ACT V
SCENE III The British camp near Dover.


 [Enter, in conquest, with drum and colours, EDMUND,
 KING LEAR and CORDELIA, prisoners; Captain,
 Soldiers, &c]

EDMUND Some officers take them away: good guard,
 Until their greater pleasures first be known
 That are to censure them.

CORDELIA We are not the first
 Who, with best meaning, have incurr'd the worst.
 For thee, oppressed king, am I cast down;
 Myself could else out-frown false fortune's frown.
 Shall we not see these daughters and these sisters?

KING LEAR No, no, no, no! Come, let's away to prison:
 We two alone will sing like birds i' the cage:
 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,
 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 wall'd prison, packs and sects of great ones,
 That ebb and flow by the moon.

EDMUND Take them away.

KING 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,
 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 starve
 first. Come.

 [Exeunt KING LEAR and CORDELIA, guarded]

EDMUND Come hither, captain; hark.
 Take thou this note;

 [Giving a paper]

  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
 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.

EDMUND About it; and write happy when thou 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.

 [Exit]

 [Flourish. Enter ALBANY, GONERIL, REGAN, another
 Captain, and Soldiers]

ALBANY Sir, you have shown to-day your valiant strain,
 And fortune led you well: you have the captives
 That were the opposites of this day's strife:
 We do require them of you, so to use them
 As we shall find their merits and our safety
 May equally determine.

EDMUND Sir, I thought it fit
 To send the old and miserable king
 To some retention and appointed guard;
 Whose age has charms in it, whose title more,
 To pluck the common bosom on his side,
 An turn our impress'd lances in our eyes
 Which do command them. With him I sent the queen;
 My reason all the same; and they are ready
 To-morrow, or at further space, to 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:
 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.

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,
 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,
 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 look'd but a-squint.

REGAN Lady, I am not well; else I should answer
 From a full-flowing stomach. General,
 Take thou my soldiers, prisoners, patrimony;
 Dispose of them, of me; the walls are thine:
 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 good will.

EDMUND Nor in thine, lord.

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

 [Pointing to Goneril]

 For your claim, fair sister,
 I bar it in the interest of my wife:
 'Tis she is sub-contracted to this lord,
 And I, her husband, contradict your bans.
 If you will marry, make your loves to me,
 My lady is bespoke.

GONERIL An interlude!

ALBANY Thou art arm'd, Gloucester: let the trumpet sound:
 If none appear to prove upon thy head
 Thy heinous, manifest, and many treasons,
 There is my pledge;

 [Throwing down a glove]

 I'll prove it on thy heart,
 Ere I taste bread, thou art in nothing less
 Than I have here proclaim'd thee.

REGAN Sick, O, sick!

GONERIL [Aside]  If not, I'll ne'er trust medicine.

EDMUND There's my exchange:

 [Throwing down a glove]

  what in the world he is
 That names me traitor, villain-like he lies:
 Call by thy trumpet: he that dares approach,
 On him, on you, who not? I will maintain
 My truth and honour firmly.

ALBANY A herald, ho!

EDMUND                   A herald, ho, a herald!

ALBANY Trust to thy single virtue; for thy soldiers,
 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.

 [Exit Regan, led]

 [Enter a Herald]

 Come hither, herald,--Let the trumpet sound,
 And read out this.

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 appear by the third sound of the
 trumpet: he is bold in his defence.'

EDMUND Sound!

 [First trumpet]

Herald Again!

 [Second trumpet]

Herald Again!

 [Third trumpet]

 [Trumpet answers within]

 [Enter EDGAR, at the third sound, armed, with a
 trumpet before him]

ALBANY Ask him his purposes, why he appears
 Upon this call o' the trumpet.

Herald What are you?
 Your name, your quality? and why you answer
 This present summons?

EDGAR Know, my name is lost;
 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 Gloucester?

EDMUND Himself: what say'st thou to him?

EDGAR Draw thy sword,
 That, if my speech offend a noble heart,
 Thy arm may do thee justice: here is mine.
 Behold, it is the privilege of mine honours,
 My oath, and my profession: I protest,
 Maugre thy strength, youth, place, and eminence,
 Despite thy victor sword and fire-new fortune,
 Thy valour and thy heart, thou art a traitor;
 False to thy gods, thy brother, and thy father;
 Conspirant 'gainst this high-illustrious prince;
 And, from the extremest upward of thy head
 To the descent and dust below thy foot,
 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;
 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;
 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 for ever. Trumpets, speak!

 [Alarums. They fight. EDMUND falls]

ALBANY Save him, save him!

GONERIL This is practise, Gloucester:
 By the law of arms thou wast not bound to answer
 An unknown opposite; thou art not vanquish'd,
 But cozen'd and beguiled.

ALBANY Shut your mouth, dame,
 Or with this paper shall I stop it: Hold, sir:
 Thou worse than any name, read thine own evil:
 No tearing, lady: I perceive you know it.

 [Gives the letter to EDMUND]

GONERIL Say, if I do, the laws are mine, not thine:
 Who can arraign me for't.

ALBANY Most monstrous! oh!
 Know'st thou this paper?

GONERIL Ask me not what I know.

 [Exit]

ALBANY Go after her: she's desperate; govern her.

EDMUND What you have charged me with, that have I done;
 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.
 I am no less in blood than thou art, Edmund;
 If more, the more thou hast wrong'd me.
 My name is Edgar, and thy father's son.
 The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices
 Make instruments to plague us:
 The dark and vicious place where thee he got
 Cost him his eyes.

EDMUND                   Thou hast spoken right, 'tis true;
 The wheel is come full circle: I am here.

ALBANY Methought thy very gait did prophesy
 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?
 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 follow'd me so near,--O, our lives' sweetness!
 That we the pain of death would hourly die
 Rather than die at once!--taught me to shift
 Into a madman's rags; to assume a semblance
 That very dogs disdain'd: and in this habit
 Met I my father with his bleeding rings,
 Their precious stones new lost: became his guide,
 Led him, begg'd for him, saved him from despair;
 Never,--O fault!--reveal'd myself unto him,
 Until some half-hour past, when I was arm'd:
 Not sure, though hoping, of this good success,
 I ask'd his blessing, and from first to last
 Told him my pilgrimage: but his flaw'd heart,
 Alack, too weak the conflict to support!
 'Twixt two extremes of passion, joy and grief,
 Burst smilingly.

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,
 Hearing of this.

EDGAR                   This would have seem'd a period
 To such as love not sorrow; but another,
 To amplify too much, would make much more,
 And top extremity.
 Whilst I was big in clamour came there in a man,
 Who, having seen me in my worst estate,
 Shunn'd my abhorr'd society; but then, finding
 Who 'twas that so endured, with his strong arms
 He fastened on my neck, and bellow'd out
 As he'ld 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,
 And there I left him tranced.

ALBANY But who was this?

EDGAR Kent, sir, the banish'd Kent; who in disguise
 Follow'd his enemy king, and did him service
 Improper for a slave.

 [Enter a Gentleman, with a bloody knife]

Gentleman Help, help, O, help!

EDGAR What kind of help?

ALBANY Speak, man.

EDGAR What means that bloody knife?

Gentleman 'Tis hot, it smokes;
 It came even from the heart of--O, she's dead!

ALBANY Who dead? speak, man.

Gentleman Your lady, sir, your lady: and her sister
 By her is poisoned; she hath confess'd it.

EDMUND I was contracted to them both: all three
 Now marry in an instant.

EDGAR Here comes Kent.

ALBANY Produce their bodies, be they alive or dead:
 This judgment of the heavens, that makes us tremble,
 Touches us not with pity.

 [Exit Gentleman]

 [Enter KENT]

      O, is this he?
 The time will not allow the compliment
 Which very manners urges.

KENT I am come
 To bid my king and master aye good night:
 Is he not here?

ALBANY                   Great thing of us forgot!
 Speak, Edmund, where's the king? and where's Cordelia?
 See'st thou this object, Kent?

 [The bodies of GONERIL and REGAN are brought in]

KENT Alack, why thus?

EDMUND                   Yet Edmund was beloved:
 The one the other poison'd for my sake,
 And after slew herself.

ALBANY Even so. Cover their faces.

EDMUND I pant for life: some good I mean to do,
 Despite of mine own nature. Quickly send,
 Be brief in it, to the castle; for my writ
 Is on the life of Lear and on Cordelia:
 Nay, send in time.

ALBANY                   Run, run, O, run!

EDGAR To who, my lord? Who hath the office? send
 Thy token of reprieve.

EDMUND Well thought on: take my sword,
 Give it the captain.

ALBANY Haste thee, for thy life.

 [Exit EDGAR]

EDMUND He hath commission from thy wife and me
 To hang Cordelia in the prison, and
 To lay the blame upon her own despair,
 That she fordid herself.

ALBANY The gods defend her! Bear him hence awhile.

 [EDMUND is borne off]

 [Re-enter KING LEAR, with CORDELIA dead in his arms;
 EDGAR, Captain, and others following]

KING LEAR Howl, howl, howl, howl! O, you are men of stones:
 Had I your tongues and eyes, I'ld use them so
 That heaven's vault should crack. She's gone for ever!
 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.

KENT Is this the promised end

EDGAR Or image of that horror?

ALBANY Fall, and cease!

KING LEAR This feather stirs; she lives! if it be so,
 It is a chance which does redeem all sorrows
 That ever I have felt.

KENT [Kneeling]  O my good master!

KING LEAR Prithee, away.

EDGAR 'Tis noble Kent, your friend.

KING LEAR A plague upon you, murderers, traitors all!
 I might have saved her; now she's gone for ever!
 Cordelia, Cordelia! stay a little. Ha!
 What is't thou say'st? Her voice was ever soft,
 Gentle, and low, an excellent thing in woman.
 I kill'd the slave that was a-hanging thee.

Captain 'Tis true, my lords, he did.

KING LEAR Did I not, fellow?
 I have seen the day, with my good biting falchion
 I would have made them skip: I am old now,
 And these same crosses spoil me. Who are you?
 Mine eyes are not o' the best: I'll tell you straight.

KENT If fortune brag of two she loved and hated,
 One of them we behold.

KING LEAR This is a dull sight. Are you not Kent?

KENT The same,
 Your servant Kent: Where is your servant Caius?

KING 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,--

KING LEAR I'll see that straight.

KENT That, from your first of difference and decay,
 Have follow'd your sad steps.

KING LEAR You are welcome hither.

KENT Nor no man else: all's cheerless, dark, and deadly.
 Your eldest daughters have fordone them selves,
 And desperately are dead.

KING LEAR Ay, so I think.

ALBANY He knows not what he says: and vain it is
 That we present us to him.

EDGAR Very bootless.

 [Enter a Captain]

Captain Edmund is dead, my lord.

ALBANY That's but a trifle here.
 You lords and noble friends, know our intent.
 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:

 [To EDGAR and KENT]

       you, to your rights:
 With boot, and such addition as your honours
 Have more than merited. All friends shall taste
 The wages of their virtue, and all foes
 The cup of their deservings. O, see, see!

KING LEAR And my poor fool is hang'd! No, no, no life!
 Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life,
 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!

 [Dies]

EDGAR He faints! 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 much
 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 usurp'd his life.

ALBANY Bear them from hence. Our present business
 Is general woe.

 [To KENT and EDGAR]

 Friends of my soul, you twain
 Rule in this realm, and the gored state sustain.

KENT I have a journey, sir, shortly to go;
 My master calls me, I must not say no.

ALBANY 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.

 [Exeunt, with a dead march]