Act 4

Scene VI

Fields near Dover.

	Enter Gloucester, and Edgar* dressed like a peasant.*
Gloucester	When shall we come to the top of that same hill?
Edgar	You do climb up it now: look, how we labour.
Gloucester	Methinks the ground is even.
Edgar	Horrible steep. Hark, do you hear the sea?
Gloucester	No, truly.
Edgar	Why, then, your other senses grow imperfect By your eyes’ anguish.
Gloucester	So may it be, indeed: Methinks thy voice is alter’d; and thou speak’st In better phrase and matter than thou didst.
Edgar	You’re much deceived: in nothing am I changed But in my garments.
Gloucester	Methinks you’re better spoken.
Edgar	Come on, sir; here’s the place: stand still. How fearful 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 pebbles chafes, Cannot be heard so high. I’ll look no more; Lest my brain turn, and the deficient sight Topple down headlong.
Gloucester	Set me where you stand.
Edgar	Give me your hand: you are now within a foot Of the extreme verge: for all beneath the moon Would I not leap upright.
Gloucester	Let go my hand. Here, friend, ’s another purse; in it a jewel Well worth a poor man’s taking: fairies and gods Prosper it with thee! Go thou farther off; Bid me farewell, and let me hear thee going.
Edgar	Now fare you well, good sir.
Gloucester	With all my heart.
Edgar	Why I do trifle thus with his despair Is done to cure it.
Gloucester	Kneeling. O you mighty gods! This world I do renounce, and, in your sights, Shake patiently my great affliction off: If I could bear it longer, and not fall To quarrel with your great opposeless wills, My snuff and loathed part of nature should Burn itself out. If Edgar live, O, bless him! Now, fellow, fare thee well. He falls forward.
Edgar	Gone, sir: farewell. 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?
Gloucester	Away, and let me die.
Edgar	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’s a miracle. Speak yet again.
Gloucester	But have I fall’n, or no?
Edgar	From the dread summit of this chalky bourn. Look up a-height; the shrill-gorged lark so far Cannot be seen or heard: do but look up.
Gloucester	Alack, I have no eyes. Is wretchedness deprived that benefit, To end itself by death? ’Twas yet some comfort, When misery could beguile the tyrant’s rage, And frustrate his proud will.
Edgar	Give me your arm: Up: so. How is ’t? Feel you your legs? You stand.
Gloucester	Too well, too well.
Edgar	This is above all strangeness. Upon the crown o’ the cliff, what thing was that Which parted from you?
Gloucester	A poor unfortunate beggar.
Edgar	As I stood here below, methought his eyes Were two full moons; he had a thousand noses, Horns whelk’d and waved like the enridged sea: It was some fiend; therefore, thou happy father, Think that the clearest gods, who make them honours Of men’s impossibilities, have preserved thee.
Gloucester	I do remember now: henceforth I’ll bear Affliction till it do cry out itself “Enough, enough,” and die. That thing you speak of, I took it for a man; often ’twould say “The fiend, the fiend:” he led me to that place.
Edgar	Bear free and patient thoughts. But who comes here?
	Enter King Lear, fantastically dressed with wild flowers.
	The safer sense will ne’er accommodate His master thus.
King Lear	No, they cannot touch me for coining; I am the king himself.
Edgar	O thou side-piercing sight!
King Lear	Nature’s above art in that respect. There’s your press-money. That fellow handles his bow like a crow-keeper: draw me a clothier’s yard. Look, look, a mouse! Peace, peace; this piece of toasted cheese will do ’t. There’s my gauntlet; I’ll prove it on a giant. Bring up the brown bills. O, well flown, bird! i’ the clout, i’ the clout: hewgh! Give the word.
Edgar	Sweet marjoram.
King Lear	Pass.
Gloucester	I know that voice.
King Lear	Ha! Goneril, with a white beard! They flattered me like a dog; and told me I had white hairs in my beard ere the black ones were there. To say “ay” and “no” to every thing that I said!⁠—“Ay” and “no” too was no good divinity. When the rain came to wet me once, and the wind to make me chatter; when the thunder would not peace at my bidding; there I found ’em, there I smelt ’em out. Go to, they are not men o’ their words: they told me I was every thing; ’tis a lie, I am not ague-proof.
Gloucester	The trick of that voice I do well remember: Is ’t not the king?
King Lear	Ay, every inch a king: When I do stare, see how the subject quakes. I pardon that man’s life. What was thy cause? Adultery? Thou shalt not die: die for adultery! No: The wren goes to ’t, and the small gilded fly Does lecher in my sight. Let copulation thrive; for Gloucester’s bastard son Was kinder to his father than my daughters Got ’tween the lawful sheets. 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 fiends’;
	There’s hell, there’s darkness, there’s the sulphurous pit, Burning, scalding, stench, consumption; fie, fie, fie! pah, pah! Give me an ounce of civet, good apothecary, to sweeten my imagination: there’s money for thee.
Gloucester	O, let me kiss that hand!
King Lear	Let me wipe it first; it smells of mortality.
Gloucester	O ruin’d piece of nature! This great world Shall so wear out to nought. Dost thou know me?
King Lear	I remember thine eyes well enough. Dost thou squiny at me? No, do thy worst, blind Cupid! I’ll not love. Read thou this challenge; mark but the penning of it.
Gloucester	Were all the letters suns, I could not see one.
Edgar	I would not take this from report; it is, And my heart breaks at it.
King Lear	Read.
Gloucester	What, with the case of eyes?
King Lear	O, ho, are you there with me? No eyes in your head, nor no money in your purse? Your eyes are in a heavy case, your purse in a light; yet you see how this world goes.
Gloucester	I see it feelingly.
King Lear	What, art mad? A man may see how this world goes with no eyes. Look with thine ears: see how yond justice rails upon yond simple thief. Hark, in thine ear: change places; and, handy-dandy, which is the justice, which is the thief? Thou hast seen a farmer’s dog bark at a beggar?
Gloucester	Ay, sir.
King Lear	And the creature run from the cur? There thou mightst behold the great image of authority: a dog’s obeyed in office.
	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.
Edgar	O, matter and impertinency mix’d! Reason in madness!
King Lear	If thou wilt weep my fortunes, take my eyes. I know thee well enough; thy name is Gloucester: Thou must be patient; we came crying hither: Thou know’st, the first time that we smell the air, We wawl and cry. I will preach to thee: mark.
Gloucester	Alack, alack the day!
King Lear	When we are born, we cry that we are come To this great stage of fools: this a good block; It were a delicate stratagem, to shoe A troop of horse with felt: I’ll put ’t in proof; And when I have stol’n upon these sons-in-law, Then, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill!
	Enter a Gentleman, with Attendants.
Gentleman	O, here he is: lay hand upon him. Sir, Your most dear daughter⁠—
King Lear	No rescue? What, a prisoner? I am even The natural fool of fortune. Use me well; You shall have ransom. Let me have surgeons; I am cut to the brains.
Gentleman	You shall have any thing.
King Lear	No seconds? all myself? Why, this would make a man a man of salt, To use his eyes for garden water-pots, Ay, and laying autumn’s dust.
Gentleman	Good sir⁠—
King Lear	I will die bravely, like a bridegroom. What! I will be jovial: come, come; I am a king, My masters, know you that.
Gentleman	You are a royal one, and we obey you.
King Lear	Then there’s life in’t. Nay, if you get it, you shall get it with running. Sa, sa, sa, sa. Exit running; Attendants follow.
Gentleman	A sight most pitiful in the meanest wretch, Past speaking of in a king! Thou hast one daughter, Who redeems nature from the general curse Which twain have brought her to.
Edgar	Hail, gentle sir.
Gentleman	Sir, speed you: what’s your will?
Edgar	Do you hear aught, sir, of a battle toward?
Gentleman	Most sure and vulgar: every one hears that, Which can distinguish sound.
Edgar	But, by your favour, How near’s the other army?
Gentleman	Near and on speedy foot; the main descry Stands on the hourly thought.
Edgar	I thank you, sir: that’s all.
Gentleman	Though that the queen on special cause is here, Her army is moved on.
Edgar	I thank you, sir. Exit Gentleman.
Gloucester	You ever-gentle gods, take my breath from me: Let not my worser spirit tempt me again To die before you please!
Edgar	Well pray you, father.
Gloucester	Now, good sir, what are you?
Edgar	A most poor man, made tame to fortune’s blows; Who, by the art of known and feeling sorrows, Am pregnant to good pity. Give me your hand, I’ll lead you to some biding.
Gloucester	Hearty thanks: The bounty and the benison of heaven To boot, and boot!
	Enter Oswald.
Oswald	A proclaim’d prize! Most happy! That eyeless head of thine was first framed flesh To raise my fortunes. Thou old unhappy traitor, Briefly thyself remember: the sword is out That must destroy thee.
Gloucester	Now let thy friendly hand Put strength enough to’t. Edgar interposes.
Oswald	Wherefore, bold peasant, Darest thou support a publish’d traitor? Hence; Lest that the infection of his fortune take Like hold on thee. Let go his arm.
Edgar	Ch’ill not let go, zir, without vurther ’casion.
Oswald	Let go, slave, or thou diest!
Edgar	Good gentleman, go your gait, and let poor volk pass. An chud ha’ bin zwaggered out of my life, ’twould not ha’ bin zo long as ’tis by a vortnight. Nay, come not near th’ old man; keep out, che vor ye, or ise try whether your costard or my ballow be the harder: ch’ill be plain with you.
Oswald	Out, dunghill!
Edgar	Ch’ill pick your teeth, zir: come; no matter vor your foins. They fight, and Edgar* knocks him down.*
Oswald	Slave, thou hast slain me: villain, take my purse: If ever thou wilt thrive, bury my body; And give the letters which thou find’st about me To Edmund earl of Gloucester; seek him out Upon the British party: O, untimely death! Dies.
Edgar	I know thee well: a serviceable villain; As duteous to the vices of thy mistress As badness would desire.
Gloucester	What, is he dead?
Edgar	Sit you down, father; rest you Let’s see these pockets: the letters that he speaks of May be my friends. He’s dead; I am only sorry He had no other death’s-man. Let us see: Leave, gentle wax; and, manners, blame us not: To know our enemies’ minds, we’ld rip their hearts; Their papers, is more lawful.
	Reads. “Let our reciprocal vows be remembered. You have many opportunities to cut him off: if your will want not, time and place will be fruitfully offered. There is nothing done, if he return the conqueror: then am I the prisoner, and his bed my goal; from the loathed warmth whereof deliver me, and supply the place for your labour. “Your⁠—wife, so I would say⁠— Affectionate servant, “Goneril.”
	O undistinguish’d space of woman’s will! A plot upon her virtuous husband’s life; And the exchange my brother! Here, in the sands, Thee I’ll rake up, the post unsanctified Of murderous lechers: and in the mature time With this ungracious paper strike the sight Of the death practised duke: for him ’tis well That of thy death and business I can tell.
Gloucester	The king is mad: how stiff is my vile sense, That I stand up, and have ingenious feeling Of my huge sorrows! Better I were distract: So should my thoughts be sever’d from my griefs, And woes by wrong imaginations lose The knowledge of themselves.
Edgar	Give me your hand: Drum afar off. Far off, methinks, I hear the beaten drum: Come, father, I’ll bestow you with a friend. Exeunt.