Original Text
*Enter Lear, fantastically dressed with wild flowers.* EDGAR. Bear free and patient thoughts. But who comes here? The safer sense will ne'er accommodate His master thus. LEAR. No, they cannot touch me for coining. I am the King himself. EDGAR. O thou side-piercing sight!
Original Text
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'th' clout, i'th' clout — hewgh! Give the word. EDGAR. Sweet marjoram. LEAR. Pass.
Original Text
GLOUCESTER. I know that voice. LEAR. Ha! Goneril with a white beard! They flattered me like a dog, and told me I had the 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 divinity.
Original Text
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 everything; 'tis a lie — I am not ague-proof.
Original Text
GLOUCESTER. 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? Adultery? Thou shalt not die: die for adultery? No, the wren goes to't, and the small gilded fly Does letcher in my sight. Let copulation thrive: For Gloucester's bastard son was kinder to his father Than my daughters got 'tween the lawful sheets. Too't, luxury, pell-mell! for I lack soldiers.
Original Text
Behold yond simpering dame, Whose face between her forks presages snow, That minces virtue, and does shake the head To hear of pleasure's name. 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: But to the girdle do the gods inherit; Beneath is all the fiends': there's hell, there's darkness, There is the sulphurous pit — burning, scalding, stench, Consumption! Fie, fie, fie; pah, pah! Give me an ounce Of civet; good apothecary, sweeten my imagination: There's money for thee.
Original Text
GLOUCESTER. O, let me kiss that hand! LEAR. Let me wipe it first; It smells of mortality. GLOUCESTER. O ruined piece of nature! This great world Shall so wear out to naught. Dost thou know me?
Original Text
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. GLOUCESTER. Were all thy letters suns, I could not see. EDGAR. *(aside)* I would not take this from report — it is, and my heart breaks at it.
Original Text
LEAR. Read. GLOUCESTER. What, with the case of eyes? 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. GLOUCESTER. I see it feelingly.
Original Text
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 yond 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? GLOUCESTER. Ay, sir.
Original Text
LEAR. And the creature run from the cur: there thou might'st behold the great image of authority — a dog's obeyed in office. Thou rascal beadle, hold thy bloody hand! Why dost thou lash that whore? Strip thine own back, Thou hotly lusts to use her in that kind For which thou whipp'st her.
Original Text
The usurer hangs the cozener. Through tattered clothes great vices do appear; Robes and furred gowns hide all. Place sins with gold, And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks; Arm it in rags, a pygmy's straw does pierce it. None does offend, None — I say none — I'll able 'em: take that of me, my friend, Who have the power to seal th' accuser's lips. Get thee glass eyes, And, like a scurvy politician, seem To see the things thou dost not. Now, now, now, now! Pull off my boots: harder, harder — so.
Original Text
EDGAR. *(aside)* O matter and impertinency mixed! Reason in madness. 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 We wawl and cry.
Original Text
I will preach to thee: mark. GLOUCESTER. 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 A troop of horse with felt. I'll put't in proof; And when I have stolen upon these son-in-laws, Then kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill!
Original Text
*Enter a Gentleman with attendants.* GENTLEMAN. 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; You shall have ransom. Let me have surgeons; I am cut to th' brains. GENTLEMAN. You shall have anything.
Original Text
LEAR. No seconds? All myself? Why, this would make a man a man of salt To use his eyes for garden water-pots. I will die bravely, like a smug bridegroom. What? I will be jovial! Come, come, I am a king, Masters — know you that? GENTLEMAN. You are a royal one, and we obey you.
Original Text
LEAR. Then there's life in't. Nay, and you get it, You shall get it by running. Sa, sa, sa, sa! *Exit, running, with attendants following.* GENTLEMAN. A sight most pitiful in the meanest wretch, Past speaking of in a king! Thou hast a daughter Who redeems nature from the general curse Which twain have brought her to.
Original Text
EDGAR. Hail, gentle sir. GENTLEMAN. Sir, speed you: what's your will? EDGAR. Do you hear aught, sir, of a battle toward? GENTLEMAN. Most sure and vulgar: Every one hears that, which can distinguish sound.
Original Text
EDGAR. But, by your favour, How near's the other army? GENTLEMAN. Near, and on speedy foot; the main descry Stands on the hourly thought. EDGAR. I thank you, sir: that's all. GENTLEMAN. Though that the Queen on special cause is here, Her army is moved on. *Exit.* EDGAR. I thank you, sir.
Original Text
GLOUCESTER. You ever-gentle gods, take my breath from me; Let not my worser spirit tempt me again To die before you please. EDGAR. Well pray you, father. GLOUCESTER. Now, good sir, what are you? EDGAR. 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. GLOUCESTER. Hearty thanks: The bounty and the benison of heaven To boot, and boot.
Original Text
*Enter Oswald the Steward.* OSWALD. A proclaimed prize! Most happy! That eyeless head of thine was first framed flesh To raise my fortunes. Thou old, unhappy traitor, Briefly thyself remember: the sword is out That must destroy thee. GLOUCESTER. Now let thy friendly hand Put strength enough to't.
Original Text
OSWALD. Wherefore, bold peasant, Darest thou support a published traitor? Hence, Lest that the infection of his fortune take Like hold on thee. Let go his arm. EDGAR. Chill not let go, zir, without vurther 'casion. OSWALD. Let go, slave, or thou diest!
Original Text
EDGAR. Good gentleman, go your gate, and let poor volk pass: and 'chud ha' been zwaggered out of my life, 'twould not ha' been zo long as 'tis by a fortnight. Nay, come not near th' old man: keep out, che vor' ye, or I'll try whether your costard or my ballow be the harder; chill be plain with you. OSWALD. Out, dunghill! EDGAR. Chill pick your teeth, zir. Come, no matter vor your foynes. *They fight, and Edgar knocks Oswald down.*
Original Text
OSWALD. 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! Death! *He dies.* EDGAR. I know thee well: a serviceable villain, As duteous to the vices of thy mistress As badness would desire.
Original Text
GLOUCESTER. What, is he dead? EDGAR. Sit you down, father; rest you. Let's see these pockets: the letters that he speaks of May be my friends. He's dead; I am only sorry He had no other deathsman. Let us see: Leave, gentle wax; and, manners, blame us not To know our enemies' minds, we rip their hearts; Their papers, is more lawful. *He opens and reads a letter.*
Original Text
*Letter:* Let our reciprocal vows be remembered. You have many opportunities to cut him off: if your will want not, time and place will be fruitfully offered. There is nothing done, if he return the conqueror: then am I the prisoner, and his bed my gaol; from the loathed warmth whereof deliver me, and supply the place for your labour. Your — wife, so I would say — affectionate servant, and for you her own for venture, Gonerill.
Original Text
EDGAR. O undistinguished space of woman's will! A plot upon her virtuous husband's life, 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 Of the death-practised Duke. For him 'tis well That of thy death and business I can tell.
Original Text
GLOUCESTER. The King is mad: how stiff is my vile sense, That I stand up and have ingenious feeling Of my huge sorrows! Better I were distract, So should my thoughts be severed from my griefs, And woes by wrong imaginations lose The knowledge of themselves. *Drum afar off.* EDGAR. Give me your hand: Far off methinks I hear the beaten drum. Come, father, I'll bestow you with a friend. *Exeunt.*