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

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3.1 Storm still. Enter the Earl of Kent disguised and ⌈the First⌉ Gentleman, severally

KENT

Who’s there, besides foul weather?

⌈FIRST⌉ GENTLEMAN

One minded like the weather,

Most unquietly.

KENT

I know you. Where’s the King?

⌈FIRST⌉ GENTLEMAN

Contending with the fretful elements;

Bids the wind blow the earth into the sea

Or swell the curled waters ’bove the main,

That things might change or cease.

KENT

But who is with him?

⌈FIRST⌉ GENTLEMAN

None but the Fool, who labours to outjest

His heart-struck injuries.

KENT

Sir, I do know you,

And dare upon the warrant of my note

Commend a dear thing to you. There is division,

Although as yet the face of it is covered

With mutual cunning, ’twixt Albany and Cornwall,

Who have—as who have not that their great stars

Throned and set high—servants, who seem no less,

Which are to France the spies and speculations

Intelligent of our state. What hath been seen,

Either in snuffs and packings of the Dukes,

Or the hard rein which both of them hath borne

Against the old kind King; or something deeper,

Whereof perchance these are but furnishings—

⌈FIRST⌉ GENTLEMAN

I will talk further with you.

KENT

No, do not.

For confirmation that I am much more

Than my out-wall, open this purse, and take

What it contains. If you shall see Cordelia—

As fear not but you shall—show her this ring

And she will tell you who that fellow is

That yet you do not know. Fie on this storm!

I will go seek the King.

⌈FIRST⌉ GENTLEMAN

Give me your hand. Have you no more to say?

KENT

Few words, but to effect more than all yet:

That when we have found the King—in which your

pain

That way, I’ll this—he that first lights on him

Holla the other.

Exeunt severally

3.2 Storm still. Enter King Lear and his Fool

LEAR

Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! Rage, blow,

You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout

Till you have drenched our steeples, drowned the

cocks!

You sulph‘rous and thought-executing fires,

Vaunt-couriers of oak-cleaving thunderbolts,

Singe my white head; and thou all-shaking thunder,

Strike flat the thick rotundity o’th’ world,

Crack nature’s moulds, all germens spill at once

That makes ingrateful man.

FOOL O nuncle, court holy water in a dry house is better than this rain-water out o’ door. Good nuncle, in, ask thy daughters blessing. Here’s a night pities neither wise men nor fools.

LEAR

Rumble thy bellyful; spit, fire; spout, rain.

Nor rain, wind, thunder, fire are my daughters.

I tax not you, you elements, with unkindness.

I never gave you kingdom, called you children.

You owe me no subscription. Then let fall

Your horrible pleasure. Here I stand your slave,

A poor, infirm, weak and despised old man,

But yet I call you servile ministers,

That will with two pernicious daughters join

Your high-engendered battles ‘gainst a head

So old and white as this. O, ho, ’tis foul!

FOOL He that has a house to put ’s head in has a good head-piece.

⌈Sings⌉

The codpiece that will house

Before the head has any,

The head and he shall louse,

So beggars marry many.

The man that makes his toe

What he his heart should make

Shall of a corn cry woe,

And turn his sleep to wake—

for there was never yet fair woman but she made mouths in a glass.

Enter the Earl of Kent disguised

LEAR

No, I will be the pattern of all patience.

I will say nothing.

KENT Who’s there?

FOOL Marry, here’s grace and a codpiece—that’s a wise man and a fool.

KENT (to Lear)

Alas, sir, are you here? Things that love night

Love not such nights as these. The wrathful skies

Gallow the very wanderers of the dark

And make them keep their caves. Since I was man

Such sheets of fire, such bursts of horrid thunder,

Such groans of roaring wind and rain I never

Remember to have heard. Man’s nature cannot carry

Th’affliction nor the fear.

LEAR

Let the great gods,

That keep this dreadful pother o’er our heads,

Find out their enemies now. Tremble, thou wretch

That hast within thee undivulgèd crimes

Unwhipped of justice; hide thee, thou bloody hand,

Thou perjured and thou simular of virtue

That art incestuous; caitiff, to pieces shake,

That under covert and convenient seeming

Has practised on man’s life; close pent-up guilts,

Rive your concealing continents and cry

These dreadful summoners grace. I am a man

More sinned against than sinning.

KENT

Alack, bare-headed?

Gracious my lord, hard by here is a hovel.

Some friendship will it lend you ‘gainst the tempest.

Repose you there while I to this hard house—

More harder than the stones whereof ’tis raised,

Which even but now, demanding after you,

Denied me to come in—return and force

Their scanted courtesy.

LEAR

My wits begin to turn.

(To Fool) Come on, my boy. How dost, my boy? Art

cold?

I am cold myself.—Where is this straw, my fellow?

The art of our necessities is strange,

And can make vile things precious. Come, your hovel.—

Poor fool and knave, I have one part in my heart

That’s sorry yet for thee.

FOOL ⌈Sings⌉

He that has and a little tiny wit,

With heigh-ho, the wind and the rain,

Must make content with his fortunes fit,

Though the rain it raineth every day.

LEAR

True, boy. (To Kent) Come, bring us to this hovel.

Exeunt Lear and Kent

FOOL This is a brave night to cool a courtesan. I’ll speak a prophecy ere I go:

When priests are more in word than matter;

When brewers mar their malt with water;

When nobles are their tailors’ tutors,

No heretics burned, but wenches’ suitors,

Then shall the realm of Albion

Come to great confusion.

When every case in law is right;

No squire in debt nor no poor knight;

When slanders do not live in tongues,

Nor cutpurses come not to throngs;

When usurers tell their gold i‘th’ field,

And bawds and whores do churches build,

Then comes the time, who lives to see’t,

That going shall be used with feet.

This prophecy Merlin shall make; for I live before his time.

Exit

3.3 Enter the Duke of Gloucester and Edmond

GLOUCESTER Alack, alack, Edmond, I like not this unnatural dealing. When I desired their leave that I might pity him, they took from me the use of mine own house, charged me on pain of perpetual displeasure neither to speak of him, entreat for him, or any way sustain him.

EDMOND Most savage and unnatural!

GLOUCESTER Go to, say you nothing. There is division between the Dukes, and a worse matter than that. I have received a letter this night—‘tis dangerous to be spoken—I have locked the letter in my closet. These injuries the King now bears will be revenged home. There is part of a power already footed. We must incline to the King. I will look him and privily relieve him. Go you and maintain talk with the Duke, that my charity be not of him perceived. If he ask for me, I am ill and gone to bed. If I die for’t—as no less is threatened me—the King my old master must be relieved. There is strange things toward, Edmond; pray you be careful. Exit

EDMOND

This courtesy, forbid thee, shall the Duke

Instantly know, and of that letter too.

This seems a fair deserving, and must draw me

That which my father loses: no less than all.

The younger rises when the old doth fall. Exit

3.4 Enter King Lear, the Earl of Kent disguised, and Lear’s Fool

KENT

Here is the place, my lord. Good my lord, enter.

The tyranny of the open night’s too rough

For nature to endure.

Storm still

LEAR Let me alone.

KENT

Good my lord, enter here.

LEAR

Wilt break my heart?

KENT

I had rather break mine own. Good my lord, enter.

LEAR

Thou think‘st ’tis much that this contentious storm

Invades us to the skin. So ‘tis to thee;

But where the greater malady is fixed,

The lesser is scarce felt. Thou’dst shun a bear,

But if thy flight lay toward the roaring sea

Thou‘dst meet the bear i’th’ mouth. When the mind’s

free,

The body’s delicate. This tempest in my mind

Doth from my senses take all feeling else

Save what beats there: filial ingratitude.

Is it not as this mouth should tear this hand

For lifting food to’t? But I will punish home.

No, I will weep no more.—In such a night

To shut me out? Pour on, I will endure.

In such a night as this! O Regan, Goneril,

Your old kind father, whose frank heart gave all—

O, that way madness lies. Let me shun that.

No more of that.

KENT

Good my lord, enter here.

LEAR

Prithee, go in thyself. Seek thine own ease.

This tempest will not give me leave to ponder

On things would hurt me more; but I’ll go in.

(To Fool) In, boy; go first. ⌈Kneeling⌉ You houseless

poverty—

Nay, get thee in. I’ll pray, and then I’ll sleep.

Exit Fool

Poor naked wretches, wheresoe‘er you are,

That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm,

How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides,

Your looped and windowed raggedness, defend you

From seasons such as these? O, I have ta’en

Too little care of this. Take physic, pomp,

Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel,

That thou mayst shake the superflux to them

And show the heavens more just.

Enter Lear’s Fool, ⌈and Edgar as a Bedlam beggar in the hovel⌉

EDGAR

Fathom and half! Fathom and half! Poor Tom!

FOOL Come not in here, nuncle. Here’s a spirit. Help me, help me!

KENT Give me thy hand. Who’s there? FOOL A spirit, a spirit. He says his name’s Poor Tom.

KENT

What art thou that dost grumble there i’th’ straw?

Come forth.

⌈Edgar comes forth⌉

EDGAR

Away, the foul fiend follows me.

Thorough the sharp hawthorn blow the winds. Hm!

Go to thy cold bed and warm thee.

LEAR

Didst thou give all to thy two daughters,

And art thou come to this?

EDGAR Who gives anything to Poor Tom, whom the foul fiend hath led through fire and through flame, through ford and whirlpool, o’er bog and quagmire; that hath laid knives under his pillow and halters in his pew, set ratsbane by his porridge, made him proud of heart to ride on a bay trotting-horse over four-inched bridges, to course his own shadow for a traitor. Bless thy five wits, Tom’s a-cold! O, do, de, do, de, do de. Bless thee from whirlwinds, star-blasting, and taking. Do Poor Tom some charity, whom the foul fiend vexes. There could I have him now, and there, and there again, and there.

Storm still

LEAR

Has his daughters brought him to this pass?

(To Edgar) Couldst thou save nothing? Wouldst thou

give ’em all?

FOOL Nay, he reserved a blanket, else we had been all shamed.

LEAR (to Edgar)

Now all the plagues that in the pendulous air

Hang fated o’er men’s faults light on thy daughters!

KENT He hath no daughters, sir.

LEAR

Death, traitor! Nothing could have subdued nature

To such a lowness but his unkind daughters.

(To Edgar) Is it the fashion that discarded fathers

Should have thus little mercy on their flesh?

Judicious punishment: ’twas this flesh begot

Those pelican daughters.

EDGAR Pillicock sat on Pillicock Hill; alow, alow, loo, loo.

FOOL This cold night will turn us all to fools and madmen.

EDGAR Take heed o’th’ foul fiend; obey thy parents; keep thy words’ justice; swear not; commit not with man’s sworn spouse; set not thy sweet heart on proud array. Tom’s a-cold.

LEAR What hast thou been?

EDGAR A servingman, proud in heart and mind, that curled my hair, wore gloves in my cap, served the lust of my mistress’ heart, and did the act of darkness with her; swore as many oaths as I spake words, and broke them in the sweet face of heaven; one that slept in the contriving of lust, and waked to do it. Wine loved I deeply, dice dearly, and in woman out-paramoured the Turk. False of heart, light of ear, bloody of hand; hog in sloth, fox in stealth, wolf in greediness, dog in madness, lion in prey. Let not the creaking of shoes nor the rustling of silks betray thy poor heart to woman. Keep thy foot out of brothels, thy hand out of plackets, thy pen from lenders’ books, and defy the foul fiend. Still through the hawthorn blows the cold wind, says suum, mun, nonny. Dauphin, my boy! Boy, cessez; let him trot by.

Storm still

LEAR Thou wert better in a grave than to answer with thy uncovered body this extremity of the skies. Is man no. more than this? Consider him well. Thou owest the worm no silk, the beast no hide, the sheep no wool, the cat no perfume. Ha, here’s three on ’s are sophisticated; thou art the thing itself. Unaccommodated man is no more but such a poor, bare, forked animal as thou art. Off, off, you lendings! Come, unbutton here.

Enter the Duke of Gloucester with a torch

FOOL Prithee, nuncle, be contented. ’Tis a naughty night to swim in. Now a little fire in a wild field were like an old lecher’s heart—a small spark, all the rest on ’s body cold. Look, here comes a walking fire.

EDGAR This is the foul fiend Flibbertigibbet. He begins at curfew and walks till the first cock. He gives the web and the pin, squints the eye, and makes the harelip; mildews the white wheat, and hurts the poor creature of earth. ⌈Sings⌉

Swithin footed thrice the wold,

A met the night mare and her nine foal,

Bid her alight

And her troth plight,

And aroint thee, witch, aroint thee!

KENT (to Lear)

How fares your grace?

LEAR What’s he?

KENT (to Gloucester) Who’s there? What is’t you seek?

GLOUCESTER What are you there? Your names?

EDGAR Poor Tom, that eats the swimming frog, the toad, the tadpole, the wall-newt and the water; that in the fury of his heart, when the foul fiend rages, eats cowdung for salads, swallows the old rat and the ditch-dog, drinks the green mantle of the standing pool; who is whipped from tithing to tithing, and stocked, punished, and imprisoned; who hath had three suits to his back, six shirts to his body,

Horse to ride, and weapon to wear;

But mice and rats and such small deer

Have been Tom’s food for seven long year.

Beware my follower. Peace, Smulkin; peace, thou fiend!

GLOUCESTER (to Lear)

What, hath your grace no better company?

EDGAR

The Prince of Darkness is a gentleman.

Modo he’s called, and Mahu.

GLOUCESTER (to Lear)

Our flesh and blood, my lord, is grown so vile

That it doth hate what gets it.

EDGAR Poor Tom’s a-cold.

GLOUCESTER (to Lear)

Go in with me. My duty cannot suffer

T’obey in all your daughters’ hard commands.

Though their injunction be to bar my doors

And let this tyrannous night take hold upon you,

Yet have I ventured to come seek you out

And bring you where both fire and food is ready.

LEAR

First let me talk with this philosopher.

(To Edgar) What is the cause of thunder?

KENT

Good my lord, take his offer; go into th’ house.

LEAR

I’ll talk a word with this same learned Theban.

(To Edgar) What is your study?

EDGAR

How to prevent the fiend, and to kill vermin.

LEAR

Let me ask you one word in private.

They converse apart

KENT (to Gloucester)

Importune him once more to go, my lord.

His wits begin t’unsettle.

GLOUCESTER

Canst thou blame him?

Storm still

His daughters seek his death. Ah, that good Kent,

He said it would be thus, poor banished man!

Thou sayst the King grows mad; I’ll tell thee, friend,

I am almost mad myself. I had a son,

Now outlawed from my blood; a sought my life

But lately, very late. I loved him, friend;

No father his son dearer. True to tell thee,

The grief hath crazed my wits. What a night’s this!

(To Lear) I do beseech your grace—

LEAR

O, cry you mercy, sir!

(To Edgar) Noble philosopher, your company.

EDGAR

Tom’s a-cold.

GLOUCESTER

In, fellow, there in t’hovel; keep thee warm.

LEAR

Come, let’s in all.

KENT

This way, my lord.

LEAR With him!

I will keep still with my philosopher.

KENT (to Gloucester)

Good my lord, soothe him; let him take the fellow.

GLOUCESTER Take him you on.

KENT ⌈to Edgar⌉

Sirrah, come on. Go along with us.

LEAR (to Edgar)

Come, good Athenian.

GLOUCESTER

No words, no words. Hush.

EDGAR

Child Roland to the dark tower came,

His word was still ‘Fie, fo, and fum;

I smell the blood of a British man.’

Exeunt

3.5 Enter the Duke of Cornwall and Edmond

CORNWALL I will have my revenge ere I depart his house.

EDMOND How, my lord, I may be censured, that nature thus gives way to loyalty, something fears me to think of.

CORNWALL I now perceive it was not altogether your brother’s evil disposition made him seek his death, but a provoking merit set a-work by a reprovable badness in himself. 8

EDMOND How malicious is my fortune, that I must repent to be just! This is the letter which he spoke of, which approves him an intelligent party to the advantages of France. O heavens, that this treason were not, or not I the detector!

CORNWALL Go with me to the Duchess.

EDMOND If the matter of this paper be certain, you have mighty business in hand.

CORNWALL True or false, it hath made thee Earl of Gloucester. Seek out where thy father is, that he may be ready for our apprehension.

EDMOND ⌈aside⌉ If I find him comforting the King, it will stuff his suspicion more fully. (To Cornwall) I will persever in my course of loyalty, though the conflict be sore between that and my blood.

CORNWALL I will lay trust upon thee, and thou shalt find a dearer father in my love. Exeunt

3.6 Enter the Earl of Kent disguised, and the Duke of Gloucester

GLOUCESTER Here is better than the open air; take it thankfully. I will piece out the comfort with what addition I can. I will not be long from you.

KENT All the power of his wits have given way to his impatience; the gods reward your kindness!

Exit Gloucester

Enter King Lear, Edgar as a Bedlam beggar, and Lear’s Fool

EDGAR Frateretto calls me, and tells me Nero is an angler in the lake of darkness. Pray, innocent, and beware the foul fiend.

FOOL Prithee, nuncle, tell me whether a madman be a gentleman or a yeoman.

LEAR A king, a king!

FOOL No, he’s a yeoman that has a gentleman to his son; for he’s a mad yeoman that sees his son a gentleman before him.

LEAR

To have a thousand with red burning spits

Come hissing in upon ’em!

EDGAR Bless thy five wits.

KENT (to Lear)

O, pity! Sir, where is the patience now

That you so oft have boasted to retain?

EDGAR (aside)

My tears begin to take his part so much

They mar my counterfeiting.

LEAR The little dogs and all,

Tray, Blanch, and Sweetheart—see, they bark at me.

EDGAR Tom will throw his head at them.—Avaunt, you curs!

Be thy mouth or black or white,

Tooth that poisons if it bite,

Mastiff, greyhound, mongrel grim,

Hound or spaniel, brach or him,

Bobtail tyke or trundle-tail,

Tom will make him weep and wail;

For with throwing thus my head,

Dogs leapt the hatch, and all are fled.

Do, de, de, de. Sese! Come, march to wakes and fairs

And market towns. Poor Tom, thy horn is dry.

LEAR Then let them anatomize Regan; see what breeds about her heart. Is there any cause in nature that makes these hard-hearts? (To Edgar) You, sir, I entertain for one of my hundred, only I do not like the fashion of your garments. You will say they are Persian; but let them be changed.

KENT

Now, good my lord, lie here and rest a while.

LEAR Make no noise, make no noise. Draw the curtains.

So, so. We’ll go to supper i’th’ morning.

⌈He steps⌉

FOOL And I’ll go to bed at noon.

Enter the Duke of Gloucester

GLOUCESTER (to Kent)

Come hither, friend. Where is the King my master?

KENT

Here, sir, but trouble him not; his wits are gone.

GLOUCESTER

Good friend, I prithee take him in thy arms.

I have o’erheard a plot of death upon him.

There is a litter ready. Lay him in’t

And drive toward Dover, friend, where thou shalt meet

Both welcome and protection. Take up thy master.

If thou shouldst dally half an hour, his life,

With thine and all that offer to defend him,

Stand in assured loss. Take up, take up,

And follow me, that will to some provision

Give thee quick conduct. Come, come away.

Exeunt, ⌈Kent carrying Lear in his arms⌉

3.7 Enter the Duke of Cornwall, Regan, Goneril, Edmond the bastard, and Servants

CORNWALL (to Goneril)

Post speedily to my lord your husband.

Show him this letter. The army of France is landed.

(To Servants) Seek out the traitor Gloucester.

Exeunt some

REGAN Hang him instantly.

GONERIL

Pluck out his eyes.

CORNWALL

Leave him to my displeasure.

Edmond, keep you our sister company.

The revenges we are bound to take upon your traitorous

father are not fit for your beholding. Advise the Duke

where you are going, to a most festinate preparation;

we are bound to the like. Our posts shall be swift and

intelligent betwixt us. (To Goneril) Farewell, dear sister.

(To Edmond) Farewell, my lord of Gloucester.

Enter Oswald the steward

How now, where’s the King?

OSWALD

My lord of Gloucester hath conveyed him hence.

Some five– or six-and-thirty of his knights,

Hot questrists after him, met him at gate,

Who, with some other of the lord’s dependants,

Are gone with him toward Dover, where they boast

To have well-armèd friends.

CORNWALL Get horses for your mistress.

Exit Oswald

GONERIL Farewell, sweet lord, and sister.

CORNWALL

Edmond, farewell.

Exeunt Goneril and Edmond

(To Servants) Go seek the traitor Gloucester.

Pinion him like a thief; bring him before us.

Exeunt other Servants

Though well we may not pass upon his life

Without the form of justice, yet our power

Shall do a curtsy to our wrath, which men

May blame but not control.

Enter the Duke of Gloucester and Servants

Who’s there—the traitor?

REGAN

Ingrateful fox, ’tis he.

CORNWALL (to Servants) Bind fast his corky arms.

GLOUCESTER

What means your graces? Good my friends, consider

You are my guests. Do me no foul play, friends.

CORNWALL (to Servants)

Bind him, I say.

REGAN Hard, hard! O filthy traitor!

GLOUCESTER

Unmerciful lady as you are, I’m none.

CORNWALL (to Servants)

To this chair bind him. (To Gloucester) Villain, thou shalt find—

Regan plucks Gloucester’s beard

GLOUCESTER

By the kind gods, ’tis most ignobly done,

To pluck me by the beard.

REGAN So white, and such a traitor?

GLOUCESTER Naughty lady,

These hairs which thou dost ravish from my chin

Will quicken and accuse thee. I am your host.

With robbers’ hands my hospitable favours

You should not ruffle thus. What will you do?

CORNWALL

Come, sir, what letters had you late from France?

REGAN

Be simple-answered, for we know the truth.

CORNWALL

And what confederacy have you with the traitors

Late footed in the kingdom?

REGAN To whose hands

You have sent the lunatic King. Speak.

GLOUCESTER

I have a letter guessingly set down,

Which came from one that’s of a neutral heart,

And not from one opposed.

CORNWALL

Cunning.

REGAN

And false.

CORNWALL

Where hast thou sent the King?

GLOUCESTER

To Dover.

REGAN

Wherefore to Dover? Wast thou not charged at peril—

CORNWALL

Wherefore to Dover?—Let him answer that.

GLOUCESTER

I am tied to th’ stake, and I must stand the course.

REGAN Wherefore to Dover?

GLOUCESTER

Because I would not see thy cruel nails

Pluck out his poor old eyes, nor thy fierce sister

In his anointed flesh stick boarish fangs.

The sea, with such a storm as his bare head

In hell-black night endured, would have buoyed up

And quenched the stellèd fires.

Yet, poor old heart, he holp the heavens to rain.

If wolves had at thy gate howled that stern time,

Thou shouldst have said ‘Good porter, turn the key;

All cruels I’ll subscribe.’ But I shall see

The winged vengeance overtake such children.

CORNWALL

See’t shalt thou never.—Fettows, hold the chair.—

Upon these eyes of thine I’ll set my foot.

GLOUCESTER

He that will think to live till he be old

Give me some help!—O cruel! O you gods!

⌈Cornwall pulls out one of Gloucester’s eyes and stamps on it⌉

REGAN (to Cornwall)

One side will mock another; th’other, too.

CORNWALL (to Gloucester)

If you see vengeance—

SERVANT

Hold your hand, my lord.

I have served you ever since I was a child,

But better service have I never done you

Than now to bid you hold.

REGAN

How now, you dog!

SERVANT

If you did wear a beard upon your chin

I’d shake it on this quarrel. ⌈To Cornwall⌉ What do

you mean?

CORNWALL My villein!

SERVANT

Nay then, come on, and take the chance of anger.

They draw and fight

REGAN (to another Servant)

Give me thy sword. A peasant stand up thus!

⌈She takes a sword and runs at him behind⌉

SERVANT (to Gloucester)

O, I am slain. My lord, you have one eye left

To see some mischief on him.

⌈Regan stabs him again⌉

O!

He dies

CORNWALL

Lest it see more, prevent it. Out, vile jelly!

He ⌈pulls out⌉ Gloucester’s other eye

Where is thy lustre now?

GLOUCESTER

All dark and comfortless. Where’s my son Edmond?

Edmond, enkindle all the sparks of nature

To quite this horrid act.

REGAN

Out, treacherous villain!

Thou call’st on him that hates thee. It was he

That made the overture of thy treasons to us,

Who is too good to pity thee.

GLOUCESTER

O, my follies! Then Edgar was abused.

Kind gods, forgive me that, and prosper him!

REGAN (to Servants)

Go thrust him out at gates, and let him smell

His way to Dover.

Exit one or more with Gloucester

How is’t, my lord? How look you?

CORNWALL

I have received a hurt. Follow me, lady.

(To Servants) Turn out that eyeless villain. Throw this

slave

Upon the dunghill. Regan, I bleed apace.

Untimely comes this hurt. Give me your arm.

Exeunt ⌈with the body⌉