Текст книги "William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition"

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EDGAR

A most poor man, made lame by 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 ⌈rising⌉ Hearty thanks.

The bounty and the benison of heaven

To send thee boot to boot.

Enter Oswald the steward

OSWALD A proclaimed prize! Most happy!

That eyeless head of thine was first framed flesh

To raise my fortunes. Thou most unhappy traitor,

Briefly thyself remember. The sword is out

That must destroy thee.

GLOUCESTER Now let thy friendly hand

Put strength enough to’t.

OSWALD (to Edgar) Wherefore, bold peasant,

Durst thou support a published traitor? Hence,

Lest the infection of his fortune take

Like hold on thee. Let go his arm.

EDGAR ‘Chill not let go, sir, without ’cagion.

OSWALD Let go, slave, or thou diest.

EDGAR Good gentleman, go your gate. Let poor volk pass. An ‘chud have been swaggered out of my life, it would not have been so long by a vortnight. Nay, come not near the old man. Keep out, ’che vor’ ye, or I’ll try whether your costard or my baton be the harder; I’ll be plain with you.

OSWALD Out, dunghill!

They fight

EDGAR ’Chill pick your teeth, sir. Come, no matter for your foins.

⌈Edgar knocks him down⌉

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 British 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.

GLOUCESTER What, is he dead?

EDGAR Sit you down, father. Rest you.

Gloucester sits

Let’s see his pockets. These letters that he speaks of

May be my friends. He’s dead; I am only sorrow

He had no other deathsman. Let us see.

Leave, gentle wax; and manners, blame us not.

To know our enemies’ minds we’d rip their hearts;

Their papers is more lawful.

He reads a letter

‘Let your 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 jail, from the loathed

warmth whereof, deliver me, and supply the place for

your labour.

Your—wife, so I would say—your affectionate

servant, and for you her own for venture,

Gonoril.’

O indistinguished space of woman’s wit—

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.

[Exit with the body]

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 distraught;

So should my thoughts be fenced from my griefs,

And woes by wrong imaginations lose

The knowledge of themselves.

A drum afar off. [Enter Edgar]

EDGAR Give me your hand.

Far off methinks I hear the beaten drum.

Come, father, I’ll bestow you with a friend.

Exit Edgar guiding Gloucester

Sc. 21 ⌈Soft music.⌉ Enter Queen Cordelia, and the Earl of Kent, disguised

CORDELIA 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 acknowledged, madam, is o’erpaid.

All my reports go with the modest truth,

Nor more, nor clipped, but so.

CORDELIA Be better suited.

These weeds are memories of those worser hours.

I prithee put them off.

KENT Pardon me, dear madam.

Yet to be known shortens my made intent.

My boon I make it that you know me not

Till time and I think meet.

CORDELIA Then be’t so, my good lord.

[Enter the Doctor and First Gentleman]

How does the King?

DOCTOR Madam, sleeps still.

CORDELIA O you kind gods,

Cure this great breach in his abused nature;

The untuned and hurrying senses O wind up

Of this child-changed father!

DOCTOR So please your majesty

That we may wake the King? He hath slept long.

CORDELIA

Be governed by your knowledge, and proceed

I’th’ sway of your own will. Is he arrayed?

[FIRST GENTLEMAN]

Ay, madam. In the heaviness of his sleep

We put fresh garments on him.

[DOCTOR]

Good madam, be by when we do awake him.

I doubt not of his temperance.

CORDELIA Very well.

DOCTOR

Please you draw near. Louder the music there!

King Lear is [discovered] asleep

CORDELIA

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!

CORDELIA

Had you not been their father, these white flakes

Had challenged pity of them. Was this a face

To be exposed against the warring winds,

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 injurer’s mean‘st dog,

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,

’Tis wonder that thy life and wits at once

Had not concluded all! (To the Doctor) He wakes.

Speak to him.

DOCTOR Madam, do you; ’tis fittest.

CORDELIA (to Lear)

How does my royal lord? How fares your majesty?

LEAR

You do me wrong to take me out o’th’ 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.

CORDELIA Sir, know me.

LEAR

You’re a spirit, I know. Where did you die?

CORDELIA (to the Doctor) Still, still far wide!

DOCTOR

He’s scarce awake. Let him alone a while.

LEAR

Where have I been? Where am I? Fair daylight?

I am mightily abused. I should e’en 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 assured

Of my condition.

CORDELIA (kneeling) 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.

I am a very foolish, fond old man,

Fourscore and upward, and to deal plainly,

I fear I am not in my perfect mind.

Methinks I should know you, and know this man;

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,

For as I am a man, I think this lady

To be my child, Cordelia.

CORDELIA And so I am.

LEAR

Be your tears wet? Yes, faith. I pray, weep not.

If you have poison for me, I will drink it.

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.

CORDELIA No cause, no cause.

LEAR Am I in France?

KENT In your own kingdom, sir.

LEAR Do not abuse me.

DOCTOR

Be comforted, good madam. The great rage

You see is cured in him, and yet it is danger

To make him even o’er the time he has lost.

Desire him to go in; trouble him no more

Till further settling.

CORDELIA (to Lear) Will’t please your highness walk?

LEAR You must bear with me.

Pray now, forget and forgive. I am old

And foolish. Exeunt all but Kent and [First] Gentleman

[FIRST] GENTLEMAN Holds it true, sir, that the Duke Of Cornwall was so slain?

KENT Most certain, sir.

[FIRST] GENTLEMAN

Who is conductor of his people?

KENT As ’tis said,

The bastard son of Gloucester.

[FIRST] GENTLEMAN 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 90

Approach apace.

[FIRST] GENTLEMAN The arbitrement is

Like to be bloody. Fare you well, sir. Exit

KENT

My point and period will be throughly wrought,

Or well or ill, as this day’s battle’s fought. Exit

Sc. 22 Enter Edmund, Regan, and their powers

EDMUND

Know of the Duke if his last purpose hold,

Or whether since he is advised by aught

To change the course. He’s full of abdication

And self-reproving. Bring his constant pleasure.

Exit one or more

REGAN

Our sister’s man is certainly miscarried.

EDMUND

’Tis to be doubted, madam.

REGAN Now, sweet lord,

You know the goodness I intend upon you.

Tell me but truly—but then speak the truth-

Do you not love my sister?

EDMUND Ay: honoured love.

REGAN

But have you never found my brother’s way

To the forfended place?

EDMUND That thought abuses you.

REGAN I am doubtful

That you have been conjunct and bosomed with her,

As far as we call hers.

EDMUND No, by mine honour, madam.

REGAN

I never shall endure her. Dear my lord,

Be not familiar with her.

EDMUND Fear me not.

She and the Duke her husband—

Enter the Duke of Albany and Gonoril with troops

GONORIL (aside)

I had rather lose the battle than that sister

Should loosen him and me.

ALBANY (to Regan)

Our very loving sister, well bemet,

For this I hear: the King is come to his daughter,

With others whom the rigour of our state

Forced to cry out. Where I could not be honest

I never yet was valiant. For this business,

It touches us as France invades our land;

Yet bold’s the King, with others whom I fear.

Most just and heavy causes make oppose.

EDMUND

Sir, you speak nobly.

REGAN Why is this reasoned? 30

GONORIL

Combine together ’gainst the enemy;

For these domestic poor particulars

Are not to question here.

ALBANY

Let us then determine with the ensign of war

On our proceedings.

EDMUND I shall attend you

Presently at your tent. [Exit with his powers]

REGAN Sister, you’ll go with us?

GONORIL No.

REGAN

’Tis most convenient. Pray you go with us.

GONORIL [aside]

O ho, I know the riddle! (To Regan) I will go.

Enter Edgar disguised as a peasant

EDGAR (to Albany)

If e’er your grace had speech with man so poor, 40

Hear me one word.

ALBANY (to the others) I’ll overtake you.

Exeunt all but Albany and Edgar

Speak.

EDGAR

Before you fight the battle, ope this letter.

If you have victory, let the trumpet sound

For him that brought it. Wretched though I seem,

I can produce a champion that will prove

What is avouchèd there. If you miscarry,

Your business of the world hath so an end.

Fortune love you—

ALBANY Stay till I have read the letter.

EDGAR I was forbid it. 50

When time shall serve, let but the herald cry,

And I’ll appear again.

ALBANY Why, fare thee well.

I will o’erlook the paper. Exit Edgar

Enter Edmund

EDMUND

The enemy’s in view; draw up your powers. 55

He [offers] Albany a paper

Here is the guess of their great strength and forces

By diligent discovery; but your haste

Is now urged on you.

ALBANY We will greet the time. Exit

EDMUND

To both these sisters have I sworn my love,

Each jealous of the other as the stung

Are of the adder. Which of them shall I take?—

Both?—one?—or neither? Neither can be enjoyed

If both remain alive. To take the widow

Exasperates, makes mad, her sister Gonoril,

And hardly shall I carry out my side,

Her husband being alive. Now then, we’ll use

His countenance for the battle, which being done,

Let her that would be rid of him devise

His speedy taking off. As for his mercy

Which he intends to Lear and to Cordelia,

The battle done, and they within our power,

Shall never see his pardon; for my state

Stands on me to defend, not to debate. Exit

Sc. 23 Alarum. The powers of France pass over the stage ⌈led by⌉ Queen Cordelia with her father in her hand. Then enter Edgar disguised as a peasant, guiding the blind Duke of Gloucester

EDGAR

Here, father, take the shadow of this bush

For your good host; pray that the right may thrive.

If ever I return to you again

I’ll bring you comfort. Exit

GLOUCESTER Grace go with you, sir.

Alarum and retreat. Enter Edgar

EDGAR

Away, old man. Give me thy hand. Away.

King Lear hath lost, he and his daughter ta’en.

Give me thy hand. Come on.

GLOUCESTER

No farther, sir. A man may rot even here.

EDGAR

What, in ill thoughts again? Men must endure

Their going hence even as their coming hither.

Ripeness is all. Come on. Exit Edgar guiding Gloucester

Sc. 24 Enter Edmund with King Lear and Queen Cordelia prisoners, a Captain, and soldiers

EDMUND

Some officers take them away. Good guard

Until their greater pleasures best be known

That are to censure them.

CORDELIA (to Lear) We are not the first

Who with best meaning have incurred the worst.

For thee, oppressed King, am I cast down,

Myself could else outfrown false fortune’s frown.

Shall we not see these daughters and these sisters?

LEAR

No, no. Come, let’s away to prison.

We two alone will sing like birds i’th’ cage.

When thou dost ask me blessing, I’ll kneel down

And ask of thee forgiveness; so we’ll live,

And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh

At gilded butterflies, and hear poor rogues

Talk of court news, and we’ll talk with them too—

Who loses and who wins, who’s in, who’s out,

And take upon ’s the mystery of things

As if we were God’s spies; and we’ll wear out

In a walled prison packs and sects of great ones

That ebb and flow by th’ moon.

EDMUND (to soldiers) Take them away.

LEAR (to Cordelia)

Upon such sacrifices, my Cordelia,

The gods themselves throw incense. Have I caught

thee?

He that parts us shall bring a brand from heaven

And fire us hence like foxes. Wipe thine eyes.

The goodyear shall devour ‘em, flesh and fell,

Ere they shall make us weep. We’ll see ’em starve

first. Come.

Exeunt all but Edmund and the Captain

EDMUND Come hither, captain. Hark.

Take thou this note. Go follow them to prison.

One step I have advanced thee; if thou dost

As this instructs thee, thou dost make thy way

To noble fortunes. Know thou this: that men

Are as the time is. To be tender-minded

Does not become a sword. Thy great employment

Will not bear question. Either say thou’lt do’t,

Or thrive by other means.

CAPTAIN I’ll do’t, my lord.

EDMUND

About it, and write ‘happy’ when thou hast done.

Mark, I say, instantly, and carry it so

As I have set it down.

CAPTAIN I cannot draw a cart,

Nor eat dried oats. If it be man’s work, I’ll do’t. Exit Enter the Duke of Albany, the two ladies Gonoril and Regan, [another Captain,] and others

ALBANY (to Edmund)

Sir, you have showed today your valiant strain,

And fortune led you well. You have the captives

That were the opposites of this day’s strife.

We do require then of you, so to use them

As we shall find their merits and our safety

May equally determine.

EDMUND Sir, I thought it fit

To send the old and miserable King

To some retention and appointed guard,

Whose age has charms in it, whose title more,

To pluck the common bosom on his side

And turn our impressed lances in our eyes

Which do command them. With him I sent the Queen,

My reason all the same, and they are ready

Tomorrow, or at further space, to appear

Where you shall hold your session. At this time

We sweat and bleed. The friend hath lost his friend,

And the best quarrels in the heat are cursed

By those that feel their sharpness.

The question of Cordelia and her father

Requires a fitter place.

ALBANY Sir, by your patience, I hold you but a subject of this war, Not as a brother.

REGAN That’s as we list to grace him.

Methinks our pleasure should have been demanded

Ere you had spoke so far. He led our powers,

Bore the commission of my place and person,

The which immediate may well stand up

And call itself your brother.

GONORIL Not so hot.

In his own grace he doth exalt himself

More than in your advancement.

REGAN In my right

By me invested, he compeers the best.

GONORIL

That were the most if he should husband you.

REGAN

Jesters do oft prove prophets.

GONORIL Holla, holla—

That eye that told you so looked but asquint.

REGAN

Lady, I am not well, else I should answer From a full-flowing stomach. (To Edmund) General, Take thou my soldiers, prisoners, patrimony. Witness the world that I create thee here My lord and master.

GONORIL Mean you to enjoy him, then?

ALBANY

The let-alone lies not in your good will.

EDMUND

Nor in thine, lord.

ALBANY Half-blooded fellow, yes.

EDMUND

Let the drum strike and prove my title good.

ALBANY

Stay yet, hear reason. Edmund, I arrest thee

On capital treason, and in thine attaint

This gilded serpent. (To Regan) For your claim, fair

sister,

I bar it in the interest of my wife.

’Tis she is subcontracted to this lord,

And I, her husband, contradict the banns.

If you will marry, make your love to me.

My lady is bespoke.—Thou art armed, Gloucester.

If none appear to prove upon thy head

Thy heinous, manifest, and many treasons,

[He throws down a glove]

There is my pledge. I’ll prove it on thy heart,

Ere I taste bread, thou art in nothing less

Than I have here proclaimed thee.

REGAN Sick, O sick!

GONORIL (aside) If not, I’ll ne’er trust poison.

EDMUND (to Albany, [throwing down a glove])

There’s my exchange. What in the world he is

That names me traitor, villain-like he lies.

Call by thy trumpet. He that dares, approach;

On him, on you—who not?—I will maintain

My truth and honour firmly.

ALBANY A herald, ho!

EDMUND A herald, ho, a herald!

ALBANY

Trust to thy single virtue, for thy soldiers,

All levied in my name, have in my name

Took their discharge.

REGAN This sickness grows upon me.

ALBANY

She is not well. Convey her to my tent.

Exit one or more with Regan

[Enter a Herald and a trumpeter]

Come hither, herald. Let the trumpet sound,

And read out this.

SECOND CAPTAIN Sound, trumpet!

Trumpeter sounds

HERALD (reads) ‘If any man of quality or degree in the host of the army will maintain upon Edmund, supposed Earl of Gloucester, that he’s a manifold traitor, let him appear at the third sound of the trumpet. He is bold in his defence.’

EDMUND Sound! (Trumpeter sounds) Again!

Enter Edgar, armed, at the third sound, a trumpeter before him

ALBANY (to the Herald)

Ask him his purposes, why he appears

Upon this call o’th’ trumpet.

HERALD (to Edgar) What are you?

Your name and quality, and why you answer

This present summons?

EDGAR O, know my name is lost,

By treason’s tooth bare-gnawn and canker-bit.

Yet ere I move’t, where is the adversary

I come to cope withal?

ALBANY Which is that adversary?

EDGAR

What’s he that speaks for Edmund, Earl of Gloucester?

EDMUND

Himself. What sayst thou to him?

EDGAR Draw thy sword,

That if my speech offend a noble heart

Thy arm may do thee justice. Here is mine.

He draws his sword

Behold, it is the privilege of my tongue,

My oath, and my profession. I protest,

Maugre thy strength, youth, place, and eminence,

Despite thy victor-sword and fire-new fortune,

Thy valour and thy heart, thou art a traitor,

False to thy gods, thy brother, and thy father,

Conspirant ‘gainst this high illustrious prince,

And from th’extremest upward of thy head

To the descent and dust beneath thy feet

A most toad-spotted traitor. Say thou no,

This sword, this arm, and my best spirits are bent

To prove upon thy heart, whereto I speak,

Thou liest.

EDMUND In wisdom I should ask thy name,

But since thy outside looks so fair and warlike,

And that thy tongue some say of breeding breathes,

My right of knighthood I disdain and spurn.

Here do I toss those treasons to thy head,

With the hell-hated lie o’erturn thy heart,

Which, for they yet glance by and scarcely bruise,

This sword of mine shall give them instant way

Where they shall rest for ever. Trumpets, speak!

[Flourish.] They fight. Edmund is vanquished

[ALL]

Save him, save him!

GONORIL This is mere practice, Gloucester.

By the law of arms thou art not bound to answer

An unknown opposite. Thou art not vanquished,

But cozened and beguiled.

ALBANY Stop your mouth, dame,

Or with this paper shall I stopple it.

Thou worse than anything, read thine own evil.

Nay, no tearing, lady. I perceive you know’t.

GONORIL

Say if I do, the laws are mine, not thine.

Who shall arraign me for’t?

ALBANY Most monstrous!

Know’st thou this paper?

GONORIL Ask me not what I know.

Exit

ALBANY

Go after her. She’s desperate. Govern her.

Exit one or more

EDMUND

What you have charged me with, that have I done,

And more, much more. The time will bring it out.

’Tis past, and so am I. (To Edgar) But what art thou,

That hast this fortune on me? If thou beest noble,

I do forgive thee.

EDGAR Let’s exchange charity.

I am no less in blood than thou art, Edmund.

If more, the more ignobly thou hast wronged me.

[He takes off his helmet]

My name is Edgar, and thy father’s son.

The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices

Make instruments to scourge us.

The dark and vicious place where thee he got

Cost him his eyes.

EDMUND Thou hast spoken truth.

The wheel is come full circled. I am here.

ALBANY (to Edgar)

Methought thy very gait did prophesy

A royal nobleness. I must embrace thee.

Let sorrow split my heart if I did ever hate

Thee or thy father.

EDGAR Worthy prince, I know’t.

ALBANY Where have you hid yourself?

How have you known the miseries of your father?

EDGAR

By nursing them, my lord. List a brief tale,

And when ‘tis told, O that my heart would burst!

The bloody proclamation to escape

That followed me so near—O, our lives’ sweetness,

That with the pain of death would hourly die

Rather than die at once!—taught me to shift

Into a madman’s rags, to assume a semblance

That very dogs disdained; and in this habit

Met I my father with his bleeding rings,

The precious stones new-lost; became his guide,

Led him, begged for him, saved him from despair;

Never—O father!—revealed myself unto him

Until some half hour past, when I was armed.

Not sure, though hoping, of this good success,

I asked his blessing, and from first to last

Told him my pilgrimage; but his flawed heart—

Alack, too weak the conflict to support—

’Twixt two extremes of passion, joy and grief,

Burst smilingly.

EDMUND This speech of yours hath moved me,

And shall perchance do good. But speak you on—

You look as you had something more to say.

ALBANY

If there be more, more woeful, hold it in,

For I am almost ready to dissolve,

Hearing of this.

EDGAR This would have seemed a period

To such as love not sorrow; but another

To amplify, too much would make much more,

And top extremity.

Whilst I was big in clamour came there in a man

Who, having seen me in my worst estate,

Shunned my abhorred society; but then, finding

Who ’twas that so endured, with his strong arms

He fastened on my neck and bellowed out

As he’d burst heaven; threw him on my father,

Told the most piteous tale of Lear and him

That ever ear received, which in recounting

His grief grew puissant and the strings of life

Began to crack. Twice then the trumpets sounded,

And there I left him tranced.

ALBANY But who was this?

EDGAR

Kent, sir, the banished Kent, who in disguise

Followed his enemy king, and did him service

Improper for a slave.

Enter [Second] Gentleman with a bloody knife

FSECONDl GENTLEMEN Help, help!

ALBANY What kind of help?

What means that bloody knife?

⌈SECOND⌉ GENTLEMAN It’s hot, it smokes. It came even from the heart of—

ALBANY Who, man? Speak.

[SECOND] GENTLEMAN

Your lady, sir, your lady; and her sister

By her is poisonèd—she hath confessed it.

EDMUND

I was contracted to them both; all three

Now marry in an instant.

ALBANY

Produce their bodies, be they alive or dead.

This justice of the heavens, that makes us tremble,

Touches us not with pity.

Enter Kent as himself

EDGAR Here comes Kent, sir.

ALBANY

O, ’tis he; the time will not allow

The compliment that very manners urges.

KENT I am come

To bid my king and master aye good night.

Is he not here?

ALBANY Great thing of us forgot!—

Speak, Edmund; where’s the King, and where’s

Cordelia?

The bodies of Gonoril and Regan are brought in

Seest thou this object, Kent?

KENT Alack, why thus?

EDMUND Yet Edmund was beloved.

The one the other poisoned for my sake,

And after slew herself.

ALBANY Even so.—Cover their faces.

EDMUND

I pant for life. Some good I mean to do,

Despite of my own nature. Quickly send,

Be brief in’t, to th’ castle; for my writ

Is on the life of Lear and on Cordelia.

Nay, send in time.

ALBANY Run, run, O run!

EDGAR

To who, my lord? Who hath the office? Send

Thy token of reprieve.

EDMUND

Well thought on! Take my sword. The captain,

Give it the captain.

ALBANY Haste thee for thy life.

Exit [Second Captain]

EDMUND

He hath commission from thy wife and me

To hang Cordelia in the prison, and

To lay the blame upon her own despair,

That she fordid herself.

ALBANY

The gods defend her!—Bear him hence a while.

Exeunt some with Edmund

Enter King Lear with Queen Cordelia in his arms,

[followed by the Second Captain]

LEAR

Howl, howl, howl, howl! O, you are men of stones.

Had I your tongues and eyes, I would use them so

That heaven’s vault should crack. She’s gone for ever.

I know when one is dead and when one lives.

She’s dead as earth.

[He lays her down]

Lend me a looking-glass.

If that her breath will mist or stain the stone,

Why, then she lives.

KENT Is this the promised end?

EDGAR

Or image of that horror?

ALBANY Fall and cease.

LEAR

This feather stirs. She lives. If it be so,

It is a chance which does redeem all sorrows

That ever I have felt.

KENT [kneeling] Ah, my good master!

LEAR

Prithee, away.

EDGAR w’Tis noble Kent, your friend.

LEAR

A plague upon you, murderous traitors all.

I might have saved her; now she’s gone for ever.—

Cordelia, Cordelia: stay a little. Ha?

What is’t thou sayst?—Her voice was ever soft,

Gentle, and low, an excellent thing in women.—

I killed the slave that was a-hanging thee.

[SECOND] CAPTAIN

’Tis true, my lords, he did.

LEAR Did I not, fellow?

I have seen the day with my good biting falchion

I would have made them skip. I am old now,

And these same crosses spoil me. (To Kent) Who are you?

Mine eyes are not o’ the best, I’ll tell you straight.

KENT

If fortune bragged of two she loved or hated,

One of them we behold.

LEAR Are not you Kent?

KENT

The same, your servant Kent. Where is your servant

Caius?

LEAR

He’s a good fellow, I can tell you that.

He’ll strike, and quickly too. He’s dead and rotten.

KENT

No, my good lord, I am the very man—

LEAR I’ll see that straight.

KENT

That from your first of difference and decay

Have followed your sad steps.

LEAR You’re welcome hither.

KENT

Nor no man else. All’s cheerless, dark, and deadly.

Your eldest daughters have fordone themselves,

And desperately are dead.

LEAR So think I, too.

ALBANY

He knows not what he sees; and vain it is

That we present us to him.

EDGAR

Very bootless.

Enter another Captain

[THIRD] CAPTAIN (to Albany)

Edmund is dead, my lord.

ALBANY That’s but a trifle here.—

You lords and noble friends, know our intent.

What comfort to this great decay may come

Shall be applied; for us, we will resign

During the life of this old majesty

To him our absolute power; (to Edgar and Kent) you

to your rights,

With boot and such addition as your honours

Have more than merited. All friends shall taste

The wages of their virtue, and all foes

The cup of their deservings.—O see, see!

LEAR

And my poor fool is hanged. No, no life.

Why should a dog, a horse, a rat have life,

And thou no breath at all? O, thou wilt come no more.

Never, never, never.—Pray you, undo

This button. Thank you, sir. O, O, O, O!

EDGAR He faints. (To Lear) My lord, my lord!

LEAR Break, heart, I prithee break.

EDGAR Look up, my lord.

KENT

Vex not his ghost. O, let him pass. He hates him

That would upon the rack of this tough world

Stretch him out longer.

[Lear dies]

EDGAR O, he is gone indeed.

KENT

The wonder is he hath endured so long.

He but usurped his life.

ALBANY (to attendants)

Bear them from hence. Our present business

Is to general woe. (To Kent and Edgar) Friends of my

soul, you twain

Rule in this kingdom, and the gored state sustain.

KENT

I have a journey, sir, shortly to go:

My master calls, and I must not say no.

ALBANY

The weight of this sad time we must obey,

Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say.

The oldest have borne most. We that are young

Shall never see so much, nor live so long.

Exeunt carrying the bodies