| ACT IV SCENE VI | Fields near Dover. | |
| [Enter GLOUCESTER, and EDGAR dressed like a peasant] |
| GLOUCESTER | When shall we come to the top of that same hill? |
| EDGAR | You do climb up it now: look, how we labour. |
| GLOUCESTER | Methinks the ground is even. |
| EDGAR | Horrible steep. |
| Hark, do you hear the sea? | 5 |
| GLOUCESTER | No, truly. |
| EDGAR | Why, then, your other senses grow imperfect |
| By your eyes' anguish. |
| GLOUCESTER | So may it be, indeed: |
| Methinks thy voice is alter'd; and thou speak'st | 10 |
| In better phrase and matter than thou didst. |
| EDGAR | You're much deceived: in nothing am I changed |
| But in my garments. |
| GLOUCESTER | Methinks you're better spoken. |
| EDGAR | Come on, sir; here's the place: stand still. How fearful | 15 |
| And dizzy 'tis, to cast one's eyes so low! |
| The crows and choughs that wing the midway air |
| Show scarce so gross as beetles: half way down |
| Hangs one that gathers samphire, dreadful trade! |
| Methinks he seems no bigger than his head: | 20 |
| The fishermen, that walk upon the beach, |
| Appear like mice; and yond tall anchoring bark, |
| Diminish'd to her cock; her cock, a buoy |
| Almost too small for sight: the murmuring surge, |
| That on the unnumber'd idle pebbles chafes, | 25 |
| Cannot be heard so high. I'll look no more; |
| Lest my brain turn, and the deficient sight |
| Topple down headlong. |
| GLOUCESTER | Set me where you stand. |
| EDGAR | Give me your hand: you are now within a foot | 30 |
| Of the extreme verge: for all beneath the moon |
| Would I not leap upright. |
| GLOUCESTER | Let go my hand. |
| Here, friend, 's another purse; in it a jewel |
| Well worth a poor man's taking: fairies and gods | 35 |
| Prosper it with thee! Go thou farther off; |
| Bid me farewell, and let me hear thee going. |
| EDGAR | Now fare you well, good sir. |
| GLOUCESTER | With all my heart. |
| EDGAR | Why I do trifle thus with his despair | 40 |
| Is done to cure it. |
| GLOUCESTER | [Kneeling] O you mighty gods!
|
| This world I do renounce, and, in your sights, |
| Shake patiently my great affliction off: |
| If I could bear it longer, and not fall | 45 |
| To quarrel with your great opposeless wills, |
| My snuff and loathed part of nature should |
| Burn itself out. If Edgar live, O, bless him! |
| Now, fellow, fare thee well. |
| [He falls forward] |
| EDGAR | Gone, sir: farewell. | 50 |
| And yet I know not how conceit may rob |
| The treasury of life, when life itself |
| Yields to the theft: had he been where he thought, |
| By this, had thought been past. Alive or dead? |
| Ho, you sir! friend! Hear you, sir! speak! | 55 |
| Thus might he pass indeed: yet he revives. |
| What are you, sir? |
| GLOUCESTER | Away, and let me die. |
| EDGAR | Hadst thou been aught but gossamer, feathers, air, |
| So many fathom down precipitating, | 60 |
| Thou'dst shiver'd like an egg: but thou dost breathe; |
| Hast heavy substance; bleed'st not; speak'st; art sound. |
| Ten masts at each make not the altitude |
| Which thou hast perpendicularly fell: |
| Thy life's a miracle. Speak yet again. | 65 |
| GLOUCESTER | But have I fall'n, or no? |
| EDGAR | From the dread summit of this chalky bourn. |
| Look up a-height; the shrill-gorged lark so far |
| Cannot be seen or heard: do but look up. |
| GLOUCESTER | Alack, I have no eyes. | 70 |
| Is wretchedness deprived that benefit, |
| To end itself by death? 'Twas yet some comfort, |
| When misery could beguile the tyrant's rage, |
| And frustrate his proud will. |
| EDGAR | Give me your arm: | 75 |
| Up: so. How is 't? Feel you your legs? You stand. |
| GLOUCESTER | Too well, too well. |
| EDGAR | This is above all strangeness. |
| Upon the crown o' the cliff, what thing was that |
| Which parted from you? | 80 |
| GLOUCESTER | A poor unfortunate beggar. |
| EDGAR | As I stood here below, methought his eyes |
| Were two full moons; he had a thousand noses, |
| Horns whelk'd and waved like the enridged sea: |
| It was some fiend; therefore, thou happy father, | 85 |
| Think that the clearest gods, who make them honours |
| Of men's impossibilities, have preserved thee. |
| GLOUCESTER | I do remember now: henceforth I'll bear |
| Affliction till it do cry out itself |
| 'Enough, enough,' and die. That thing you speak of, | 90 |
| I took it for a man; often 'twould say |
| 'The fiend, the fiend:' he led me to that place. |
| EDGAR | Bear free and patient thoughts. But who comes here? |
[Enter KING LEAR, fantastically dressed with wild flowers] |
| The safer sense will ne'er accommodate |
| His master thus. | 95 |
| KING LEAR | No, they cannot touch me for coining; I am the |
| king himself. |
| EDGAR | O thou side-piercing sight! |
| KING LEAR | Nature's above art in that respect. There's your |
| press-money. That fellow handles his bow like a | 100 |
| crow-keeper: draw me a clothier's yard. Look, |
| look, a mouse! Peace, peace; this piece of toasted |
| cheese will do 't. There's my gauntlet; I'll prove |
| it on a giant. Bring up the brown bills. O, well |
| flown, bird! i' the clout, i' the clout: hewgh! | 105 |
| Give the word. |
| EDGAR | Sweet marjoram. |
| KING LEAR | Pass. |
| GLOUCESTER | I know that voice. |
| KING LEAR | Ha! Goneril, with a white beard! They flattered | 110 |
| me like a dog; and told me I had white hairs in my |
| beard ere the black ones were there. To say 'ay' |
| and 'no' to every thing that I said!--'Ay' and 'no' |
| too was no good divinity. When the rain came to |
| wet me once, and the wind to make me chatter; when | 115 |
| the thunder would not peace at my bidding; there I |
| found 'em, there I smelt 'em out. Go to, they are |
| not men o' their words: they told me I was every |
| thing; 'tis a lie, I am not ague-proof. |
| GLOUCESTER | The trick of that voice I do well remember: | 120 |
| Is 't not the king? |
| KING LEAR | Ay, every inch a king: |
| When I do stare, see how the subject quakes. |
| I pardon that man's life. What was thy cause? Adultery? |
| Thou shalt not die: die for adultery! No: | 125 |
| The wren goes to 't, and the small gilded fly |
| Does lecher in my sight. |
| Let copulation thrive; for Gloucester's bastard son |
| Was kinder to his father than my daughters |
| Got 'tween the lawful sheets. | 130 |
| To 't, luxury, pell-mell! for I lack soldiers. |
| Behold yond simpering dame, |
| Whose face between her forks presages snow; |
| That minces virtue, and does shake the head |
| To hear of pleasure's name; | 135 |
| The fitchew, nor the soiled horse, goes to 't |
| With a more riotous appetite. |
| Down from the waist they are Centaurs, |
| Though women all above: |
| But to the girdle do the gods inherit, | 140 |
| Beneath is all the fiends'; |
| There's hell, there's darkness, there's the |
| sulphurous pit, |
| Burning, scalding, stench, consumption; fie, |
| fie, fie! pah, pah! Give me an ounce of civet, | 145 |
| good apothecary, to sweeten my imagination: |
| there's money for thee. |
| GLOUCESTER | O, let me kiss that hand! |
| KING LEAR | Let me wipe it first; it smells of mortality. |
| GLOUCESTER | O ruin'd piece of nature! This great world | 150 |
| Shall so wear out to nought. Dost thou know me? |
| KING LEAR | I remember thine eyes well enough. Dost thou squiny |
| at me? No, do thy worst, blind Cupid! I'll not |
| love. Read thou this challenge; mark but the |
| penning of it. | 155 |
| GLOUCESTER | Were all the letters suns, I could not see one. |
| EDGAR | I would not take this from report; it is, |
| And my heart breaks at it. |
| KING LEAR | Read. |
| GLOUCESTER | What, with the case of eyes? | 160 |
| KING LEAR | O, ho, are you there with me? No eyes in your |
| head, nor no money in your purse? Your eyes are in |
| a heavy case, your purse in a light; yet you see how |
| this world goes. |
| GLOUCESTER | I see it feelingly. | 165 |
| KING LEAR | What, art mad? A man may see how this world goes |
| with no eyes. Look with thine ears: see how yond |
| justice rails upon yond simple thief. Hark, in |
| thine ear: change places; and, handy-dandy, which |
| is the justice, which is the thief? Thou hast seen | 170 |
| a farmer's dog bark at a beggar? |
| GLOUCESTER | Ay, sir. |
| KING LEAR | And the creature run from the cur? There thou |
| mightst behold the great image of authority: a |
| dog's obeyed in office. | 175 |
| Thou rascal beadle, hold thy bloody hand! |
| Why dost thou lash that whore? Strip thine own back; |
| Thou hotly lust'st to use her in that kind |
| For which thou whipp'st her. The usurer hangs the cozener. |
| Through tatter'd clothes small vices do appear; | 180 |
| Robes and furr'd gowns hide all. Plate sin with gold, |
| And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks: |
| Arm it in rags, a pigmy's straw does pierce it. |
| None does offend, none, I say, none; I'll able 'em: |
| Take that of me, my friend, who have the power | 185 |
| To seal the accuser's lips. Get thee glass eyes; |
| And like a scurvy politician, seem |
| To see the things thou dost not. Now, now, now, now: |
| Pull off my boots: harder, harder: so. |
| EDGAR | O, matter and impertinency mix'd! Reason in madness! | 190 |
| KING LEAR | If thou wilt weep my fortunes, take my eyes. |
| I know thee well enough; thy name is Gloucester: |
| Thou must be patient; we came crying hither: |
| Thou know'st, the first time that we smell the air, |
| We wawl and cry. I will preach to thee: mark. | 195 |
| GLOUCESTER | Alack, alack the day! |
| KING LEAR | When we are born, we cry that we are come |
| To this great stage of fools: this a good block; |
| It were a delicate stratagem, to shoe |
| A troop of horse with felt: I'll put 't in proof; | 200 |
| And when I have stol'n upon these sons-in-law, |
| Then, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill! |
| [Enter a Gentleman, with Attendants] |
| Gentleman | O, here he is: lay hand upon him. Sir, |
| Your most dear daughter-- |
| KING LEAR | No rescue? What, a prisoner? I am even | 205 |
| The natural fool of fortune. Use me well; |
| You shall have ransom. Let me have surgeons; |
| I am cut to the brains. |
| Gentleman | You shall have any thing. |
| KING LEAR | No seconds? all myself? | 210 |
| Why, this would make a man a man of salt, |
| To use his eyes for garden water-pots, |
| Ay, and laying autumn's dust. |
| Gentleman | Good sir,-- |
| KING LEAR | I will die bravely, like a bridegroom. What! | 215 |
| I will be jovial: come, come; I am a king, |
| My masters, know you that. |
| Gentleman | You are a royal one, and we obey you. |
| KING LEAR | Then there's life in't. Nay, if you get it, you |
| shall get it with running. Sa, sa, sa, sa. | 220 |
| [Exit running; Attendants follow] |
| Gentleman | A sight most pitiful in the meanest wretch, |
| Past speaking of in a king! Thou hast one daughter, |
| Who redeems nature from the general curse |
| Which twain have brought her to. |
| EDGAR | Hail, gentle sir. | 225 |
| Gentleman | Sir, speed you: what's your will? |
| EDGAR | Do you hear aught, sir, of a battle toward? |
| Gentleman | Most sure and vulgar: every one hears that, |
| Which can distinguish sound. |
| EDGAR | But, by your favour, | 230 |
| How near's the other army? |
| Gentleman | Near and on speedy foot; the main descry |
| Stands on the hourly thought. |
| EDGAR | I thank you, sir: that's all. |
| Gentleman | Though that the queen on special cause is here, | 235 |
| Her army is moved on. |
| EDGAR | I thank you, sir. |
| [Exit Gentleman] |
| GLOUCESTER | You ever-gentle gods, take my breath from me: |
| Let not my worser spirit tempt me again |
| To die before you please! | 240 |
| EDGAR | Well pray you, father. |
| GLOUCESTER | Now, good sir, what are you? |
| EDGAR | A most poor man, made tame to fortune's blows; |
| Who, by the art of known and feeling sorrows, |
| Am pregnant to good pity. Give me your hand, | 245 |
| I'll lead you to some biding. |
| GLOUCESTER | Hearty thanks: |
| The bounty and the benison of heaven |
| To boot, and boot! |
| [Enter OSWALD] |
| OSWALD | A proclaim'd prize! Most happy! | 250 |
| That eyeless head of thine was first framed flesh |
| To raise my fortunes. Thou old unhappy traitor, |
| Briefly thyself remember: the sword is out |
| That must destroy thee. |
| GLOUCESTER | Now let thy friendly hand | 255 |
| Put strength enough to't. |
| [EDGAR interposes] |
| OSWALD | Wherefore, bold peasant, |
| Darest thou support a publish'd traitor? Hence; |
| Lest that the infection of his fortune take |
| Like hold on thee. Let go his arm. | 260 |
| EDGAR | Ch'ill not let go, zir, without vurther 'casion. |
| OSWALD | Let go, slave, or thou diest! |
| EDGAR | Good gentleman, go your gait, and let poor volk |
| pass. An chud ha' bin zwaggered out of my life, |
| 'twould not ha' bin zo long as 'tis by a vortnight. | 265 |
| Nay, come not near th' old man; keep out, che vor |
| ye, or ise try whether your costard or my ballow be |
| the harder: ch'ill be plain with you. |
| OSWALD | Out, dunghill! |
| EDGAR | Ch'ill pick your teeth, zir: come; no matter vor | 270 |
| your foins. |
| [They fight, and 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 | 275 |
| Upon the British party: O, untimely death! |
| [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? | 280 |
| EDGAR | Sit you down, father; rest you |
| Let's see these pockets: the letters that he speaks of |
| May be my friends. He's dead; I am only sorry |
| He had no other death's-man. Let us see: |
| Leave, gentle wax; and, manners, blame us not: | 285 |
| To know our enemies' minds, we'ld rip their hearts; |
| Their papers, is more lawful. |
[Reads] |
| 'Let our reciprocal vows be remembered. You have |
| many opportunities to cut him off: if your will |
| want not, time and place will be fruitfully offered. | 290 |
| There is nothing done, if he return the conqueror: |
| then am I the prisoner, and his bed my goal; from |
| the loathed warmth whereof deliver me, and supply |
| the place for your labour. |
| 'Your--wife, so I would say-- | 295 |
| 'Affectionate servant, |
| 'GONERIL.' |
| O undistinguish'd space of woman's will! |
| A plot upon her virtuous husband's life; |
| And the exchange my brother! Here, in the sands, | 300 |
| 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. | 305 |
| 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 distract: |
| So should my thoughts be sever'd from my griefs, |
| And woes by wrong imaginations lose | 310 |
| The knowledge of themselves. |
| EDGAR | Give me your hand: |
[Drum afar off] |
| Far off, methinks, I hear the beaten drum: |
| Come, father, I'll bestow you with a friend. |
| [Exeunt] |
King Lear Overview