A Tent in the French Camp. | |
| |
Enter CORDELIA, KENT, Doctor, and Gentleman. | |
| Cor. O thou good Kent! how shall I live and work | |
| To match thy goodness? My life will be too short, | 4 |
| And every measure fail me. | |
| Kent. To be acknowledg’d, madam, is o’erpaid. | |
| All my reports go with the modest truth, | |
| Nor more nor clipp’d, but so. | 8 |
| Cor. Be better suited: | |
| These weeds are memories of those worser hours: | |
| I prithee, put them off. | |
| Kent. Pardon me, dear madam; | 12 |
| Yet to be known shortens my made intent: | |
| My boon I make it that you know me not | |
| Till time and I think meet. | |
| Cor. Then be ’t so, my good lord.—[To the Doctor.] How does the king? | 16 |
| Doc. Madam, sleeps still. | |
| Cor. O you kind gods, | |
| Cure this great breach in his abused nature! | |
| The untun’d and jarring senses, O! wind up | 20 |
| Of this child-changed father! | |
| Doc. So please your majesty | |
| That we may wake the king? he hath slept long. | |
| Cor. Be govern’d by your knowledge, and proceed | 24 |
| I’ the sway of your own will. Is he array’d? | |
| |
Enter LEAR in his chair, carried by Servants. | |
| Gent. Ay, madam; in the heaviness of sleep, | |
| We put fresh garments on him. | 28 |
| Doc. Be by, good madam, when we do awake him; | |
| I doubt not of his temperance. | |
| Cor. Very well. [Music. | |
| Doc. Please you, draw near. Louder the music there. | 32 |
| Cor. 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! | 36 |
| Kent. Kind and dear princess! | |
| Cor. Had you not been their father, these white flakes | |
| Had challeng’d pity of them. Was this a face | |
| To be expos’d against the warring winds? | 40 |
| 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, | 44 |
| 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! | 48 |
| ’Tis wonder that thy life and wits at once | |
| Had not concluded all. He wakes; speak to him. | |
| Doc. Madam, do you; ’tis fittest. | |
| Cor. How does my royal lord? How fares your majesty? | 52 |
| Lear. 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. | 56 |
| Cor. Sir, do you know me? | |
| Lear. You are a spirit, I know; when did you die? | |
| Cor. Still, still, far wide. | |
| Doc. He’s scarce awake; let him alone a-while. | 60 |
| Lear. Where have I been? Where am I? Fair day-light? | |
| I am mightily abus’d. I should even die with pity | |
| To see another thus. I know not what to say. | |
| I will not swear these are my hands: let’s see; | 64 |
| I feel this pin prick. Would I were assur’d | |
| Of my condition! | |
| Cor. O! look upon me, sir, | |
| And hold your hands in benediction o’er me. | 68 |
| No, sir, you must not kneel. | |
| Lear. Pray, do not mock me: | |
| I am a very foolish fond old man, | |
| Fourscore and upward, not an hour more or less; | 72 |
| 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 | 76 |
| 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 | 80 |
| To be my child Cordelia. | |
| Cor. And so I am, I am. | |
| Lear. Be your tears wet? Yes, faith. I pray, weep not: | |
| If you have poison for me, I will drink it. | 84 |
| 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. | |
| Cor. No cause, no cause. | 88 |
| Lear. Am I in France? | |
| Kent. In your own kingdom, sir. | |
| Lear. Do not abuse me. | |
| Doc. Be comforted, good madam; the great rage, | 92 |
| 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. | 96 |
| Cor. Will ’t please your highness walk? | |
| Lear. You must bear with me. | |
| Pray you now, forget and forgive: I am old and foolish. [Exeunt LEAR, CORDELIA, Doctor, and Attendants. | |
| Gent. Holds it true, sir, that the Duke of | 100 |
| Cornwall was so slain? | |
| Kent. Most certain, sir. | |
| Gent. Who is conductor of his people? | |
| Kent. As ’tis said, the bastard son of Gloucester. | 104 |
| Gent. They say Edgar, his banished son, is with the Earl of Kent in Germany. | |
| Kent. Report is changeable. ’Tis time to look about; the powers of the kingdom approach apace. | |
| Gent. The arbitrement is like to be bloody. Fare you well, sir. [Exit. | |
| Kent. My point and period will be throughly wrought, | 108 |
| Or well or ill, as this day’s battle’s fought. [Exit. | |
