The dramatic works of William Shakspeare. 1 (1829)

Hark, the duke's trumpets! I know not why he

comes :

All ports I'll bar; the villain shall not 'scape;
The duke must grant me that: besides, his picture
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 means
To make thee capable.'

Enter Cornwall, Regan, and Attendants.
Corn. How now, my noble friend? since I came
hither,

(Which I can call but now,) I have heard strange

news.

crack'd!

Kent. A kuave; a rascal, an eater of broken meats; a base, proud, shallow, beggarly, threeReg. If it be true, all vengeance comes too short, suited, hundred-pound, filthy worsted-stocking Which can pursue the offender. How dost, my lord? knave; a lily-liver'd, action-taking knave; a whoreGlo. O, madam, ny old heart is crack'd, is son, glass-gazing, superserviceable, finical rogue; one-trunk-inheriting slave; one that wouldest be a bawd, in way of good service, and art nothing but the composition of a knave, beggar, coward, pander, 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 addition.

Reg. What, did my father's godson seek your life? He whom my father nam'd? your Edgar?

Glo. O, lady, lady, shame would have it hid?
Reg. Was he not companion with the riotous
knights

That tend upon my father?
Glo.

It is too bad, too bad.-
Edm.

I know not, madam:

Yes, madam, he was.

Reg. No marvel then, though he were ill affected;
'Tis they have put him on the old man's death,
To have the waste and spoil of his revenues.
I have this present evening from my sister
Been well inform'd of them; and with such cautions,
That, if they come to sojourn at my house,
I'll not be there.

Corn.
Edmund, I hear that you have shown your father
A child-like office.

Nor I, assure thee, Regan.

Stew. Why, what a monstrous fellow art thou, thus to rail on one, that is neither known of thee, nor knows thee!

Kent. What a brazen-faced varlet art thou, to deny thou know'st me! Is it two days ago, since I tripped up thy heels, and beat thee before the king? Draw, you rogue: for, though it be night, the moon shines; I'll make a sop o'the moonshine of you: Draw, you whoreson cullionly barbermonger, draw. [Drawing his sword.

Stero. Away; I have nothing to do with thee. Kent. Draw, you rascal: you come with letters against the king; and take Vanity the puppet's part, against the royalty of her father: Draw, you rogue, or I'll so carbonado your shanks :-draw, you rascal; come your ways.

Stew. Help, ho! murder! help!

Kent. Strike, you slave; stand, rogue, stand; you neat slave, strike. [Beating him.

Stew. Help, ho! murder! murder!

Enter Edmund, Cornwall, Regan, Gloster, and

Servants.

Part.

Edm. How now? what's the matter
Kent. With you, goodman boy, if you please;
come, I'll flesh you; come on, young master.
Glo. Weapons! arms! What's the matter here?
Corn. Keep peace, upon your lives;

He dies that strikes again: What is the matter?
Reg. The messengers from our sister and the
king.

Corn. What is your difference? speak.
Stew. I am scarce in breath, my lord.

Kent. No marvel, you have so bestirred your valour. You cowardly rascal, nature disclaims in thee; a tailor made thee.

Corn. Thou art a strange fellow: a tailor make a man?

Kent. Ay, a tailor, sir; a stone-cutter, or a painter, could not have made him so ill, though they had been but two hours at the trade.

Corn. Speak vet, how grew your quarrel?
Stew. This ancient ruffian, sir, whose life I have
spar'd,

At suit of his grey beard,

Kent. Thou whoreson zed! thou unnecessary

Stew. Good dawning to thee, friend: Art of the letter!-My lord, if you will give me leave, I will

house?

(1) i. e. Capable of succeeding to my land. Betray. (5) Wicked purpose. (4) Weight,

tread this unbolted' villain into morter, and daub

(5) Titles. (6) A character in the old moralities. (7) Unrefined.

the wall of a jakes' with him.-Spare my grey | Drew on me here.

beard, you wagtail?

Corn. Peace, sirrah!

You beastly knave, know you no reverence?
Kent. Yes, sir; but anger has a privilege.
Corn. Why art thou angry?

Kent. That such a slave as this should wear a
sword,

Who wears no honesty. Such smiling rogues as these,

Like rats, oft bite the holy cords atwain,

Kent. None of these rogues, and cowards,
But Ajax is their fool."
Corn.

Fetch forth the stocks, ho!
You stubborn ancient knave, you reverend brag-
gart,
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 respect, show too bold malice
Stocking his messenger.

Which are too intrinse t'unloose: smooth every Against the grace and person of my master,

passion

That in the natures of their lords rebels;
Bring oil to fire, snow to their colder moods;
Renege, affirin, and turn their halcyon beaks
With every gale and vary of their masters,
As knowing nought, like dogs, but following.-
A plague upon your epileptic visage!
Smile you my speeches, as I were a fool?
Goose, if I had you upon Sarum plain,
I'd drive ye cackling home to Camelot."
Corn. What, art thou mad, old fellow/?
Glo.
How fell you out?

Say that.

Kent. No contraries hold more antipathy, Than I and such a knave.

Corn. Why dost thou call him knave? What's his offence?

Kent. His countenance likes me not.

Corn.

Fetch forth the stocks: As I've life and honour, there shall he sit till noon. Reg. Till noon! till night, my lord; and all night

too.

Kent. Why, madam, if I were your father's dog,
You should not use me so.
Reg.

Sir, being his knave, I will.
[Stocks brought out.
Corn. This is a fellow of the self-same colour
Our sister peaks of :-Come, bring away the stocks.
Glo. Let me beseech your grace not to do so:
His fault is much, and the good king his master
Will check him for't: your purpos'd low correction
Is such, as basest and contemned'st wretches,
For pilferings, and most common trespasses,
Are punish'd with the king must take it ill,
That he's so slightly valued in his messenger,

Corn. No more, perchance, does mine, or his, or Should have him thus restrain'd.

Harbour more craft, and more corrupter ends,
Than twenty silly' ducking observants,
That stretch their duties nicely.

Kent. Sir, in good sooth, in sincere verity,
Under the allowance of your grand aspéct,
Whose influence, like the wreath of radiant fire
On flickering Phoebus' front,-
Corn.

What mean'st by this?
Kent. To go out of my dialect, which you dis-
commend so much. I know, sir, I am no flatterer:
he that beguiled you, in a plain accent, was a plain
knave; which, for my part, I will not be, though
should win your displeasure to entreat me to it.
Corn. What was the offence you gave him?
Stew.
Never any:

It pleas'd the king his master, very late,
To strike at me, upon his misconstruction;
When he, conjunct, and flattering his displeasure,
Tripp'd me behind; being down, insulted, rail'd,
And put upon him such a deal of man,
That worthy'd him, got praises of the king
For him attempting who was self-subdu'd;
And, in the fleshment of this dread exploit,

Corn.
I'll answer that.
Reg. My sister may receive it much more worse,
To have her gentleman abus'd, assaulted,
For following her affairs.--Put in his legs.

[Kent is put in the stocks. [Exeunt Regan and Cornwall. Glo. I am sorry for thee, friend; 'tis the duke's pleasure,

Come, my good lord; away.

Whose disposition, all the world well knows,
Will not be rubb'd, nor stopp'd: I'll entreat for
thee.

Kent. Pray do not, sir: I have watch'd, and
travell'd hard;

Some time I shall sleep out, the rest I'll whistle.
A good man's fortune may grow out at heels:
Give you good morrow!

Glo. The duke's to blame in this; 'twill be ill
taken.
[Exit.
Kent. Good king, that must approve the common

saw !9

Thou out of heaven's benediction com'st
To the warm sun!

Approach, thou beacon to this under globe,
That by thy comfortable beams I may
Peruse this letter!-Nothing almost sees miracles,
But misery;-I know 'tis from Cordelia;
Who hath most fortunately been inform'd
Of my obscured course; and shall find time
From this enormous state,-seeking to give
Losses their remedies :-All weary and o'erwatch'd,
Take vantage, heavy eyes, not to behold
This shameful lodging.

Fortune, good night; smile once more; turn thy
wheel!
[He sleeps.

SCENE III-A part of the heath.
Edgar.

Edg. I heard myself proclaim'd;

Enter

(6) i. e. Pleases me not. (7) Simple or rustic.
(8) i. e. Ajax is a fool to them.
(9) Saying or proverb.

And, by the happy hollow of a tree,
Escap'd the hunt. No port is free; no place,
That guard, and most unusual vigilance,
Does not attend my taking. While I may 'scape,
I will preserve myself: and am bethought
To take the basest and most poorest shape,
That ever penury, in contempt of inan,
Brought near to beast: my face I'll grime with filth;
Blanket my loins; elf all my hair in knots;
And with presented nakedness outface
The winds, and persecutions of the sky.
The country gives me proof and precedent
Of Bedlam beggars, who, with roaring voices,
Strike in their numb'd and mortified bare arms
Pins, wooden pricks, nails, sprigs of rosemary;
And with this horrible object, from low farms,
Poor pelting villages, sheep-cotes and mills,
Sometime with lunatic bans, sometime with pray-
ers,

Enforce their charity.-Poor Turlygood! poor Tom!
That's something yet;-Edgar I nothing am. [Ex.
SCENE IV.-Before Gloster's castle. Enter
Lear, Fool, and Gentleman.

Lear. 'Tis strange, that they should so depart from home,

And not send back my messenger.

Gent.

As I learn'd,

The night before there was no purpose in them

Of this remove.

Kent.

Lear. How!

Hail to thee, noble master!

Mak'st thou this shame thy pastime ? Kent. No, my lord. Fool. Ha, ha; look! he wears cruel garters! Horses are tied by the heads; dogs, and bears, by the neck; monkeys by the loins, and men by the legs: when a man is over-lusty at legs, then he wears wooden nether-stocks."

Lear. What's he, that hath so much thy place

mistook

murder,

To do upon respect such violent outrage:
Resolve me, with all modest haste, which way
Thou might'st deserve, or they impose, this usage,
Coming from us.

Kent.
My lord, when at their home
I did commend your highness' letters to them,
Ere I was risen from the place that show'd
My duty kneeling, came there a reeking post,
Stew'd in his haste, half breathless, panting forth
From Goneril his mistress, salutations;
Deliver'd letters, spite of intermission,
Which presently they read: on whose contents,
They summon'd up their meiny, straight took

horse;

(1) Hair thus knotted, was supposed to be the work of elves and fairies in the night. (2) Skewers. (3) Curses. (4) A quibble on crewel, worsted.

Commanded me to follow, and attend
The leisure of their answer; gave me cold looks:
And meeting here the other messenger,
Whose welcome, I perceiv'd, had poison'd mine,
(Being the very fellow that of late

Display'd so saucily against your highness,)
Having more man than wit about me, drew;
He rais'd 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 way. Fathers, that wear rags,

Do make their children blind;
But fathers, that bear bags,
Shall see their children kind.
Fortune, that arrant whore,

Ne'er turns the key to the poor.

But, for all this, thou shalt have as many dolours for thy daughters, as thou canst tell in a year. Lear. O, how this mother swells up toward my

heart!

Hysterica passio! down, thou climbing sorrow,
Thy element's below!-Where is this daughter?.
Kent. With the earl, sir, here within.
Lear.
Follow me not;

Stay here.

[Erit.

Gent. Made you no more offence than what you

speak of?

Kent. None.

How chance the king comes with so small a train?
Fool. An thou hadst been set i'the stocks for
that question, thou hadst well deserved it.
Kent. Why, fool?

Fool. We'll set thee to school to an ant, to teach thee there's no labouring in the winter. All that follow their noses are led by their eyes, but blind men; and there's not a nose among twenty, but can smell him that's stinking. Let go thy hold, when a great wheel runs down a hill, lest it break thy neck with following it; but the great one that goes up the hill, let him draw thee after. When a wise man gives thee better counsel, give me mine again: I would have none but knaves follow it, since a fool gives it.

That, sir, which serves and seeks for gain,
And follows but for form,

Will pack, when it begins to rain,

And leave thee in the storm.

But I will tarry, the fool will stay,
And let the wise man fly :

The knave turns fool, that runs away;
The fool no knave, perdy.
Kent. Where learn'd you this, fool?
Fool. Not i'the stocks, fool.

Re-enter Lear, with Gloster.

Lear. Deny to speak with me? They are sick? they are weary?

They have travell'd hard to-night? Mere fetches;
The images of revolt and flying off!
Fetch me a better answer.

Glo.

My dear lord, You know the fiery quality of the duke; How unremoveable and fix'd he is In his own course.

Lear. Vengeance! plague! death! confusion!Fiery? what quality? Why, Gloster, Gloster, I'd speak with the duke of Cornwall, and his wife.

(5) The old word for stockings.

(6) People, train, or retinue.

(7) A quibble between dolours and dollars. (8) The disease called the mother.

service:

Do you but mark how this becomes the house:"
Dear daughter, I confess that I am old;
Age is unnecessary: on my knees I beg,

[Kneeling. That you'll vouchsafe me raiment, bed, and food. Reg. Good sir, no more: these are unsightly tricks : Return you to my sister. Lear.

Never, Regan:

Are they inform'd of this ?-My breath and blood!-
Fiery? the fiery duke?-Tell the hot duke, that-She hath abated me of half my train ;
No, but not yet:-may be, he is not well:
Infirmity doth still neglect all office,
Whereto our health is bound; we are not ourselves,
When nature, being oppress'd, commands the mind
To suffer with the body: I'll forbear;
And am fallen out with my more headier will,
To take the indispos'd and sickly fit
For the sound man.-Death on my state! wherefore
[Looking on Kent.
Should he sit here? This act persuades me,
That this remotion' of the duke and her
Is practice only. Give me my servant forth:
Go, tell the duke and his wife, I'd speak with them,
Now, presently: bid them come forth and hear me,
Or at their chamber door I'll beat the drum,
Till it cry-Sleep to death.

Look'd black upon me; struck me with her tongue,
Most serpent-like, upon the very heart:-
All the stor'd vengeances of heaven fall
On her ingrateful top! Strike her young bones,
You taking airs, with lameness!
Corn.
Fie, fie, fie!
Lear. You nimble lightnings, dart your blinding
flames

Glo. I'd have all well betwixt you. [Exit.
Lear. O me, my heart, my rising heart!-but,
down.

Fool. Cry to it, nuncle, as the cockney did to the eels, when she put them i'the paste alive; she rapp'd 'em o'the coxcombs with a stick, and cry'd, Down, wantons, down: 'Twas her brother, that in pure kindness to his horse, butter'd the hay.

Enter Cornwall, Regan, Gloster, and Servants.
Lear. Good morrow to you both.
Corn.

Hail to your grace!!
[Kent is set at liberty.
Reg. I am glad to see your highness.
Lear. Regan, I think you are; I know what

Some other time for that.-Beloved Regan,
Thy sister's naught: O Regan, she hath tied
Sharp-tooth'd unkindness, like a vulture, here,
[Points to his heart.
I can scarce speak to thee; thou'lt not believe,
Of how deprav'd a quality- -O Regan!
Reg. I pray you, sir, take patience; I have hope,
You less know how to value her desert,
Than she to scant her duty.

Lear.

Say, how is that?
Reg. I cannot think, my sister in the least
Would fail her obligation: If, sir, perchance,
She have restrained the riots of your followers,
'Tis on such ground, and to such wholesome end,
As clears her from all blame.

Lear. My curses on her!
Reg.
O, sir, you are old;
Nature in you stands on the very verge
Of her confine: you should be rul'd, and led
By some discretion, that discerns your state
Better than you yourself: Therefore, I pray you,
That to our sister you do make return;
Say, you have wrong'd her, sir.
Lear.

Ask her forgiveness?

(1) Removing from their own house. (2) Artifice.

(4) Be wanting in.

(3) Crust of a pre.

Into her scornful eyes! Infect her beauty,
You fen-suck'd fogs, drawn by the powerful sun,
To fall and blast her pride!
O the blest gods!
So will you wish on me, when the rash mood's on.
Lear. No, Regan, thou shalt never have my

Reg.

curse;

Thy tender-hefted nature shall not give
Thee o'er to harshness; her eyes are fierce, but thine
Do comfort, and not burn: 'Tis not in thee
To grudge my pleasures, to cut off my train,
To bandy hasty words, to scant my sizes,"
And, in conclusion, to oppose the bolt
Against my coming in; thou better know'st
The offices of nature, bond of childhood,
Effects of courtesy, dues of gratitude;
Thy half o'the kingdom hast thou not forgot,
Wherein I thee endow'd.
Reg.
Good sir, to the purpose.
[Trumpets within.

Lear. Who put my man i'the stocks?
Corn.

What trumpet's that?

Enter Steward.

Reg. I pray you, father, being weak, seem so. If, till the expiration of your month, You will return and sojourn with my sister, Dismissing half your train, come then to me; am now from home, and out of that provision Which shall be needful for your entertainment. Lear. Return to her, and fifty men dismiss'd? No, rather I abjure all roofs, and choose To wage' against the enmity o'the air; To be a comrade with the wolf and owl,Necessity's sharp pinch!-Return with her? Why, the hot-blooded France, that dowerless took Our youngest born, I could as well be brought To knee his throne, and, squire-like, pension beg To keep base life afoot :-Return with her? Persuade me rather to be slave and sumpter To this detested groom. [Looking on the Steward. Gon. At your choice, sir. Lear. I pr'ythee, daughter, do not make me mad; I will not trouble thee, my child; farewell: We'll no more meet, no more see one another :But yet thou art my flesh, my blood, my daughter; Or, rather, a disease that's in my flesh, Which I must needs call mine: thou art a boil, A plague-sore, an embossed' carbuncle, In my corrupted blood. But I'll not chide thee; Let shame come when it will, I do not call it : I do not bid the thunder-bearer shoot, Nor tell tales of thee to high-judging Jove: Mend when thou canst; be better, at thy leisure: I can be patient; I can stay with Regan; I, and my hundred knights. Reg.

Not altogether so, sir; I look'd not for you yet, nor am provided For your fit welcome: Give ear, sir, to my sister; For those that mingle reason with your passion, Must be content to think you old, and soBut she knows what she does.

Lear.
Is this well spoken now?
Reg. I dare avouch it, sir: What, fifty followers?
Is it not well; What should you need of more?
Yea, of so many? sith that both charge and danger
Speak 'gainst so great a number? How, in one
house,

Should many people, under two commands,
Hold amity? "Tis hard; almost impossible.

Gon. Why might not you, my lord, receive attendance

From those that she calls servants, or from mine? Reg. Why not, my lord? If then they chanc'd

to slack you,

We could control them: If you will come to me
(For now I spy a danger,) I entreat you
To bring but five and twenty; to no more
Will I give place or notice.
Lear. I gave you all-
Reg.
And in good time you gave it.
Lear. Made you my guardians, my depositaries;
But kept a reservation to be follow'd
With such a number: What, must I come to you
With five and twenty, Regan? said you so?
Reg. And speak it again, my lord; no more
with me.

Lear. Those wicked creatures yet do look wellfavour'd,

When others are more wicked; not being the worst, Stands in some rank of praise:-I'll go with thee; [To Goneril.

Thy fifty yet doth double five and twenty,
And thou art twice her love.

Gon.

Here me, my lord; What need you five and twenty, ten, or five,

(1) War. (2) Swelling. (3) Since. (4) Instigate.

Lear. O, reason not the need: our basest beggars Are in the poorest thing superfluous:

Allow not nature more than nature needs,
Man's life is cheap as beast's: thou art a lady;
If only to go warm were gorgeous,

Why, nature needs not what thou gorgeous wear'st, Which scarcely keeps thee warm.-But, for true need,

You heavens, give me that patience, patience I need!

You see me here, you gods, a poor old man,
As full of grief as age; wretched in both!
If it be you that stir these daughters' hearts
Against their father, fool me not so much
To bear it tamely; touch me with noble anger!
0, let not women's weapons, water-drops,
Stain my man's cheeks!-No, you unnatural hags,
I will have such revenges on you both,
That all the world shall-I will do such things,-
What they are, yet I know not; but they shall be
The terrors of the earth. You thing, I'll weep;
No, I'll not weep:-

I have full cause of weeping; but this heart
Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws,
Or ere I'll weep:-0, fool, I shall go mad!

[Exeunt Lear, Gloster, Kent, and Fool. Corn. Let us withdraw, 'twill be a storm. [Storm heard at a distance. This house

Reg.
Is little; the old man and his people cannot
Be well bestow'd.
Gon.
'Tis his own blame; he hath put
Himself from rest, and must needs taste his folly.
Reg. For his particular, I'll receive him gladly,
But not one follower.

Gon.
So am I purpos'd.
Where is my lord of Gloster?

Re-enter Gloster.

Corn. 'Tis best to give him way; he leads himself.

Gon. My lord, entreat him by no means to stay. Glo. Alack, the night comes on, and the bleak winds

Do sorely ruffle; for many miles about
There's scarce a bush.

Reg
O, sir, to wilful men,
The injuries that they themselves procure,
He is attended with a desperate train;
Must be their schoolmasters: Shut up your doors;

And what they may incense him to, being apt
To have his ear abus'd, wisdom-bids fear.

Corn. Shut up your doors, my lord; 'tis a wild night;

My Regan counsels well: come out o'the storm. [Exeunt.

ACT III.

SCENE I-A heath. A storm is heard, with thunder and lightning. Enter Kent and a Gentleman, meeting.

Kent. Who's here, beside foul weather?

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