Act 3. Scene VI

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

Act 3. Scene V

Enter CORNWALL and EDMUND
CORNWALL
 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.

Act 3. Scene V

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.

Act 3. Scene IV

 

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

Act 3. Scene III

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