| 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 jewel. | |
| | 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 | |
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