons-in-law, Then, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill! 192
Enter a Gentleman, [with Attendants.]
Gent. O! here he is; lay hand upon him. Sir, Your most dear daughter—
Lear. No rescue? What! a prisoner? I am even The natural fool of fortune. Use me well; 196 You shall have ransom. Let me have surgeons; I am cut to the brains.
Gent. You shall have any thing.
Lear. No seconds? All myself? Why this would make a man a man of salt, 200 To use his eyes for garden water-pots, Ay, and laying autumn's dust.
Gent. Good sir,—
Lear. I will die bravely as a bridegroom. What! I will be jovial: come, come; I am a king, 204 My masters, know you that?
Gent. You are a royal one, and we obey you.
Lear. Then there's life in it. Nay, an you get it, you shall get it by running. Sa, sa, sa, sa.
Exit. [Attendants follow.]
Gent. A sight most pitiful in the meanest wretch, 209 Past speaking of in a king! Thou hast one daughter, Who redeems nature from the general curse Which twain have brought her to. 212
Edg. Hail, gentle sir!
Gent. Sir, speed you: what's your will?
Edg. Do you hear aught, sir, of a battle toward?
Gent. Most sure and vulgar; every one hears that, Which can distinguish sound.
​Edg. But, by your favour, 216 How near's the other army?
Gent. Near, and on speedy foot; the main descry Stands on the hourly thought.
Edg. I thank you, sir: that's all.
Gent. Though that the queen on special cause is here, 220 Her army is mov'd on. Exit.
Edg. I thank you, sir.
Glo. You ever-gentle gods, take my breath from me: Let not my worser spirit tempt me again To die before you please!
Edg. Well pray you, father. 224
Glo. Now, good sir, what are you?
Edg. A most poor man, made tame to fortune's blows; Who, by the art of known and feeling sorrows, Am pregnant to good pity. Give me your hand, I'll lead you to some biding.
Glo. Hearty thanks: 229 The bounty and the benison of heaven To boot, and boot!
Enter Steward [Oswald.]
Osw. A proclaim'd prize! Most happy! That eyeless head of thine was first fram'd flesh To raise my fortunes. Thou old unhappy traitor, 233 Briefly thyself remember: the sword is out That must destroy thee.
Glo. Now let thy friendly hand Put strength enough to 't. [Edgar interposes.]
Osw. Wherefore, bold peasant, 236 ​Dar'st thou support a publish'd traitor? Hence; Lest that infection of his fortune take Like hold on thee. Let go his arm.
Edg. Chill not let go, zur, without vurther 'casion. 241
Osw. Let go, slave, or thou diest.
Edg. Good gentleman, go your gait, and let poor volk pass. An chud ha' bin zwaggered out of my life, 'twould not ha' bin zo long as 'tis by a vortnight. Nay, come not near th' old man; keep out, che vor ye, or ise try whether your costard or my ballow be the harder. Chill be plain with you. 249
Osw. Out, dunghill!
Edg. Chill pick your teeth, zur. Come; no matter vor your foins. 252
[They fight and Edgar knocks him down.]
Osw. Slave, thou hast slain me. Villain, take my purse. If ever thou wilt thrive, bury my body; And give the letters which thou find'st about me To Edmund Earl of Gloucester; seek him out Upon the English party: O! untimely death. 257
[Dies.]
Edg. I know thee well: a serviceable villain; As duteous to the vices of thy mistress As badness would desire.
Glo. What! is he dead? 260
Edg. Sit you down, father; rest you. Let's see his pockets: these letters that he speaks of May be my friends. He's dead; I am only sorry He had no other deaths-man. Let us see: 264 ​Leave, gentle wax; and, manners, blame us not: To know our enemies' minds, we'd rip their hearts; Their papers, is more lawful. "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— 276 Affectionate servant, Goneril." O undistinguish'd space of woman's will! A plot upon her virtuous husband's life, 280 And the exchange my brother! Here, in the sands, Thee I'll rake up, the post unsanctified Of murderous lechers; and in the mature time With this ungracious paper strike the sight 284 Of the death-practis'd duke. For him 'tis well That of thy death and business I can tell.
Glo. The king is mad: how stiff is my vile sense, That I stand up, and have ingenious feeling 288 Of my huge sorrows! Better I were distract: So should my thoughts be sever'd from my griefs, And woes by wrong imaginations lose The knowledge of themselves. [Drums afar.]
Edg. Give me your hand! 292 Far off, methinks, I hear the beaten drum. Come, father, I'll bestow you with a friend.
Exeunt.
Scene Seven
[A Tent in the French Camp]
Enter Cordelia, Kent, and Gentleman [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 acknowledg'd, madam, is o'erpaid. 4 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; 8 Yet to be known shortens my made intent: My boon I make it that you know me not Till time and I think meet.
Cor. Then be 't so, my good lord.—[To the Doctor.] How does the king? 12
[Doc.] Madam, sleeps still.
Cor. O you kind gods, Cure this great breach in his abused nature! The untun'd and jarring senses, O! wind up 16 Of this child-changed father!
[Doc.] 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
Enter Lear in a chair carried by Servants.
Gent. Ay, madam; in the heaviness of sleep, We put fresh garments on him.
​[Doc.] Be by, good madam, when we do awake him; I doubt not of his temperance.
Cor. Very well. [Music.]
[Doc.] Please you, draw near. Louder the music there. 25
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! 29
Cor. Had you not been their father, these white flakes Had challeng'd pity of them. Was this a face To be expos'd against the warring winds? 32 [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, 36 Though he had bit me, should have stood that night Against my fire. And wast thou fain, poor father, To hovel thee with swine and rogues forlorn, In short and musty straw? Alack, alack! 40 'Tis wonder that thy life and wits at once Had not concluded all. He wakes; speak to him.
[Doc.] Madam, do you; 'tis fittest.
Cor. How does my royal lord? How fares your majesty? 44
Lear. You do me wrong to take me out o' the grave; Thou art a soul in bliss; but I am bound Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears Do scald like molten lead.
​Cor. Sir, do you know me? 48
Lear. You are a spirit, I know; when did you die?
Cor. Still, still, far wide.
[Doc.] He's scarce awake; let him alone awhile.
Lear. Where have I been? Where am I? Fair day-light? 52 I am mightily abus'd. I should even die with pity To see another thus. I know not what to say. I will not swear these are my hands: let's see; I feel this pin prick. Would I were assur'd 56 Of my condition!
Cor. O! look upon me, sir, And hold your hands in benediction o'er me. No, sir, you must not kneel.
Lear. Pray, do not mock me: I am a very foolish fond old man, 60 Fourscore and upward, not an hour more or less; And, to deal plainly, I fear I am not in my perfect mind. Methinks I should know you and know this man; 64 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; 68 For, as I am a man, I think this lady To be my child Cordelia.
Cor. 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. 72 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. No cause, no cause.
Lear. Am I in France?
Kent. In your own kingdom, sir.
Lear. Do not abuse me. 77
[Doc.] 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. 80 Desire him to go in; trouble him no more Till further settling.
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 [Lear, Cordelia, Doctor, and Attendants.]
[Gent. Holds it true, sir, that the Duke of Cornwall was so slain?
Kent. Most certain, sir.
Gent. Who is conductor of his people? 88
Kent. As 'tis said, the bastard son of Gloucester.
Gent. They say Edgar, his banished son, is with the Earl of Kent in Germany.
Kent. Report is changeable. 'Tis time to look about; the powers of the kingdom approach apace. 94
Gent. The arbitrement is like to be bloody. Fare you well, sir. [Exit.]
Kent. My point and period will be throughly wrought, 97 Or well or ill, as this day's battle's fought.] [Exit.]
Footnotes to Act IV
Scene One
​4 esperance: hope 11 mutations; cf. n. ​20 means; cf. n. ​52 daub: overpaint reality 62 mopping and mowing: making grimaces ​
Scene Two
​12 cowish: easily cowed 14 tie him to: require 29 worth the whistle; cf. n. ​31 fear: fear for 34 sliver: deprive of twigs 42 head-lugg'd: led about by a muzzle 54 Fools, etc.; cf. n. 58 moral: moralizing ​60 Proper: that which belongs 61 vain: empty 62 self-cover'd: hypocritical 63 Be-monster not thy feature: don't let your whole appearance become beastly 65 apt: ready 73 remorse: pity
Scene Three
​16 who: which 21 better way: like sunshine and rain, but even better 26 verbal question: oral conversation 33 clamour-moisten'd: wet with lamentation ​36 mate and make: husband and wife 46 To foreign casualties: to take chances among foreigners
Scene Four
​3 fumiter: fumitory, plant with bitter taste 4 cuckoo-flowers: the ragged robin, a marsh plant 5 Darnel: a weed, injurious to growing crops idle: worthless 6 century: company of one hundred men 14 simples: medicinal plants 17 aidant and remediate: aiding and remedial ​26 important: importunate
Scene Five
​25 œillades: oglings 26 of her bosom: in her confidence
Scene Six
​14 choughs: bird of the crow family, jackdaw 16 samphire: samper, used for pickles 20 cock: cock-boat 22 unnumber'd: innumerable ​24 deficient sight: sight failing 39 opposeless: invincible 40 snuff; cf. n. 43 conceit: imagination ​54 at each: one on another 58 bourn: boundary 59 shrill-gorg'd: high-voiced 72 whelk'd: twisted ​74 clearest gods; cf. n. 82 safer: saner accommodate: equip 88 press-money: money given to soldiers when pressed into service 89 crow-keeper: scare-crow (?) clothier's yard: cloth-yard shaft, used with long bow; cf. n. 93 brown bills: halberds, or, men carrying them 94 clout: bull's-eye, bit of white cloth used for mark in archery ​101 'ay' and 'no'; cf. n. 120 luxury: lewdness 122 forks: legs 123 minces: makes an affected show of 125 fitchew: polecat soiled: overfed ​141 squiny: squint 148 case: sockets 158 handy-dandy; cf. n. ​173 able: be responsible for 179 impertinency: irrelevant talk 185 waul: caterwaul 188 This': this is block: hat ​215 vulgar: common ​218 main descry, etc.; cf. n. 228 pregnant: ready, receptive 229 biding: abiding-place 231 To boot, and boot: over and over ​240 chill: I will 244 An chud: if I should 247 che vor ye: I warn you 248 costard: apple, used jokingly for head ballow: stick 252 foins: thrusts ​265 Leave: give leave 277 servant: lover 279 undistinguish'd space: incalculable scope 282 rake up: cover 285 death-practis'd: mortally plotted against 288 ingenious: conscious
Scene Seven
​6 suited: dressed 7 weeds: clothes 9 made intent: fixed purpose 17 child-changed: change due to daughters' behavior ​35 perdu: soldier placed in a forlorn hope 42 all: entirely ​65 mainly: mightily ​80 even o'er, etc.: fill in the chasm in his memory 95 arbitrement: process of decision