Meantime we shall express our darker purpose
Give me the map there. -- Know that we have divided
In three our kingdom: and 'tis our fast intent
To shake all cares and business from our age
Conferring them on younger strengths, while we
Unburden'd crawl toward death. -- Our son of Cornwall
And you, our no less loving son of Albany
We have this hour a constant will to publish
Our daughters' several dowers, that future strife
May be prevented now. The princes, France and Burgundy
Great rivals in our youngest daughter's love
Long in our court have made their amorous sojourn
And here are to be answer'd. -- Tell me, my daughters
Since now we will divest us both of rule
Interest of territory, cares of state
Which of you shall we say doth love us most
That we our largest bounty may extend
Where nature doth with merit challenge. -- Goneril
Our eldest-born, speak first

Sir, I love you more than words can wield the matter
Dearer than eyesight, space, and liberty
Beyond what can be valu'd, rich or rare
No less than life, with grace, health, beauty, honour
As much as child e'er lov'd, or father found
A love that makes breath poor and speech unable
Beyond all manner of so much I love you

What shall Cordelia speak? Love, and be silent

Of all these bounds, even from this line to this
With shadowy forests and with champains rich'd
With plenteous rivers and wide-skirted meads
We make thee lady: to thine and Albany's issue
Be this perpetual. -- What says our second daughter
Our dearest Regan, wife to Cornwall? Speak

Sir, I am made of the selfsame metal that my sister is
And prize me at her worth. In my true heart
I find she names my very deed of love
Only she comes too short, -- that I profess
Myself an enemy to all other joys
Which the most precious square of sense possesses
And find I am alone felicitate
In your dear highness' love

Then poor Cordelia
And yet not so; since, I am sure, my love's
More richer than my tongue

To thee and thine hereditary ever
Remain this ample third of our fair kingdom
No less in space, validity, and pleasure
Than that conferr'd on Goneril. -- Now, our joy
Although the last, not least; to whose young love
The vines of France and milk of Burgundy
Strive to be interess'd; what can you say to draw
A third more opulent than your sisters? Speak

Nothing can come of nothing: speak again

Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave
My heart into my mouth: I love your majesty
According to my bond; no more nor less

How, how, Cordelia? mend your speech a little
Lest you may mar your fortunes

Good my lord
You have begot me, bred me, lov'd me: I
Return those duties back as are right fit
Obey you, love you, and most honour you
Why have my sisters husbands if they say
They love you all? Haply, when I shall wed
That lord whose hand must take my plight shall carry
Half my love with him, half my care and duty
Sure I shall never marry like my sisters
To love my father all

But goes thy heart with this

Ay, good my lord

So young, and so untender

So young, my lord, and true

Let it be so, -- thy truth then be thy dower
For, by the sacred radiance of the sun
The mysteries of Hecate, and the night
By all the operation of the orbs
From whom we do exist and cease to be
Here I disclaim all my paternal care
Propinquity, and property of blood
And as a stranger to my heart and me
Hold thee, from this for ever. The barbarous Scythian
Or he that makes his generation messes
To gorge his appetite, shall to my bosom
Be as well neighbour'd, pitied, and reliev'd
As thou my sometime daughter

Good my liege

Peace, Kent
Come not between the dragon and his wrath
I lov'd her most, and thought to set my rest
On her kind nursery. -- Hence, and avoid my sight
So be my grave my peace, as here I give
Her father's heart from her! -- Call France; -- who stirs
Call Burgundy! -- Cornwall and Albany
With my two daughters' dowers digest this third
Let pride, which she calls plainness, marry her
I do invest you jointly in my power
Pre-eminence, and all the large effects
That troop with majesty. -- Ourself, by monthly course
With reservation of an hundred knights
By you to be sustain'd, shall our abode
Make with you by due turns. Only we still retain
The name, and all the additions to a king
The sway
Revenue, execution of the rest
Beloved sons, be yours; which to confirm
This coronet part betwixt you

Royal Lear
Whom I have ever honour'd as my king
Lov'd as my father, as my master follow'd
As my great patron thought on in my prayers

The bow is bent and drawn; make from the shaft

Let it fall rather, though the fork invade
The region of my heart: be Kent unmannerly
When Lear is mad. What wouldst thou do, old man
Think'st thou that duty shall have dread to speak
When power to flattery bows? To plainness honour's bound
When majesty falls to folly. Reverse thy state
And in thy best consideration check
This hideous rashness: answer my life my judgment
Thy youngest daughter does not love thee least
Nor are those empty-hearted whose low sound
Reverbs no hollowness

Kent, on thy life, no more

My life I never held but as a pawn
To wage against thine enemies; nor fear to lose it
Thy safety being the motive

Out of my sight

See better, Lear; and let me still remain
The true blank of thine eye

Now, by Apollo

Now by Apollo, king
Thou swear'st thy gods in vain

O vassal! miscreant

Dear sir, forbear

Do
Kill thy physician, and the fee bestow
Upon the foul disease. Revoke thy gift
Or, whilst I can vent clamour from my throat
I'll tell thee thou dost evil

Hear me, recreant
On thine allegiance, hear me
Since thou hast sought to make us break our vow
Which we durst never yet, -- and with strain'd pride
To come between our sentence and our power
Which nor our nature nor our place can bear
Our potency made good, take thy reward
Five days we do allot thee for provision
To shield thee from diseases of the world
And on the sixth to turn thy hated back
Upon our kingdom: if, on the tenth day following
Thy banish'd trunk be found in our dominions
The moment is thy death. Away! by Jupiter
This shall not be revok'd

Here's France and Burgundy, my noble lord

My Lord of Burgundy
We first address toward you, who with this king
Hath rivall'd for our daughter: what in the least
Will you require in present dower with her
Or cease your quest of love

Most royal majesty
I crave no more than hath your highness offer'd
Nor will you tender less

Right noble Burgundy
When she was dear to us, we did hold her so
But now her price is fall'n. Sir, there she stands
If aught within that little seeming substance
Or all of it, with our displeasure piec'd
And nothing more, may fitly like your grace
She's there, and she is yours

I know no answer

Will you, with those infirmities she owes
Unfriended, new-adopted to our hate
Dower'd with our curse, and stranger'd with our oath
Take her, or leave her

Pardon me, royal sir
Election makes not up on such conditions

Then leave her, sir; for, by the power that made me
I tell you all her wealth. -- For you, great king
I would not from your love make such a stray
To match you where I hate; therefore beseech you
To avert your liking a more worthier way
Than on a wretch whom nature is asham'd
Almost to acknowledge hers

This is most strange
That she, who even but now was your best object
The argument of your praise, balm of your age
Most best, most dearest, should in this trice of time
Commit a thing so monstrous, to dismantle
So many folds of favour. Sure her offence
Must be of such unnatural degree
That monsters it, or your fore-vouch'd affection
Fall'n into taint; which to believe of her
Must be a faith that reason without miracle
Should never plant in me

I yet beseech your majesty
If for I want that glib and oily art
To speak and purpose not; since what I well intend
I'll do't before I speak, -- that you make known
It is no vicious blot, murder, or foulness
No unchaste action or dishonour'd step
That hath depriv'd me of your grace and favour
But even for want of that for which I am richer
A still-soliciting eye, and such a tongue
As I am glad I have not, though not to have it
Hath lost me in your liking

Better thou
Hadst not been born than not to have pleas'd me better

Is it but this, -- a tardiness in nature
Which often leaves the history unspoke
That it intends to do? -- My lord of Burgundy
What say you to the lady? Love's not love
When it is mingled with regards that stands
Aloof from the entire point. Will you have her
She is herself a dowry

Royal king
Give but that portion which yourself propos'd
And here I take Cordelia by the hand
Duchess of Burgundy

Nothing: I have sworn; I am firm

I am sorry, then, you have so lost a father
That you must lose a husband

Peace be with Burgundy
Since that respects of fortune are his love
I shall not be his wife

Fairest Cordelia, that art most rich, being poor
Most choice, forsaken; and most lov'd, despis'd
Thee and thy virtues here I seize upon
Be it lawful, I take up what's cast away
Gods, gods! 'tis strange that from their cold'st neglect
My love should kindle to inflam'd respect
Thy dowerless daughter, king, thrown to my chance
Is queen of us, of ours, and our fair France
Not all the dukes of waterish Burgundy
Can buy this unpriz'd precious maid of me
Bid them farewell, Cordelia, though unkind
Thou losest here, a better where to find

Thou hast her, France: let her be thine; for we
Have no such daughter, nor shall ever see
That face of hers again. -- Therefore be gone
Without our grace, our love, our benison
Come, noble Burgundy

Bid farewell to your sisters

The jewels of our father, with wash'd eyes
Cordelia leaves you: I know you what you are
And, like a sister, am most loath to call
Your faults as they are nam'd. Love well our father
To your professed bosoms I commit him
But yet, alas, stood I within his grace
I would prefer him to a better place
So, farewell to you both

Prescribe not us our duties Let your study
Be to content your lord, who hath receiv'd you
At fortune's alms. You have obedience scanted
And well are worth the want that you have wanted

Time shall unfold what plighted cunning hides
Who cover faults, at last shame them derides
Well may you prosper Come, my fair Cordelia

Thou, nature, art my goddess; to thy law
My services are bound. Wherefore should I
Stand in the plague of custom, and permit
The curiosity of nations to deprive me
For that I am some twelve or fourteen moonshines
Lag of a brother? Why bastard? wherefore base
When my dimensions are as well compact
My mind as generous, and my shape as true
As honest madam's issue? Why brand they us
With base? with baseness? bastardy? base, base
Who, in the lusty stealth of nature, take
More composition and fierce quality
Than doth, within a dull, stale, tired bed
Go to the creating a whole tribe of fops
Got 'tween asleep and wake? -- Well then
Legitimate Edgar, I must have your land
Our father's love is to the bastard Edmund
As to the legitimate: fine word -- legitimate
Well, my legitimate, if this letter speed
And my invention thrive, Edmund the base
Shall top the legitimate. I grow; I prosper
Now, gods, stand up for bastards

Kent banish'd thus! and France in choler parted
And the king gone to-night! subscrib'd his pow'r
Confin'd to exhibition! All this done
Upon the gad! -- Edmund, how now! What news

A credulous father! and a brother noble
Whose nature is so far from doing harms
That he suspects none; on whose foolish honesty
My practices ride easy! -- I see the business
Let me, if not by birth, have lands by wit
All with me's meet that I can fashion fit

By day and night, he wrongs me; every hour
He flashes into one gross crime or other
That sets us all at odds; I'll not endure it
His knights grow riotous, and himself upbraids us
On every trifle. -- When he returns from hunting
I will not speak with him; say I am sick
If you come slack of former services
You shall do well; the fault of it I'll answer

Put on what weary negligence you please
You and your fellows; I'd have it come to question
If he distaste it, let him to our sister
Whose mind and mine, I know, in that are one
Not to be overruled. Idle old man
That still would manage those authorities
That he hath given away! -- Now, by my life
Old fools are babes again; and must be us'd
With checks as flatteries, -- when they are seen abus'd

And let his knights have colder looks among you
What grows of it, no matter; advise your fellows so
I would breed from hence occasions, and I shall
That I may speak. -- I'll write straight to my sister
To hold my very course. -- Prepare for dinner

If but as well I other accents borrow
That can my speech defuse, my good intent
May carry through itself to that full issue
For which I rais'd my likeness. -- Now, banish'd Kent
If thou canst serve where thou dost stand condemn'd
So may it come, thy master, whom thou lov'st
Shall find thee full of labours

Not only, sir, this your all-licens'd fool
But other of your insolent retinue
Do hourly carp and quarrel; breaking forth
In rank and not-to-be-endured riots. Sir
I had thought, by making this well known unto you
To have found a safe redress; but now grow fearful
By what yourself too late have spoke and done
That you protect this course, and put it on
By your allowance; which if you should, the fault
Would not scape censure, nor the redresses sleep
Which, in the tender of a wholesome weal
Might in their working do you that offence
Which else were shame, that then necessity
Will call discreet proceeding

For you know, nuncle
The hedge-sparrow fed the cuckoo so long
That it had it head bit off by it young
So out went the candle, and we were left darkling

Are you our daughter

Come, sir
I would you would make use of that good wisdom
Whereof I know you are fraught; and put away
These dispositions, that of late transform you
From what you rightly are

May not an ass know when the cart draws the horse? -- Whoop, Jug! I love thee

Doth any here know me? -- This is not Lear
Doth Lear walk thus? speak thus? Where are his eyes
Either his notion weakens, his discernings
Are lethargied. -- Ha! waking? 'Tis not so
Who is it that can tell me who I am

Lear's shadow

I would learn that; for, by the marks of sovereignty
Knowledge, and reason
I should be false persuaded I had daughters

Which they will make an obedient father

Your name, fair gentlewoman

This admiration, sir, is much o' the favour
Of other your new pranks. I do beseech you
To understand my purposes aright
As you are old and reverend, you should be wise
Here do you keep a hundred knights and squires
Men so disorder'd, so debosh'd, and bold
That this our court, infected with their manners
Shows like a riotous inn: epicurism and lust
Make it more like a tavern or a brothel
Than a grac'd palace. The shame itself doth speak
For instant remedy: be, then, desir'd
By her that else will take the thing she begs
A little to disquantity your train
And the remainder, that shall still depend
To be such men as may besort your age
Which know themselves, and you

Darkness and devils
Saddle my horses; call my train together
Degenerate bastard! I'll not trouble thee
Yet have I left a daughter

You strike my people; and your disorder'd rabble
Make servants of their betters

Woe that too late repents

O, sir, are you come
Is it your will? Speak, sir. -- Prepare my horses
Ingratitude, thou marble-hearted fiend
More hideous when thou show'st thee in a child
Than the sea-monster

Pray, sir, be patient

Detested kite, thou liest
My train are men of choice and rarest parts
That all particulars of duty know
And in the most exact regard support
The worships of their name. -- O most small fault
How ugly didst thou in Cordelia show
Which, like an engine, wrench'd my frame of nature
From the fix'd place; drew from my heart all love
And added to the gall. O Lear, Lear, Lear
Beat at this gate that let thy folly in
And thy dear judgment out! -- Go, go, my people

My lord, I am guiltless, as I am ignorant
Of what hath mov'd you

It may be so, my lord
Hear, nature, hear; dear goddess, hear
Suspend thy purpose, if thou didst intend
To make this creature fruitful
Into her womb convey sterility
Dry up in her the organs of increase
And from her derogate body never spring
A babe to honour her! If she must teem
Create her child of spleen, that it may live
And be a thwart disnatur'd torment to her
Let it stamp wrinkles in her brow of youth
With cadent tears fret channels in her cheeks
Turn all her mother's pains and benefits
To laughter and contempt; that she may feel
How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is
To have a thankless child! -- Away, away

Now, gods that we adore, whereof comes this

Never afflict yourself to know more of it
But let his disposition have that scope
That dotage gives it

What, fifty of my followers at a clap
Within a fortnight

What's the matter, sir

I'll tell thee. -- Life and death! -- I am asham'd
That thou hast power to shake my manhood thus
That these hot tears, which break from me perforce
Should make thee worth them. -- Blasts and fogs upon thee
Th' untented woundings of a father's curse
Pierce every sense about thee! -- Old fond eyes
Beweep this cause again, I'll pluck you out
And cast you, with the waters that you lose
To temper clay. Ha
Let it be so: I have another daughter
Who, I am sure, is kind and comfortable
When she shall hear this of thee, with her nails
She'll flay thy wolvish visage. Thou shalt find
That I'll resume the shape which thou dost think
I have cast off for ever.

Do you mark that

I cannot be so partial, Goneril
To the great love I bear you

Pray you, content. -- What, Oswald, ho
You, sir, more knave than fool, after your master

Nuncle Lear, nuncle Lear, tarry, -- take the fool with thee
A fox when one has caught her
And such a daughter
Should sure to the slaughter
If my cap would buy a halter
So the fool follows after

This man hath had good counsel. -- A hundred knights
'Tis politic and safe to let him keep
At point a hundred knights: yes, that on every dream
Each buzz, each fancy, each complaint, dislike
He may enguard his dotage with their powers
And hold our lives in mercy. -- Oswald, I say

Well, you may fear too far

Safer than trust too far
Let me still take away the harms I fear
Not fear still to be taken: I know his heart
What he hath utter'd I have writ my sister
If she sustain him and his hundred knights
When I have show'd th' unfitness
How now, Oswald
What, have you writ that letter to my sister

Ay, madam

Take you some company, and away to horse
Inform her full of my particular fear
And thereto add such reasons of your own
As may compact it more. Get you gone
And hasten your return
No, no, my lord
This milky gentleness and course of yours
Though I condemn it not, yet, under pardon
You are much more attask'd for want of wisdom
Than prais'd for harmful mildness

How far your eyes may pierce I cannot tell
Striving to better, oft we mar what's well

Nay then

Well, well; the event

O, let me not be mad, not mad, sweet heaven
Keep me in temper; I would not be mad

The Duke be here to-night? The better! best
This weaves itself perforce into my business
My father hath set guard to take my brother
And I have one thing, of a queasy question
Which I must act: -- briefness and fortune work
Brother, a word! -- descend: -- brother, I say

My father watches: -- sir, fly this place
Intelligence is given where you are hid
You have now the good advantage of the night
Have you not spoken 'gainst the Duke of Cornwall
He's coming hither; now, i' the night, i' the haste
And Regan with him: have you nothing said
Upon his party 'gainst the Duke of Albany
Advise yourself

I am sure on't, not a word

I hear my father coming: -- pardon me
In cunning I must draw my sword upon you
Draw: seem to defend yourself: now quit you well
Yield: -- come before my father. -- Light, ho, here
Fly, brother. -- Torches, torches! -- So farewell

Some blood drawn on me would beget opinion
Of my more fierce endeavour
I have seen drunkards
Do more than this in sport. -- Father, father
Stop, stop! No help

Now, Edmund, where's the villain

Here stood he in the dark, his sharp sword out
Mumbling of wicked charms, conjuring the moon
To stand auspicious mistress

But where is he

Look, sir, I bleed

Where is the villain, Edmund

Fled this way, sir. When by no means he could

Pursue him, ho! -- Go after
-- By no means what

Persuade me to the murder of your lordship
But that I told him the revenging gods
'Gainst parricides did all their thunders bend
Spoke with how manifold and strong a bond
The child was bound to the father; -- sir, in fine
Seeing how loathly opposite I stood
To his unnatural purpose, in fell motion
With his prepared sword, he charges home
My unprovided body, lanc'd mine arm
But when he saw my best alarum'd spirits
Bold in the quarrel's right, rous'd to the encounter
Or whether gasted by the noise I made
Full suddenly he fled

Let him fly far
Not in this land shall he remain uncaught
And found -- dispatch'd. -- The noble duke my master
My worthy arch and patron, comes to-night
By his authority I will proclaim it
That he which finds him shall deserve our thanks
Bringing the murderous coward to the stake
He that conceals him, death

When I dissuaded him from his intent
And found him pight to do it, with curst speech
I threaten'd to discover him: he replied
'Thou unpossessing bastard! dost thou think
If I would stand against thee, would the reposal
Of any trust, virtue, or worth in thee
Make thy words faith'd? No: what I should deny
As this I would; ay, though thou didst produce
My very character, I'd turn it all
To thy suggestion, plot, and damned practice
And thou must make a dullard of the world
If they not thought the profits of my death
Were very pregnant and potential spurs
To make thee seek it

Strong and fast'ned villain
Would he deny his letter? -- I never got him
Hark, the duke's trumpets! I know not why he comes
All ports I'll bar; the villain shall not scape
The duke must grant me that: besides, his picture
I will send far and near, that all the kingdom
May have due note of him; and of my land
Loyal and natural boy, I'll work the means
To make thee capable

How now, my noble friend! since I came hither
Which I can call but now, -- I have heard strange news

If it be true, all vengeance comes too short
Which can pursue the offender. How dost, my lord

O madam, my old heart is crack'd, -- it's crack'd

What, did my father's godson seek your life
He whom my father nam'd? your Edgar

O lady, lady, shame would have it hid

Was he not companion with the riotous knights
That tend upon my father

I know not, madam
It is too bad, too bad

Yes, madam, he was of that consort

No marvel then though he were ill affected
'Tis they have put him on the old man's death
To have the expense and waste of his revenues
I have this present evening from my sister
Been well inform'd of them; and with such cautions
That if they come to sojourn at my house
I'll not be there

Nor I, assure thee, Regan
Edmund, I hear that you have shown your father
A childlike office

'Twas my duty, sir

He did bewray his practice; and receiv'd
This hurt you see, striving to apprehend him

Is he pursu'd

Ay, my good lord

If he be taken, he shall never more
Be fear'd of doing harm: make your own purpose
How in my strength you please. -- For you, Edmund
Whose virtue and obedience doth this instant
So much commend itself, you shall be ours
Natures of such deep trust we shall much need
You we first seize on

I shall serve you, sir
Truly, however else

For him I thank your grace

You know not why we came to visit you

Thus out of season, threading dark-ey'd night
Occasions, noble Gloster, of some poise
Wherein we must have use of your advice
Our father he hath writ, so hath our sister
Of differences, which I best thought it fit
To answer from our home; the several messengers
From hence attend despatch. Our good old friend
Lay comforts to your bosom; and bestow
Your needful counsel to our business
Which craves the instant use

I serve you, madam
Your graces are right welcome

Weapons! arms! What's the matter here

Keep peace, upon your lives
He dies that strikes again. What is the matter

The messengers from our sister and the king

What is your difference? speak

I am scarce in breath, my lord

No marvel, you have so bestirr'd your valour. You cowardly
rascal, nature disclaims in thee; a tailor made thee

Thou art a strange fellow: a tailor make a man

Ay, a tailor, sir: a stonecutter or a painter could not have
made him so ill, though he had been but two hours at the trade

Speak yet, how grew your quarrel

This ancient ruffian, sir, whose life I have spared at suit of
his grey beard

Yes, sir; but anger hath a privilege

Why art thou angry

That such a slave as this should wear a sword
Who wears no honesty. Such smiling rogues as these
Like rats, oft bite the holy cords a-twain
Which are too intrinse t' unloose; smooth every passion
That in the natures of their lords rebel
Bring oil to fire, snow to their colder moods
Renege, affirm, and turn their halcyon beaks
With every gale and vary of their masters
Knowing naught, like dogs, but following
A plague upon your epileptic visage
Smile you my speeches, as I were a fool
Goose, an I had you upon Sarum plain
I'd drive ye cackling home to Camelot

What, art thou mad, old fellow

How fell you out
Say that

No contraries hold more antipathy
Than I and such a knave

Why dost thou call him knave? What is his fault

His countenance likes me not

No more perchance does mine, or his, or hers

Sir, 'tis my occupation to be plain
I have seen better faces in my time
Than stands on any shoulder that I see
Before me at this instant

This is some fellow
Who, having been prais'd for bluntness, doth affect
A saucy roughness, and constrains the garb
Quite from his nature: he cannot flatter, he
An honest mind and plain, -- he must speak truth
An they will take it, so; if not, he's plain
These kind of knaves I know which in this plainness
Harbour more craft and more corrupter ends
Than twenty silly-ducking observants
That stretch their duties nicely

Sir, in good faith, in sincere verity
Under the allowance of your great aspect
Whose influence, like the wreath of radiant fire
On flickering Phoebus' front

What mean'st by this

What was the offence you gave him

I never gave him any
It pleas'd the king his master very late
To strike at me, upon his misconstruction
When he, compact, and flattering his displeasure
Tripp'd me behind; being down, insulted, rail'd
And put upon him such a deal of man
That worthied him, got praises of the king
For him attempting who was self-subdu'd
And, in the fleshment of this dread exploit
Drew on me here again

None of these rogues and cowards
But Ajax is their Fool

Fetch forth the stocks
You stubborn ancient knave, you reverent braggart
We'll teach you

Sir, I am too old to learn
Call not your stocks for me: I serve the king
On whose employment I was sent to you
You shall do small respect, show too bold malice
Against the grace and person of my master
Stocking his messenger

Fetch forth the stocks! -- As I have life and honour
there shall he sit till noon

Till noon! Till night, my lord; and all night too

Why, madam, if I were your father's dog
You should not use me so

Sir, being his knave, I will

This is a fellow of the self-same colour
Our sister speaks of. -- Come, bring away the stocks

Let me beseech your grace not to do so
His fault is much, and the good king his master
Will check him for't: your purpos'd low correction
Is such as basest and contemned'st wretches
For pilferings and most common trespasses
Are punish'd with: the king must take it ill
That he, so slightly valu'd in his messenger
Should have him thus restrain'd

I'll answer that

My sister may receive it much more worse
To have her gentleman abus'd, assaulted
For following her affairs. -- Put in his legs
Come, my good lord, away

I am sorry for thee, friend; 'tis the duke's pleasure
Whose disposition, all the world well knows
Will not be rubb'd nor stopp'd; I'll entreat for thee

Pray do not, sir: I have watch'd, and travell'd hard
Some time I shall sleep out, the rest I'll whistle
A good man's fortune may grow out at heels
Give you good morrow

The duke's to blame in this: 'twill be ill taken

Good king, that must approve the common saw
Thou out of heaven's benediction com'st
To the warm sun
Approach, thou beacon to this under globe
That by thy comfortable beams I may
Peruse this letter. -- Nothing almost sees miracles
But misery: -- I know 'tis from Cordelia
Who hath most fortunately been inform'd
Of my obscured course; and shall find time
From this enormous state, -- seeking to give
Losses their remedies, -- All weary and o'erwatch'd
Take vantage, heavy eyes, not to behold
This shameful lodging
Fortune, good night: smile once more, turn thy wheel

I heard myself proclaim'd
And by the happy hollow of a tree
Escap'd the hunt. No port is free; no place
That guard and most unusual vigilance
Does not attend my taking. While I may scape
I will preserve myself: and am bethought
To take the basest and most poorest shape
That ever penury, in contempt of man
Brought near to beast: my face I'll grime with filth
Blanket my loins; elf all my hair in knots
And with presented nakedness outface
The winds and persecutions of the sky
The country gives me proof and precedent
Of Bedlam beggars, who, with roaring voices
Strike in their numb'd and mortified bare arms
Pins, wooden pricks, nails, sprigs of rosemary
And with this horrible object, from low farms
Poor pelting villages, sheep-cotes, and mills
Sometime with lunatic bans, sometime with prayers
Enforce their charity. -- Poor Turlygod! poor Tom
That's something yet: -- Edgar I nothing am

'Tis strange that they should so depart from home
And not send back my messenger

As I learn'd
The night before there was no purpose in them
Of this remove

Hail to thee, noble master

Ha
Mak'st thou this shame thy pastime

No, my lord

What's he that hath so much thy place mistook
To set thee here

It is both he and she
Your son and daughter

They durst not do't
They would not, could not do't; 'tis worse than murder
To do upon respect such violent outrage
Resolve me, with all modest haste, which way
Thou mightst deserve or they impose this usage
Coming from us

My lord, when at their home
I did commend your highness' letters to them
Ere I was risen from the place that show'd
My duty kneeling, came there a reeking post
Stew'd in his haste, half breathless, panting forth
From Goneril his mistress salutations
Deliver'd letters, spite of intermission
Which presently they read: on whose contents
They summon'd up their meiny, straight took horse
Commanded me to follow and attend
The leisure of their answer; gave me cold looks
And meeting here the other messenger
Whose welcome I perceiv'd had poison'd mine
Being the very fellow which of late
Display'd so saucily against your highness
Having more man than wit about me, drew
He rais'd the house with loud and coward cries
Your son and daughter found this trespass worth
The shame which here it suffers

O, how this mother swells up toward my heart
Hysterica passio, -- down, thou climbing sorrow
Thy element's below! -- Where is this daughter

With the earl, sir, here within

Follow me not
Stay here

Deny to speak with me? They are sick? they are weary
They have travell'd all the night? Mere fetches
The images of revolt and flying off
Fetch me a better answer

My dear lord
You know the fiery quality of the duke
How unremovable and fix'd he is
In his own course

Vengeance! plague! death! confusion
Fiery? What quality? why, Gloster, Gloster
I'd speak with the Duke of Cornwall and his wife

Well, my good lord, I have inform'd them so

Inform'd them! Dost thou understand me, man

Ay, my good lord

The King would speak with Cornwall; the dear father
Would with his daughter speak, commands her service
Are they inform'd of this? -- My breath and blood
Fiery? the fiery duke? -- Tell the hot duke that
No, but not yet: may be he is not well
Infirmity doth still neglect all office
Whereto our health is bound: we are not ourselves
When nature, being oppress'd, commands the mind
To suffer with the body: I'll forbear
And am fallen out with my more headier will
To take the indispos'd and sickly fit
For the sound man. -- Death on my state! Wherefore
Should he sit here? This act persuades me
That this remotion of the duke and her
Is practice only. Give me my servant forth
Go tell the duke and's wife I'd speak with them
Now, presently: bid them come forth and hear me
Or at their chamber door I'll beat the drum
Till it cry 'Sleep to death.'

I would have all well betwixt you

O me, my heart, my rising heart! -- but down

Good-morrow to you both

Hail to your grace

I am glad to see your highness

Regan, I think you are; I know what reason
I have to think so: if thou shouldst not be glad
I would divorce me from thy mother's tomb
Sepulchring an adultress. -- O, are you free
Some other time for that. -- Beloved Regan
Thy sister's naught: O Regan, she hath tied
Sharp-tooth'd unkindness, like a vulture, here
I can scarce speak to thee; thou'lt not believe
With how deprav'd a quality -- O Regan

I pray you, sir, take patience: I have hope
You less know how to value her desert
Than she to scant her duty

Say, how is that

I cannot think my sister in the least
Would fail her obligation: if, sir, perchance
She have restrain'd the riots of your followers
'Tis on such ground, and to such wholesome end
As clears her from all blame

My curses on her

O, sir, you are old
Nature in you stands on the very verge
Of her confine: you should be rul'd and led
By some discretion, that discerns your state
Better than you yourself. Therefore, I pray you
That to our sister you do make return
Say you have wrong'd her, sir

Ask her forgiveness
Do you but mark how this becomes the house
'Dear daughter, I confess that I am old
Age is unnecessary: on my knees I beg
That you'll vouchsafe me raiment, bed, and food.'

Good sir, no more! These are unsightly tricks
Return you to my sister

Never, Regan
She hath abated me of half my train
Look'd black upon me; struck me with her tongue
Most serpent-like, upon the very heart
All the stor'd vengeances of heaven fall
On her ingrateful top! Strike her young bones
You taking airs, with lameness

Fie, sir, fie

You nimble lightnings, dart your blinding flames
Into her scornful eyes! Infect her beauty
You fen-suck'd fogs, drawn by the powerful sun
To fall and blast her pride

O the blest gods
So will you wish on me when the rash mood is on

No, Regan, thou shalt never have my curse
Thy tender-hefted nature shall not give
Thee o'er to harshness: her eyes are fierce; but thine
Do comfort, and not burn. 'Tis not in thee
To grudge my pleasures, to cut off my train
To bandy hasty words, to scant my sizes
And, in conclusion, to oppose the bolt
Against my coming in: thou better know'st
The offices of nature, bond of childhood
Effects of courtesy, dues of gratitude
Thy half o' the kingdom hast thou not forgot
Wherein I thee endow'd

Good sir, to the purpose

Who put my man i' the stocks

What trumpet's that

I know't -- my sister's: this approves her letter
That she would soon be here

Is your lady come

This is a slave, whose easy-borrowed pride
Dwells in the fickle grace of her he follows
Out, varlet, from my sight

What means your grace

Who stock'd my servant? Regan, I have good hope
Thou didst not know on't. -- Who comes here? O heavens

If you do love old men, if your sweet sway
Allow obedience, if yourselves are old
Make it your cause; send down, and take my part
Art not asham'd to look upon this beard
O Regan, wilt thou take her by the hand

Why not by the hand, sir? How have I offended
All's not offence that indiscretion finds
And dotage terms so

O sides, you are too tough
Will you yet hold? -- How came my man i' the stocks

I set him there, sir: but his own disorders
Deserv'd much less advancement

You? did you

I pray you, father, being weak, seem so
If, till the expiration of your month
You will return and sojourn with my sister
Dismissing half your train, come then to me
I am now from home, and out of that provision
Which shall be needful for your entertainment

Return to her, and fifty men dismiss'd
No, rather I abjure all roofs, and choose
To wage against the enmity o' the air
To be a comrade with the wolf and owl
Necessity's sharp pinch! -- Return with her
Why, the hot-blooded France, that dowerless took
Our youngest born, I could as well be brought
To knee his throne, and, squire-like, pension beg
To keep base life afoot. -- Return with her
Persuade me rather to be slave and sumpter
To this detested groom

At your choice, sir

I pr'ythee, daughter, do not make me mad
I will not trouble thee, my child; farewell
We'll no more meet, no more see one another
But yet thou art my flesh, my blood, my daughter
Or rather a disease that's in my flesh
Which I must needs call mine: thou art a boil
A plague sore, an embossed carbuncle
In my corrupted blood. But I'll not chide thee
Let shame come when it will, I do not call it
I do not bid the thunder-bearer shoot
Nor tell tales of thee to high-judging Jove
Mend when thou canst; be better at thy leisure
I can be patient; I can stay with Regan
I and my hundred knights

Not altogether so
I look'd not for you yet, nor am provided
For your fit welcome. Give ear, sir, to my sister
For those that mingle reason with your passion
Must be content to think you old, and so
But she knows what she does

Is this well spoken

I dare avouch it, sir: what, fifty followers
Is it not well? What should you need of more
Yea, or so many, sith that both charge and danger
Speak 'gainst so great a number? How in one house
Should many people, under two commands
Hold amity? 'Tis hard; almost impossible

Why might not you, my lord, receive attendance
From those that she calls servants, or from mine

Why not, my lord? If then they chanc'd to slack you
We could control them. If you will come to me
For now I spy a danger, -- I entreat you
To bring but five-and-twenty: to no more
Will I give place or notice

I gave you all

And in good time you gave it

Made you my guardians, my depositaries
But kept a reservation to be follow'd
With such a number. What, must I come to you
With five-and-twenty, Regan? said you so

And speak't again my lord; no more with me

Those wicked creatures yet do look well-favour'd
When others are more wicked; not being the worst
Stands in some rank of praise
I'll go with thee
Thy fifty yet doth double five-and-twenty
And thou art twice her love

Hear, me, my lord
What need you five-and-twenty, ten, or five
To follow in a house where twice so many
Have a command to tend you

What need one

O, reason not the need: our basest beggars
Are in the poorest thing superfluous
Allow not nature more than nature needs
Man's life is cheap as beast's: thou art a lady
If only to go warm were gorgeous
Why, nature needs not what thou gorgeous wear'st
Which scarcely keeps thee warm. -- But, for true need
You heavens, give me that patience, patience I need
You see me here, you gods, a poor old man
As full of grief as age; wretched in both
If it be you that stirs these daughters' hearts
Against their father, fool me not so much
To bear it tamely; touch me with noble anger
And let not women's weapons, water-drops
Stain my man's cheeks! -- No, you unnatural hags
I will have such revenges on you both
That all the world shall, -- I will do such things
What they are yet, I know not; but they shall be
The terrors of the earth. You think I'll weep
No, I'll not weep
I have full cause of weeping; but this heart
Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws
Or ere I'll weep. -- O fool, I shall go mad

Let us withdraw; 'twill be a storm

This house is little: the old man and his people
Cannot be well bestow'd

'Tis his own blame; hath put himself from rest
And must needs taste his folly

For his particular, I'll receive him gladly
But not one follower

So am I purpos'd
Where is my lord of Gloster

Followed the old man forth: -- he is return'd

The king is in high rage

Whither is he going

He calls to horse; but will I know not whither

'Tis best to give him way; he leads himself

My lord, entreat him by no means to stay

Alack, the night comes on, and the high winds
Do sorely ruffle; for many miles about
There's scarce a bush

O, sir, to wilful men
The injuries that they themselves procure
Must be their schoolmasters. Shut up your doors
He is attended with a desperate train
And what they may incense him to, being apt
To have his ear abus'd, wisdom bids fear

Shut up your doors, my lord; 'tis a wild night
My Regan counsels well: come out o' the storm

Who's there, besides foul weather

One minded like the weather, most unquietly

I know you. Where's the king

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; tears his white hair
Which the impetuous blasts, with eyeless rage
Catch in their fury and make nothing of
Strives in his little world of man to outscorn
The to-and-fro-conflicting wind and rain
This night, wherein the cub-drawn bear would couch
The lion and the belly-pinched wolf
Keep their fur dry, unbonneted he runs
And bids what will take all

But who is with him

None but the fool, who labours to out-jest
His heart-struck injuries

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 be cover'd
With mutual cunning, 'twixt Albany and Cornwall
Who have, -- as who have not, that their great stars
Throne 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 have borne
Against the old kind king; or something deeper
Whereof, perchance, these are but furnishings
But, true it is, from France there comes a power
Into this scatter'd kingdom; who already
Wise in our negligence, have secret feet
In some of our best ports, and are at point
To show their open banner. -- Now to you
If on my credit you dare build so far
To make your speed to Dover, you shall find
Some that will thank you making just report
Of how unnatural and bemadding sorrow
The king hath cause to plain
I am a gentleman of blood and breeding
And from some knowledge and assurance offer
This office to you

I will talk further with you

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 your fellow is
That yet you do not know. Fie on this storm
I will go seek the king

Give me your hand: have you no more to say

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

Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow
You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout
Till you have drench'd our steeples, drown'd the cocks
You sulphurous and thought-executing fires
Vaunt couriers to oak-cleaving thunderbolts
Singe my white head! And thou, all-shaking thunder
Strike flat the thick rotundity o' the world
Crack nature's moulds, all germens spill at once
That make ingrateful man

O nuncle, court holy water in a dry house is better than this
rain water out o' door. Good nuncle, in; and ask thy daughters
blessing: here's a night pities nether wise men nor fools

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, call'd you children
You owe me no subscription: then let fall
Your horrible pleasure; here I stand, your slave
A poor, infirm, weak, and despis'd old man
But yet I call you servile ministers
That will with two pernicious daughters join
Your high-engender'd battles 'gainst a head
So old and white as this! O! O! 'tis foul

He that has a house to put 's head in has a good head-piece
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

No, I will be the pattern of all patience
I will say nothing

Who's there

Marry, here's grace and a codpiece; that's a wise man and a Fool

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

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 undivulged crimes
Unwhipp'd of justice: hide thee, thou bloody hand
Thou perjur'd, and thou simular man of virtue
That art incestuous: caitiff, to pieces shake
That under covert and convenient seeming
Hast practis'd on man's life: close pent-up guilts
Rive your concealing continents, and cry
These dreadful summoners grace. -- I am a man
More sinn'd against than sinning

Alack, bareheaded
Gracious my lord, hard by here is a hovel
Some friendship will it lend you 'gainst the tempest
Repose you there, whilst I to this hard house
More harder than the stones whereof 'tis rais'd
Which even but now, demanding after you
Denied me to come in, -- return, and force
Their scanted courtesy

My wits begin to turn
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
That 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

He that has and a little tiny wit
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain
Must make content with his fortunes fit
For the rain it raineth every day

True, boy. -- Come, bring us to this hovel

Most savage and unnatural

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

Here is the place, my lord; good my lord, enter
The tyranny of the open night's too rough
For nature to endure

Let me alone

Good my lord, enter here

Wilt break my heart

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

Thou think'st 'tis much that this contentious storm
Invades us to the skin: so 'tis to thee
But where the greater malady is fix'd
The lesser is scarce felt. Thou'dst shun a bear
But if thy flight lay toward the raging sea
Thou'dst meet the bear i' the mouth. When the mind's free
The body's delicate: the 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

Good my lord, enter here

Pr'ythee 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
In, boy; go first. -- You houseless poverty
Nay, get thee in. I'll pray, and then I'll sleep

Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are
That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm
How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides
Your loop'd and window'd 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

Fathom and half, fathom and half! Poor Tom

Come not in here, nuncle, here's a spirit
Help me, help me

Give me thy hand. -- Who's there

A spirit, a spirit: he says his name's poor Tom

What art thou that dost grumble there i' the straw
Come forth

Away! the foul fiend follows me
Through the sharp hawthorn blows the cold wind
Hum! go to thy cold bed, and warm thee

Didst thou give all to thy two daughters
And art thou come to this

What, have his daughters brought him to this pass
Couldst thou save nothing? Didst thou give 'em all

Nay, he reserv'd a blanket, else we had been all shamed

Now all the plagues that in the pendulous air
Hang fated o'er men's faults light on thy daughters

He hath no daughters, sir

Death, traitor! nothing could have subdu'd nature
To such a lowness but his unkind daughters
Is it the fashion that discarded fathers
Should have thus little mercy on their flesh
Judicious punishment! 'twas this flesh begot
Those pelican daughters

Pillicock sat on Pillicock-hill
Halloo, halloo, loo loo

This cold night will turn us all to fools and madmen

What hast thou been

What, hath your grace no better company

The prince of darkness is a gentleman
Modo he's call'd, and Mahu

Our flesh and blood, my lord, is grown so vile
That it doth hate what gets it

Poor Tom's a-cold

Go in with me: my duty cannot suffer
To 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 ventur'd to come seek you out
And bring you where both fire and food is ready

First let me talk with this philosopher
What is the cause of thunder

Good my lord, take his offer; go into the house

I'll talk a word with this same learned Theban
What is your study

How to prevent the fiend and to kill vermin

Let me ask you one word in private

Importune him once more to go, my lord
His wits begin to unsettle

Canst thou blame him
His daughters seek his death: -- ah, that good Kent
He said it would be thus, -- poor banish'd man
Thou say'st the king grows mad; I'll tell thee, friend
I am almost mad myself: I had a son
Now outlaw'd from my blood; he sought my life
But lately, very late: I lov'd him, friend
No father his son dearer: true to tell thee
The grief hath craz'd my wits. -- What a night's this
I do beseech your grace

O, cry you mercy, sir
Noble philosopher, your company

Tom's a-cold

In, fellow, there, into the hovel; keep thee warm

Come, let's in all

This way, my lord

With him
I will keep still with my philosopher

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

Take him you on

Sirrah, come on; go along with us

Come, good Athenian

No words, no words: hush

Child Rowland to the dark tower came
His word was still -- Fie, foh, and fum
I smell the blood of a British man

I will have my revenge ere I depart his house

If I find him comforting the king, it will stuff his
suspicion more fully. -- I will persever in my course of loyalty
though the conflict be sore between that and my blood

I will lay trust upon thee; and thou shalt find a dearer father
in my love

Come, sit thou here, most learned justicer
Thou, sapient sir, sit here. Now, you she-foxes

Look, where he stands and glares! -- Want'st thou eyes at trial madam
Come o'er the bourn, Bessy, to me

How do you, sir? Stand you not so amaz'd
Will you lie down and rest upon the cushions

I'll see their trial first. -- Bring in their evidence

Thou, robed man of justice, take thy place
And thou, his yokefellow of equity
Bench by his side: -- you are o' the commission
Sit you too

Let us deal justly
Sleepest or wakest thou, jolly shepherd
Thy sheep be in the corn
And for one blast of thy minikin mouth
Thy sheep shall take no harm
Purr! the cat is gray

Cry you mercy, I took you for a joint-stool

And here's another, whose warp'd looks proclaim
What store her heart is made on. -- Stop her there
Arms, arms! sword! fire! -- Corruption in the place
False justicer, why hast thou let her 'scape

Bless thy five wits

O pity! -- Sir, where is the patience now
That you so oft have boasted to retain

My tears begin to take his part so much
They'll mar my counterfeiting

The little dogs and all
Tray, Blanch, and Sweetheart, see, they bark at me

Make no noise, make no noise; draw the curtains
So, so. We'll go to supper i' the morning

And I'll go to bed at noon

Come hither, friend: where is the king my master

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

Good friend, I pr'ythee, 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 towards 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

Oppressed nature sleeps
This rest might yet have balm'd thy broken sinews
Which, if convenience will not allow
Stand in hard cure. -- Come, help to bear thy master
Thou must not stay behind

Come, come, away

Post speedily to my lord your husband, show him this letter
the army of France is landed. -- Seek out the traitor Gloster

Hang him instantly

Pluck out his eyes
How now! Where's the king

My lord of Gloster hath convey'd 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 towards Dover: where they boast
To have well-armed friends

Get horses for your mistress

Farewell, sweet lord, and sister

Edmund, farewell
Go seek the traitor Gloster
Pinion him like a thief, bring him before us
Though well we may not pass upon his life
Without the form of justice, yet our power
Shall do a courtesy to our wrath, which men
May blame, but not control. -- Who's there? the traitor

Ingrateful fox! 'tis he

Bind fast his corky arms

What mean your graces? -- Good my friends, consider
You are my guests: do me no foul play, friends

Bind him, I say

Hard, hard. -- O filthy traitor

Unmerciful lady as you are, I'm none

To this chair bind him. -- Villain, thou shalt find

By the kind gods, 'tis most ignobly done
To pluck me by the beard

So white, and such a traitor

Naughty lady
These hairs which thou dost ravish from my chin
Will quicken, and accuse thee: I am your host
With robber's hands my hospitable favours
You should not ruffle thus. What will you do

Come, sir, what letters had you late from France

Be simple-answer'd, for we know the truth

And what confederacy have you with the traitors
Late footed in the kingdom

To whose hands have you sent the lunatic king
Speak

I have a letter guessingly set down
Which came from one that's of a neutral heart
And not from one oppos'd

Cunning

And false

Where hast thou sent the king

To Dover

Wherefore to Dover? Wast thou not charg'd at peril

Wherefore to Dover? Let him first answer that

I am tied to the stake, and I must stand the course

Wherefore to Dover, sir

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 endur'd, would have buoy'd up
And quench'd the stelled fires; yet, poor old heart
He holp the heavens to rain
If wolves had at thy gate howl'd that stern time
Thou shouldst have said, 'Good porter, turn the key.'
All cruels else subscrib'd: -- but I shall see
The winged vengeance overtake such children

See't shalt thou never. -- Fellows, hold the chair
Upon these eyes of thine I'll set my foot

He that will think to live till he be old
Give me some help! -- O cruel! -- O ye gods

One side will mock another; the other too

If you see vengeance

Hold your hand, my lord
I have serv'd you ever since I was a child
But better service have I never done you
Than now to bid you hold

How now, you dog

If you did wear a beard upon your chin
I'd shake it on this quarrel. What do you mean

My villain

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

Give me thy sword -- A peasant stand up thus

O, I am slain! -- My lord, you have one eye left
To see some mischief on thim. O

Lest it see more, prevent it. -- Out, vile jelly
Where is thy lustre now

All dark and comfortless. -- Where's my son Edmund
Edmund, enkindle all the sparks of nature
To quit this horrid act

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

O my follies! Then Edgar was abus'd
Kind gods, forgive me that, and prosper him

Go thrust him out at gates, and let him smell
His way to Dover. -- How is't, my lord? How look you

I have receiv'd a hurt: -- follow me, lady
Turn out that eyeless villain; -- throw this slave
Upon the dunghill. -- Regan, I bleed apace
Untimely comes this hurt: give me your arm

I'll never care what wickedness I do
If this man come to good

If she live long
And in the end meet the old course of death
Women will all turn monsters

Let's follow the old earl, and get the Bedlam
To lead him where he would: his roguish madness
Allows itself to anything

Go thou: I'll fetch some flax and whites of eggs
To apply to his bleeding face. Now heaven help him

Yet better thus, and known to be contemn'd
Than still contemn'd and flatter'd. To be worst
The lowest and most dejected thing of fortune
Stands still in esperance, lives not in fear
The lamentable change is from the best
The worst returns to laughter. Welcome, then
Thou unsubstantial air that I embrace
The wretch that thou hast blown unto the worst
Owes nothing to thy blasts. -- But who comes here
My father, poorly led? -- World, world, O world
But that thy strange mutations make us hate thee
Life would not yield to age

O my good lord
I have been your tenant, and your father's tenant
These fourscore years

Away, get thee away; good friend, be gone
Thy comforts can do me no good at all
Thee they may hurt

You cannot see your way

I have no way, and therefore want no eyes
I stumbled when I saw: full oft 'tis seen
Our means secure us, and our mere defects
Prove our commodities. -- O dear son Edgar
The food of thy abused father's wrath
Might I but live to see thee in my touch
I'd say I had eyes again

How now! Who's there

O gods! Who is't can say 'I am at the worst'
I am worse than e'er I was

'Tis poor mad Tom

And worse I may be yet. The worst is not
So long as we can say 'This is the worst.'

Fellow, where goest

Is it a beggar-man

Madman and beggar too

He has some reason, else he could not beg
I' the last night's storm I such a fellow saw
Which made me think a man a worm: my son
Came then into my mind, and yet my mind
Was then scarce friends with him: I have heard more since
As flies to wanton boys are we to the gods
They kill us for their sport

How should this be
Bad is the trade that must play fool to sorrow
Angering itself and others. -- Bless thee, master

Is that the naked fellow

Ay, my lord

Then pr'ythee get thee gone: if for my sake
Thou wilt o'ertake us, hence a mile or twain
I' the way toward Dover, do it for ancient love
And bring some covering for this naked soul
Which I'll entreat to lead me

Alack, sir, he is mad

'Tis the time's plague when madmen lead the blind
Do as I bid thee, or rather do thy pleasure
Above the rest, be gone

I'll bring him the best 'parel that I have
Come on't what will

Sirrah naked fellow

Poor Tom's a-cold
I cannot daub it further

Come hither, fellow

And yet I must. -- Bless thy sweet eyes, they bleed

Know'st thou the way to Dover

Here, take this purse, thou whom the heavens' plagues
Have humbled to all strokes: that I am wretched
Makes thee the happier; -- heavens, deal so still
Let the superfluous and lust-dieted man
That slaves your ordinance, that will not see
Because he does not feel, feel your power quickly
So distribution should undo excess
And each man have enough. -- Dost thou know Dover

Ay, master

There is a cliff, whose high and bending head
Looks fearfully in the confined deep
Bring me but to the very brim of it
And I'll repair the misery thou dost bear
With something rich about me: from that place
I shall no leading need

Give me thy arm - Poor Tom shall lead thee

Welcome, my lord: I marvel our mild husband
Not met us on the way. -- Now, where's your master

Madam, within; but never man so chang'd
I told him of the army that was landed
He smil'd at it: I told him you were coming
His answer was, 'The worse': Of Gloster's treachery
And of the loyal service of his son
When I inform'd him, then he call'd me sot
And told me I had turn'd the wrong side out
What most he should dislike seems pleasant to him
What like, offensive

Then shall you go no further
It is the cowish terror of his spirit
That dares not undertake: he'll not feel wrongs
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
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
Decline your head: this kiss, if it durst speak
Would stretch thy spirits up into the air
Conceive, and fare thee well

Yours in the ranks of death

My most dear Gloster
O, the difference of man and man
To thee a woman's services are due
My fool usurps my body

Madam, here comes my lord

I have been worth the whistle

O Goneril
You are not worth the dust which the rude wind
Blows in your face! I fear your disposition
That nature which contemns it origin
Cannot be bordered certain in itself
She that herself will sliver and disbranch
From her material sap, perforce must wither
And come to deadly use

No more; the text is foolish

Wisdom and goodness to the vile seem vile
Filths savour but themselves. What have you done
Tigers, not daughters, what have you perform'd
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
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

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
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, sitt'st still, and criest
'Alack, why does he so?'

See thyself, devil
Proper deformity seems not in the fiend
So horrid as in woman

O vain fool

Thou changed and self-cover'd thing, for shame
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

Marry, your manhood now

What news

O, my good lord, the Duke of Cornwall's dead
Slain by his servant, going to put out
The other eye of Gloster

Gloster's eyes

A servant that he bred, thrill'd with remorse
Oppos'd against the act, bending his sword
To his great master; who, thereat enrag'd
Flew on him, and amongst them fell'd him dead
But not without that harmful stroke which since
Hath pluck'd him after

This shows you are above
You justicers, that these our nether crimes
So speedily can venge! -- But, O poor Gloster
Lost he his other eye

Both, both, my lord
This letter, madam, craves a speedy answer
'Tis from your sister

One way I like this well
But being widow, and my Gloster with her
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

Where was his son when they did take his eyes

Come with my lady hither

He is not here

No, my good lord; I met him back again

Knows he the wickedness

Ay, my good lord. 'Twas he inform'd against him
And quit the house on purpose, that their punishment
Might have the freer course

Gloster, 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

Ay, sir; she took them, read them in my presence
And now and then an ample tear trill'd down
Her delicate cheek: it seem'd she was a queen
Over her passion; who, most rebel-like
Sought to be king o'er her

O, then it mov'd her

Not to a rage: patience and sorrow strove
Who should express her goodliest. You have seen
Sunshine and rain at once: her smiles and tears
Were like, a better day: those happy smilets
That play'd on her ripe lip seem'd not to know
What guests were in her eyes; which parted thence
As pearls from diamonds dropp'd. -- In brief, sorrow
Would be a rarity most belov'd, if all
Could so become it

Made she no verbal question

Faith, once or twice she heav'd the name of 'father'
Pantingly forth, as if it press'd her heart
Cried 'Sisters, sisters! -- Shame of ladies! sisters
Kent! father! sisters! What, i' the storm? i' the night
Let pity not be believ'd!' -- There she shook
The holy water from her heavenly eyes
And clamour moisten'd: then away she started
To deal with grief alone

It is the stars
The stars above us, govern our conditions
Else one self mate and mate could not beget
Such different issues. You spoke not with her since

No

Was this before the king return'd

No, since

Well, sir, the poor distressed Lear's i' the town
Who sometime, in his better tune, remembers
What we are come about, and by no means
Will yield to see his daughter

Why, good sir

A sovereign shame so elbows him: his own unkindness
That stripp'd her from his benediction, turn'd her
To foreign casualties, gave her dear rights
To his dog-hearted daughters, -- these things sting
His mind so venomously that burning shame
Detains him from Cordelia

Alack, poor gentleman

Of Albany's and Cornwall's powers you heard not

'Tis so; they are a-foot

Well, sir, I'll bring you to our master Lear
And leave you to attend him: some dear cause
Will in concealment wrap me up awhile
When I am known aright, you shall not grieve
Lending me this acquaintance. I pray you go
Along with me

Alack, 'tis he: why, he was met even now
As mad as the vex'd sea; singing aloud
Crown'd with rank fumiter and furrow weeds
With harlocks, hemlock, nettles, cuckoo-flowers
Darnel, and all the idle weeds that grow
In our sustaining corn. -- A century send forth
Search every acre in the high-grown field
And bring him to our eye
What can man's wisdom
In the restoring his bereaved sense
He that helps him take all my outward worth

There is means, madam
Our foster nurse of nature is repose
The which he lacks; that to provoke in him
Are many simples operative, whose power
Will close the eye of anguish

All bless'd secrets
All you unpublish'd virtues of the earth
Spring with my tears! be aidant and remediate
In the good man's distress! -- Seek, seek for him
Lest his ungovern'd rage dissolve the life
That wants the means to lead it

News, madam
The British powers are marching hitherward

'Tis known before; our preparation stands
In expectation of them. -- O dear father
It is thy business that I go about
Therefore great France
My mourning and important tears hath pitied
No blown ambition doth our arms incite
But love, dear love, and our ag'd father's right
Soon may I hear and see him

But are my brother's powers set forth

Ay, madam

Himself in person there

Madam, with much ado
Your sister is the better soldier

Lord Edmund spake not with your lord at home

No, madam

What might import my sister's letter to him

I know not, lady

Faith, he is posted hence on serious matter
It was great ignorance, Gloster's eyes being out
To let him live: where he arrives he moves
All hearts against us: Edmund, I think, is gone
In pity of his misery, to despatch
His nighted life; moreover, to descry
The strength o' the enemy

I must needs after him, madam, with my letter

Our troops set forth to-morrow: stay with us
The ways are dangerous

I may not, madam
My lady charg'd my duty in this business

Why should she write to Edmund? Might not you
Transport her purposes by word? Belike
Something, -- I know not what: -- I'll love thee much
Let me unseal the letter

Madam, I had rather

I know your lady does not love her husband
I am sure of that: and at her late being here
She gave strange eyeliads and most speaking looks
To noble Edmund. I know you are of her bosom

I, madam

I speak in understanding; you are, I know't
Therefore I do advise you, take this note
My lord is dead; Edmund and I have talk'd
And more convenient is he for my hand
Than for your lady's. -- You may gather more
If you do find him, pray you give him this
And when your mistress hears thus much from you
I pray desire her call her wisdom to her
So, fare you well
If you do chance to hear of that blind traitor
Preferment falls on him that cuts him off

Would I could meet him, madam! I should show
What party I do follow

Fare thee well

When shall I come to the top of that same hill

You do climb up it now: look, how we labour

Methinks the ground is even

Horrible steep
Hark, do you hear the sea

No, truly

Why, then, your other senses grow imperfect
By your eyes' anguish

So may it be indeed
Methinks thy voice is alter'd; and thou speak'st
In better phrase and matter than thou didst

You are much deceiv'd: in nothing am I chang'd
But in my garments

Methinks you're better spoken

Come on, sir; here's the place: -- stand still. -- How fearful
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
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 pebble chafes
Cannot be heard so high. -- I'll look no more
Lest my brain turn, and the deficient sight
Topple down headlong

Set me where you stand

Give me your hand: -- you are now within a foot
Of th' extreme verge: for all beneath the moon
Would I not leap upright

Let go my hand
Here, friend, 's another purse; in it a jewel
Well worth a poor man's taking: fairies and gods
Prosper it with thee! Go thou further off
Bid me farewell, and let me hear thee going

Now fare ye well, good sir

With all my heart

Why I do trifle thus with his despair
Is done to cure it

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
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

Gone, sir: -- farewell
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
Thus might he pass indeed: -- yet he revives
What are you, sir

Away, and let me die

Hadst thou been aught but gossamer, feathers, air
So many fathom down precipitating
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 is a miracle. -- Speak yet again

But have I fall'n, or no

From the dread summit of this chalky bourn
Look up a-height; -- the shrill-gorg'd lark so far
Cannot be seen or heard: do but look up

Alack, I have no eyes
Is wretchedness depriv'd that benefit
To end itself by death? 'Twas yet some comfort
When misery could beguile the tyrant's rage
And frustrate his proud will

Give me your arm
Up: -- so. -- How is't? Feel you your legs? You stand

Too well, too well

This is above all strangeness
Upon the crown o' the cliff what thing was that
Which parted from you

A poor unfortunate beggar

As I stood here below, methought his eyes
Were two full moons; he had a thousand noses
Horns whelk'd and wav'd like the enridged sea
It was some fiend; therefore, thou happy father
Think that the clearest gods, who make them honours
Of men's impossibility, have preserv'd thee

I do remember now: henceforth I'll bear
Affliction till it do cry out itself
'Enough, enough,' and die. That thing you speak of
I took it for a man; often 'twould say
'The fiend, the fiend': -- he led me to that place

Bear free and patient thoughts. -- But who comes here
The safer sense will ne'er accommodate
His master thus

No, they cannot touch me for coining
I am the king himself

O thou side-piercing sight

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
The wren goes to't, and the small gilded fly
Does lecher in my sight
Let copulation thrive; for Gloster's bastard son
Was kinder to his father than my daughters
Got 'tween the lawful sheets
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
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
Beneath is all the fiend's; there's hell, there's darkness
There is the sulphurous pit; burning, scalding, stench
consumption; fie, fie, fie! pah, pah
Give me an ounce of civet, good apothecary, to sweeten my
imagination: there's money for thee

O, let me kiss that hand

Let me wipe it first; it smells of mortality

O ruin'd piece of nature! This great world
Shall so wear out to naught. -- Dost thou know me

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

Were all the letters suns, I could not see one

I would not take this from report; -- it is
And my heart breaks at it

Read

What, with the case of eyes

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

I see it feelingly

Ay, sir

And the creature run from the cur? There thou mightst behold
the great image of authority: a dog's obeyed in office
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
Robes and furr'd gowns hide all. Plate sin with gold
And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks
Arm it in rags, a pygmy'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
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

O, matter and impertinency mix'd
Reason, in madness

If thou wilt weep my fortunes, take my eyes
I know thee well enough; thy name is Gloster
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

Alack, alack the day

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,
And when I have stol'n upon these sons-in-law
Then kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill

O, here he is: lay hand upon him. -- Sir
Your most dear daughter

No rescue? What, a prisoner? I am even
The natural fool of fortune. -- Use me well
You shall have ransom. Let me have surgeons
I am cut to the brains

You shall have anything

No seconds? all myself
Why, this would make a man a man of salt
To use his eyes for garden water-pots
Ay, and for laying Autumn's dust

Good sir

I will die bravely, like a smug bridegroom. What
I will be jovial: come, come, I am a king
My masters, know you that

You are a royal one, and we obey you

Then there's life in't. Nay, an you get it, you shall get it
by running. Sa, sa, sa, sa

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

Hail, gentle sir

Sir, speed you. What's your will

Do you hear aught, sir, of a battle toward

Most sure and vulgar: every one hears that
Which can distinguish sound

But, by your favour
How near's the other army

Near and on speedy foot; the main descry
Stands on the hourly thought

I thank you sir: that's all

Though that the queen on special cause is here
Her army is mov'd on

I thank you, sir

You ever-gentle gods, take my breath from me
Let not my worser spirit tempt me again
To die before you please

Well pray you, father

Now, good sir, what are you

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
I'll lead you to some biding

Hearty thanks
The bounty and the benison of heaven
To boot, and boot

A proclaim'd prize! Most happy
That eyeless head of thine was first fram'd flesh
To raise my fortunes. -- Thou old unhappy traitor
Briefly thyself remember: -- the sword is out
That must destroy thee

Now let thy friendly hand
Put strength enough to it

Wherefore, bold peasant
Dar'st thou support a publish'd traitor? Hence
Lest that the infection of his fortune take
Like hold on thee. Let go his arm

Chill not let go, zir, without vurther 'casion

Let go, slave, or thou diest

Chill pick your teeth, zir. Come! No matter vor your foins

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 Gloster; seek him out
Upon the British party: O, untimely death

I know thee well: a serviceable villain
As duteous to the vices of thy mistress
As badness would desire

What, is he dead

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
To know our enemies' minds, we'd rip their hearts

O indistinguish'd space of woman's will
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-practis'd duke: for him 'tis well
That of thy death and business I can tell

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
The knowledge of themselves

Give me your hand
Far off methinks I hear the beaten drum
Come, father, I'll bestow you with a friend

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

To be acknowledg'd, madam, is o'erpaid
All my reports go with the modest truth
Nor more nor clipp'd, but so

Be better suited
These weeds are memories of those worser hours
I pr'ythee, put them off

Pardon, 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

Then be't so, my good lord. How, does the
king

Madam, sleeps still

O you kind gods
Cure this great breach in his abused nature
The untun'd and jarring senses, O, wind up
Of this child-changed father

So please your majesty
That we may wake the king: he hath slept long

Be govern'd by your knowledge, and proceed
I' the sway of your own will. Is he array'd

Ay, madam. In the heaviness of sleep
We put fresh garments on him

Be by, good madam, when we do awake him
I doubt not of his temperance

Very well

Please you draw near. -- Louder the music there

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

Kind and dear princess

Had you not been their father, these white flakes
Had challeng'd pity of them. Was this a face
To be oppos'd 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 enemy's 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. -- He wakes; speak to him
Doct
Madam, do you; 'tis fittest

How does my royal lord? How fares your majesty

You do me wrong to take me out o' the 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

Sir, do you know me

You are a spirit, I know: when did you die

Still, still, far wide

He's scarce awake: let him alone awhile

Where have I been? Where am I? -- Fair daylight
I am mightily abus'd. -- 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 assur'd
Of my condition

O, look upon me, sir
And hold your hands in benediction o'er me
No, sir, you must not kneel

Pray, do not mock me
I am a very foolish fond old man
Fourscore and upward, not an hour more nor less
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

And so I am. I am

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

No cause, no cause

Am I in France

In your own kingdom, sir

Do not abuse me

Be comforted, good madam: the great rage
You see, is kill'd 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

Will't please your highness walk

You must bear with me
Pray you now, forget and forgive: I am old and foolish

Holds it true, sir, that the Duke of Cornwall was so slain

Most certain, sir

Who is conductor of his people

As 'tis said, the bastard son of Gloster

They say Edgar, his banished son, is with the Earl of Kent
in Germany

Report is changeable. 'Tis time to look about; the powers of
the kingdom approach apace

The arbitrement is like to be bloody
Fare you well, sir

My point and period will be throughly wrought
Or well or ill, as this day's battle's fought

Know of the duke if his last purpose hold
Or whether since he is advis'd by aught
To change the course: he's full of alteration
And self-reproving: -- bring his constant pleasure

Our sister's man is certainly miscarried

Tis to be doubted, madam

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

In honour'd love

But have you never found my brother's way
To the forfended place

That thought abuses you

I am doubtful that you have been conjunct
And bosom'd with her, as far as we call hers

No, by mine honour, madam

I never shall endure her: dear my lord
Be not familiar with her

Fear me not
She and the duke her husband

I had rather lose the battle than that sister
Should loosen him and me

Our very loving sister, well be-met
Sir, this I heard, -- the king is come to his daughter
With others whom the rigour of our state
Forc'd to cry out. Where I could not be honest
I never yet was valiant: for this business
It toucheth us, as France invades our land
Not bolds the king, with others whom, I fear
Most just and heavy causes make oppose

Sir, you speak nobly

Why is this reason'd

Combine together 'gainst the enemy
For these domestic and particular broils
Are not the question here

Let's, then, determine
With the ancient of war on our proceeding

I shall attend you presently at your tent

Sister, you'll go with us

No

'Tis most convenient; pray you, go with us

O, ho, I know the riddle. -- I will go

If e'er your grace had speech with man so poor
Hear me one word

I'll overtake you. -- Speak

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 avouched there. If you miscarry
Your business of the world hath so an end
And machination ceases. Fortune love you

Stay till I have read the letter

I was forbid it
When time shall serve, let but the herald cry
And I'll appear again

Why, fare thee well: I will o'erlook thy paper

The enemy's in view; draw up your powers
Here is the guess of their true strength and forces
By diligent discovery; -- but your haste
Is now urg'd on you

We will greet the time

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 enjoy'd
If both remain alive: to take the widow
Exasperates, makes mad her sister Goneril
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 who would be rid of him devise
His speedy taking off. As for the 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

Here, father, take the shadow of this tree
For your good host; pray that the right may thrive
If ever I return to you again
I'll bring you comfort

Grace go with you, sir

Away, old man, -- give me thy hand, -- away
King Lear hath lost, he and his daughter ta'en
Give me thy hand; come on

No further, sir; a man may rot even here

What, in ill thoughts again? Men must endure
Their going hence, even as their coming hither
Ripeness is all: -- come on

And that's true too

Some officers take them away: good guard
Until their greater pleasures first be known
That are to censure them

We are not the first
Who with best meaning have incurr'd the worst
For thee, oppressed king, am I cast down
Myself could else out-frown false fortune's frown
Shall we not see these daughters and these sisters

No, no, no, no! Come, let's away to prison
We two alone will sing like birds i' the 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 wall'd prison, packs and sects of great ones
That ebb and flow by the moon

Take them away

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 goodyears shall devour them, flesh and fell
Ere they shall make us weep: we'll see 'em starve first
Come

Come hither, captain; hark
Take thou this note go follow them to prison
One step I have advanc'd 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
Capt
I'll do't, my lord

About it; and write happy when thou hast done
Mark, -- I say, instantly; and carry it so
As I have set it down
Capt
I cannot draw a cart, nor eat dried oats
If it be man's work, I'll do't

Sir, you have show'd to-day your valiant strain
And fortune led you well: you have the captives
Who were the opposites of this day's strife
We do require them of you, so to use them
As we shall find their merits and our safety
May equally determine

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 impress'd lances in our eyes
Which do command them. With him I sent the queen
My reason all the same; and they are ready
To-morrow, 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 curs'd
By those that feel their sharpness
The question of Cordelia and her father
Requires a fitter place

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

That's as we list to grace him
Methinks our pleasure might have been demanded
Ere you had spoke so far. He led our powers
Bore the commission of my place and person
The which immediacy may well stand up
And call itself your brother

Not so hot
In his own grace he doth exalt himself
More than in your addition

In my rights
By me invested, he compeers the best

That were the most if he should husband you

Jesters do oft prove prophets

Holla, holla
That eye that told you so look'd but asquint

Lady, I am not well; else I should answer
From a full-flowing stomach. -- General
Take thou my soldiers, prisoners, patrimony
Dispose of them, of me; the walls are thine
Witness the world that I create thee here
My lord and master

Mean you to enjoy him

The let-alone lies not in your good will

Nor in thine, lord

Half-blooded fellow, yes

Let the drum strike, and prove my title thine

Stay yet; hear reason. -- Edmund, I arrest thee
On capital treason; and, in thine arrest
This gilded serpent, -- 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 your bans
If you will marry, make your loves to me
My lady is bespoke

An interlude

Thou art arm'd, Gloster: -- let the trumpet sound
If none appear to prove upon thy person
Thy heinous, manifest, and many treasons
There is my pledge; I'll prove it on thy
heart
Ere I taste bread, thou art in nothing less
Than I have here proclaim'd thee

Sick, O, sick

If not, I'll ne'er trust medicine

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

A herald, ho

A herald, ho, a herald

Trust to thy single virtue; for thy soldiers
All levied in my name, have in my name
Took their discharge

My sickness grows upon me

She is not well. Convey her to my tent
Come hither, herald. -- Let the trumpet sound
And read out this

Sound, trumpet

'If any man of quality or degree within the lists of
the army will maintain upon Edmund, supposed Earl of Gloster
that he is a manifold traitor, let him appear by the third sound
of the trumpet. He is bold in his defence.'

Sound

Again

Again

Ask him his purposes, why he appears
Upon this call o' the trumpet

What are you
Your name, your quality? and why you answer
This present summons

Know, my name is lost
By treason's tooth bare-gnawn and canker-bit
Yet am I noble as the adversary
I come to cope

Which is that adversary

What's he that speaks for Edmund Earl of Gloster

Himself: -- what say'st thou to him

Draw thy sword
That, if my speech offend a noble heart
Thy arm may do thee justice: here is mine
Behold, it is the privilege of mine honours
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 the extremest upward of thy head
To the descent and dust beneath thy foot
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

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
What safe and nicely I might well delay
By rule of knighthood, I disdain and spurn
Back do I toss those treasons to thy head
With the hell-hated lie o'erwhelm 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

Save him, save him

This is mere practice, Gloster
By the law of arms thou wast not bound to answer
An unknown opposite; thou art not vanquish'd
But cozen'd and beguil'd

Shut your mouth, dame
Or with this paper shall I stop it: -- Hold, sir
Thou worse than any name, read thine own evil
No tearing, lady; I perceive you know it

Say if I do, -- the laws are mine, not thine
Who can arraign me for't

Most monstrous
Know'st thou this paper

Ask me not what I know

Go after her: she's desperate; govern her

What, you have charg'd me with, that have I done
And more, much more; the time will bring it out
'Tis past, and so am I. -- But what art thou
That hast this fortune on me? If thou'rt noble
I do forgive thee

Let's exchange charity
I am no less in blood than thou art, Edmund
If more, the more thou hast wrong'd me
My name is Edgar, and thy father's son
The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices
Make instruments to plague us
The dark and vicious place where thee he got
Cost him his eyes

Thou hast spoken right; 'tis true
The wheel is come full circle; I am here

Methought thy very gait did prophesy
A royal nobleness: -- I must embrace thee
Let sorrow split my heart if ever I
Did hate thee or thy father

Worthy prince, I know't

Where have you hid yourself
How have you known the miseries of your father

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 follow'd me so near, -- O, our lives' sweetness
That with the pain of death we'd hourly die
Rather than die at once!) -- taught me to shift
Into a madman's rags; to assume a semblance
That very dogs disdain'd; and in this habit
Met I my father with his bleeding rings
Their precious stones new lost; became his guide
Led him, begg'd for him, sav'd him from despair
Never, -- O fault! -- reveal'd myself unto him
Until some half hour past, when I was arm'd
Not sure, though hoping of this good success
I ask'd his blessing, and from first to last
Told him my pilgrimage: but his flaw'd heart
Alack, too weak the conflict to support
'Twixt two extremes of passion, joy and grief
Burst smilingly

This speech of yours hath mov'd me
And shall perchance do good: but speak you on
You look as you had something more to say

If there be more, more woeful, hold it in
For I am almost ready to dissolve
Hearing of this

This would have seem'd 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 a man
Who, having seen me in my worst estate
Shunn'd my abhorr'd society; but then, finding
Who 'twas that so endur'd, with his strong arms
He fastened on my neck, and bellow'd out
As he'd burst heaven; threw him on my father
Told the most piteous tale of Lear and him
That ever ear receiv'd: 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 tranc'd

But who was this

Kent, sir, the banish'd Kent; who in disguise
Follow'd his enemy king and did him service
Improper for a slave

Help, help! O, help

What kind of help

Speak, man

What means that bloody knife

'Tis hot, it smokes
It came even from the heart of -- O! she's dead

Who dead? speak, man

Your lady, sir, your lady: and her sister
By her is poisoned; she hath confess'd it

I was contracted to them both: all three
Now marry in an instant

Here comes Kent

Produce their bodies, be they alive or dead
This judgement of the heavens, that makes us tremble
Touches us not with pity

O, is this he
The time will not allow the compliment
That very manners urges

I am come
To bid my king and master aye good night
Is he not here

Great thing of us forgot
Speak, Edmund, where's the king? and where's Cordelia
Seest thou this object, Kent

Alack, why thus

Yet Edmund was belov'd
The one the other poisoned for my sake
And after slew herself

Even so. -- Cover their faces

I pant for life: -- some good I mean to do
Despite of mine own nature. Quickly send
Be brief in it, -- to the castle; for my writ
Is on the life of Lear and on Cordelia
Nay, send in time

Run, run, O, run

To who, my lord? -- Who has the office? send
Thy token of reprieve

Well thought on: take my sword
Give it the Captain

Haste thee for thy life

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

The gods defend her! -- Bear him hence awhile

Howl, howl, howl, howl! -- O, you are men of stone
Had I your tongues and eyes, I'ld 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. -- Lend me a looking glass
If that her breath will mist or stain the stone
Why, then she lives

Is this the promis'd end

Or image of that horror

Fall, and cease

This feather stirs; she lives! If it be so
It is a chance which does redeem all sorrows
That ever I have felt

O my good master

Pr'ythee, away

'Tis noble Kent, your friend

A plague upon you, murderers, traitors all
I might have sav'd her; now she's gone for ever
Cordelia, Cordelia! stay a little. Ha
What is't thou say'st? -- Her voice was ever soft
Gentle, and low, -- an excellent thing in woman
I kill'd the slave that was a-hanging thee

'Tis true, my lords, he did

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. -- Who are you
Mine eyes are not o' the best: -- I'll tell you straight

If fortune brag of two she lov'd and hated
One of them we behold

This is a dull sight. Are you not Kent

The same Your servant Kent. -- Where is your servant Caius

He's a good fellow, I can tell you that
He'll strike, and quickly too: -- he's dead and rotten

No, my good lord; I am the very man

I'll see that straight

That from your first of difference and decay
Have follow'd your sad steps

You are welcome hither

Nor no man else: -- All's cheerless, dark, and deadly
Your eldest daughters have fordone themselves
And desperately are dead

Ay, so I think

He knows not what he says; and vain is it
That we present us to him Edgar Very bootless

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: -- 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

And my poor fool is hang'd! No, no, no life
Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life
And thou no breath at all? Thou'lt come no more
Never, never, never, never, never
Pray you undo this button: -- thank you, sir
Do you see this? Look on her! -- look! -- her lips
Look there, look there

He faints! -- My lord, my lord

Break, heart; I pr'ythee break

Look up, my lord

Vex not his ghost: O, let him pass! he hates him
That would upon the rack of this rough world
Stretch him out longer

He is gone indeed

The wonder is, he hath endur'd so long
He but usurp'd his life

Bear them from hence. -- Our present business
Is general woe. -- Friends of my soul, you twain
Rule in this realm, and the gor'd state sustain

I have a journey, sir, shortly to go
My master calls me, -- I must not say no

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