Part IV, The Early Modern Literary Period, also known as the English Renaissance
40
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ACT 5
Scene 1
Enter, with Drum and Colors, Edmund, Regan,
Gentlemen, and Soldiers.
EDMUND, to a Gentleman
Know of the Duke if his last purpose hold,
Or whether since he is advised by aught
To change the course. He’s full of alteration
And self-reproving. Bring his constant pleasure.
A Gentleman exits.
REGAN
Our sister’s man is certainly miscarried. 5
EDMUND
’Tis to be doubted, madam.
REGAN 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? 10
EDMUND In honored love.
REGAN
But have you never found my brother’s way
To the forfended place?
EDMUND That thought abuses you.
REGAN
I am doubtful that you have been conjunct 15
And bosomed with her as far as we call hers.
EDMUND No, by mine honor, madam.
REGAN
I never shall endure her. Dear my lord,
Be not familiar with her.
EDMUND
Fear me not. She and the Duke, her husband. 20
Enter, with Drum and Colors, Albany, Goneril, Soldiers.
GONERIL, aside
I had rather lose the battle than that sister
Should loosen him and me.
ALBANY
Our very loving sister, well bemet.—
Sir, this I heard: the King is come to his daughter,
With others whom the rigor of our state 25
Forced to cry out. Where I could not be honest,
I never yet was valiant. For this business,
It touches us as France invades our land,
Not bolds the King, with others whom, I fear,
Most just and heavy causes make oppose. 30
EDMUND
Sir, you speak nobly.
REGAN Why is this reasoned?
GONERIL
Combine together ’gainst the enemy,
For these domestic and particular broils
Are not the question here. 35
ALBANY Let’s then determine
With th’ ancient of war on our proceeding.
EDMUND
I shall attend you presently at your tent.
REGAN Sister, you’ll go with us?
GONERIL No. 40
REGAN
’Tis most convenient. Pray, go with us.
GONERIL, aside
Oho, I know the riddle.—I will go.
They begin to exit.
Enter Edgar dressed as a peasant.
EDGAR, to Albany
If e’er your Grace had speech with man so poor,
Hear me one word.
ALBANY, to those exiting
I’ll overtake you.—Speak. 45
Both the armies exit.
EDGAR, giving him a paper
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 avouchèd there. If you miscarry, 50
Your business of the world hath so an end,
And machination ceases. Fortune love you.
ALBANY Stay till I have read the letter.
EDGAR I was forbid it.
When time shall serve, let but the herald cry 55
And I’ll appear again. He exits.
ALBANY
Why, fare thee well. I will o’erlook thy paper.
Enter Edmund.
EDMUND
The enemy’s in view. Draw up your powers.
Giving him a paper.
Here is the guess of their true strength and forces
By diligent discovery. But your haste 60
Is now urged on you.
ALBANY We will greet the time.
He exits.
EDMUND
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? 65
Both? One? Or neither? Neither can be enjoyed
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 70
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, 75
Shall never see his pardon, for my state
Stands on me to defend, not to debate.
He exits.
Scene 2
Alarum within. Enter, with Drum and Colors, Lear,
Cordelia, and Soldiers, over the stage, and exit.
Enter Edgar and Gloucester.
EDGAR
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.
GLOUCESTER Grace go with you, sir. 5
Edgar exits.
Alarum and Retreat within.
Enter Edgar.
EDGAR
Away, old man. Give me thy hand. Away.
King Lear hath lost, he and his daughter ta’en.
Give me thy hand. Come on.
GLOUCESTER
No further, sir. A man may rot even here.
EDGAR
What, in ill thoughts again? Men must endure 10
Their going hence even as their coming hither.
Ripeness is all. Come on.
GLOUCESTER And that’s true too.
They exit.
Scene 3
Enter in conquest, with Drum and Colors, Edmund;
Lear and Cordelia as prisoners; Soldiers, Captain.
EDMUND
Some officers take them away. Good guard
Until their greater pleasures first be known
That are to censure them.
CORDELIA, to Lear We are not the first
Who with best meaning have incurred the worst. 5
For thee, oppressèd king, I am cast down.
Myself could else outfrown false Fortune’s frown.
Shall we not see these daughters and these sisters?
LEAR
No, no, no, no. Come, let’s away to prison.
We two alone will sing like birds i’ th’ cage. 10
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— 15
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 walled prison, packs and sects of great ones
That ebb and flow by th’ moon. 20
EDMUND Take them away.
LEAR
Upon such sacrifices, my Cordelia,
The gods themselves throw incense. Have I caught
thee?
He that parts us shall bring a brand from heaven 25
And fire us hence like foxes. Wipe thine eyes.
The good years shall devour them, flesh and fell,
Ere they shall make us weep. We’ll see ’em starved
first.
Come. 30
Lear and Cordelia exit, with Soldiers.
EDMUND Come hither, captain. Hark.
Handing him a paper.
Take thou this note. Go follow them to prison.
One step I have advanced thee. If thou dost
As this instructs thee, thou dost make thy way
To noble fortunes. Know thou this: that men 35
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.
CAPTAIN I’ll do ’t, my lord. 40
EDMUND
About it, and write “happy” when th’ hast done.
Mark, I say, instantly, and carry it so
As I have set it down.
CAPTAIN
I cannot draw a cart, nor eat dried oats.
If it be man’s work, I’ll do ’t. Captain exits. 45
Flourish. Enter Albany, Goneril, Regan, Soldiers and a
Captain.
ALBANY, to Edmund
Sir, you have showed today your valiant strain,
And Fortune led you well. You have the captives
Who were the opposites of this day’s strife.
I do require them of you, so to use them
As we shall find their merits and our safety 50
May equally determine.
EDMUND Sir, I thought it fit
To send the old and miserable king
To some retention and appointed guard,
Whose age had charms in it, whose title more, 55
To pluck the common bosom on his side
And turn our impressed lances in our eyes,
Which do command them. With him I sent the
Queen,
My reason all the same, and they are ready 60
Tomorrow, or at further space, t’ 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 cursed
By those that feel their sharpness. 65
The question of Cordelia and her father
Requires a fitter place.
ALBANY Sir, by your patience,
I hold you but a subject of this war,
Not as a brother. 70
REGAN 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 75
And call itself your brother.
GONERIL Not so hot.
In his own grace he doth exalt himself
More than in your addition.
REGAN In my rights, 80
By me invested, he compeers the best.
GONERIL
That were the most if he should husband you.
REGAN
Jesters do oft prove prophets.
GONERIL Holla, holla!
That eye that told you so looked but asquint. 85
REGAN
Lady, I am not well, else I should answer
From a full-flowing stomach. To Edmund.
General,
Take thou my soldiers, prisoners, patrimony.
Dispose of them, of me; the walls is thine. 90
Witness the world that I create thee here
My lord and master.
GONERIL Mean you to enjoy him?
ALBANY
The let-alone lies not in your goodwill.
EDMUND
Nor in thine, lord. 95
ALBANY Half-blooded fellow, yes.
REGAN, to Edmund
Let the drum strike, and prove my title thine.
ALBANY
Stay yet, hear reason.—Edmund, I arrest thee
On capital treason; and, in thine attaint,
This gilded serpent.—For your claim, fair 100
sister,
I bar it in the interest of my wife.
’Tis she is subcontracted to this lord,
And I, her husband, contradict your banns.
If you will marry, make your loves to me. 105
My lady is bespoke.
GONERIL An interlude!
ALBANY
Thou art armed, Gloucester. Let the trumpet sound.
If none appear to prove upon thy person
Thy heinous, manifest, and many treasons, 110
There is my pledge. He throws down a glove.
I’ll make it on thy heart,
Ere I taste bread, thou art in nothing less
Than I have here proclaimed thee.
REGAN Sick, O, sick! 115
GONERIL, aside If not, I’ll ne’er trust medicine.
EDMUND
There’s my exchange. He throws down a glove.
What in the world he is
That names me traitor, villain-like he lies.
Call by the trumpet. He that dares approach, 120
On him, on you, who not, I will maintain
My truth and honor firmly.
ALBANY
A herald, ho!
EDMUND A herald, ho, a herald!
ALBANY
Trust to thy single virtue, for thy soldiers, 125
All levied in my name, have in my name
Took their discharge.
REGAN My sickness grows upon me.
ALBANY
She is not well. Convey her to my tent.
Regan is helped to exit.
Enter a Herald.
Come hither, herald. Let the trumpet sound, 130
And read out this. He hands the Herald a paper.
CAPTAIN Sound, trumpet!
A trumpet sounds.
HERALD reads.
If any man of quality or degree, within the lists of the
army, will maintain upon Edmund, supposed Earl of
Gloucester, that he is a manifold traitor, let him 135
appear by the third sound of the trumpet. He is bold in
his defense. First trumpet sounds.
HERALD Again! Second trumpet sounds.
HERALD Again! Third trumpet sounds.
Trumpet answers within.
Enter Edgar armed.
ALBANY, to Herald
Ask him his purposes, why he appears 140
Upon this call o’ th’ trumpet.
HERALD What are you?
Your name, your quality, and why you answer
This present summons?
EDGAR Know my name is lost, 145
By treason’s tooth bare-gnawn and canker-bit.
Yet am I noble as the adversary
I come to cope.
ALBANY Which is that adversary?
EDGAR
What’s he that speaks for Edmund, Earl of 150
Gloucester?
EDMUND
Himself. What sayest thou to him?
EDGAR Draw thy sword,
That if my speech offend a noble heart,
Thy arm may do thee justice. Here is mine. 155
He draws his sword.
Behold, it is my privilege, the privilege of mine
honors,
My oath, and my profession. I protest,
Maugre thy strength, place, youth, and eminence,
Despite thy victor-sword and fire-new fortune, 160
Thy valor, and thy heart, thou art a traitor,
False to thy gods, thy brother, and thy father,
Conspirant ’gainst this high illustrious prince,
And from th’ extremest upward of thy head
To the descent and dust below thy foot, 165
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.
EDMUND In wisdom I should ask thy name, 170
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 these treasons to thy head, 175
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 forever. Trumpets, speak!
He draws his sword. Alarums. Fights.
Edmund falls, wounded.
ALBANY, to Edgar
Save him, save him! 180
GONERIL This is practice, Gloucester.
By th’ law of war, thou wast not bound to answer
An unknown opposite. Thou art not vanquished,
But cozened and beguiled.
ALBANY Shut your mouth, dame, 185
Or with this paper shall I stopple it.—Hold, sir.—
Thou worse than any name, read thine own evil.
No tearing, lady. I perceive you know it.
GONERIL
Say if I do; the laws are mine, not thine.
Who can arraign me for ’t? 190
ALBANY Most monstrous! O!
Know’st thou this paper?
GONERIL Ask me not what I know.
She exits.
ALBANY
Go after her, she’s desperate. Govern her.
A Soldier exits.
EDMUND, to Edgar
What you have charged me with, that have I done, 195
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.
EDGAR Let’s exchange charity. 200
I am no less in blood than thou art, Edmund;
If more, the more th’ hast wronged me.
My name is Edgar and thy father’s son.
The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices
Make instruments to plague us. 205
The dark and vicious place where thee he got
Cost him his eyes.
EDMUND Th’ hast spoken right. ’Tis true.
The wheel is come full circle; I am here.
ALBANY, to Edgar
Methought thy very gait did prophesy 210
A royal nobleness. I must embrace thee.
Let sorrow split my heart if ever I
Did hate thee or thy father!
EDGAR Worthy prince, I know ’t.
ALBANY Where have you hid yourself? 215
How have you known the miseries of your father?
EDGAR
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 followed me so near—O, our lives’ sweetness, 220
That we the pain of death would hourly die
Rather than die at once!—taught me to shift
Into a madman’s rags, t’ assume a semblance
That very dogs disdained, and in this habit
Met I my father with his bleeding rings, 225
Their precious stones new lost; became his guide,
Led him, begged for him, saved him from despair.
Never—O fault!—revealed myself unto him
Until some half hour past, when I was armed.
Not sure, though hoping of this good success, 230
I asked his blessing, and from first to last
Told him our pilgrimage. But his flawed heart
(Alack, too weak the conflict to support)
’Twixt two extremes of passion, joy and grief,
Burst smilingly. 235
EDMUND This speech of yours hath moved me,
And shall perchance do good. But speak you on.
You look as you had something more to say.
ALBANY
If there be more, more woeful, hold it in,
For I am almost ready to dissolve, 240
Hearing of this.
EDGAR This would have seemed a period
To such as love not sorrow; but another,
To amplify too much, would make much more
And top extremity. Whilst I 245
Was big in clamor, came there in a man
Who, having seen me in my worst estate,
Shunned my abhorred society; but then, finding
Who ’twas that so endured, with his strong arms
He fastened on my neck and bellowed out 250
As he’d burst heaven, threw him on my father,
Told the most piteous tale of Lear and him
That ever ear received, which, in recounting,
His grief grew puissant, and the strings of life
Began to crack. Twice then the trumpets sounded, 255
And there I left him tranced.
ALBANY But who was this?
EDGAR
Kent, sir, the banished Kent, who in disguise
Followed his enemy king and did him service
Improper for a slave. 260
Enter a Gentleman with a bloody knife.
GENTLEMAN
Help, help, O, help!
EDGAR What kind of help?
ALBANY, to Gentleman Speak, man!
EDGAR What means this bloody knife?
GENTLEMAN
’Tis hot, it smokes! It came even from the heart 265
Of—O, she’s dead!
ALBANY Who dead? Speak, man.
GENTLEMAN
Your lady, sir, your lady. And her sister
By her is poisoned. She confesses it.
EDMUND
I was contracted to them both. All three 270
Now marry in an instant.
EDGAR Here comes Kent.
Enter Kent.
ALBANY, to the Gentleman
Produce the bodies, be they alive or dead.
Gentleman exits.
This judgment of the heavens, that makes us
tremble, 275
Touches us not with pity. O, is this he?
To Kent. The time will not allow the compliment
Which very manners urges.
KENT I am come
To bid my king and master aye goodnight. 280
Is he not here?
ALBANY Great thing of us forgot!
Speak, Edmund, where’s the King? And where’s
Cordelia?
Goneril and Regan’s bodies brought out.
Seest thou this object, Kent? 285
KENT Alack, why thus?
EDMUND Yet Edmund was beloved.
The one the other poisoned for my sake,
And after slew herself.
ALBANY Even so.—Cover their faces. 290
EDMUND
I pant for life. Some good I mean to do
Despite of mine own nature. Quickly send—
Be brief in it—to th’ castle, for my writ
Is on the life of Lear, and on Cordelia.
Nay, send in time. 295
ALBANY Run, run, O, run!
EDGAR
To who, my lord? To Edmund. Who has the office?
Send
Thy token of reprieve.
EDMUND
Well thought on. Take my sword. Give it the 300
Captain.
EDGAR, to a Soldier Haste thee for thy life.
The Soldier exits with Edmund’s sword.
EDMUND, to Albany
He hath commission from thy wife and me
To hang Cordelia in the prison, and
To lay the blame upon her own despair, 305
That she fordid herself.
ALBANY
The gods defend her!—Bear him hence awhile.
Edmund is carried off.
Enter Lear with Cordelia in his arms,
followed by a Gentleman.
LEAR
Howl, howl, howl! O, you are men of stones!
Had I your tongues and eyes, I’d use them so
That heaven’s vault should crack. She’s gone 310
forever.
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. 315
KENT Is this the promised end?
EDGAR
Or image of that horror?
ALBANY Fall and cease.
LEAR
This feather stirs. She lives. If it be so,
It is a chance which does redeem all sorrows 320
That ever I have felt.
KENT O, my good master—
LEAR
Prithee, away.
EDGAR ’Tis noble Kent, your friend.
LEAR
A plague upon you, murderers, traitors all! 325
I might have saved her. Now she’s gone forever.—
Cordelia, Cordelia, stay a little. Ha!
What is ’t thou sayst?—Her voice was ever soft,
Gentle, and low, an excellent thing in woman.
I killed the slave that was a-hanging thee. 330
GENTLEMAN
’Tis true, my lords, he did.
LEAR Did I not, fellow?
I have seen the day, with my good biting falchion
I would have made him skip. I am old now,
And these same crosses spoil me. To Kent. Who 335
are you?
Mine eyes are not o’ th’ best. I’ll tell you straight.
KENT
If Fortune brag of two she loved and hated,
One of them we behold.
LEAR
This is a dull sight. Are you not Kent? 340
KENT The same,
Your servant Kent. Where is your servant Caius?
LEAR
He’s a good fellow, I can tell you that.
He’ll strike and quickly too. He’s dead and rotten.
KENT
No, my good lord, I am the very man— 345
LEAR I’ll see that straight.
KENT
That from your first of difference and decay
Have followed your sad steps.
LEAR You are welcome
hither. 350
KENT
Nor no man else. All’s cheerless, dark, and deadly.
Your eldest daughters have fordone themselves,
And desperately are dead.
LEAR Ay, so I think.
ALBANY
He knows not what he says, and vain is it 355
That we present us to him.
EDGAR Very bootless.
Enter a Messenger.
MESSENGER Edmund is dead, my lord.
ALBANY That’s but a trifle here.—
You lords and noble friends, know our intent: 360
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 Honors 365
Have more than merited. All friends shall taste
The wages of their virtue, and all foes
The cup of their deservings. O, see, see!
LEAR
And my poor fool is hanged. No, no, no life?
Why should a dog, a horse, a rat have life, 370
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 dies. 375
EDGAR He faints. To Lear. My lord,
my lord!
KENT
Break, heart, I prithee, break!
EDGAR Look up, my lord.
KENT
Vex not his ghost. O, let him pass! He hates him 380
That would upon the rack of this tough world
Stretch him out longer.
EDGAR He is gone indeed.
KENT
The wonder is he hath endured so long.
He but usurped his life. 385
ALBANY
Bear them from hence. Our present business
Is general woe. To Edgar and Kent. Friends of my
soul, you twain
Rule in this realm, and the gored state sustain.
KENT
I have a journey, sir, shortly to go; 390
My master calls me. I must not say no.
EDGAR
The weight of this sad time we must obey,
Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say.
The oldest hath borne most; we that are young
Shall never see so much nor live so long. 395
They exit with a dead march.