KING LEAR by William Shakespeare 1606 Act III

SCENE I - A heath     Storm still. Enter KENT and a Gentleman, meeting KENT     Who's there, besides foul weather? Gentleman     One minded like the weather, most unquietly. KENT     I know you. Where's the king? Gentleman     Contending with the fretful element:     Bids the winds blow the earth into the sea,     Or swell the curled water '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 out-scorn     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. KENT     But who is with him? Gentleman     None but the fool; who labours to out-jest     His heart-struck injuries. KENT     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     Throned 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. Gentleman     I will talk further with you. KENT     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. Gentleman     Give me your hand: have you no more to say? KENT     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.     Exeunt severally SCENE II - Another part of the heath. Storm still     Enter KING LEAR and Fool KING LEAR     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,     Smite flat the thick rotundity o' the world!     Crack nature's moulds, an germens spill at once,     That make ingrateful man! Fool     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 neither wise man nor fool. KING LEAR     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 despised old man:     But yet I call you servile ministers,     That have with two pernicious daughters join'd     Your high engender'd battles 'gainst a head     So old and white as this. O! O! 'tis foul! Fool     He that has a house to put's head in has a good     head-piece.     The cod-piece 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. KING LEAR     No, I will be the pattern of all patience;     I will say nothing.     Enter KENT KENT     Who's there? Fool     Marry, here's grace and a cod-piece; that's a wise     man and a fool. KENT     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     The affliction nor the fear. KING LEAR     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 perjured, and thou simular man of virtue     That art incestuous: caitiff, to pieces shake,     That under covert and convenient seeming     Hast practised 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. KENT     Alack, bare-headed!     Gracious my lord, hard by here is a hovel;     Some friendship will it lend you 'gainst the tempest:     Repose you there; while I to this hard house--     More harder than the stones whereof 'tis raised;     Which even but now, demanding after you,     Denied me to come in--return, and force     Their scanted courtesy. KING LEAR     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. Fool     [Singing]     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. KING LEAR     True, my good boy. Come, bring us to this hovel.     Exeunt KING LEAR and KENT Fool     This is a brave night to cool a courtezan.     I'll speak a prophecy ere I go:     When priests are more in word than matter;     When brewers mar their malt with water;     When nobles are their tailors' tutors;     No heretics burn'd, but wenches' suitors;     When every case in law is right;     No squire in debt, nor no poor knight;     When slanders do not live in tongues;     Nor cutpurses come not to throngs;     When usurers tell their gold i' the field;     And bawds and whores do churches build;     Then shall the realm of Albion     Come to great confusion:     Then comes the time, who lives to see't,     That going shall be used with feet.     This prophecy Merlin shall make; for I live before his time.     Exit SCENE III - Gloucester's castle     Enter GLOUCESTER and EDMUND GLOUCESTER     Alack, alack, Edmund, I like not this unnatural     dealing. When I desire their leave that I might     pity him, they took from me the use of mine own     house; charged me, on pain of their perpetual     displeasure, neither to speak of him, entreat for     him, nor any way sustain him. EDMUND     Most savage and unnatural! GLOUCESTER     Go to; say you nothing. There's a division betwixt     the dukes; and a worse matter than that: I have     received a letter this night; 'tis dangerous to be     spoken; I have locked the letter in my closet:     these injuries the king now bears will be revenged     home; there's part of a power already footed: we     must incline to the king. I will seek him, and     privily relieve him: go you and maintain talk with     the duke, that my charity be not of him perceived:     if he ask for me. I am ill, and gone to bed.     Though I die for it, as no less is threatened me,     the king my old master must be relieved. There is     some strange thing toward, Edmund; pray you, be careful.     Exit EDMUND     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.     Exit SCENE IV - The heath. Before a hovel     Enter KING LEAR, KENT, and Fool KENT     Here is the place, my lord; good my lord, enter:     The tyranny of the open night's too rough     For nature to endure.     Storm still KING LEAR     Let me alone. KENT     Good my lord, enter here. KING LEAR     Wilt break my heart? KENT     I had rather break mine own. Good my lord, enter. KING LEAR     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'ldst shun a bear;     But if thy flight lay toward the raging sea,     Thou'ldst 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. KENT     Good my lord, enter here. KING LEAR     Prithee, 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.     To the Fool     In, boy; go first. You houseless poverty,--     Nay, get thee in. I'll pray, and then I'll sleep.     Fool goes in     Poor naked wretches, whereso'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. EDGAR     [Within] Fathom and half, fathom and half! Poor Tom!     The Fool runs out from the hovel Fool     Come not in here, nuncle, here's a spirit     Help me, help me! KENT     Give me thy hand. Who's there? Fool     A spirit, a spirit: he says his name's poor Tom. KENT     What art thou that dost grumble there i' the straw?     Come forth.     Enter EDGAR disguised as a mad man EDGAR     Away! the foul fiend follows me!     Through the sharp hawthorn blows the cold wind.     Hum! go to thy cold bed, and warm thee. KING LEAR     Hast thou given all to thy two daughters?     And art thou come to this? EDGAR     Who gives any thing to poor Tom? whom the foul     fiend hath led through fire and through flame, and     through ford and whirlipool e'er bog and quagmire;     that hath laid knives under his pillow, and halters     in his pew; set ratsbane by his porridge; made film     proud of heart, to ride on a bay trotting-horse over     four-inched bridges, to course his own shadow for a     traitor. Bless thy five wits! Tom's a-cold,--O, do     de, do de, do de. Bless thee from whirlwinds,     star-blasting, and taking! Do poor Tom some     charity, whom the foul fiend vexes: there could I     have him now,--and there,--and there again, and there.     Storm still KING LEAR     What, have his daughters brought him to this pass?     Couldst thou save nothing? Didst thou give them all? Fool     Nay, he reserved a blanket, else we had been all shamed. KING LEAR     Now, all the plagues that in the pendulous air     Hang fated o'er men's faults light on thy daughters! KENT     He hath no daughters, sir. KING LEAR     Death, traitor! nothing could have subdued 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. EDGAR     Pillicock sat on Pillicock-hill:     Halloo, halloo, loo, loo! Fool     This cold night will turn us all to fools and madmen. EDGAR     Take heed o' the foul fiend: obey thy parents;     keep thy word justly; swear not; commit not with     man's sworn spouse; set not thy sweet heart on proud     array. Tom's a-cold. KING LEAR     What hast thou been? EDGAR     A serving-man, proud in heart and mind; that curled     my hair; wore gloves in my cap; served the lust of     my mistress' heart, and did the act of darkness with     her; swore as many oaths as I spake words, and     broke them in the sweet face of heaven: one that     slept in the contriving of lust, and waked to do it:     wine loved I deeply, dice dearly: and in woman     out-paramoured the Turk: false of heart, light of     ear, bloody of hand; hog in sloth, fox in stealth,     wolf in greediness, dog in madness, lion in prey.     Let not the creaking of shoes nor the rustling of     silks betray thy poor heart to woman: keep thy foot     out of brothels, thy hand out of plackets, thy pen     from lenders' books, and defy the foul fiend.     Still through the hawthorn blows the cold wind:     Says suum, mun, ha, no, nonny.     Dolphin my boy, my boy, sessa! let him trot by.     Storm still KING LEAR     Why, thou wert better in thy grave than to answer     with thy uncovered body this extremity of the skies.     Is man no more than this? Consider him well. Thou     owest the worm no silk, the beast no hide, the sheep     no wool, the cat no perfume. Ha! here's three on     's are sophisticated! Thou art the thing itself:     unaccommodated man is no more but such a poor bare,     forked animal as thou art. Off, off, you lendings!     come unbutton here.     Tearing off his clothes Fool     Prithee, nuncle, be contented; 'tis a naughty night     to swim in. Now a little fire in a wild field were     like an old lecher's heart; a small spark, all the     rest on's body cold. Look, here comes a walking fire.     Enter GLOUCESTER, with a torch EDGAR     This is the foul fiend Flibbertigibbet: he begins     at curfew, and walks till the first cock; he gives     the web and the pin, squints the eye, and makes the     hare-lip; mildews the white wheat, and hurts the     poor creature of earth.     S. Withold footed thrice the old;     He met the night-mare, and her nine-fold;     Bid her alight,     And her troth plight,     And, aroint thee, witch, aroint thee! KENT     How fares your grace? KING LEAR     What's he? KENT     Who's there? What is't you seek? GLOUCESTER     What are you there? Your names? EDGAR     Poor Tom; that eats the swimming frog, the toad,     the tadpole, the wall-newt and the water; that in     the fury of his heart, when the foul fiend rages,     eats cow-dung for sallets; swallows the old rat and     the ditch-dog; drinks the green mantle of the     standing pool; who is whipped from tithing to     tithing, and stock- punished, and imprisoned; who     hath had three suits to his back, six shirts to his     body, horse to ride, and weapon to wear;     But mice and rats, and such small deer,     Have been Tom's food for seven long year.     Beware my follower. Peace, Smulkin; peace, thou fiend! GLOUCESTER     What, hath your grace no better company? EDGAR     The prince of darkness is a gentleman:     Modo he's call'd, and Mahu. GLOUCESTER     Our flesh and blood is grown so vile, my lord,     That it doth hate what gets it. EDGAR     Poor Tom's a-cold. GLOUCESTER     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 ventured to come seek you out,     And bring you where both fire and food is ready. KING LEAR     First let me talk with this philosopher.     What is the cause of thunder? KENT     Good my lord, take his offer; go into the house. KING LEAR     I'll talk a word with this same learned Theban.     What is your study? EDGAR     How to prevent the fiend, and to kill vermin. KING LEAR     Let me ask you one word in private. KENT     Importune him once more to go, my lord;     His wits begin to unsettle. GLOUCESTER     Canst thou blame him?     Storm still     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 loved him, friend;     No father his son dearer: truth to tell thee,     The grief hath crazed my wits. What a night's this!     I do beseech your grace,-- KING LEAR     O, cry your mercy, sir.     Noble philosopher, your company. EDGAR     Tom's a-cold. GLOUCESTER     In, fellow, there, into the hovel: keep thee warm. KING LEAR     Come let's in all. KENT     This way, my lord. KING LEAR     With him;     I will keep still with my philosopher. KENT     Good my lord, soothe him; let him take the fellow. GLOUCESTER     Take him you on. KENT     Sirrah, come on; go along with us. KING LEAR     Come, good Athenian. GLOUCESTER     No words, no words: hush. EDGAR     Child Rowland to the dark tower came,     His word was still,--Fie, foh, and fum,     I smell the blood of a British man.     Exeunt SCENE V - Gloucester's castle     Enter CORNWALL and EDMUND CORNWALL     I will have my revenge ere I depart his house. EDMUND     How, my lord, I may be censured, that nature thus     gives way to loyalty, something fears me to think     of. CORNWALL     I now perceive, it was not altogether your     brother's evil disposition made him seek his death;     but a provoking merit, set a-work by a reprovable     badness in himself. EDMUND     How malicious is my fortune, that I must repent to     be just! This is the letter he spoke of, which     approves him an intelligent party to the advantages     of France: O heavens! that this treason were not,     or not I the detector! CORNWALL     o with me to the duchess. EDMUND     If the matter of this paper be certain, you have     mighty business in hand. CORNWALL     True or false, it hath made thee earl of     Gloucester. Seek out where thy father is, that he     may be ready for our apprehension. EDMUND     [Aside] If I find him comforting the king, it will     stuff his suspicion more fully.--I will persevere in     my course of loyalty, though the conflict be sore     between that and my blood. CORNWALL     I will lay trust upon thee; and thou shalt find a     dearer father in my love.     Exeunt SCENE VI - A chamber in a farmhouse adjoining the castle     Enter GLOUCESTER, KING LEAR, KENT, Fool, and EDGAR GLOUCESTER     Here is better than the open air; take it     thankfully. I will piece out the comfort with what     addition I can: I will not be long from you. KENT     All the power of his wits have given way to his     impatience: the gods reward your kindness!     Exit GLOUCESTER EDGAR     Frateretto calls me; and tells me     Nero is an angler in the lake of darkness.     Pray, innocent, and beware the foul fiend. Fool     Prithee, nuncle, tell me whether a madman be a     gentleman or a yeoman? KING LEAR     A king, a king! Fool     No, he's a yeoman that has a gentleman to his son;     for he's a mad yeoman that sees his son a gentleman     before him. KING LEAR     To have a thousand with red burning spits     Come hissing in upon 'em,-- EDGAR     The foul fiend bites my back. Fool     He's mad that trusts in the tameness of a wolf, a     horse's health, a boy's love, or a whore's oath. KING LEAR     It shall be done; I will arraign them straight.     To EDGAR     Come, sit thou here, most learned justicer;     To the Fool     Thou, sapient sir, sit here. Now, you she foxes! EDGAR     Look, where he stands and glares!     Wantest thou eyes at trial, madam?     Come o'er the bourn, Bessy, to me,-- Fool     Her boat hath a leak,     And she must not speak     Why she dares not come over to thee. EDGAR     The foul fiend haunts poor Tom in the voice of a     nightingale. Hopdance cries in Tom's belly for two     white herring. Croak not, black angel; I have no     food for thee. KENT     How do you, sir? Stand you not so amazed:     Will you lie down and rest upon the cushions? KING LEAR     I'll see their trial first. Bring in the evidence.     To EDGAR     Thou robed man of justice, take thy place;     To the Fool     And thou, his yoke-fellow of equity,     Bench by his side:     To KENT     you are o' the commission,     Sit you too. EDGAR     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.     Pur! the cat is gray. KING LEAR     Arraign her first; 'tis Goneril. I here take my     oath before this honourable assembly, she kicked the     poor king her father. Fool     Come hither, mistress. Is your name Goneril? KING LEAR     She cannot deny it. Fool     Cry you mercy, I took you for a joint-stool. KING LEAR     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? EDGAR     Bless thy five wits! KENT     O pity! Sir, where is the patience now,     That thou so oft have boasted to retain? EDGAR     [Aside] My tears begin to take his part so much,     They'll mar my counterfeiting. KING LEAR     The little dogs and all, Tray, Blanch, and     Sweet-heart, see, they bark at me. EDGAR     Tom will throw his head at them. Avaunt, you curs!     Be thy mouth or black or white,     Tooth that poisons if it bite;     Mastiff, grey-hound, mongrel grim,     Hound or spaniel, brach or lym,     Or bobtail tike or trundle-tail,     Tom will make them weep and wail:     For, with throwing thus my head,     Dogs leap the hatch, and all are fled.     Do de, de, de. Sessa! Come, march to wakes and     fairs and market-towns. Poor Tom, thy horn is dry. KING LEAR     Then let them anatomize Regan; see what breeds     about her heart. Is there any cause in nature that     makes these hard hearts?     To EDGAR     You, sir, I entertain for one of my hundred; only I     do not like the fashion of your garments: you will     say they are Persian attire: but let them be changed. KENT     Now, good my lord, lie here and rest awhile. KING LEAR     Make no noise, make no noise; draw the curtains:     so, so, so. We'll go to supper i' he morning. So, so, so. Fool     And I'll go to bed at noon.     Re-enter GLOUCESTER GLOUCESTER     Come hither, friend: where is the king my master? KENT     Here, sir; but trouble him not, his wits are gone. GLOUCESTER     Good friend, I prithee, 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. KENT     Oppressed nature sleeps:     This rest might yet have balm'd thy broken senses,     Which, if convenience will not allow,     Stand in hard cure.     To the Fool     Come, help to bear thy master;     Thou must not stay behind. GLOUCESTER     Come, come, away.     Exeunt all but EDGAR EDGAR     When we our betters see bearing our woes,     We scarcely think our miseries our foes.     Who alone suffers suffers most i' the mind,     Leaving free things and happy shows behind:     But then the mind much sufferance doth o'er skip,     When grief hath mates, and bearing fellowship.     How light and portable my pain seems now,     When that which makes me bend makes the king bow,     He childed as I father'd! Tom, away!     Mark the high noises; and thyself bewray,     When false opinion, whose wrong thought defiles thee,     In thy just proof, repeals and reconciles thee.     What will hap more to-night, safe 'scape the king!     Lurk, lurk.     Exit SCENE VII - Gloucester's castle     Enter CORNWALL, REGAN, GONERIL, EDMUND, and Servants CORNWALL     Post speedily to my lord your husband; show him     this letter: the army of France is landed. Seek     out the villain Gloucester.     Exeunt some of the Servants REGAN     Hang him instantly. GONERIL     Pluck out his eyes. CORNWALL     Leave him to my displeasure. Edmund, keep you our     sister company: the revenges we are bound to take     upon your traitorous father are not fit for your     beholding. Advise the duke, where you are going, to     a most festinate preparation: we are bound to the     like. Our posts shall be swift and intelligent     betwixt us. Farewell, dear sister: farewell, my     lord of Gloucester.     Enter OSWALD     How now! where's the king? OSWALD     My lord of Gloucester 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 lords dependants,     Are gone with him towards Dover; where they boast     To have well-armed friends. CORNWALL     Get horses for your mistress. GONERIL     Farewell, sweet lord, and sister. CORNWALL     Edmund, farewell.     Exeunt GONERIL, EDMUND, and OSWALD     Go seek the traitor Gloucester,     Pinion him like a thief, bring him before us.     Exeunt other Servants     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?     Enter GLOUCESTER, brought in by two or three REGAN     Ingrateful fox! 'tis he. CORNWALL     Bind fast his corky arms. GLOUCESTER     What mean your graces? Good my friends, consider     You are my guests: do me no foul play, friends. CORNWALL     Bind him, I say.     Servants bind him REGAN     Hard, hard. O filthy traitor! GLOUCESTER     Unmerciful lady as you are, I'm none. CORNWALL     To this chair bind him. Villain, thou shalt find--     REGAN plucks his beard GLOUCESTER     By the kind gods, 'tis most ignobly done     To pluck me by the beard. REGAN     So white, and such a traitor! GLOUCESTER     Naughty lady,     These hairs, which thou dost ravish from my chin,     Will quicken, and accuse thee: I am your host:     With robbers' hands my hospitable favours     You should not ruffle thus. What will you do? CORNWALL     Come, sir, what letters had you late from France? REGAN     Be simple answerer, for we know the truth. CORNWALL     And what confederacy have you with the traitors     Late footed in the kingdom? REGAN     To whose hands have you sent the lunatic king? Speak. GLOUCESTER     I have a letter guessingly set down,     Which came from one that's of a neutral heart,     And not from one opposed. CORNWALL     Cunning. REGAN     And false. CORNWALL     Where hast thou sent the king? GLOUCESTER     To Dover. REGAN     Wherefore to Dover? Wast thou not charged at peril-- CORNWALL     Wherefore to Dover? Let him first answer that. GLOUCESTER     I am tied to the stake, and I must stand the course. REGAN     Wherefore to Dover, sir? GLOUCESTER     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 endured, 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 subscribed: but I shall see     The winged vengeance overtake such children. CORNWALL     See't shalt thou never. Fellows, hold the chair.     Upon these eyes of thine I'll set my foot. GLOUCESTER     He that will think to live till he be old,     Give me some help! O cruel! O you gods! REGAN     One side will mock another; the other too. CORNWALL     If you see vengeance,-- First Servant     Hold your hand, my lord:     I have served you ever since I was a child;     But better service have I never done you     Than now to bid you hold. REGAN     How now, you dog! First Servant     If you did wear a beard upon your chin,     I'd shake it on this quarrel. What do you mean? CORNWALL     My villain!     They draw and fight First Servant     Nay, then, come on, and take the chance of anger. REGAN     Give me thy sword. A peasant stand up thus!     Takes a sword, and runs at him behind First Servant     O, I am slain! My lord, you have one eye left     To see some mischief on him. O!     Dies CORNWALL     Lest it see more, prevent it. Out, vile jelly!     Where is thy lustre now? GLOUCESTER     All dark and comfortless. Where's my son Edmund?     Edmund, enkindle all the sparks of nature,     To quit this horrid act. REGAN     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. GLOUCESTER     O my follies! then Edgar was abused.     Kind gods, forgive me that, and prosper him! REGAN     Go thrust him out at gates, and let him smell     His way to Dover.     Exit one with GLOUCESTER     How is't, my lord? how look you? CORNWALL     I have received 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.     Exit CORNWALL, led by REGAN Second Servant     I'll never care what wickedness I do,     If this man come to good. Third Servant     If she live long,     And in the end meet the old course of death,     Women will all turn monsters. Second Servant     Let's follow the old earl, and get the Bedlam     To lead him where he would: his roguish madness     Allows itself to any thing. Third Servant     Go thou: I'll fetch some flax and whites of eggs     To apply to his bleeding face. Now, heaven help him!     Exeunt severally

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