King Lear

King Lear

ACT IV SCENE II	Before ALBANY's palace.
	Enter GONERIL and EDMUND
GONERIL	Welcome, my lord: I marvel our mild husband
	Not met us on the way.
	Enter OSWALD
	Now, where's your master'?
OSWALD	Madam, within; but never man so changed.	5
	I told him of the army that was landed;
	He smiled 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,	10
	And told me I had turn'd the wrong side out:
	What most he should dislike seems pleasant to him;
	What like, offensive.
GONERIL	To EDMUND
	It is the cowish terror of his spirit,
	That dares not undertake: he'll not feel wrongs	15
	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:
	I must change arms at home, and give the distaff
	Into my husband's hands. This trusty servant	20
	Shall pass between us: ere long you are like to hear,
	If you dare venture in your own behalf,
	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:	25
	Conceive, and fare thee well.
EDMUND	Yours in the ranks of death.
GONERIL	My most dear Gloucester!
	Exit EDMUND
	O, the difference of man and man!
	To thee a woman's services are due:	30
	My fool usurps my body.
OSWALD	Madam, here comes my lord.
	Exit
	Enter ALBANY
GONERIL	I have been worth the whistle.
ALBANY	O Goneril!
	You are not worth the dust which the rude wind	35
	Blows in your face. I fear your disposition:
	That nature, which contemns its origin,
	Cannot be border'd certain in itself;
	She that herself will sliver and disbranch
	From her material sap, perforce must wither	40
	And come to deadly use.
GONERIL	No more; the text is foolish.
ALBANY	Wisdom and goodness to the vile seem vile:
	Filths savour but themselves. What have you done?
	Tigers, not daughters, what have you perform'd?	45
	A father, and a gracious aged man,
	Whose reverence even the head-lugg'd bear would lick,
	Most barbarous, most degenerate! have you madded.
	Could my good brother suffer you to do it?
	A man, a prince, by him so benefited!	50
	If that the heavens do not their visible spirits
	Send quickly down to tame these vile offences,
	It will come,
	Humanity must perforce prey on itself,
	Like monsters of the deep.	55
GONERIL	Milk-liver'd man!
	That bear'st a cheek for blows, a head for wrongs;
	Who hast not in thy brows an eye discerning
	Thine honour from thy suffering; that not know'st
	Fools do those villains pity who are punish'd	60
	Ere they have done their mischief. Where's thy drum?
	France spreads his banners in our noiseless land;
	With plumed helm thy slayer begins threats;
	Whiles thou, a moral fool, sit'st still, and criest
	'Alack, why does he so?'	65
ALBANY	See thyself, devil!
	Proper deformity seems not in the fiend
	So horrid as in woman.
GONERIL	O vain fool!
ALBANY	Thou changed and self-cover'd thing, for shame,	70
	Be-monster not thy feature. Were't my fitness
	To let these hands obey my blood,
	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.	75
GONERIL	Marry, your manhood now--
	Enter a Messenger
ALBANY	What news?
Messenger	O, my good lord, the Duke of Cornwall's dead:
	Slain by his servant, going to put out
	The other eye of Gloucester.	80
ALBANY	Gloucester's eye!
Messenger	A servant that he bred, thrill'd with remorse,
	Opposed against the act, bending his sword
	To his great master; who, thereat enraged,
	Flew on him, and amongst them fell'd him dead;	85
	But not without that harmful stroke, which since
	Hath pluck'd him after.
ALBANY	This shows you are above,
	You justicers, that these our nether crimes
	So speedily can venge! But, O poor Gloucester!	90
	Lost he his other eye?
Messenger	Both, both, my lord.
	This letter, madam, craves a speedy answer;
	'Tis from your sister.
GONERIL	Aside
	But being widow, and my Gloucester with her,	95
	May all the building in my fancy pluck
	Upon my hateful life: another way,
	The news is not so tart.--I'll read, and answer.
	Exit
ALBANY	Where was his son when they did take his eyes?
Messenger	Come with my lady hither.	100
ALBANY	He is not here.
Messenger	No, my good lord; I met him back again.
ALBANY	Knows he the wickedness?
Messenger	Ay, my good lord; 'twas he inform'd against him;
	And quit the house on purpose, that their punishment	105
	Might have the freer course.
ALBANY	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 know'st.	110
	Exeunt