King Lear. Edited by D. Nichol Smith

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KING LEAR

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KING LEAR

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CONTENTS

Introduction — Page

1. History of the Play vii

2. The Date of the Play xi

3. The Sources of the Incidents ----- xiii

4. Critical Appreciation ------ xix

King Lear - . - 29

Notes - - ----- 137

Appendix A— The Sources ok the Plot - - 184

Appendix B— Note on the Metre ok King Lear - 193

Glossary 201

Index ok Words 209

General Index 212

4

INTRODUCTION

I. HISTORY OF THE PLAY

King Lear was first printed, in quarto form, in 1608.
Two editions of it appeared in that year. Their relation-
ship and order of publication were for long ^^^ q^^^^^
doubtful, but it is now certain that the earlier
is that which bears the following title-page: —

M. William Shak-speare: i His | True Chronicle His-
torie of the life and ! death of King Lear and his three |
Daughters. | With the vn fortunate life of Edgar, sonne \
and heire to the Earle of Gloster, and his | sullen and
assumed humor of Tom of Bedlam: | As it was played
before the Kintrs Maiestic at Whitehall vpon \ S. Stephans
night in Christmas Holli^ayes. \ By his Maiesties seruants
playing vsually at the Gloabe j on the Bancke-side. |
London, | Printed for Nathaniel Butter, and are to be
sold at his shop in Pauls \ Church-yard at the signe of
the Pide Bull neere \ S'- Austin^ Gixte. ibo8.

Of this edition six copies are known to be extant. But
these copies are not uniform. All, besides being carelessly
printed, are composed indiscriminately of corrected and
uncorrected sheets, with the result that only two of the
six copies are identical, and that not one of them contains
a fully revised text. The second quarto edition has the
same title, but it omits all mention of the place of sale,
having merely "Printed for Nathaniel Butter. | 1608", a
circumstance which gives the other the distinctive title of
the "Pide Bull edition". Careful investigation has de-
finitely established that the second Quarto was based on

vili KING LEAR

the first. It reproduces and aggravates many of the faults
of the other, and is of decidedly inferior value. ^

The next text of King Lear is that of the Folio of 1623.
It is the most valuable, for while the Quartos were printed
in all probability surreptitiously, it appears to have been
taken from an acting copy preserved at the
theatre. The independent origin of the two
texts gives rise to marked divergences. Apart from
verbal variations, there is considerable difference in the
length of the two versions. The Quartos contain about
three hundred lines which are not given in the Folio, and
on the other hand about a hundred and ten lines in the
Folio are omitted in the Quartos.- These omissions can-
not be definitely explained ; but it is probable that neither
text was revised by Shakespeare himself, and that the
divergences are due to the actors and printers. The
Quartos may follow a slightly condensed copy used in the
performance at Court in 1606, while the Folio gives the
more abridged acting copy of the theatre. The biblio-
graphical difficulties are further complicated by the fact
that, though the two editions are based on different texts,
the Folio reproduces some of the errors of the Quartos.
The explanation of this would seem to be that the printer
of the Folio did not work dlrectl}' on the acting copy, but
employed an edition of the first Quarto which had been
corrected roughly in accordance with the manuscript.
The modern text is considerably longer than that of the

1 The relationship of the Quartos was first estabhshed by the Cambridge
editors, thoiigli the editor of King Lear . . . collated luiih the old and modern
editions, piibhshed in 1770, had already conchided that the Pide Hull edition w.ns
the first. See also Mr. P. A. Daniel's introduction to the facsimile reprints of
the two Quartos (1885). Another Quarto, a careless reprint of the second, was
"printed by Jane Bell" in 1655.

2 The chief passages omitted in the Quartos arc: — i. 1. 33-38; i. 2. 101-106,
150-T55; i. 4. 314-325; ii. 4. 45-52, 136-141; iii. i. 22-29; "'• 2. 74-88; iii. 6.
12-14; iv. I. 6-9; iv. 6. 146-151. The chief passages omitted in the Folios are: —
i. 2. 130-137; i. 3. 16-20; i. 4. 132-147; ii. 2. 135-139; iii- 1. 7-15, .30-42; »•• 6.
17-54. 95-99, 100-113; iii. 7. 98-106; iv. 2. 31-50, 53-59, 62-69; >v. 3. (the whole
scene); iv. 7. 85-97; v. 3. 204-221. It is .sometimes stated erroneously that only
about fifty lines are omitted in the Quartos, and about two hundred and twenty
in the Folios.

INTRODUCTION ix

original editions by the inclusion of all the passages
which occur only in one or other of them. On the as-
sumption that Shakespeare took no further care of the
play once he had given it to the actors, the Kinir Lear
which we now have is a nearer approach to what it was
when it left his hands.

King Lear is one of the Shakespearian plays which were
mangled at the Restoration. It appears to have been
acted "as Shakespeare wrote it" between 1662 and 1665,
and again in 1671 or 1672,^ but it was more popu-
lar in the adapted version of Nahum Tate, which Hufory.
was produced and published in 1681. ^ Tate con-
sidered the play "a heap of jewels, unstrung and un-
polished ", and he set himself to give it what Restoration
taste demanded. " 'Twas my good fortune", he says,
" to light on one expedient to rectify what was wanting in
the regularity and probability of the tale, which was to
run through the whole a Love betwixt Edgar and Cor-
delia, that never changed word with each other in the
original. This renders Cordelia's indifference and her
father's passion in the first scene probable. It likewise
gives countenance to Edgar's disguise, making that a
generous design that was before a poor shift to save his
life. The distress of the story is evidently heightened by
it; and it particularly gave occasion of a new scene or
two, of more success (perhaps) than nierit. This mctliod
necessarily threw me on making the tale conclude in a
success to the innocent distrest Persons. . . . Yet 1 was
wracked with no small fears for so bold a change, till
I found it well received by my audience." The love-
making and betrothal of Edgar and Cordelia, the restora-
tion of Lear to his kingdom, the enforced moral that
"truth and virtue shall at last succeed", the interpolated
scenes, and the entire omission of the Fool, make this
version a perfect botch of tlie original. But it held the

1 See Downes, Roscius Anglicanus fed. Davies, 1789), pp. 36 and 43.
• The History of King L(ar. Acted nt the Duke's Theatre. Reviv'd with
Alterations. By N. Tate. Lotuion, 16S1. Reprinted 1771.

X KING LEAR

stage unchallenged till the time of Garrick, and its tin-
kerings were not totally discarded till well on in the nine-
teenth century. Garrick's version, which was produced
in 1756, was generally accepted for about fifty years.'
With all his enthusiasm for Shakespeare, Garrick showed
little regard for the plays as Shakespeare left them, and
of none did he represent a more garbled version than of
Kin^ Lear. It may not unfitly be described as an
adaptation of Tate's. He restored certain passages and
omitted many of Tate's additions, but he retained the
love scenes and the happy ending, and after serious con-
sideration decided that he could not include the Fool.
The version which Colman produced in 1768 was a de-
cided improvement. He endeavoured in it, he says, "to
purge the tragedy of Lear of the alloy of Tate, which has
so long been suffered to debase it". He had the taste to
recognize that the love scenes between Edgar and Cordelia
were entirely out of place, and that, far from heightening
the distress of the story, as Tate had asserted, they dif-
fused a languor over all the scenes from which Lear is
absent. But he did not condemn Tate entirely. "To
reconcile", he says, "the catastrophe of Tate to the
original story was the first grand object which I pro-
posed to myself in this alteration." He thus expelled-
Tate from the first four acts, but retained him in the
fifth; but, like Tate and Garrick, he would have none
of the Fool, being "convinced that such a character in
a tragedy would not be endured on the modern stage ".
Colman's version, however, was not popular because of
the absence of the love scenes, and Garrick's or Tate's
kept possession of the stage.^ Throughout the eighteenth
century, the happy ending, though invariably adopted by
the actors, was a moot point of the critics. Addison
condemned it and the "ridiculous doctrine" of poetical

I The version of 1756 was not printed, but it is presumably the same as that
published by Hell in 1772 or 1773.

2 See Genest, English Stage, iv. 475; v. 191-203; viii. 131. Another version
was produced by Kemblc in 1809, but it was worse than Garrick's, for Kemble
restored passages from Tate which Garrick had omitted.

INTRODUCTION xi

justice urged in its defence. " Kinj^ Lear is an ad-
mirable tragedy", he says, "as Shakespeare wrote it;
but as it is reformed according to the chimerical notion
of poetical justice, in my humble opinion it has lost half
its beauty."' Johnson was of the opposite opinion, and
represents the prevailing taste of the time when he states
with evident satisfaction that "Cordelia, from the time
of Tate, has always retired with victory and felicity".
The new school of Shakespearian critics at the beginning
of the nineteenth century, and particularly Lamb and
Ha;?litt, induced Kean to abandon the inartistic conclusion
which had been in vogue for over a hundred and forty
years. In 1820 he had followed Tate's version, but he
had declared that "the London audience have no notion
what I can do until they see me over the dead body of
Cordelia", and in 1823, in obedience to his dramatic
instincts and "the suggestion of men of literary emi-
nence from the time of Addison ", he gave the last act
as originally written by Shakespeare. But even Kean
did not restore the true version in the rest of the play, for
Tate's love scenes were retained and the Fool was still
excluded. Not till Macready's performance of the play
in 1838 was the Fool again permitted to appear. But
even in making this restoration Macready had consider-
able misgivings. " My opinion of the introduction of the
—^^ Fool "■ he wrote in his diary, "is thnt, like many such
'^ terrible contrasts in poetry and painting, in acting-repre-
sentation it will fail in effect; it will either wear)', or annoy,
or distract the spectator. I have no hope of it, and think
that at the last we shall be obliged to dispense with it."
Though he doubted the propriety of this part, he has the
credit of restoring to the stage the true King Lear.

2. THE DATE OF THE PL.AY

The date of King Lear is not known definitely; but it
is certain that the play was written between 1603 and 1606.

1 spectator. No. 40.

xii KING LEAR

The later limit is fixed by external evidence. The first
Quarto was entered in the Stationers'
LateHim^'feor ' Registers under the date 26th November,
1607, as "A Booke called Master William
Shakespeare his ' hlstorj^e of KInge Lear ' as yt was
played before the kinges maiestie at Whitehall vppon
Sainct Stephens night at Christmas Last". The per-
formance at Court must therefore have taken place on
St. Stephen's night (26th December), 1606. This is the
only piece of external evidence that bears on the date of
the play. But there is internal evidence to show that
King Lear was not written before 1603. As the notes
point out, there are several passages which prove Shake-
speare's knowledge of Harsnet's Declaration of Egre-
gious Popishe Impostures. The names of

EaVrr\h2'"&3. ^^^ ^^^'^^ mentioned by Edgar when feign-
ing madness are undoubtedly borrowed
from this book.^ while certain other remarks made by him
in his role of Tom of Bedlam point to a like indebtedness.^
Harsnet's book was entered in the Stationers' Registers on
i6th March, 1603, and appeared later in the same year.

Unfortunately this is the only evidence that is at all
definite. It is highly probable that the play was written
in 1606, though the arguments urged in support of a date
nearer the end than the beginning of the period from 1603
to Christmas, 1606, are not conclusive. Malone notes
that in lii. 4. 172 Edgar says " I smell the blood of a
British man ", and he argues therefrom
Conjectures from ^j j^ j^j j ,^^^j,j ^^^.^ y^^^^ written after
internal evidence. tr- c /-^

James's proclamation as Kmg of Ureat
Britain on 24th October, 1604. But it has been pointed
out that as early as 1603, beforcTeven James's arrival in
London, the poet Daniel addressed to him a Panegyrike
Congratulatory, which has the lines: —

•'Shake hands with union, O thou mightie state,
Now thou art all Great Britain, and no more,
No Scot, no English now, nor no debate".

1 See iii. 4. 106; iii. 6. 6, 29; and iv. i. 60. « See ii. 4. 53, 54; iii. 4- 51; and iv. i. 61.

IXTRODL'CTION xiii

His arg-ument has therefore little value. More weight
attaches to the plea put forward by Mr. Aldis Wright, for,
though it does not force acceptance, it strengthens the
supposition of a late date. In the second scene of the
first act there are references to "these late eclipses in the
sun and moon". In October, 1605, there was a great
eclipse of the sun following on an eclipse of the moon
in the previous month, and Mr. Wright argues that "it
can scarcely be doubted that Shakespeare had in his mind
the great eclipse, and that Lear was written while the
recollection of it was still fresh, and while the ephemeral
literature of the day abounded with pamphlets foreboding
the consequences that were to follow".' Similarly he
hazards the further plausible suggestion that the refer-
ence in the same scene to " machinations, hollowness,
treacher)', and all ruinous disorders " may have been
prompted by the Gunpowder Plot of 5th November, 1605.
All this, however, is mere supposition. There were
eclipses of the sun and moon in 1598 and again in 1601,^
and it is not impossible that Shakespeare's words were
suggested by a recollection of them. None the less, the
trend of the arguments, though inconclusive

... , 1 ^ ^ Probably 1606.

in themselves, is to support the date 1606;
and as King^ Lear was acted before J.'#nes at Christmas,
1606, and as the plays represented at Court were usually
new plays, that date may be accepted.-'

3. THE SOURCES OF THE INCIDENTS

The stor}- of King Lear was familiar in various forms to
the Elizabethans. From the twelfth to the si.xteenth cen-
tury it had been told again and again in chronicles and

1 Preface to the Clarrndon Press edition, p. xvi.

*Se« King Lear, ed. W. J. Craig (1901 ', p. xxiii.

' The metrical evidence affords little or no assistance. For a statement of the
metrical characteristics, see Fleay's Shakespeare Manual, p. 136, and Prof.
Ingram's paper on ' Light and Weak Endings' in the Transactions 0/ the New
Skakspere Society, 1874, pt. iL

xiv KING LEAR

romances, both French and English. It is first found in
„, , the Historia Britonum of Geoffrey of Mon-

1 he early , . /

stories of mouth, written about 1135; but it is probably

ing .ear. ^j- Qgjj-jj, origin, for this book professes to be
founded on a Welsh chronicle. It appears in French in
Wace's Brut (c. 1155), which was derived from Geoffrey's
Latin history, and which in turn was the source of Laya-
mon's Brut (1205), where the story is first given in English.
Thereafter it is told in the metrical chronicles of Robert
of Gloucester (c. 1300), Robert Manning (c. 1338), and
John Harding (c. 1450), and in the more detailed prose
chronicles of Robert Fabyan (1516), John Rastell {The
Pastime of the People, 1530), Richard Grafton (1568), and
Raphael Holinshed (1577), while a similar story Is given
in Camden's Remains (1605). Two versions of it occur in
translations of the Gesta Romanorurn, the great mediaeval
storehouse of legendary tales. And it found a poetical
setting in Elizabethan literature in John HIggins's con-
tribution to the Mirror for Maf^nstrates (1574), in Warner's
Albion's England (1586, ch. 14), and in Spenser's Faerie
Oueene (1590). Including the early play entitled the True
Chronicle History of Kitig Leir, which appeared in 1605,'
there are extant at least eight Elizabethan versions of
earlier date than the drama by which it has been im-
mortalized.

Of the contemporary versions Shakespeare may have
known those in Holinshed's Chronicle, the Mirror for
Magistrates, and the Faerie Queene,'^ as well as the early
play.

' There is entered in the Registers of the Stationers' Company, under the date
i4lh May, 1594, The iitoste famous Chronicle historye 0/ Lcire kitigc 0/ Ettgtand
and his Three Daughters. No copy of this is known, but it is probably the
same as The Tragecall historie of kinge Leir and his Three Daughters,
which was entered on 8th May, 1605, and appeared in the same year with the
following title, The True Chronicle History of King Leir and his three
Daughters, Gonorill, Ragan, and Cordelia. As it hath bene diners ar.d
sundry times lately acted. This is reprinted in Nichols's Six Old Plays on which
Stiakesfieare founded, &'c. (1779), and in W. C. Hazlitt's Shakespeare's Library
(1875", pt. ii., vol. ii. An abstract is given in Furress's ' Varionim Shakespeare'.

2 See the Appendix.

INTRODUCTION xv

Holinshed's Chronicle was the great source of Shake-
speare's histories. Certain passages in some of them, e.g.
Henry I' and Henry VI H, are little more than versified
renderintjs of Holinshed's prose. But the fact „ ,. , ,
that it provided so much material for Shake-
speare's other plays has tended to overstatement of its
influence on King Lear. In Holinshed's account Leir
loved Cordeilla far above her two elder sisters, and in-
tended her to succeed to his kingdom; but, being displeased
with her answer at the love-test, he determined that his
land should be divided after his death between Gonorilla
and Regan (who so far were unmarried), and that a half
thereof should be immediately assigned them, while to
Cordeilla he reser\ed nothing. But in time the two dukes
whom the two eldest daughters had married rose against
Leir and deprived him of the government, assigning him
a portion on which to live. The daughters, however,
seemed to think that whatever the father had was too
much, and gradually curtailed his retinue. Leir was
constraint to flee the country and seek comfort of Cor-
deilla, who had married a prince of Gallia, and there
he was honoured as if he had been king of the whole
country himself. Cordeilla and her Husband then raise
a mighty army, cross over to Britain with Leir, and
defeat the forces of Gonorilla and Regan. Leir is re-
stored and rules for two years, and is succeeded by
Cordeilla. It will be seen that Holinshed's stor)-, meagre
as it is, differs in many points from Shakespeare's. It
was certainly not used as the basis of King Lear. Indeed
there is absolutely nothing to prove that Shakespeare
consulted it, though the probability is, considering his
use of other parts of the Chronicle, that he had read it too.

The story in the Mirror for Magistrates has more points
of similarity. According to it, Leire intended " to guerdon
most where favour most he found" (cf. i. i.
45, 46) ; and Cordell in her reply refers to the J^ MaJit^raUs.
chance of bearing another more good-will,
meaning a future husband (cf, i. i. 96, 97). Leire does

xvi KING LEAR

not resigri the government at once, but is deprived of his
crown and right by tlie husbands of Gonerell and Ragan,
who promised liim a guard of sixty knights. This number
is reduced by half by Gonerell, whereupon Leire goes to
Cornwall to stay with Ragan, who after a time took away
all his retinue but ten, then allowed him but five, and
finally but one. Another indignity he had to suffer was
that ' ' the meaner upstart courtiers thought themselves
his mates". And his daughters called him a "doting
fool ". As in Holinshed, Leire flees to France, returns
with Cordell and an army which proves victorious, and
is restored to his kingdom. But generally this account
bears a much closer resemblance than Holinshed's to the
story of King- Lear. Some of the details of the Mirror for
Magistrates are paralleled in Shakespeare's play.^ This,
however, is a circumstance on which too great stress is
apt to be laid, for similarity or even identity of idea does
not prove indebtedness. The most striking point is
Cordell's allusion in the love-test to her future husband.
But it happens that in Camden's Retnains a similar story
of the love-test is told of Ina, king of the West Saxons,
and there the youngest daughter replies to her father
"flatly, without flattery, that albeit she did love, honour,
and reverence him, and so would whilst she lived, as much
as nature and daughterly duty at the uttermost could ex-
pect, yet she did think that one day it would come to pass
that she should affect another more fervently, meaning her
husband, when she were married". Malone, who drew
attention to this passage, thinks that Shakespeare had it
in his thoughts rather than the lines in the Mirror for
Magistrates, as Camden's book had been published recently,
and as a portion near at hand " furnished him with a hint
in Coriolanus". No definite opinion can be advanced; but
the efiect is to render Shakespeare's debt to the Mirror
for Magistrates only more doubtful.

1 Perhaps the parallelisms are due to the intermediary of the early play, which
resembles in several points the story in the Mirror for Magistrates. There
would be less difficulty in showing the early dramatist's acquaintance with it
than there is in showing Shakespeare's.

(H906)

IXTRODUCTION xvii

In one striking- point Shakespeare is indebted to Spenser.
In Holinshed's Chronicle tlie heroine's name is 'Cordeilla',
in the Mirror for Magistrates it is ' Cordell ', and in the
early play it is 'Cordelia': in King Lear the
name has the beautiful form first adopted in the ■^p*"^^''-
Faerie Oiteene.^ The two great Elizabethans are alike
also in their division of Lear's kingdom, for neither makes
Lear reserve to himself any share in the g^overnment, while
in Holinshed and the Mirror for Magistrates the two elder
daughters are not given at once their full share, and wrest
the supreme power by force of arms. Shakespeare is
sometimes said to be indebted to the simile- in Spenser's
account ; but this is a point which cannot be pressed.

We are on surer ground in dealing with the early play,
the anonymous True Chronicle History of King Leir.
The main incidents of this drama, and in particular some
of its deviations from the usual story, have their
counterpart in A7w,^ Zt'rtr. In one of his snatches ^^ .
of song, Shakespeare's fool speaks of "That
lord that counsell'd thee to give away thy land4' (i. 4. 132,
133). There is nothing in the rest of the play to explain
the allusion; but we find that in the old play the love-test
is proposed by a courtier, Skalliger by name, and that Lear
at once resigns his whole kingdom to Gonorill and Ragan.
.Another courtier, Perillus, who is entirely the early drama-
tist's own invention, is the prototype of Kent. He pleads
for Cordelia, but in vain, and afterwards, with Kent's
fidelity, attends in disguise on the old king. A mes-
senger, and the miscarriage of letters, play an important
part in the development of the plot. .Again, in the pathetic
scene in which Leir comes to recognize Cordelia, he
kneels to her (cf. iv. 7. 59). These are some of the most
striking points of similarity in the development of the two
plays. But indebtedness may be traced even in minor

• Spenser once has the form ' Cordeill ', apparently shortened from Holinshed's
'Cordeilla'. It would appear that the exigencies of metre suggested 'Cordelia'.
Spenser was undoubtedly indebted to Holinshed for the story.

* See i. 4. 207.

(X906) B

xviii KING LEAR

matters. We seem to catch an echo now and then of
some of the statements and phrases of the old play.
Thus —

" I am as kind as is the pellican,
That kils it selfe to save her young ones hves ".

reminds us of Lear's reference to his "pelican daughters"
(iii. 4. 71). The allusion to Gonorill's "young bones" —

" poore soule, she breeds yongf bones,
And that is it makes her so tutchy sure " —

suggests ii. 4. 159, while the sentiment is the same as
that expressed in ii. 4. 102-108. It is probable, too, that
Perillus's description of his master as " the mirror of
mild patience " had some bearing on the finer phrase
which Shaicespeare puts in the mouth of Lear himself,
"the pattern of all patience" (iii. 2. 33). There can be
no doubt that Shakespeare knew this early play. In
itself it is of little account ; and yet there are not want-
ing qualities which show that the story only awaited the
master hand to touch it to finer issues.

It is also certain that Sidney's Arcadia^ is the source of
the Gloucester story^ — the underplot which is interwoven
with marvellous skill and is so striking a foil to the main

theme. The prototypes of Gloucester and Edgar
Sidney's ^ ^■^ ,< P;ipli|agonian unkind king and his

kind son", whose "pitiful state" is recounted
in the second book of Sidney's pastoral romance. Though
the story is reproduced in all its essentials, it has fur-
nislicd Shakespeare with nothing but the bare facts of
his underplot. -

But when all .Shakespeare's borrowings are put together
— even though account be taken of those matters in which

' See the Appendix.

2 Some of the older critics, e.g. Johnson and Hazlitt, thought that the play
was " founded upon an old ballad ", Kiug Leire and his Three Daughters. But
the ballad, which is given in Percy's Retigues of Aiicient Poetry, is of later date
than the play.

INTRODUCTION xix

his debt is verj- doubtful — how small a part do they form
of Kinpr Lear\ The inlermineliner of the ^. „

. . ... Sm.illness

Gloucester episode has entailed new incidents of shake-
and changed the working out of the catas- ^P"*'*''*^ '* ^ '•
trophe. The presence of Edmund enhances the villainy
of Goneril and Regan, and their adulterous love leads
to their deaths. In the older versions their part was
ended with the victor}- of Lear. Shakespeare alone has
given a sad ending to the play. Thougii, as we have
seen, he incurred thereby the censure of eighteenth cen-
tury critics and actors, it is the only ending that is artisti-
cally possible. That Lear should be restored and reign
happily is fitting enough in the meagre stories of Holin-
shed or the early dramatist, but the tragic intensity, which
Shakespeare could give the more easily by the addition
of the Gloucester episode, makes any other ending than his
lame and inept. There is no borrowing in the feigned
madness of Edgar, nor in the real madness ■fif Lear — the
central circumstance, the ver}- essence of the play; and
the character of the Fool is Shakespeare's creation. In
these points, as in all that gives the play its value, the
only "source" is Shakespeare himself. In addition
there Is the whole setting, and in particular the storm
which symbolizes the "great commotion in the moral
world"; and there is the characterization, by which the
shadows and puppets of the early stories are turned into
flesh and blood.

4. CRITIC.VL .\PPRECI.\TION

The play of King Lear presents certain peculiarities in
point of structure. It diverges considerably from the
form of the Shakespearian dramas with which it is
generally associated, Hamlet, Othello, and
Macbeth, and it is even more irregular than
the first of these. It is unique in the importance of the
opening scene. There is no introductory- passage to
explain or throw light on the stor}- which is to be un-

XX KING LEAR

folded, or, as in Macbeth, to symbolize it. We are in-
troduced straightway to the action on which the whole
play depends. The first scene on this account has been
stigmatized by Goethe as irrational ; but the structure
of the play emphasizes the fact that the deeds which
call the play into being are in themselves of

The first scene. .... ,. , . t- . . i

little importance. King Lear recounts the
consequences following inevitably on a rash and foolish
act. Another arrangement of the opening scenes would
have tended to give more prominence than the theme of
the drama allowed to an act which is important only in
so far as it is the occasion of others.

The importance of the underplot is the most notable

point in the structure of King Lear. Its bearing on the

whole play seems almost to mark it out as a survival

of the discarded parallelisms of the earlier

The underplot. ,. t-. ■ > i .• .• i

comedies. But it has a purely artistic value,
for it is added not in order to complicate the story, but
to enforce its motive. It is in fact a triumphant vindica-
tion of the underplot, a characteristic of the romantic
drama on which the formal classical critics looked a-
skance. The Gloucester story has had its full share of
condemnation by those who are prejudiced by recognized
dramatic rules. Joseph Warton, for instance, singled
out, as one of the "considerable imperfections" with
which the play is chargeable, "the plot of Edmund
against his brother, which distracts the attention and
destroys the unity of the fable ".^ His other observa-
tions on King Lear contain passages of whole-hearted
and eloquent praise, but on this point he was so blinded
by the prevailing classicism of the eighteenth centurj' as
to fail to recognize that the underplot, far from distract-
ing the attention, really adds to the intensity. Such
objections have been answered once and for all in a
memorable passage by Schlegel. "The incorporation of
the two stories has been censured as destructive of the

1 Tlie Ad^ientiirer, No. 122, sth January, 1754, Warton's third and conchiding
paper of " Observations on King Lear".

INTRODUCTION xxi

unity of action. But whatever contributes to the intrig^ue
or the denouement must always possess unity. And with
what ing^enuity and skill are the two main parts of the
composition dovetailed into one another! The pity felt
by Gloucester for the fate of Lear becomes the means
which enables his son Edmund to effect his complete
destruction, and affords the outcast Edgar an oppor-
tunity of being- the saviour of his father. On the other
hand, Edmund is active in the cause of Regan and
Goneril, and the criminal passion which thev both en-
tertain for him induces them to execute justice on each
other and on themselves. The laws of the drama have
therefore been sufficiently complied with ; but that is the
least. It is the very combination which constitutes the
sublime beauty of the work. The two cases resemble
each other in the main : an infatuated father is blind
towards his well-disposed child, and the unnatural ciiil-
dren, whom he pref«rs, requite him by the ruin of all his
happiness. But all the circumstances are so different
that these stories, while they each make a correspondent
impression on the heart, form a complete contrast for
the imagination. Were Lear alone to suffer from his
daughters, the impression would be limited to the power-
ful compassion felt by us for his private misfortune. But
two such unheard-of examples taking place at the same
time have the appearance of a great commotion in the
moral world."' The stor\' of the victim of his own mis-
deeds is so skilfully interwoven with the story of the victim
of his indiscretions, and is brought into so suggestive
opposition, that the effect of each is more impressive.
The Gloucester stor)- in itself does not offer any striking
chance of successful dramatic treatment, and in respect
of the feigned madness of Edgar rather lends itself to
comedy, but it attains a tragic power by its association
with the stor>- of Lear. On the other hand, the main
theme is raised by this conjunction above a purely per-

* A. W. Schlegel, Lectures on Dramatic Art arid Literature ^English trans-
lation, 1879, p. 413].

xxii KING LEAR

sonal matter, and we are the more readily brought to
thuik of Lear, not as the man, but as the victim of filial
inj^ratitude.

Despite these apparentlj' discordant elements, King
Lear has complete unity of spirit. But in achieving this
unity the art of Shakespeare has nowhere triumphed

more completely than in the case of the Fool.

In less skilful hands his presence would have
been inimical to the pity and terror of the tragedy. We
have seen how actors, for a period of over a hundred and
fifty years, from the days of Tate to Macready, banished
him from the stage from a faulty recognition of the im-
port of his part. Even in restoring him Macready did not
do him justice, for he regarded him as a mere youth, and
accordingly entrusted the part to an actress. The Fool's
remarks are only those of a man of full and rich experience
of life. He is not a clown like Othello's servant, intro-
duced merely for the sake of variety. He bears a much
closer resemblance to the Fools of the later comedies, to
Touchstone in. As You Like It and Feste in Twelfth Night.
As Touchstone, "he uses his folly like a stalking-horse,
and under the presentation of that he shoots his ],wit".
At first there is a sharpness in his taunts, for he hopes
thereby, with the frankness that is the privilege of his
position, to awaken the king to a knowledge of what he
has done. Afterwards, when the worst has come to the
worst, his wit has the g-entler aim of relieving Lear's
anguish. He no longer "teaches" Lear, but "labours
to outjest his heart-struck injuries". He seems to give
expression to the thought lurking deep in Lear's mind,
as is shown by the readiness with which Lear catches at
everything he says, or to voice the counsels of discretion.
And he finally disappears from the play when Lear is mad^
The Fool is, in fact, Lear's familiar spirit. He is Lear's
only companion in the fateful step of going out into the
night and braving the storm. Even then, as if in astonish-
ment that his sorrows had not destroyed all his regard for
others, Lear says, "I have one part in my heart that's

INTRODUCTION xxiii

sorn- yet for thee". How then, may it be asked, can the
Fooi possibly be omitted from King Lear? Apart from
this consideration, the Fool has an important function in
the drama. The eighteenth century actors unconsciously
testified to this, for when they banished the Fool as "a
character not to be endured on the modern stage ", they,
with one exception — and success did not attend this effort —
made good the want by mawkish love scenes. These
they preferred to a role which was regarded only as bur'
lesque. But the artt'ul prattle of the Fool does more than
give variety and relax the strain on one's feelings. It
makes Lear's lot endurable to us, but at the same time
it gives us a keener sense of its sadness. The persistent
reminders of Lear's folly, the recurring presentment of
ideas in a new and stronger light, the caustic wit hidden
in a seemingly casual remark, all bring home more forci-
bly the pity of Lear's plight. In a word, the Fool in-
tensifies the pathos by relieving it.^

The character of Lear is distinct from those of most of
Shakespeare's heroes in that it is not revealed gradually.
He is described fully in the verj- first scene. He has had
a successful reign, but he is not a strong man. He
is headstrong and rash, and old age has brought
" unruly waywardness " and vanity. The play as a whole
deals with the effects produced upon this passionate
character by a foolish act for which he is alone responsi-
ble. The story is strictly that of a British king who began
to rule " in the year of the world 3105, at what time Joas
reigned in Juda". But Shakespeare has converted it into
a tale of universal interest. He makes it but a basis for
what Keats has called " the fierce dispute betwixt Hell

1 In this connection it is well to record the opinion of Shelley, expressed in his
Defence 0/ Poetry : " The modem practice of blending comedy with tragedy,
though liable to great abuse in point of practice, is undoubtedly an extension of
the dramatic circle: but the comedy should be, as in A'ing- Lear, universal,
ideal, sublime. It is perhaps the intervention of this principle which determines
the balance in favour of A'iiig Z.^(ir against CEdipus Tyraniius or the Agamem-
non. . . . King Lear, if it can sustain this comparison, may be judged to be the
most perfect specimen of the dramatic art existing in the world, in spite of the
narrow conditions to which the poet was subjected by the ignorance of the
philosophy of the drama which has prevailed in modem Europe."

xxiv KING LEAR

torment and impassioned clay".^ All the details of the
story are of little importance in themselves, and the art
of .Shakespeare makes us forget them in thinking of the
total effect to which they contribute. The real subject
of the play is not so much Lear as the outraged passion
of filial affection. " Nobody from reading Shakespeare ",
says Hazlitt, "would know (except from the Dramatis
Personce) that Lear was an English king. He is merely
a king and a father. The ground is common: but what
a well of tears has he dug out of it ! There are no data
in history to go upon; no advantage is taken of costume,
no acquaintance with geography or architecture or dialect
is necessary; but there is an old tradition, human nature
—an old temple, the human mind — and Shakespeare walks
into it and looks about him with a lordly eye, and seizes
on the sacred spoils as his own. The story is a thousand
or two years old, and yet the tragedy has no smack of
antiquarianism in it."^ It is this universal quality which
allows such anachronisms as that one character should
personate a madman of the seventeenth century and
speak a south-western dialect, or that another should
refer to the rules of chivalry. The very greatness of
Ki7ig Lear, the subordination and even abrogation of all
detail, abundant though it is, made Charles Lamb declare
the play essentially impossible to be represented on a
stage. "The greatness of Lear", he says, "is not in
corporal dimension, but in intellectual : the explosions of
his passion are terrible as a volcano : they are storms
turning up and disclosing to the bottom that sea, his
miiKl, with all its vast riches. It is his mind which is
laid bare. This case of flesh and blood seems too in-
significant to be thought on; even as he himself neglects
it. On the stage we see nothing but corporal infirmities
and weakness, the impotence of rage; while we read it,
we see not Lear, but we are Lear."^ His sufferings

' Sonnet written be/ore re-reading ' King Lear' .

■ H.izlitt, ' Scott, Racine, and Shakespeare' in the Plain-Speaker.

8 Lamb, On the Tragedies o/ Shakespeare.

INTRODUCTION xxv

bring out good qualities which have been stunted in for-
tune. Wlien we first know him he is so self-centred as
to be absolutely regardless of oihers. But he conies to
suspect his own "jealous curiosity" (i. 4. 67), tries to
find an excuse for his enemies (ii. 4. 101-108), and is
finally moved to contrition for his former indifference to
the lot of even his meanest subjects (iii. 4. 28-30). He
knows he must be patient. "You heavens, give me that
patience, patience I need " (ii. 4. 268). He asserts that he
will be the "pattern of all patience" (iii. 2. 33). But the
blow has come too late. His fond old heart cannot en-
dure the outrage of " the oilices of nature, bond of
childhood, effects of courtesy, dues of gratitude ". He is
too old to learn resignation. His remarks only increase
in intensity. When he meets Regan after his rebuff by
GonerJl, he can greet her only by saying that if she is
not glad to see him, her mother must have been an
adultress (ii. 4. 126-128). At last he becomes almost in-
articulate with passion (ii. 4. 275-283). The strain is
too great, and the bonds of reason snap. Of this the
premonitions have been so skilfully given that his mad-
ness seems inevitable.^ Yet he could never more truly
say that he was "every inch a king" than when he
threw aside the lendings of royalty and stood against
the deep dread-bolted thunder, and defied the villainy of
his unnatural daughters. If he baffles our sympathy or
regard in the height of his fortune, he wins our rever-
ence now; and the imagination fondly lingers over his
recognition of Cordelia and his contentment with prison
if only she is with him, and finds his early folly nobly
expiated in his conduct at her death and his inability to
live without her.-

' Several accounts of the course of Lear's madness have been given by medical
men. Sec, for example, Bucknill's Mad Folk of Shakespeare, pp. 160-235.

* rhe (Kdipus Colonnis of Sophocles offers a remarkable comparison with
King Lear. Qidipus, too, is a man more sinned against th.in sinning (see note,
iii. 2. 55), l)ut he has learned patience and self-control and has a strength of
character wanting in the aged Lear. His curse on Polynices is even more
terrible than Lear's on Goneril, because it is deliberate, and does not spring from
a passionate desire of revenge. And .\ntigonc is his Cordelia.

xxvi KING LEAR

Yet this ending-, as beautiful as it is inevitable, has

been condemned on the score of what is called "poetical

justice ". As Lear is a man more sinned against than

sinning, some would have him restored to
1 he ending. , . , . , -, . . , , . ^

his kmgdom. But crmie is not the chief
tragic motive in the Shakespearian drama any more
than in that of Greece. Lear is guilty of an error, and
through it he meets his fate. The play of Macbeth is
an exception to the general rule, in that the tragedy is
founded upon crime; on the other hand, Hamlet and
Othello, for instance, resemble Lear in being the victims
of their own character and the circumstances in which
they are placed. Cordelia can well say, "we are not
the first. Who with best meaning ha\e Incurred the
worst". That she and Lear, after all that has happened,
should not incur the worst would be contrary to the
Shakespearian method, if only for the reason that It
would be glaringly inartistic. Much as we regret Lear's
fate, It alone can satisfy our sense of the fitness of things.
As Charles Lamb has put it with admirable force: "A
happy ending! — as if tlie living martyrdom that Lear
had gone through, the flaying of his feelings alive, did
not make a fair dismissal from the stage of life the only
decorous thing- for him. If he is to live and be happy
after, if he could sustain this world's burden after, why
all this pudder and preparation, why torment us with
all this unnecessary sympathy? As If the childish pleasure
of getting his gilt robes and sceptre again could tempt
him to act over again his misused station, — as If at his
years, and with his experience, anything was left but to
die." But, it may be asked, does this ending, which Is
in accordance with artistic necessity, entirely fail to satisfy
the claims of poetical justice? Lear is not troubled by
the loss of his kingdom. Why, then, should his kingdom
be restored to him, the more especially as he had in his
sane mind given it away? What he feels is not the
actual diminution of his train by his daughters and their
other unkindnesses so much as the brutality which

INTRODUCTION xxvii

prompted these acts. Justice can be done him, not by
restoration to his king^dom, but by restoration to filial
respect, and it is satisfied by tlie love of Cordelia. That
alone "does redeem all sorrows that ever I have felt".

DRAMATIS PERSON.^

Lear, King of Britain.
King of France.
Duke of Burgundy.
Duke of Cornwall.
Duke of Albany.
Earl of Kent.
.Earl of Gloucester.
Edgar, son to Gloucester.
Edmund, bastard son to Gloucester.
Cuban, a courtier.
Old Man, tenant to Gloucester.
Doctor.
Fool.

Oswald, steward to Goneril.
A Captain employed by ICdmund.
Gentleman attendant on Cordelia.
A Herald.

Servants to Cornwall.
Goneril, ~|

Regan, V daughters to Lear.
Cordelia, J

Knights of Lear's train, Captains, Messengers, Soldiers,
and Attendants.

Scene: Britain.

KING LEAR

ACT I

Scene I. King Leat^s palace

Enter Kent, Gloucester, and Edmund

Kent. I thought the king had more affected the Duke
of Albany than Cornwall.

Giou. It did always seem so to us: but now, in the
division of the kingdom, it appears not which of the dukes
he values most ; for etjualities are so weighed, that curiosity
in neither can make choice of cither's moiety^

Kent. Is not this your son, my lord?

Glou. His breeding, sir, hath been at my charge: I have
so often blushed to acknowledge him, that now I am
brazed to it. Do you smell a fault? lo

Kent. I cannot wish the fault undone, the issue of it
being so proper.

G/ou. But I have, sir, a son by order of law, some year
elder than this, who yet is no dearer in my account: though
this knave came something saucily into the world before
he was sent for, yet was his mother fair, and he must
be acknowledged. Do you know this noble gentleman,
Edmund?

Edm. No, my lord. 19

G!oii. My lord of Kent: remember him hereafter as my
honourable friend.

29

30 KING LEAR [Act I.

Ed7n. My services to your lordship.
Kent. I must love you, and sue to know you better.
Edm. Sir, I shall study deserving.

GloH. He hath been out nine years, and away he shall
again. The king is coming.

Semiet. Enter King Lear, Cornwall, Albany, Goneril,
Regan, Cordelia, and Attendants

Lear. Attend the lords of France and Burgundy, Glou-
cester.

GloH, I shall, my liege. [^Exeunt Gloucester and Edinu7id.

Lear. Meantime we shall express our darker purpose.
Give me the map there. Know that we have divided 30
In three our kingdom: and 'tis our fast intent
To shake all cares and business from our age,
Conferring them on younger strengths, while we
Unburthen'd crawl toward death. Our son of Cornwall,
And you, our no less loving son of Albany,
We have this hour a constant will to publish
Our daughters' several dowers, that future strife
May be prevented now. The princes, France and Burgundy,
Great rivals in our youngest daughter's love.
Long in oiir court have made their amorous sojourn, 40

J\.nd here are to be answer'd. Tell me, my daughters, —
Since now we will divest us, both of rule.
Interest of territory, cares of state, —
Which of you shall we say doth love us most?
Tliat we our largest bounty may extend
Where nature doth with merit challenge. Goneril,
Our eldest-born, speak first.

Gon. Sir, I love you more than words can wield the
matter;
Dearer than eye-sight, space, and liberty;
Beyond what can be valued, rich or rare; 50

No less than life, with grace, health, beauty, honour;

Scene i.] KING LEAR 31

As much as child e'er loved, or father found;

A love that makes breath poor, and speech unable;

Beyond all manner of so much I love you.

Cor. [Aside] What shall Cordelia do? Love, and be

silent.
Lear. Of all these bounds, even from this line to this,
With shadowy forests and with champains rich'd,
With plenteous rivers and wide-skirted meads,
We make thee lady: to thine and Albany's issue
Be this perpetual. What says our second daughter, 60

Our dearest Regan, wife to Cornwall? Speak.

Reg. I am made of that self metal as my sister,
And prize me at her worth. In my true heart
I find she names my very deed of love;
Only she comes too short: that I profess
Myself an enemy to all other joys.
Which the most precious square of sense possesses;
And find I am alone felicitate
In your dear highness' love.

Cor. [Aside] Then poor Cordelia !

And yet not so; since, I am sure, my love's 70

More ponderous than my tongue.

Lear. To thee and thine hereditary ever
Remain this ample third of our fair kingdom;
No less in space, validity, and pleasure,
Than that conferr'd on Goneril. Now, our joy,
Although the last, not least, to whose young love
The vines of France and milk of Burgundy
Strive to be interess'd, what can you say to draw
A third more opulent than your sisters? Speak.

Cor. Nothing, my lord. 80

Lear. Nothing!

Cor. Nothing.

Lear. Nothing will come of nothing: speak again.

Cor. Unhappy that I am, 1 cannot heave - w-

32 KING LEAR [Act I.

My heart into my mouth : I love your majesty
According to my bond; nor more nor less.

Lear. How, how, Cordelia! mend your speech a little.
Lest it may mar your fortunes.

Cor. Good my lord,

You have begot me, bred me, loved me: I
Return those duties back as are right fit, 96

Obey you, love you, and most honour you.
Why have my sisters husbands, if they say
They love you all? Haply, when I shall wed.
That lord whose hand must take my plight shall carry
Half my love with him, half my care and duty:
Sure, I shall never marry like my sisters.
To love my father all.

Lear. But goes thy heart with this?

Cor. Ay, good my lord.

Lear. So young, and so untender?

Cor. So young, my lord, and true. 100

Lear. Let it be so; thy truth then be thy dower:
For, by the sacred radiance of the sun,
The mysteries of Hecate, and the night;
By all the operation of the orbs
From whom we do exist and cease to be;
Here I disclaim all my paternal care.
Propinquity and property of blood.
And as a stranger to my heart and me
Hold thee from this for ever. The barbarous Scythian,
Or he that makes his generation messes no

To gorge his appetite, shall to my bosom
Be as well neighbour'd, pitied, and relieved,
As thou my sometime daughter.

Ke)ii. Good my liege,—

Lear. Peace, Kent!
Come not between the dragon and his wrath.
I loved her most, and thought to set my rest

Scene r.] KING LEAR 33

On her kind nursery. Hence, and avoid my sight!

So be my grave my peace, as here I give

Her father's heart from her! Call PVance. Who stirs?

Call Burgundy. Cornwall and Albany, 120

With my two daughters' dowers digest this third:

Let pride, which she calls plainness, marry her.

I do invest you jointly with my power.

Pre eminence, and all the large effects

That troop with majesty. Ourself, by monthly course,

With reservation of an hundred knights.

By you to be sustain'd, shall our abode

Make with you by due turns. Only we still retain

The name, and all the additions to a king;

The sway, revenue, execution of the rest, 130

Beloved sons, be yours: which to confirm.

This coronet part betwixt you. [Giving the croivn.

Kent. Royal Lear,

Whom I have ever honour'd as my king,
Loved as my father, as my master follow'd,
As my great patron thought on in my prayers, —

Lear. The bow is bent and drawn, make from the shaft.

Kent. Let it fall rather, though the fork invade
The region of my heart: be Kent unmannerly,
When Lear is mad. What wilt thou do, old man?
Think'st thou that duty shall have dread to speak, 140

When power to fiattery bows? To plainness honour 's
bound,
^-- When majesty stoops to folly. Reverse thy doom.
And in thy best consideration check
This hideous rashness: answer my life my judgement,
Thy youngest daughter does not love thee least;
Nor are those empty-hearted whose low sound
Reverbs no hollowness.

Lear. Kent, on thy life, no more.

Kent. My life I never held but as a pawn

(M906) C

34 KING LEAR [Act L

To wage against thy enemies; nor fear to lose it,
Thy safety being the motive.

Lear. Out of my sight! 150

Kent. See better, Lear; and let me still remain
The true blank of thine eye.

Lear. Now, by Apollo, —

Kent. Now, by Apollo, king.

Thou swear'st thy gods in vain.

Lear. O, vassal! miscreant!

\Laying his hand on his sword.

^ ' \ Dear sir, forbear.
Corn- )

Kent. Do;
Kill thy physician, and the fee bestow
Upon thy foul disease. Revoke thy doom;
Or, whilst I can vent clamour from my throat,
I '11 tell thee thou dost evil.

Lear. Hear me, recreant! 160

On thine allegiance, hear me!
Since thou hast sought to make us break our vow,
Which we durst never yet, and with strain'd pride
To come between our sentence and our power,
Which nor our nature nor our place can bear,
Our potency made good, take thy reward.
Five days we do allot thee, for provision
To shield thee from diseases of the world;
And on the sixth to turn thy hated back
Upon our kingdom: if on the tenth day following 170

Thy banish'd trunk be found in our dominions.
The moment is thy death. Away ! by Jupiter,
This shall not be revoked.

Kent. Fare thee well, king: sith thus thou wilt appear,
Freedom lives hence, and banishment is here.
[To Corde/ia] The gods to their dear shelter take thee, maid,
That justly think'st, and hast most rightly said!

Scene i.j KING LEAR 35

[To A'c\i;;a/i and Goneril\ And your large speeches may

your deeds approve,
That good effects may spring from words of love.
Thus Kent, O princes, bids you all adieu; 180

He '11 shape his old course in a country new. \Exit.

Flourish. Reenter Gloucester, with France,
Burgundy, and Attendants

Glou. Here 's France and Burgundy, my noble lord.

Lear. My lord of Burgundy,
We first address towards you, who with this king
Hath rivall'd for our daughter: what, in the least,
Will you require in present dower with her.
Or cease your quest of love?

Bur. Most royal majesty,

I crave no more than what your highness offer'd,
Nor will you tender less.

Lear. Right noble Burgundy,

When she was dear to us, we did hold her so; 190

But now her price is fall'n. Sir, there she stands:
If aught within that little seeming substance,
Or all of it, with our displeasure pieced.
And nothing more, may fitly like your grace,
She 's there and she is yours.

Bur. I know no answer.

Lear. Will you, with those infirmities she owes,
Unfriended, new-adopted to our hate,
Dower"d with our curse, and stranger'd with our oath.
Take her, or leave her?

Bur. Pardon me, royal sir;

Election makes not up on such conditions. 200

L^ar. Then leave her, sir; for, by the power that made
me,
I tell you all her wealth. \To France] For you, great king,
I would not from your love make such a stray,

36 KING LEAR [Act I.

To match you where I hate; therefore beseech you
To avert your hking a more worthier way
Than on a wretch Avhom nature is ashamed
Almost to acknowledge hers.

France. This is most strange,

That she, that even but now was your best object.
The argument of your praise, balm of your age,
Most best, most dearest, should in this trice of time 210
Commit a thing so monstrous, to dismantle
So many folds of favour. Sure, her offence
Must be of such unnatural degree,
That monsters it, or your fore-vouch'd affection
Fall'n into taint: which to believe of her.
Must be a faith that reason without miracle
Could never plant in m.e.

Cor. I yet beseech your majesty, —

If for I want that glib and oily art.
To speak and purpose not, since what I well intend,
I 'U do 't before, I speak, — that you make known 220

It is no vicious blot, murder, or foulness,
No unchaste action, or dishonour'd step.
That hath deprived me of your grace and favour;
But even for want of that for which I am richer,
A still-soliciting eye, and such a tongue
As I am glad I have not, though not to have it
Hath lost me in your liking.

Lear. Better thou

Hadst not been born than not to have pleased me better.

France. Is it but this, — a tardiness in nature
Which often leaves the history unspoke 230

That it intends to do? My lord of Burgundy,
What say you to the lady? Love's not love
When it is mingled with regards that stand
Aloof from the entire point. Will you have her?
She is herself a dowry.

Scene i.] KING LEAR 37

Bur. Royal Lear,

Give but that portion which yourself proposed,
And here I take Cordelia by the hand,
Duchess of Burgundy.

Lear. Nothing: I have sworn; I am firm.

Bur. I am sorry, then, you have so lost a father 240

That you must lose a husband;

Cor. Peace.be with Burgundy!

Since that respects of fortune, are his love,
I shall not be his wife.

Fraru-e. Fairest Cordelia, that art most rich, being poor;
Most choice, forsaken ; and most loved, despised !
Thee and thy virtues here I seize upon : =

Be it lawful I take up what 's cast away.
Gods, gods! 'tis strange that from their cold'st neglect
My love should kindle to inflamed respect.
Thy dowerless daughter, king, thrown to my chance, 250
Is queen of us, of ours, and our fair France :
Not all the dukes of waterish Burgundy
Can buy this unprized j^recious maid of me.
Bid them farewell, Cordelia, though unkind:
Thou losest here, a better where to find.

Lear. Thou hast her, France: let her be thine; for we
Have no such daughter, nor shall ever see
That face of hers again. Therefore be gone
Without our grace, our love, our benison.
Come, noble Burgundy. 260

{Flourish. Exeunt all but France^
Goneril, Regan, and Cordelia.
France. Bid farewell to your sisters.
Cor. The jewels of our father, with wash'd eyes
Cordelia leaves you : I know you what you are ;
And like a sister am most loath to call
Your faults as they are named. Use well our father:
To your professed bosoms I commit him :

38 KING LEAR [Act I.

But yet, alas, stood I within his grace,
I would prfefer him to a better place.
So, farewell to you both.

Reg. Prescribe not us our duties.

Gon. Let your study 270

Be to content your lord, who hath received you
At fortune's alms. You have obedience scanted.
And well are worth the want that you have wanted.

Cor. Time shall unfold what plaited cunning hides:
Who cover faults, at last shame them derides.
Well may you prosper!

France. Come, my fair Cordelia.

[Exeunt France and Cordelia.

Gon. Sister, it is not a little I have to say of what most
nearly appertains to us both. I think our father will
hence to-night.

Reg. That's most certain, and with you; next month
with us. 281

Gon. You see how full of changes his age is; the
observation we have made of it hath not been little: he
always loved our sister most; and with what poor judge-
ment he hath now cast her off appears too grossly.

Reg. 'Tis the infirmity of his age: yet he hath ever but
slenderly known himself.

Gon. The best and soundest of his time hath been but
rash; then must we look to receive from his age, not
alone the imperfections of long-engraffed condition, but
therewithal the unruly waywardness that infirm and
choleric years bring with them. 292

Reg. Such unconstant starts are we like to have from
him as this of Kent's banishment.

Gon. There is further compliment of leave-taking be-
tween France and him. Pray you, let's hit together: if
our father carry authority with such dispositions as he
bears, this last surrender of his will but offend us.

Scene a.] KING LEAR 39

J^cj;. We shall further think on 't. 299

Gon. We must do something, and i' the heat. [JL.vcu/U.

Scene II. T/ie Earl of Gloucester s castle

Enter Ed.mund, with a letter

Edm. Thou, nature, art my goddess; to thy law
My services are bound. Wherefore should I
Stand in the plague of custom, and permit
The curiosity of nations to deprive me,
For that I am some twelve or fourteen moonshines
Lag of a brother? Why bastard? wherefore base?
When my dimensions are as well compact.
My mind as generous, and my shape as true,
As honest madam's issue? Why brand they us
With base? with baseness? bastardy? base, base? 10

Legitimate Edgar, I must have your hand:
Our father's love is to the bastard Edmund
As to the legitimate: fine word, 'legitimate'!
Well, my legitimate, if this letter speed,
And my invention thrive, Edmund the base
Shall top the legitimate. I grow; I prosper:
Now, gods, stand up for bastards !

Enter Gloucester

Glou. Kent banish 'd thus! and France in choler parted!
And the king gone to-night! subscribed his power!
Confined to exhibition! All this done 20

Upon the gad! Edmund, how now! what news?

Edm. So please your lordship, none.

[Putting up the letter.

Glou. Why so earnestly seek you to put up that letter?

Edm. I know no news, my lord.

Glou. What paper were you reading?

4° KING LEAR [Act I.

Edm. Nothing, my lord.

Glou. No? What needed, then, that terrible dispatch
of it into your pocket? the quality of nothing hath not
such need to hide itself. Let 's see : come, if it be nothing,
I shall not need spectacles. 30

Edm. I beseech you, sir, pardon me: it is a letter from
my brother, that I have not all o'er-read; and for so much
as I have perused, I find it not fit for your o'er-looking.

Glou. Give me the letter, sir.

Edm. I shall offend, either to detain or give it. The
contents, as in part I understand them, are to blame.

Glou. Let 's see, let 's see.

Edjfi. I hope, for my brother's justification, he wrote
this but as an essay or taste of my virtue. 39

Glou. \Rcads\ ' This policy and reverence of age makes
the world bitter to the best of our times; keeps our for-
tunes from us till our oldness cannot relish them. I begin
to find an idle and fond bondage in the oppression of aged
tyranny; who sways, not as it hath power, but as it is
suffered. Come to me, that of this I may speak more.
If our father would sleep till I waked him, you should
enjoy half his revenue for ever, and live the beloved of
your brother, Edgar.' 48

Hum — conspiracy! — 'Sleep till I waked him, — you should
enjoy half his revenue',— My son Edgar! Had he a hand
to write this? a heart and brain to breed it in?— When
came this to you? who brought it?

Edjn. It was not brought me, my lord; there's the
cunning of it; I found it thrown in at the casement of my
closet.

Glou. You know the character to be your brother's?
Ed7n. If the matter were good, my lord, I durst swear it
were his; but, in respect of that, I would fain think it
were not.

Glou. It is his. 60

Scene 2.] KING LEAR 41

Edni. It is his hand, my lord; but I hope his heart is
not in the contents.

Gloii. Hath he never heretofore sounded you in this
business?

Edm. Never, my lord: but I have heard him oft main-
tain it to be fit, that, sons at perfect age, and fathers
declining, the father should be as ward to the son, and the
son manage his revenue.

Glou. O villain, villain! His very opinion in the letter!
Abhorred villain! Unnatural, detested, brutish villain!
worse than brutish! Go, sirrah, seek him; I'll apprehend
him: abominable villain! Where is he? 72

Edm. I do not well know, my lord. If it shall please
you to suspend your indignation against my brother till
you can derive from him better testimony of his intent,
you shall run a certain course; where, if you violently pro-
ceed against him, mistaking his purpose, it would make
a great gap in your own honour, and shake in pieces the
heart of his obedience. I dare pawn down my life for him,
that he hath wrote this to feel my affection to your honour,
and to no further pretence of danger. 81

Glou. Think you so?

Edm. If your honour judge it meet, I will place you
where you shall hear us confer of this, and by an auricular
assurance have your satisfaction; and that without any
further delay than this very evening.

Glou. He cannot be such a monster —

Edm. Nor is not, sure.

Glou. To his father, that so tenderly and entirely loves
him. Heaven and earth! Edmund, seek him out; wind
me into him, I pray you: frame the business after your
own wisdom. I would unstate myself, to be in a due
resolution. 93

Edm. I will seek him, sir, presently; convey the busi-
ness as I shall find means, and acquaint you withal.

42 KING LEAR [Act J.

GIou. These late eclipses in the sun and moon portend
no good to us: though the wisdom of nature can reason
it thus and thus, yet nature finds itself scourged by the
sequent effects: love cools, friendship falls off, brothers
divide: in cities, mutinies; in countries, discord; in palaces,
treason; and the bond cracked 'twixt son and father. This
villain of mine comes under the prediction ; there 's son
against father: the king falls from bias of nature; there's
father against child. We have seen the best of our time:
machinations, hoUowness, treachery, and all ruinous dis-
orders, follow us disquietly to our graves. Find out this
villain,. Edmund; it shall lose thee nothing; do it care-
fully. And the noble and true-hearted Kent banished ! his
offence, honesty! 'T is strange. \Exit. 109

Edjn. This is the excellent foppery of the world, that,
when we are sick in fortune, — often the surfeit of our
own behaviour, — we make guilty of our disasters the sun,
the moon, and the stars: as if we were villains by neces-
sity; fools by heavenly compulsion; knaves, thieves, and
treachers, by spherical predominance; drunkards, liars,
and adulterers, by an enforced obedience of planetary
influence; and all that we are evil in, by a divine thrust-
ing on: an admirable evasion of man, to lay his goatish
disposition to the charge of a star! Edgar — 119

Enter Edgar

and pat he comes like the catastrophe of the old comedy:
my cue is villanous melancholy, with a sigh like Tom
o' Bedlam. O, these eclipses do portend these divisions!
fa, sol, la, mi.

Edt:;. How now, brother Edmund! what serious con-
templation are you in?

Edtn. I am thinking, brother, of a prediction I read
this other day, what should follow these eclipses.

Edg. Do you busy yourself about that? 128

Scene 2.] KING LEAR 43

Edm. I promise you, the effects he writes of succeed
unhappily; as of unnaturahiess between the child and
the parent; death, dearth, dissolutions of ancient amities;
divisions in state, menaces and maledictions against king
and nobles; needless diffidences, banishment of friends,
dissipation of cohorts, nuptial breaches, and I know not
what.

Edg. How long have you been a sectary astronomical?

Edm. Come, come; when saw you my father last?

Edg. Why, the night gone by.

Edm. Spake you with him?

Edg. Ay, two hours together. 140

Edm. Parted you in good terms? Found you no dis-
pleasure in him by word or countenance?

Edg. None at all.

Edm. Bethink yourself wherein you may have offended
him: and at my entreaty forbear his presence till some
little time hath qualified the heat of his displeasure; which
at this instant so rageth in him, that with the mischief
of your person it would scarcely allay.

Edg. Some villain hath done me wrong. 149

Edm. That 's my fear. I pray you, have a continent
forbearance till the speed of his rage goes slower; and,
as I say, retire with me to my lodging, from whence I will
fitly bring you to hear my lord speak: pray ye, go; there's
my key: if you do stir abroad, go armed.

Edg. Armed, brother!

Edm. Brother, 1 advise you to the best; go armed: I
am no honest man if there be any good meaning towards
you: I have told you what I have seen and heard; but
faintly, nothing like the image and horror of it: pray you,
away. 160

Edg. Shall I hear from you anon?

Edm. I do serve you in this business. \Exit Edgar.

A credulous father I and a brother noble,

44 KING LEAR [Act I.

Whose nature is so far from doing harms,

That he suspects none: on whose foolish honesty

My practices ride easy ! I see the business.

Let me, if not by birth, have lands by wit:

All with me 's meet that I can fashion fit. [Exit

Scene III. T/ze Duke of Albany's palace

Enter Goneril, and Oswald, her steward

Gon. Did my father strike my gentleman for chiding
of his fool?

Osw. Yes, madam.

Gon. By day and night he wrongs me ; every hour
He flashes into one gross crime or other,
That sets us all at odds: I '11 not endure it:
His knights grow riotous, and himself upbraids us
On every trifle. When he returns from hunting,
I will not speak with him; say I am sick:
If you come slack of former services,
You shall do well; the fault of it I '11 answer. lo

Osw. He's coming, madam; I hear him. [Horns within.

Gon. Put on what weary negligence you please.
You and your fellows; I 'Id have it come to question:
If he distaste it, let him to our sister.
Whose mind and mine, I know, in that are one,
Not to be over-ruled. Idle old man.
That still would manage those authorities
That he hath given away! Now, by my life.
Old fools are babes again, and must be used
With checks as flatteries, when they are seen abused. 20
Remember what I tell you.

Os7i>. Well, md'dam.

Gon. And let his knights have colder looks among you;
What grows of it, no matter ; advise your fellows so :
I would breed from hence occasions, and 1 shall.

Scene 4-] KING LEAR 45

That I may speak : I '11 write straight to my sister,

To hold my very course. Prepare for dinner. [^Exeunt.

Scene IV. A hall in the same

Enter Kent, disguised

Kent. If but as well I other accents borrow,
That can my speech defuse, my good intent
May carry through itself to that full issue
For which I razed my likeness. Now, banish'd Kent,
If thou canst serve where thou dost stand condemn'd.
So may it come, thy master, whom thou lovest,
Shall find thee full of labours.

Horns within. Enter Lear, Knights, and Attendants

Lear. Let me not stay a jot for dinner; go get it ready. S
[Exit an Attendant.^ How now! what art thou?

Kent. A man, sir. lo

Lear. What dost thou profess? what wouldst thou with
us?

Kent. I do profess to be no less than I seem; to serve
him truly that will put me in trust: to love him that is
honest; to converse with him that is wise, and says little;
to fear judgement; to fight when I cannot choose; and to
eat no fish.

Lear. What art thou?

Kent. A very honest-hearted fellow, and as poor as the
king. 2o

Lear. If thou be as poor for a subject as he is for a king,
thou art poor enough. What wouldst thou?

Kent. Service.

Lear. Who wouldst thou serve?

Kent. You.

Lear. Dost thou know me, fellow?

46 KING LEAR [Act I.

Kent. No, sir; but you have that in your countenance
which I would fain call master.

Lear. What 's that?

Keiit. Authority. 30

Lear. What services canst thou do?

Kent. I can keep honest counsel, ride, run, mar a
curious tale in telling it, and deliver a plain message
bluntly: that which ordinary men are fit for, I am qualified
in; and the best of me is diligence.

Lear. How old art thou?

Kent. Not so young, sir, to love a woman for singing,
nor so old to dote on her for anything: I have years on
my back forty-eight. 39

Lear. Follow me; thou shalt serve me: if I like thee
no worse after dinner, I will not part from thee yet.
Dinner, ho, dinner! Where's my knave? my fool? Go
you, and call my fool hither. \Exit an Atie?tdant.

Enter Oswald

You, you, sirrah, where 's my daughter?

Osiv. So please you, — [^Exit.

Lear. What says the fellow there? Call the clotpoll
back. [Exit a Knight.'] Where's my fool, ho? I think
the world 's asleep.

Re-enter Knight

How now! where 's that mongrel?

Knight. He says, my lord, your daughter is not well. 50

Lear. Why came not the slave back to me when I called
him?

Knight. Sir, he answered me in the roundest manner,
he would not.

Lear. He would not!

K?iight. My lord, I know not what the matter is; but,
to my judgement, your highness is not entertained with

Scene 4.] KING LF.AR 47

that ceremonious affection as you were wont; there's a
great abatement of kindness appears as well in the general
dependants as in the duke himself also and your daughter.

Lear. Hal say est thou so? 61

Knight. I beseech you, pardon me, my lord, if I be
mistaken; for my duty cannot be silent when I think your
highness wronged.

Lear. Thou but rememberest me of mine own concep-
tion: I have perceived a most faint neglect of late; which
I have rather blamed as mine own jealous curiosity than
as a very pretence and purpose of unkindness: I will look
further into 't. But where 's my fool? I have not seen him
this two days. 70

Knight. Since my young lady's going into France, sir,
the fool hath much pined away.

Lear. No more of that ; I have noted it well. Go you,
and tell my daughter I would speak with her. \_Exit aji
Attendant.^ Go you, call hither my fool.

[Exit an Attendant.

Re-enter Oswald

O, you sir, you, come you hither, sir: who am I, sir?

OscV. My lady's father.

Lear. 'My lady's father'! my lord's knave: you dog!
you slave! you curl

Os7v. I am none of these, my lord; I beseech your
pardon. 81

Lear. Do you bandy looks with me, you rascal?

[Sinking him.

Os'iv. I '11 not be struck, my lord.

Kent. Nor tripped neither, you base foot-ball player.

[ Tripping up his heels.

L^ar. I thank thee, fellow; thou servest me, and I'll
love thee.

Kent. Come, sir, arise, away! I'll teach you differences;

48 KING LEAR [Act I.

away, away! If you will measure your lubber's length
again, tarry: but away! go to; have you wisdom? so.

[_Pitshes Oswald out.

Lear. Now, my friendly knave, I thank thee: there's

earnest of thy service. {^Giving Kent money. 91

Enter Fool

Fool. Let me hire him too : here 's my coxcomb.

\Offering Kent his cap.
Lear. How now, my pretty knave! how dost thou?
Fool. Sirrah, you were best take my coxcomb.
Kefit. Why, fool?

i^ci(?/. ■ Why, for taking one's part that's out of favour:
nay, an thou canst not smile as the wind sits, thou 'It catch
cold shortly: there, take my coxcomb: why, this fellow
has banished two on 's daughters, and did the third a
blessing against his will: if thou follow him, thou must
needs wear my coxcomb. How now, nuncle! Would I
had two coxcombs and two daughters! 102

Lear. Why, my boy?

Fool. If I gave them all my living, I 'Id keep my cox-
combs myself. There 's mine; beg another of thy daughters.
Lear. Take heed, sirrah; the whip.

Fool. Truth 's a dog must to kennel; he must be whipped
out, when Lady the brach may stand by the fire and stink.
Lear. A pestilent gall to me!

Fool. Sirrah, I '11 teach thee a speech. no

Lear. Do.
Fool Mark it, nuncle:

Have more than thou showest,
Speak less than thou knowest,
Lend less than thou owest,
Ride more than thou goest.
Learn more than thou trowest,
Set less than thou throwest;

Scene 4.] KING LEAR

49

And thou shalt have more

Than two tens to a score. 120

Kent. This is nothing, fool.

Fool. Then 't is Hke the breath of an unfee'd lawyer;
you gave me nothing for't. Can you make no use of
nothing, nuncle?

Liar. \\'hy, no, boy ; nothing can be made out of nothing.
Fool. [To Kent] Prithee, tell him, so much the rent of
his land comes to: he will not believe a fool.
Lear. A bitter fool !

Fool. Dost thou know the difference, my boy, between
a bitter fool and a sweet fool? 130

Lear. No, lad; teach me.
Fool. That lord that counsell'd thee

To give away thy land,
Come place him here by me

Do thou for him stand:
The sweet and bitter fool
\\'ill presently appear;
The one in motley here,
The other found out there.

Lear. Dost thou call me fool, boy? 140

Fool. All thy other titles thou hast given away; that

thou wast born with.

Kent. This is not altogether fool, my lord.

Fool. No, faith, lords and great men will not let me; if

I had a monopoly out, they would have part on't: and

ladies too, they will not let me have all fool to myself;

they '11 be snatching. Give me an egg, nuncle, and I 'II

give^hee two crowns.

Lear. What two crowns shall they be? 149

Fool. \\'hy, after I have cut the egg i' the middle, and

eat up the meat, the two crowns of the egg. When thou

clovest thy crown i' the middle, and gavest away both

CM906) p

50 KING LEAR [Act I.

parts, thou borest thy ass on thy back o'er the dirt: thou
hadst little wit in thy bald crown, when thou gavest thy
golden one away. If I speak like myself in this, let him
be whipped that first finds it so.

I \Singmg\ Fools had ne'er less wit in a year;

For wise men are grown foppish, ° '
They know not how their wits to wear,

Their manners are so apish. i6o

Zear. When were you wont to be so full of songs, sirrah?
J^oo/. I have used it, nuncle, ever since thou madest
thy daughters thy mother: for when thou gavest them the
rod, and puttest down thine own breeches,
[Singing] Then they for sudden joy did weep.
And I for sorrow sung,
That such a king should play bo-peep,
And go the fools among.

Prithee, nuncle, keep a schoolmaster that can teach thy
fool to lie: I would fain learn to He. 170

Zear. An you lie, sirrah, we '11 have you whipped.

Zbo/. I marvel what kin thou and thy daughters are:
they '11 have me whipped for speaking true, thou 'It have
me whipped for lying; and sometimes I am whipped for
holding my peace. 7 I had rather be any kind o' thing than
a fool: and yet I would not be thee, nuncle; thou hast
pared thy wit o' both sides, and left nothing i' the middle :
here comes one o' the parings. 178

Enter Gqneril

Zear. How now, daughter! what makes that frontlet
on? Methinks you are too much of late i' the frown.

Fool. Thou wast a pretty fellow when thou hadst no
need to care for her frowning; n^w thou art an O without
a figure: I am better than thou art now; I am a fool,
thou art nothing. [To Gon^ Yes, forsooth, I will hold

Scene 4.]

KING LEAR

SI

200

my tongue; so your face bids me, though you say nothing.
Mum, mum,

He that keeps nor crust nor crum.

Weary of all, shall want some.

[Po/rifins!' io Zt'ar] That 's a shealed peascod.

Go/i. Not only, sir, this your all-licensed fool, 190

But other of your insolent retinue
Do hourly carp and quarrel; breaking forth
In rank and not-to-be-endured riots. Sir,
I had thought, by making this well known unto you,
To have found a safe redress; but now grow fearful
By what yourself too late have spoke and done.
That you protect this course, and put it on
By your allowance; which if you should, the fault
^^'ould not 'scape censure, nor the redresses sleep,
Which, in the tender of a wholesome weal,
Might in their working do you that offence,
Which else were shame, that then necessity
Will call discreet proceeding.

Ju?o/. For, you know, nuncle, „

The hedge-sparrow fed the cuckoo so long,
That it had it head bit off by it young.

So, out went the candle, and we were left darkling.

Zear. Are you our daughter?

Gon. Come, sir.
I would you would make use of that good wisdom, 210

Whereof I know you are fraught, and put away
These dispositions that of late transform you
From what you rightly are.

Juyo/. May not an ass know when the cart draws the
horse? Whoop, Jug! I love thee.

Lear. Doth any here know me? This is not Lear:
Doth Lear walk thus? speak thus? \\'here are his eyes?
Either his notion weakens, his discernings

52 KING LEAR [Act I.

Arc lethargied — Ha! waking? 'tis not so.

Who is it that can tell me who I am? 220

Fool. Lear's shadow.

Lear. I would learn that; for, by the marks of sove-
reignty, knowledge, and reason, I should be false persuaded
I had daughters.

Fool. Which they will make an obedient father.

Lear. Your name, fair gentlewoman?

Gon. This admiration, sir, is much o' the savour
Of other your new pranks. I do beseech you
To understand my purposes aright:

As you are old and reverend, you should be wise. 230

Here do you keep a hundred knights and squires;
Men so disorder'd, so debosh'd and bold,
That this our court, infected with their manners,
Shows like a riotous inn: epicurism and lust
Make it more like a tavern or a brothel
Than a graced palace. The shame itself doth speak
For instant remedy ;^e then desired 2.^7
By her, that else wiTTtake the thing she begs,
A little to disquantity your train;

And the remainder that shall still depend, 240

To be such men as may besort your age.
And know themselves and you. y

Lear. n^arkness and devils!

Saddle my horses; call my train together.
Degenerate bastard! I '11 not trouble thee:
Yet have I left a daughter.

Gon. You strike my people, and your disorder'd rabble
Make servants of their betters.

Enter Albany

Lear. Woe, that too late repents,— [7<? AlbP\ O, sir, are
you come?
Is it your will? Speak, sir. Prepare my horses.

Scene 4.] KING LEAR S3

Ingratitude, thou marble-hearted fiend, 250

More hideous when thou show'st thee in a child
Than the sea-monster!

Alb. I'ray, sir, be patient.

Lear. [To Go/i.] Detested kite! thou liest:
My train are men of choice and rarest parts,
That all particulars ot" duty know.
And in the most exact regard support
The worships of their name. O most small fault,
How ugly didst thou in Cordelia show !
That, like an engine, wrench'd my frame of nature
From the fix'd place; drew from my heart all love, 260

And added to the gall. O Lear, Lear, Lear!
Beat at this gate, that let thy folly in, [Striking his head.
And thy dear judgement out! Go, go, my people.

A/ij. My lord, I am guiltless, as I am ignorant
Of what hath moved you.

Lear. It may be so, my lord.

Hear, nature, hear; dear goddess, hear!
Suspend thy purpose, if thou didst intend
To make this creature fruitful!
Into her womb convey sterility!

Dry up in her the organs of increase, 270

And from her derogate body never spring
A babe to honour her! If she must teem,
Create her child of spleen; that it may live
And be a thwart disnatured torment to her!
Let it stamp wrinkles in her brow of youth;
With cadent tears fret channels in her cheeks;
Turn all her mother's pains and benefits
To laughter and contempt; that she may feel
How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is
To have a thankless child! Away, away! [Exit. 280

Alb. Now, gods that we adore, whereof comes this?

Gon. Never afflict yourself to know the cause;

54 KING LEAR [Act I.

But let his disposition have that scope
That dotage gives it.

Re-enter Lear

Lear. What, fifty of my followers at a clap!
Within a fortnight!

Alb. What 's the matter, sir?

Lear. I'll tell thee: \To Go?i.^ Life and death! I am
ashamed
That thou hast power to shake my manhood thus;
That these hot tears, which break from me perforce, 289
Should make thee worth them. Blasts and fogs upon thee!
The untented woundings of a father's curse
Pierce every sense about thee ! Old fond eyes,
Beweep this cause again, I '11 pluck ye out.
And cast you, with the waters that you lose,
To temper clay. Yea, is it come to this?_
Let it be so : yet have I left a daughter,
Who, I am sure, is kind and comfortable:
When she shall hear this of thee, with her nails
She '11 flay thy wolvish visage. Thou shalt find
That I '11 resume the shape which thou dost think 300

I have cast off for ever: thou shalt, I warrant thee.

[^Exeiitit Lear, Kent, and Attendants.

Gon. Do you mark that, my lord?

Alb. I cannot be so partial, Goneril,
To the great love I bear you, —

Gon. Pray you, content. What, Oswald, ho!
\To the Fool\ You, sir, more knave than fool, after your
master.

Fool. Nuncle Lear, nuncle Lear, tarry and take the fool
with thee.

A fox, when one has caught her,

And such a daughter, 310

Should sure to the slaughter,

Scene 4] KING LEAR 55

If my cap would buy a halter:

So the fool follows after. [Exi/.

Gon. This man hath had good counsel. A hundred
knights I
Tis politic and safe to let him keep
At point a hundred knights: yes, that on every dream,
Each buzz, each fancy, each complaint, dislike,
He may enguard his dotage with their powers.
And hold our lives in mercy. Oswald, I say!

Alb. Well, you may fear too far.

Gon. Safer than trust too far :

Let me still take away the harms I fear, 321

Not fear still to be taken : I know his heart.
What he hath utter'd I have writ my sister:
If she sustain him and his hundred knights,
When I have show'd the unfitness, —

Re-enter Oswald

How now, Oswald!
What, have you writ that letter to my sister?

Osiv. Yes, madam.

Gon. Take you some company, and away to horse:
Inform her full of my particular fear;

And thereto add such reasons of your own 330

As may compact it more. Get you gone;
And hasten your return. [Exit Oswald.] No, no, my

lord,
This milky gentleness and course of yours
Though I condemn not, yet, under pardon,
You are much more attask'd for want of wisdom
Than praised for harmful mildness.

A/b. How far your eyes may pierce I cannot tell:
Striving to better, oft we mar what 's well.

Gon. Nay, then —

Alb. Well, well ; the event. [Exeunt. 340

56 KING LEAR [Act I. Sc. 5.

Scene V. Court before the same

Efiter Lear, Kent, atid Fool

Lear. Go you before to Gloucester with these letters.
Acquaint my daughter no further with any thing you
know than comes from her demand out of the letter.
If your diligence be not speedy, I shall be there afore
you.

Kent. I will not sleep, my lord, till I have delivered
your letter. \Exit.

Fool. If a man's brains were in 's heels, were 't not in
danger of kibes?

Lear. Ay, boy. 10

Fool. Then, I prithee, be merry; thy wit shall ne'er go
slip-shod.

Lear. Ha, ha, ha!

Fool. Shalt see thy other daughter will use thee kindly;
for though she 's as like this as a crab 's like an apple, yet
I can tell what I can tell.

Lear. Why, what canst thou tell, my boy?

Fool. She will taste as like this as a crab does to a crab.
Thou canst tell why one's nose stands i' the middle on 's
face? 20

Lear. No.

Fool. Why, to keep one's eyes of either side's nose;
that what a man cannot smell out, he may spy into.

Lear. I did her wrong —

Fool. Canst tell how an oyster makes his shell?

Lear. Na

Fool. Nor I neither; but I can tell why a snail has a
house.

Lear. \\'hy?

Fool. Why, to put 's head in ; not to give it away to
his daughters, and leave his horns without a case. 31

Act II. Sc. I.] KING LEAR 57

Liar. I will forget my nature. So kind a father! Be
my horses ready?

Fool. Thy asses are gone about 'em. The reason why
the seven stars are no more than seven is a pretty reason.

Lear. Because they are not eight?

Fool. Ves, indeed: thou wouldst make a good fool.

Lear. To take 't again perforce ! Monster ingratitude!

Fool. If thou wcrt my fool, nuncle, I 'Id have thee beaten
for being old before thy time. 40

Lear. How 's that?

Fool. Thou shouldst not have been old till thou hadst
been wise.

Lear. O, let me not be mad, not mad, sweet heaven !
Keep me in temper: I would not be mad!

Enter Gentleman

How now! are the horses ready?
Kent. Ready, my lord.
Lear. Come, boy. {Exeunt.

ACT n

Scene I. The Earl of Gloucester's castle

Enter Edmund, and Cur.an meets him

Edm. Save thee, Curan.

Cur. And you, sir. I have been with your father, and
given him notice that the Duke of Cornwall and Regan
his duchess will be here with him this night.

Edm. How comes that?

Cur. Nay, I know not. You have heard of the news
abroad; I mean the whispered ones, for they are yet but
ear-kissing arguments?

S8 KING LEAR [Act IL

Edin. Not I: pray you, what are they?

Cur. Have you heard of no likely wars toward, 'twixt
the Dukes of Cornwall and Albany? ii

Edm. Not a word.

Cur. You may do, then, in time. Fare you well, sir.

\Exit.

Edm. The duke be here to-night? The better! best!
This weaves itself perforce into my business.
My father hath .set guard to take my brother j
And I have one thing, of a queasy question,
Which I must act: briefness and fortune, work!
Brother, a word; descend: brother, I say!

Enter Edgar

My father watches: O sir, fly this place; 20

Intelligence is given where you are hid;

You have now the good advantage of the night:

Have you not spoken 'gainst the Duke of Cornwall?

He's coming hither; now, i' the night, i' the haste,

And Regan with him: have you nothing said

Upon his party 'gainst the Duke of Albany?

Advise yourself.

Edg. I am sure on 't, not a word.

Edm. I hear my father coming: pardon me;
In cunning I must draw my sword upon you :
Draw; seem to defend yourself; now quit you well. 30

Yield: come before my father. Light, ho, here!
Fly, brother. Torches, torches! So, farewell.

[Exit Edgar.
Some blood drawn on me would beget opinion

[ Wounds his arm.
Of my more fierce endeavour: I have seen drunkards
Do more than this in sport. Father, father!
Stop, stop! No help?

Scene i.] KING LEAR 59

Enter GLOUCESTER, and Servants with torches

Gluu. Now, Edmund, where 's the villain?

Edm. Here stood he in the dark, his sharp sword out,
Mumbling of wicked charms, conjuring the moon
To stand auspicious mistress, —

Glou. But where is he? 40

Edm. Look, sir, I bleed.

Glou. Where is the villain, Edmund?

Edm. Fled this way, sir. When by no means he could —

Glou. Pursue him, ho! Go after. \Exeunt some Ser-
vant s.\ By no means what?

Edtn. Persuade me to the murder of your lordship;
But that I told him the revenging gods
'Gainst parricides did all their thunders bend,
Spoke with how manifold and strong a bond
The child was bound to the father; sir, in fine,
Seeing how loathly opposite I stood

To his unnatural purpose, in fell motion, 50

With his prepared sword, he charges home
My unprovided body, lanced mine arm:
But when he saw my best alarum'd spirits,
Bold in the quarrel's right, roused to the encounter,
Or whether gasted by the noise I made,
Full suddenly he fled.

Glou. Let him fly far: ,

Not in this land shall he remain uncaught;
And found — dispatch. The noble duke my master,
My worthy arch and patron, comes to-night:
By his authority I will proclaim it, 60

That he which finds him shall deserve our thanks,
Bringing the murderous coward to the stake;
He that conceals him, death.

Edm. When I dissuaded him from his intent,
And found him pight to do it, with curst speech

6o KING LEAR [Act II.

I threaten'd to discover him: he replied,

' Thou unpossessing bastard ! dost thou think,

If I would stand against thee, would the reposal

Of any trust, virtue, or worth in thee

Make thy words faith'd? No: what I should deny, — 70

As this I would ; ay, though thou didst produce

My very character, — I 'Id turn it all

To thy suggestion, plot, and damn'd practice:

And thou must make a dullard of the world.

If they not thought the profits of my death

Were very pregnant and potential spurs

To make thee seek it.'

Glou. Strong and fasten'd villain !

Would he deny his letter? I never got him. [Tucket within.
Hark, the duke's trumpets! I know not why he comes.
All ports I'll bar; the villain shall not 'scape; 80

The duke must grant me that: besides, his picture
I will send far and near, that all the kingdom
May have due note of him ; and of my land,
Loyal and natural boy, I '11 work the means
To make thee capable.

E7iter Cornwall, Regan, mid Attendants

Corn. How now, my noble friend! since I came hither,
Which I can call but now, I have heard strange news.

Reg. If it be true, all vengeance comes too short
Which can pursue the offender. How dost, my lord?

Glou. O, madam, my old heart is crack'd, is crack'd! 90

Reg. What, did my father's godson seek your life?
He whom my friend named? your Edgar?

Glou. O, lady, lady, shame would have it hid!

Reg. Was he not companion with the riotous knights
That tend upon my father?

Glou. I know not, madam : 't is too bad, too bad.

Scene i.] KING I.EAR 6i

Edm. Yes, madam, he was of that consort.

Rig. No marvel, then, though he were ill affected :
'T is they have put him on the old man's death,
To have the expense and waste of his revenues. loo

I have this present evening from my sister
Been well inform'd of them ; and with such cautions,
That if they come to sojourn at my house,
I '11 not be there.

Corn. Nor I, assure thee, Regan.

Edmund, I hear that you have shown your father
A child-like oflice.

Edm. 'T was my duty, sir.

GloH. He did bewray his practice; and received
This hurt you see, striving to apprehend him.

Corn. Is he pursued?

Glou. Ay, my good lord.

Corn. If he be taken, he shall never more no

Be fcar'd of doing harm : make your own purpose.
How in my strength you please. For you, Edmund,
Whose virtue and obedience doth this instant
So much commend itself, you shall be ours:
Natures of such deep trust we shall much need;
You we first seize on.

Edm. I shall serve you, sir.

Truly, however else.

Glou. For him I thank your grace.

Corn. You know not why we came to visit you, —

Reg. Thus out of season, threading dark-eyed night :
Occasions, noble Gloucester, of some poise, 120

Wherein we must have use of your advice:
Our lather he hath writ, so hath our sister.
Of differences, which I least thought it fit
To answer from our home; the several messengers
From hence attend dispatch. Our good old friend,
Lay comforts to your bosom; and bestow

62 KING LEAR [Act II.

Your needful counsel to our business,
Which cTraves the instant use.

Glou. I serve you, madam :

Your graces are right welcome. \Exeunt.

Scene II. Before Gloucester's castle
Enter Kent a)id Oswald, severally

Osw. Good dawning to thee, friend: art of this house?

Kent. Ay.

Osw. Where may we set our horses?

Ke7it. V the mire.

Osw. Prithee, if thou lovest me, tell me.

Kent. I love thee not.

Osw. Why, then, I care not for thee.

Kent. If I had thee in Lipsbury pinfold. I would make
thee care for me.

Osw. Why dost thou use me thus? I know thee not. lo

Kent. Fellow, I know thee.

Osw. What dost thou know me for?

Kent. A knave; a rascal; an eater of broken meats; a
base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three - suited, hundred-
pound, filthy, worsted - stocking knave; a lily-livered,
action -taking knave; a glass - gazing, super - serviceable,
finical rogue; one- trunk -inheriting slave; one that art
nothing but the composition of a knave, beggar, coward,
pandar, and the son and heir of a mongrel bitch : one whom
I will beat into clamorous whining, if thou deniest the
least syllable of thy addition. 21

Os7v. Why, what a monstrous fellow art thou, thus to
rail on one that is neither known of thee nor knows thee!

Kent. What a brazen-faced varlet art thou, to deny thou
knowest me! Is it two days ago since I tripped up thy
heels, and beat thee before the king? Draw, you rogue:

Scene 2.] KING LEAR 63

for, though it be night, yet the moon shines; I'll make a
sop o' the moonshine of you: draw, you cullionly barber-
monger, draw. [Drawing his sword.

Osw. Away ! I have nothing to do with thee. 30

A'enf. Draw, you rascal: you come with letters against
the king; and take vanity the puppet's part against the
royalty of her father : draw, you rogue, or I '11 so car-
bonado your shanks: draw, you rascal; come your ways.

Osw. Help, hoi murder! help!

A'enf. Strike, you slave; stand, rogue, stand; you neat
slave, strike. \B eating him.

Os-w. Help, ho! murder! murder!

Enter Edmund, with his rapier dratun, Cornwall,
Reg.\n, Gloucester, and Servants

Edm. How now! What 's the matter?

Kent. With you, goodman boy, an you please: come,
I'll flesh ye; come on, young master. 41

Giou. Weapons! arms! What 's the matter here?

Corn. Keep i)eace, upon your lives :
He dies that strikes again. What is the matter?

Reg. The messengers from our sisters and the king.

Corn. What is your difference? speak.

Ostu. I am scarce in breath, my lord.

Kent. No marvel, you have so bestirred your valour.
You cowardly rascal, nature disclaims in thee: a tailor
made thee. 5°

Corn. Thou art a strange fellow: a tailor make a man?

Kent. Ay, a tailor, sir: a stone-cutter or a painter could
not have made him so ill, though he had been but two
hours at the trade.

Corn. Speak yet, how grew your quarrel?

Osiv. This ancient ruffian, sir, whose life I have spared
at suit of his gray beard, —

Kent. Thou zed! thou unnecessary letter! My lord, if

64 KING LEAR [Act II.

you will give me leave, I will tread this unbolted villain
into mortar, and daub the walls with him. Spare my gray
beard, you wagtail? 6i

Cor7i. Peace, sirrah!
You beastly knave, know you no reverence?

Kent. Yes, sir; but anger hath a privilege.

Corn. Why art thou angry?

Kent. That such a slave as this should wear a sword,
Who wears no honesty. Such smiling rogues as these,
Like rats, oft bite the holy cords a-twain
Which are too intrinse t' unloose; smooth every passion
That in the natures of their lords rebel; 70

Bring oil to fire, snow to their colder moods;
Renege, affirm, and turn their halcyon beaks
With every gale and vary of their masters,
Knowing nought, like dogs, but following.
A plague upon your epileptic visage!
Smile you my speeches, as I were a fool?
Goose, if I had you upon Sarum plain,
I 'Id drive ye cackling home to Camelot.

Corn. What, art thou mad, old fellow?

Glou. How fell you out? say that. 80

Kent. No contraries hold more antipathy
Than I and such a knave.

Corn. Why dost thou call him knave? What 's his
offence?

Kerit. His countenance likes me not.

Corti. No more, perchance, does mine, nor his, nor hers.

Kent. Sir, 'tis my occupation to be plain:
I have seen better faces in my time
Than stands on any shoulder that I see
Before me at this instant.

Corn. This is some fellow.

Who, having been praised for bluntness, doth affect 90

A saucy roughness, and constrains the garb

Scene 2.] KING LEAR 65

Quite from his nature: he cannot flatter, he,

An honest mind and plain, he must speak truth!

An they will take it, so; if not, he's plain.

These kind of knaves I know, which in this plainness

Harbour more craft and more corrupter ends

Than twenty silly ducking observants

That stretch their duties nicely.

Kent. Sir, in good sooth, in sincere verity,
Under the allowance of your great aspect, 100

Whose influence, like the wreath of radiant fire
On flickering Phoebus' front, —

Corn. What mean'st by this?

Kent. To go out of my dialect, which you discommend
so much. I know, sir, I am no flatterer: he that beguiled
you in a plain accent was a plain knave; which for my
part I will not be, though I should win your displeasure
to entreat me to 't.

Corn. What was the offence you gave him?

Os'iV. I never gave him any:
It pleased the king his master very late no

To strike at me, upon his misconstruction;
When he, conjunct, and flattering his displeasure,
Tripp'd me behind; being down, insulted, rail'd,
And put upon him such a deal of man.
That worthied him, got praises of the king
For him attempting who was self-subdued;
And, in the fleshment of this dread exploit.
Drew on me here again.

J^cnt. None of these rogues and cowards

But Ajax is their fool.

Corn. Fetch forth the stocks !

You stubborn ancient knave, you reverent braggart, 120

We '11 teach you —

Kent. Sir, I am too old to learn:

Call not your stocks for me: I serve the king;

(H906) £

66 KING LEAR [Act II.

On whose employment I was sent to you:
You shall do small respect, show too bold malice
Against the grace and person of my master,
Stocking his messenger.

Corn. Fetch forth the stocks! As I have life and
honour,
There shall he sit till noon.

Reg. Till noon! till night, my lord; and all night too.

Kent. Why, madam, if I were your father's dog, 130

You should not use me so.

Reg. Sir, being his knave, I will.

Corn. This is a fellow of the self-same colour
Our sister speaks of. Come, bring away the stocks!

\Stocks b7-onght out.

G/ou. Let me beseech your grace not to do so:
His fault is much, and the good king his master
Will check him for't: your purposed low correction
Is such as basest and contemned'st wretches
For pilferings and most common trespasses
Are puni-sh'd with: the king must take it ill,
That he, so slightly valued in his messenger, 140

Should have him thus restrain'd.

Corn. I '11 answer that.

Reg. My sister may receive it much more worse,
To have her gentleman abused, assaulted,
For following her affairs. Put in his legs.

[ Kent is put in the stocks.
Come, my good lord, away.

\^Exeunt ail but Gloucester and Kent.

Glou. I am sorry for thee, friend; 't is the duke's pleasure,
Whose disposition, all the world well knows.
Will not be rubb'd nor stopp'd : I '11 entreat for thee.

Kent. Pray, do not, sir: I have watched and travell'd
hard ;
Some time I shall sleep out, the rest I '11 whistle. 150

Scenes-] KING LEAR 67

A good man's fortune may grow out at heels:
Give you good morrow !

Glou. The duke's to blame in this; 'twill be ill-taken.

{Exit.

Kent. Good king, that must approve the common saw,
Thou out of heaven's benediction comest
To the warm sun !

Approach, thou beacon to this under globe,
That by thy comfortable beams I may
Peruse this letter! Nothing almost sees miracles
But misery: I know 'tis from Cordelia, 160

Who hath most fortunately been inform'd
Of my obscured course; and shall find time
From this enormous state, seeking to give
Losses their remedies. All weary and o'er-watch'd.
Take vantage, heavy eyes, not to behold
This shameful lodging.
Fortune, good night: smile once more; turn thy wheel!

\Sleeps.

Scene III. A wood

Enter Edgar

Edg. I heard myself proclaim'd;
And by the happy hollow of a tree
Escaped the hunt. No port is free; no place,
That guard, and most unusual vigilance.
Does not attend my taking. Whiles I may 'scape,
I will preserve myself: and am bethought
To take the basest and most poorest shape
That ever penury, in contempt of man,
Brought near to beast: my face I '11 grime with filth;
Blanket my loins; elf all my hair in knots; 10

And with presented nakedness out-face
The winds and persecutions of the sky.

68 KING LEAR [Act II.

The country gives me proof and precedent

Of Bedlam beggars, who, with roaring voices.

Strike in their numb'd and mortified bare arms

Pins, wooden pricks, nails, sprigs of rosemary;

And with this horrible object, from low farms,

Poor pelting villages, sheep-cotes, and mills,

Sometime with lunatic bans, sometime with prayers,

Enforce their charity. Poor Turlygod! poor Tom! 20

That's something yet: Edgar I nothing am. [ExiV.

Scene IV. Before Gloucester's castle. Kent
in the stocks

E7iter Lear, Fool, a7id Gentleman

Lear. 'T is strange that they should so depart from home.
And not send back my messenger.

Gent. As I learn'd.

The night before there was no purpose in them
Of this remove.

Kent. Hail to thee, noble master!

Lear. Ha!
Makest thou this shame thy pastime?

Kent. No, my lord.

Fool. Ha, ha! he wears cruel garters. Horses are tied
by the heads, dogs and bears by the neck, monkeys by the
loins, and men by the legs: when a man's over-lusty at
legs, then he wears wooden nether-stocks. 10

L^ear. What 's he that hath so much thy place mistook
To set thee here?

Kent. It is both he and she;

Your son and daughter.

Lear. No.

Kent. Yes.

Lear. No, I say.

Kent. I say, yea.

Scene 4.] KING LEAR 69

Liar. No, no, they would not.

Kent. Yes, they have.

Lear. By Jupiter, I swear, no. 20

Kent. By Juno, I swear, ay.

Lear. They durst not do 't ;

They could not, would not do't; 'tis worse than murder,
To do upon'respect such violent outrage:
Resolve me, with all modest haste, which way
Thou mightst deserve, or they impose, this usage,
Coming from us.

Kent. My lord, when at their home

I did commend your highness' letters to them,
Ere I was risen from the place that show'd
My duty kneeling, came there a reeking post,
Stew'd in his haste, half breathless, panting forth 30

From Goneril his mistress salutations;
Deliver'd letters, spite of intermission,
Which presently they read: on whose contents.
They summon'd up their meiny, straight took horse;
Commanded me to follow, and attend
The leisure of their answer; gave me cold looks:
And meeting here the other messenger,
Whose welcome, I perceived, had poison'd mine, —
Being the very fellow that of late

Display'd so saucily against your highness, — 40

Having more man than wit about me, drew:
He raised the house with loud and coward cries.
Your son and daughter found this trespass worth
The shame which here it suffers.

Fool. Winter's not gone yet, if the wild-geese fly that
way.

Fathers that wear rags

Do make their children blind;
But fathers that bear bags

Shall see their children kind. 50

70 KING LEAR [Act II.

But, for all this, thou shalt have as many dolours for thy
daughters as thou canst tell in a year.

Lear. O, how this mother swells up toward my heart!
Hysterica passio, down, thou climbing sorrow,
Thy element's below! Where is this daughter?
7^1?;^/. With the earl, sir, here within.
Lear. Follow me not;

Stay here. \Exit.

Gent. Made you no more offence but what you speak of.''
Kent. None.
How chance the king comes with so small a train? 60

Fool. An thou hadst been set i' the stocks for that
question, thou hadst well deserved it.
Kent. Why, fool?

Fool. We'll set thee to school to an ant, to teach thee
there's no labouring i' the winter. All that follow their
noses are led by their eyes but blind men ; and there 's not
a nose among twenty but can smell him that's stinking.
Let go thy hold when a great wheel runs down a hill, lest
it break thy neck with following it; but the great one
that goes up the hill, let him draw thee after. When a
wise man gives thee better counsel, give me mine again:
I would have none but knaves follow it, since a fool gives
it. 73

That sir which serves and seeks for gain.

And follows but for form.
Will pack when it begins to rain,

And leave thee in the storm.
But I will tarry; the fool will stay,

And let the wise man fly :
The knave turns fool that runs away; 80

The fool no knave, perdy.

Kent. Where learned you this, fool?
Luol. Not i' the stocks, fool.

--^ -

V

Scene 4-] KING LEAR 71

Re-enter Lear, %t<ith Gloucester

Lear. Deny to speak with me? They are sick? they
are weary?
They have travell'd all the night? Mere fetches;
The images of revolt and flying off.
Fetch me a better answer.

Glott. My dear lord,

You know the fiery quality of the duke;
How unremoveable and fi.xd he is
In his own course. 90

Lear. Vengeance! plague! death! confusion!
Fiery? what quality? Why, Gloucester, Gloucester,
I 'Id speak with the Duke of Cornwall and his wife.

Glou. Well, my good lord, I have inform'd them so.

Lear. Inform'd them! Dost thou understand me, man?

Glou. Ay, my good lord.

Lear. The king would speak with Cornwall; the dear
father
Would with his daughter speak, commands her service:
Are they inform'd of this? My breath and blood!
Fiery? the fiery duke? Tell the hot duke that — 100

No, but not yet: may be he is not well:
Infirmity doth still neglect all office
Whereto our health is bound; we are not ourselves
When nature, being oppress'd, commands the mind
To suffer with the body: I '11 forbear;
And am fall'n out with my more headier will.
To take the indisposed and sickly fit
For the sound man. Death on my state! wherefore

[^Lookiitg on Kent.
Should he sit here? This act persuades me
That this remotion of the duke and her no

Is practice only. Give me my servant forth.
Go tell the duke and 's wife I 'Id speak with them,

72 KING LEAR [Act II.

Now, presently, bid them come forth and hear me,
Or at their chamber-door I '11 beat the drum
Till it cry sleep to death.

Glou. I would have all well betwixt you. \Exit.

Lear. O me, my heart, my rising heart ! but, down !

Fool. Cry to it, nuncle, as the cockney did to the eels
when she put 'em i' the paste alive; she knapped 'em o'
the coxcombs with a stick, and cried ' Down, wantons,
down!' 'Twas her brother that, in pure kindness to his
horse, buttered his hay. 122

Enter Cornwall, Regan, Gloucester, and Servants

Lear. Good morrow to you both.

Corn. Hail to your grace !

^Kent is set at liberty.

Reg. I am glad to see your highness.

Lear. Regan, I think you are; I know what reason
I have to think so: if thou shouldst not be glad,
I would divorce me from thy mother's tomb.
Sepulchring an adultress. \To A'ent] O, are you free?
Some other time for that. Beloved Regan,
Thy sister's naught: O Regan, she hath tied 130

Sharp-tooth'd unkindness, like a vulture, here:

[Points to his heart.
I can scarce speak to thee; thou 'It not believe
With how depraved a quality — O Regan !

Reg. I pray you, sir, take patience: I have hope
You less know how to value her desert
Than she to scant her duty.

Lear. Say, how is that?

Reg. I cannot think my sister in the least
Would fail her obligation : if, sir, perchance
She have restrain'd the riots of your followers,
'Tis on such ground, and to such wholesome end, 140

As clears her from all blame.

Scene 4.] KING LEAR 73

Lear. My curses on her!

Reg. O, sir, you are old;

Nature in you stands on the very verge
Of her confine: you should be ruled and led
By some discretion, that discerns your state
Better than you yourself. Therefore, I pray you,
That to our sister you do make return;
Say you have wrong'd her, sir.

Lear. Ask her forgiveness?

Do you but mark how this becomes the house:
'Dear daughter, I confess that I am old; [Kneeling. 150
Age is unnecessary: on my knees I beg
That you '11 vouchsafe me raiment, bed, and food '.

Keg. Good sir, no more; these are unsightly tricks:
Return you to my sister.

Lear. \^Kising'\ Never, Regan:

She hath abated me of half my train ;
Look'd black upon me; struck me with her tongue,
Most serpent-like, upon the very heart :
All the stored vengeances of heaven fall
On her ingrateful top ! Strike her young bones,
You taking airs, with lameness!

Corn. Fie, sir, fie! 160

Lear. You nimble lightnings, dart your blinding flames
Into her scornful eyes! Infect her beauty,
You fen-suck'd fogs, drawn by the powerful sun.
To fall and blast her pride!

Keg. O the blest gods' so will you wish on me.
When the rash mood is on.

Lear. No, Regan, thou shalt never have my curse:
Thy tender-hefted nature shall not give
Thee o'er to harshness: her eyes are fierce; but thine
Do comfort and not burn. 'T is not in thee 170

To grudge my pleasures, to cut off my train,
To bandy hasty words, to scant my sizes,

74 KING LEAR [Act II.

And in conclusion to oppose the bolt
Against my coming in : thou better know'st
The offices of nature, bond of childhood,
Effects of courtesy, dues of gratitude;
Thy half o' the kingdom hast thou not forgot,
Wherein I thee endow'd.

Reg. Good sir, to the purpose.

Lear. Who put my man i' the stocks? \Ti4cket zvithin.

Corn. What trumpet's that?

Heg. I know't, my sister's: this approves her letter, i8o
That she would soon be here.

Enter Oswald

Is your lady come?

Lear. This is a slave, whose easy-borrow'd pride
Dwells in the fickle grace of her he follows.
Out, varlet, from my sight!

Corn. What means your grace?

Lear. Who stock'd my servant? Regan, I have good hope
Thou didst not know on 't. Who comes here? O heavens,

Enter Goneril

If you do love old men, if your sweet sway

Allow obedience, if yourselves are old,

Make it your cause; send down, and take my part!

\To Gon.] Art not ashamed to look upon this beard? 190

O Regan, wilt thou take her by the hand?

Gon. Why not by the hand, sir? How have I offended?
All 's not offence that indiscretion finds
And dotage terms so.

Lear. O sides, you are too tough;

Will you yet hold? How came my man i' the stocks?

Corn. 1 set him there, sir: but his own disorders
Deserved much less advancement.

Lear. You I did you?

Scene 4.] KING LEAR 75.

/ic^i^. I pray you, father, being weak, seem so.
If, till the expiration of your month.

You will return and sojourn with my sister, 200

Dismissing half your train, come then to me:
I am now from home, and out of that provision
Which shall be needful for your entertainment.

I^nr. Return to her, and fifty men dismiss'd?
No, rather I abjure all roofs, and choose
To wage against the enmity o' the air;
To be a comrade with the wolf and owl, —
Necessity's sharp pinch! Return with her?
Why, the hot-blooded France, that dowerless took
Our youngest born, I could as well be brought 210

To knee his throne, and, squire-like, pension beg
To keep base life afoot. Return with her?
Persuade me rather to be slave and sumpter
To this detested groom. [Poififi'ng at Oswald.

Gon. At your choice, sir.

Lear. I prithee, daughter, do not make me mad:
1 will not trouble thee, my child; farewell:
We '11 no more meet, no more see one another :
But yet thou art my flesh, my blood, my daughter;
Or rather a disease that 's in my flesh,

Which I must needs call mine: thou art a boil, 220

A plague-sore, an embossed carbuncle.
In my corrupted blood. But I '11 not chide thee;
Let shame come when it will, I do not call it:
I do not bid the thunder-bearer shoot.
Nor tell tales of thee to high-judging Jove:
Mend when thou canst; be better at thy leisure:
I can be patient ; I can stay with Regan,
I and my hundred knights.

Reg. Not altogether so:

I look'd not for you yet, nor am provided
For your fit welcome. Give ear, sir, to my sister; 230

76 KING LEAR [Act II.

For those that mingle reason with your passion
Must be content to think you old, and so —
But she knows what she does.

Lear. Is this well spoken?

Reg. I dare avouch it, sir: what, fifty followers?
Is it not well? What should you need of more?
Yea, or so many, sith that both charge and danger
Speak 'gainst so great a number? How, in one house,
Should many people, under two commands.
Hold amity? 'Tis hard; almost impossible.

Gon. Why might not you, my lord, receive attendance
From those that she calls servants or from mine? 241

Reg. Why not, my lord? If then they chanced to slack
you.
We could control them. If you will come to me, —
For now I spy a danger, — I entreat you
To bring but five-and-twenty: to no more
Will I give place or notice.

Lear. I gave you all —

Reg. And in good time you gave it.

Lear. Made you my guardians, my depositaries.
But kept a reservation to be follow'd

With such a number. What, must I come to you 250

With five-and-twenty, Regan? said you so?

Reg. And speak 't again, my lord; no more with me.

Lear. Those wicked creatures yet do look well-favour'd.
When others are more wicked; not being the worst
Stands in some rank of praise. \To Gon.^ I 'II go with thee:
Thy fifty yet doth double five-and-twenty.
And thou art twice her love.

Gon. f^ Hear me, my lord:

What need you five-and-twenty, ten, or five.
To follow in a house where twice so many
Have a command to tend you?

Reg. What need one? 260

Scene 4] KING LEAR 77

Lear. O, reason not the need: our basest beggars
Are in the poorest thing superfluous:
Allow not nature more than nature needs,
Man's life 's as cheap as beast's: thou art a lady;
If only to go warm were gorgeous,
Why, nature needs not what thou gorgeous wear'st.
Which scarcely keeps thee warm. But, for true need, —
You heavens, give me that patience, patience I need! — »►
You see me here, you gods, a poor old man.
As full of grief as age; wretched in both! 270

If it be you that stirs these daughters' hearts
Against their father, fool me not so much
To bear it tamely ; touch me with noble anger,
And let not women's weapons, water-drops,
Stain my man's cheeks! No, you unnatural hags,
I will have such revenges on you both,
That all the world shall — I will do such things, —
What they are, yet I know not; but they shall be
The terrors of the earth. You think I '11 weep;
No, I '11 not weep : 280

I have full cause of weeping; but this heart
Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws.
Or ere I '11 weep. O fool, I shall go mad !

\Exeunt Lear, Gloucester, Kent, and Fool.

Storm and tempest.

Corn. Let us withdraw; 'twill be a storm.

Reg. This house is little : the old man and his people
Cannot be well bestow'd.

Gon. 'T is his own blame; hath put himself from rest,
And must needs taste his folly.

Reg. For his particular, I '11 receive him gladly,
But not one follower.

Gon. So am I purposed. 290

Where is my lord of Gloucester?

Corn. Follow'd the old man forth : he is return'd.

78 KING LEAR [Act III.

Re-e7iter Gloucester

GIou. The king is in high rage.

Corn. Whither is he going?

Glou. He calls to horse; but will I know not whither.

Cor7u 'Tis best to give him way; he leads himself.

Goft. My lord, entreat him by no means to stay.

Glou. Alack, the night conies on, and the bleak winds
Do sorely ruffle; for many miles about
There 's scarce a bush.

Reg. O, sir, to wilful men,

The injuries that they themselves procure 300

Must be their schoolmasters. Shut up your doors:
He is attended with a desperate train;
And what they may incense him to, being apt
To have his ear abused, wisdom bids fear.

Corn. Shut up your doors, my lord; 'tis a wild night:
My Regan counsels well: come out o' the storm.

\Exeu7it.

ACT III

Scene I. A heath

Stonn still. Enter Kent and a Gentleman, meeting

Kent. Who 's there, besides foul weather?

Gent. One minded like the weather, most unquietly.

Kent. I know you. Where's the king?

Gent. Contending with the fretful element;
Bids the wind blow the earth into the sea.
Or swell the curled waters '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;

Scene i.] KING LEAR .79

Strives in his little world of man to out-scorn lo

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?

Gent. 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 20

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 30

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; 40

And, from some knowledge and assurance, offer
This office to you.

8o KING LEAR [Act III.

Gefit. 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. 50

Gent. 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 'U this, — he that first lights on him
Holla the other. \Exmnt severally.

Scene II. Another part of tlie heath. Storm stih

Enter Lear and Fool

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, all germens spill at once.
That make ingrateful man! 9

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.

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,

Scene 2.] KING LEAR fel

You owe me no subscription : then let fall

Your horrible pleasure; here I stand, your slave,

A poor, infirm, weak, and despised old man : 20

But yet I call you servile ministers,

That have with two pernicious daughters join'd

Your high cngender'd battles 'gainst a head

So old and white as this. O ! O ! 't is foul !

Fool. He that has a house to put 's head in has a good
head-piece.

The man that makes his toe

What he his heart should make
Shall of a corn cry woe,

And turn his sleep to wake. 30

For there was never yet fair woman but she made mouths
in a glass.

Lear. No, I will be the pattern of all patience; I will
say nothing.

Enter Kent

Kent. Who's there?

Fool. Marry, here '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, 40

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.

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 theu, thou bloody hand;
Thou perjured, and thou simular man of virtue

(M90(i) j>

82 KING LEAR [Act III.

That are incestuous: caitiff, to pieces shake, 50

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, 60

Denied me to come in — return, and force
Their scanted courtesy.

Lear. My wits begin to turn.

Come on, my boy: how dost, my boy? art cold?
I am cold m)self. 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, — 70

Must make content with his fortunes fit,

>. For the rain it raineth every day.

Lear. True, my good boy. Come, bring us to this
hovel. \Exeutit Lear and Kent.

Fool. I '11 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; 80

When slanders do not live in tongues;

Scenes] KING LEAR 83

Nor cutpurses come not to throngs;

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. [£xi/.

Scene III. Gloucestet's castle

Enter Gloucester and Edmund

Glou. Alack, alack, Edmund, I like not this unnatural
dealing. When I desired 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.

Edm. Most savage and unnatural! 7

Glou. Go to; say you nothing. There's a division be-
twi.xt 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 per-
ceived: 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.

Edm. This courtesy, forbid thee, shall the duke 20

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.

%

84 KING LEAR [Act III.

Scene IV. The heath. Before a hovel

Enter Lear, Kent, ajid 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. \St0r7n still.

Lear. Let me alone.

Ke7tt. Good my lord, enter here.

Lear. Wilt break my heart?

Kent. I had rather break mine own. Good my lord,
enter.

Lear. Thou think'st 't is much that this contentious
storm
Invades us to the skin: so 'tis to thee;
But where the greater malady is fixed,
The lesser is scarce felt. Thou 'Idst shun a bear;
But if thy flight lay toward the raging sea, 10

Thou 'Idst 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, — 20

O, that way madness lies; let me shun that;
No more of that.

Kent. Good my lord, enter here.

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 '11 go in.

Scene 4] KING LEAR 85

[To the Fool'] In, boy; go first. Y'ou houseless poverty, —
Nay, get thee in. I '11 pray, and then 1 '11 sleep.

\Fool goes in.
Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are.
That bide the pelting of this i)itiless storm,
How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides, 30

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.

Edg. [ \Viihif{\ 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? 40

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 madman

Edg. Away! the foul fiend follows me!
Through the sharp hawthorn blows the cold wind.
Hum ! go to thy cold bed, and warm thee.

Lear. Hast thou given all to thy two daughters?
And art thou come to this? 47

Edg. Who gives any thing to poor Tom? whom the
foul fiend hath led through fire and through flame,
through ford and whirlipool, o'er bog and quagmire; that
hath laid knives under his pillow, and halters in his pew;
set ratsbane by his porridge; made him 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

86 KING LEAR [Act III.

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.

\Stnmi-slilL.

Lear. What, have his daughters brought him to this pass?
Couldst thou save nothing? Didst thou give them all? 60

Fool. Nay, he reserved a blanket, else we had been all
shamed,

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.

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 ! 't was this flesh begot yfs

Those pelican daughters.

Edg. Pillicock sat on Pillicock-hill:
Halloo, halloo, loo, loo!

Fool. This cold night will turn us all to fools and mad-
men.

Edg. 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.

Lear. What hast thou been? 80

Edg. A serving-man, proud in heart and mind; that
curled my hair; wore gloves in my cap; 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

Scene 4-1 KINO LEAR 87

heart to woman: keep thy pen from lenders' books, and
defy the foul fiend. 91

Still through the hawthorn blows the cold wind:

Says suum, mun, ha, no, nonny.

Dolphin my boy, my boy, sessa! let him trot by.

\Stor//i still.

Lear. ^Vhy, 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: un-
accommodated man is no more but such a poor, bare,
forked animal as thou art. Off, off, you lendings! come,
come, unbutton here. \Tearing of his clothes.

Fool. Prithee, nuncle, be contented; 'tis a naughty night
to swim in. Look, here comes a walking fire.*^

Enter Gloucester with a torch

Edg. This is the foul fiend Flibbertigibbet: he begins at
curfew, and walks till the first cock; he gives the web an^
the pin, squints the eye, and makes the hare-lip; mildews
TT^e white wheat, and hurts the poor creature of earth.

S^WithoNd footed thrice the old; 1 10

He met the night-mare, and Tier nine-fold ;

Bid her alight.

And her troth plight,
And, aroint thee, witch, aroint thee!

Kent. How fares your grace?
Lear. What's he?

Kent. Who's there? What is 't you seek?
(^/(7/^) What are you there ? Your names? 118

^^S'^\ Poor Tom; that eats the swimming frog, the toad,
the tadpole, the wall-newt and the water; that in the fury

88 KING LEAR [Act III.

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!

Glou. AVhat, hath your grace no better company? 130

Edg. The prince of darkness is a gentleman:
Modo he 's call'd, and Mahu.

Glou. Our flesh and blood is grown so vile, my lord,
That it doth hate what gets it.

Edg. Poor Tom 's a-cold.

Glou. 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, 140

And bring you where both fire and food is ready.

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.

Lear. I '11 talk a word with this same learned Theban.
What is your study?

Edg. How to prevent the fiend, and to kill vermin.

Lear. Let me ask you one word in private.

Ke7it. Importune him once more to go, my lord;
His wits begin to unsettle.

Glou. Canst thou blame him? \Storm still.

His daughters seek his death: ah, that good Kent! 151

He said it would be thus, poor banish'd man !
Thou say'st the king grows mad; I '11 tell thee, friend,

Scene 5.] KING LEAR 89

I am almost mad myself: I had a son,
; Now outla}j;jdJ"rom 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, —

Lear. O, cry you mercy, sir.

Noble philosopher, your company. 160

Ed^. Tom 's a-cold.

(^/ou.^ In, fellow, there, into the hovel: keep thee warm.

Zear. Come, let 's in all.

^enf. This way, my lord.

Lear. With him;

I will keep still with my philosopher.

Jienf. Good my lord, soothe him; let him take the fellow.

(p^/<?7^.) Take him you on.

/^e/it. Sirrah, come on; go along with us.

/.ear. Come, good Athenian.

G/ou. .No words, no words: hush.

£i/g: Child Rowland to the dark tower came, 1 170

His'worS'was' still, — Fie, foh, and fum,

I smell the blood of a British man. [jExeunf.

Scene V. Gloucester's castle

Enter Cornwall and Edmund

Corn. I will have my revenge ere I depart his house.

Edm. How, my lord, I may be censured, that nature
thus gives way to loyalty, something^Jears me to think of.

Corn. I now perceive it was not altogether your brother's
evil disposition made him seek his death; but a provo|v,iny
merit, set a-work by a reproveable badness in himself.

Edm. How malicious is my fortune, that I must repent
to be just ! This is the letter he spoke of, which approves

90 KING LEAR [Act III.

him an intelligent partj to the advantages of France. O
heavens ! that this treason were not, or not I the detector !

Corn. Go with me to the duchess. 1 1

Edm. If the matter of this paper be certain, you have
mighty business in hand.

Corn. 'I'rue or false, it hath made thee Earl of Glou-
cester. Seek out where thy father is, that he may be
ready for our apprehension.

Edm. [Aside] If I find him comforting the king, it will
stuff his suspicion more fuUy."^^^^^ will persevere in my
course of loyalty, though the conflict be sore between that
and my blood. 20

Corn. I will lay trust upon thee; and thou shalt find
a dearer father in my love. [Exeun/.

Scene VI. A chamber in a farmhouse adjoining

the castle

Enter Gloucester, Lear, Kent, Fool, and Edgar

Glou. Here is better than the open air; take it thank-
fully. 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.

Edg. 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? - -<ouco^^ 10

Lear. A king, a king!

Eool. 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.

Scene 6.] KING LEAR 91

Lear. To have a thousand with red burning spits
Come hissing in upon 'em, —

Edg. The foul fiend bites my back.

Fool. He's mad that trusts in the lameness of a wolf,
a horse's health, a boy's love.

Lear. It shall be done; I will arraign them straight 20
\To Edgar] Come, sit thou here, most learned justicer;
\To the Fool] Thou, sapient sir, sit here. Now, you she
foxes!

Edg. Look, where he stands and glares! Wantest thou
eyes at trial, madam?

Come o'er the bourn, Bess}', to me, —

Fool. Her boat hath a leak.

And she must not speak
Why she dares not come over to thee,

Edg. The foul fiend haunts poor Tom in the voice of a

nightingale. Hopdance cries in Tom's belly for two white

herring. Croa^ not, black angel; I have no food for

Ihee. 32

Ken^. How do you, sir? Stand you not so amazed :
Will you lie down and rest up>on the cushions?

Lear. I 11 see their trial first. Bring in the e\-idence.
[7b 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.

E^g. Let us deal justly. 40

Sleepest or wakest thou, jolly shepherd?

Tny sheep be in the com;
And for one blast of thy jT^in^kin mouth,

Thy sheep shall take no harm.

Pur! the cat is gray.

92 KING LEAR [Act III.

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?.
Lear. She cannot deny it. 50

Fool. Cry you mercy, I took you for a joint-stool.
Lear. And here 's anotlier, 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?
Edg. Bless thy five wits !

Ke7it. O pity ! Sir, where is the patience now,
That you so oft have boasted to retain?

Edg. [Aside] My tears begin to take his part so much,
They '11 mar my counterfeiting. 60

Lear. The little dogs and all,
Tray, Blanch, and Sweet-heart, see, they bark at me.

Edg. Tom will throw his head at them. Avaunt, you
curs!

Be thy mouth or black or white.
Tooth that poisons if it bite;
Mastiff, greyhound, mongrel grim,
Hound or spaniel, brach or lym.
Or bobtail tike or trundle-tail,
Tom will make them weep and wail: 70

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.

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. ~ 80

Scene 6.] KING LEAR 93

Kent. Now, good my lord, lie here and rest awhile.
Lear. Make no noise, make no noise; draw the curtains:
so, so, so. We '11 go to supper i' the morning. So, so, so.
Fool. And I '11 go to bed at noon. ^.c. . ' ^

Re-enter Gloucester Q

hUqu) Co\x\t. hither, friend: where is the king my master?

Kent. Here, sir; but trouble him not, his wits are gone.
^JojtJ 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: 91
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 sinews,
Which, if convenience will not allow,
Stand in hard cure. \To the Foot'] Come, help to bear

thy master:
Thou must not stay behind.
(Xjrloii. > Come, come, away. 100
[Exeunt all but Edgar.

Edg. 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'erskip,
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 1 Tom, away !

94 KING LEAR [Act III.

Mark the high noises, and thyself bewray. i lo

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. [jExtf.

Scene VII. Gloucester's castle

Enter Cornwall, Regan, Goneril, Edmund, and

Servants

Corn. 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.

Reg. Hang him instantly.

Gon. Pluck out his eyes.

Corn. 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. Fare-
well, dear sister : farewell, my lord of Gloucester. 1 2

Enter Oswald

How now! where 's the king?

Osw. My lord of Gloucester hath convey'd him hence :
Some five' or six and thirty of his knights,
Hot cTuestrists 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.

Corn. Get horses for your mistress.

Gon. Farewell, sweet lord, and sister. 20

Corn. Edmund, farewell.

\Exetint Go?ieril, Ed??iund, and Oswald.
Go seek the traitor Gloucester,

Scene 7.] KING LEAR 95

Pinion him liice a thief, bring him before us.

\Exeu7it 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

Reg. Ingrateful fox ! 't is he.

C^iUl. Bind fast his corky arms.

GloK. What mean your graces? Good my friends, con-
staer
You are my guests: do me no foul play, friends. 30

Corn. Bind him, I say. [^Sen'ants bind him.

E4g, Hard, hard. O filthy traitor!

\GIoip Unmerciful lady as you are, I 'm none.

Corn. To this chair bind him. Villain, thou shalt find —

. — ^ \_Regan plucks his beard.

(G/oih By the kind gods, 't is most ignobly done
TopTuck me by the beard.

■^ggi So white, and such a traitor!

^Jou) Naughty lady.

These hairs, which thou dost ravish from my chin,
Will quicken, and accuse thee: I am your host:
\\'ith robbers' hands my hQspitablg.iayours
You should not ruffle thus. What will you do? 40

Corn. Come, sir, what letters had you late from France?

Reg. Be simple answerer, for we know the truth.

Corn. And what confederacy have you with the traitors
Late footed in the kingdom?

Reg. To whose hands have you sent the lunatic king?
Speak.

H^j0t. I have a letter guessingly set down,
Which came from one that 's of a neutral heart,
And not from one opposed.

96 KING LEAR [Act III.

Corn. Cunning.

Reg. And false.

Cor7i. Where hast thou sent the king?
CGlou. To Dover. 50

Reg. Wherefore to Dover? Wast thou not charged at
peril —

Corn. Wherefore to Dover? Let him first answer that.
(trioii. I am tied to the stake, and I must stand the
course.

fieg. Wherefore to Dover, sir?
(GIoul Because I would not see thy cruel nails
Pluck out his poor old eyes; nor thy fierce sister
in his anointed flesh stick bearish 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: 60

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.

Cor7i. See 't shalt thou never. Fellows, hold the chair.
Upon these eyes of thine I '11 set my foot.

\Qloui He that will think to live till he be old,
Give me some help! O cruel! O you gods!

Reg. One side will mock another; the other too. 70

Corfi. If you see vengeance, —

First Serv. 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.

Reg. How now, you dog!

First Serv. If you did wear a beard upon your chin,
I 'd shake it on this quarrel. What do you mean?

Corn. My villain! \They drmv and fight.

Scene 7.] KING LEAR 97

First Serv. Nay, then, come on, and take the chance of
anger.

Reg. Give me thy sword. A peasant stand up thus !

\Takes a swonf, and nms at him behind.

First Sen'. O, I am slain! My lord, you have one eye

left 80

To see some mischief on him. O ! [Dies.

Com. Lest it see more, prevent it. Out, vile jelly!
^Vhfi^;e-is thy lustre now?

Gloti^ All dark and comfortless. Where 's my son
Edmund?
Edmund, enkindle all the sparks of nature.
To quit this horrid act.

Reg. Out, treacherous villain !

Thou call'st on him that hates thee: it was he
That made the overture of thy treasons to us;
W'haJs too good to pity thee.

(^loit.j O my follies! then Edgar was abused. 90

Kind gods, forgive me that, and prosper him !

Reg. 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?

Corn. 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 Cormvall led by Regan.

Sec. Serv. I '11 never care what wickedness I do,
If this man come to good.

Third Serv. If she live long.

And in the end meet the old course of death, 100

Women will all turn monsters.

Sec. Serv. Let 's follow the old earl, and get the Bedlam
To lead him where he would: his roguish madness
Allows itself to any thing.

(M906) Q

98 KING LEAR [Act IV.

Third Serv. Go thou: I '11 fetch some flax and whites of
eggs
To apply to his bleeding face. Now, heaven help him !

\Exeunt severally.

ACT IV

Scene I. The heath
Enter Edgar

Edg. Yet better thus, and known to be contemn'd,
Than still contemn'd and flatter'd. To be worst,
The lowest and most dejected thing of fortune,
Stands still in esperance, lives not in fear:
The lamentable change is from the best;
The worst returns to laughter. Welcome, then,
Thou unsubstantial air that I embrace !
The wretch that thou hast blown unto the worst
Owes nothing to thy blasts. But who comes here?

Enter Gloucester led by an Old Man

My father, poorly led? World, world, O world! lo

But that thy strange mutations make us hate thee,
Life would not yield to age.

Old Man. O, my good lord, I have been your tenant,
and your father's tenant, these fourscore years.

<(^^. Away, get thee away; good friend, be gone:
Thy comforts can do me no good at all;
Thee they may hurt.

Old Man. Alack, sir, you cannot see your way.

Glou. I have no way, and therefore want no eyes;
I stumbled when I saw: full oft 'tis seen, 20

Our means secure us, and our mere defects

Scene i.] KING LEAR 99-12.

Prove our commodities. O dear son Edgar,
The'food of thy abused father's wrath !
Might I but live to see thee in my touch,
I 'Id say I had eyes again !

Old Man. How now! Who's there?

Edg. [Aside] O gods! Who is't can say 'I am at the
worst ' ?
I am worse than e'er I was.

Old Man. 'T is poor mad Tom.

Edg. [Aside] And worse I may be yet: the worst is not
So long as we can say ' This is the worst '.

Old Man. Fellow, where goest?

(QipiiJ Is it a beggar-man? 30

Oid Man. Madman and beggar too.
('Glou.iHe has some reason, else he could not beg.
r the last night's storm I such a fellow saw;
\Vhich made me think a man a worm: my son
Came then into my mind; and yet my mind
Was then scarce friends with him: I have heard more

since.
As flies to wanton boys, are we to the gods;
They kill us for their sport.

Edg. [Aside] How should this be?

Bad is the trade that must play fool to sorrow,
Angering itself and others. — Bless thee, master! 40

(TpW Is that the naked fellow?

Old Man. Ay, my lord.

Gloti. Then, prithee, get thee gone: if, for my sake,
Thou wilt o'ertake us, hence a mile or twain,
r the way toward Dover, do it for ancient love;
And bring some covering for this naked soul,
Who I '11 entreat to lead me.

Old Man. Alack, sir, he is mad.

Glou. 'Tis the times' plague, when madmen lead the
blind.

loo KING LEAR [Act IV.

Do as I bid thee, or rather do thy pleasure;
Above the rest, be gone.

Old Man. I '11 bring him the best 'parel that I have, 50
Come on 't what will. \Exit.

Hzloji. Sirrah, naked fellow, —

Edg. Poor Tom's a-cold. [Aside] I cannot daub it
further.

G/ou. Come hither, fellow.

£dg. [Aside] And yet I must. — Bless thy sweet eyes,
they bleed.

G/ou. Know'st thou the way to Dover?

£dg. Both stile and gate, horse - way and foot - path.
Poor Tom hath been scared out of his good wits: bless
thee, good man's son, from the foul fiend! five fiends have
been in poor Tom at once; of lust, as Obidicut; Hobbidi-
dance, prince of dumbness; Mahu, of stealing; Modo, of
murder; Flibbertigibbet, of mopping and mowing, who
since possesses chambermaids and waiting-women. So,
bless thee, master. 64

,. G/ou. Here, take this purse, thou whom the heavens'
plagues
Have humbled to all strokes: that I am wretched
Makes thee the happier: heavens, deal so still!
Let the superfluous and lust-dieted man.
That slaves your ordinance, that will not see
Because he doth not feel, feel your power quickly; 70

So distribution should undo excess.
And each man have enough. Dost thou know Dover?

£dg. Ay, master.

G/ou. There is a cliff, whose high and bending head
Looks fearfully in the confined deep:
Bring me but to the very brim of it.
And I '11 repair the misery thou dost bear
With something rich about me : from that place
I shall no leading need.

Scene 2.] KING LEAR lor

Ed^. Give me thy arm :

Poor Tom shall lead thee. \Exeunt. 80

Scene II. Before the Duke of Albany's palace

Enter Goneril and Edmund

Gon. Welcome, my lord : I marvel our mild husband
Not met us on the way.

Enter Osw.\ld

Now, where 's your master?

Osw. Madam, within; but never man so changed.
I told him of the army that was landed;
He smiled at it: I told him you were coming;
His answer was 'The worse': of Gloucester's treachery
And of the loyal service of his son,
When I inform'd him, then he call'd me sot.
And told me I had turn'd the wrong side out :
What most he should dislike seems pleasant to him; 10

What like, offensive.

Gon. [To Edm.] Then shall you go no further.
It is the cowish terror of his spirit.
That dares not undertake: he '11 not feel wrongs
Which tie him to an answerT Our wishes on the way
May prove effects. Back, Edrnund, to my brother ;~'
Hasten his musters and conduct his powers:
I must change arms at home, and give the distaff
Into my husband's hands. This trusty servant
Shall pass between us: ere long you are like to hear,
If you dare venture in your own behalf, 20

A mistress's command. Wear this; spare speech;

[ Giving a favour.
Decline your head: this kiss, if it durst speak,
Would stretch thy spirits up into the air:
Conceive, and fare thee well.

102 KING LEAR [Act IV.

Edm. Yours in the ranks of death.

Gon. My most dear Gloucester!

\Exit Edmund.
O, the difference of man and man !
To thee a woman's services are due:
My fool usurps my body.

Osw, Madam, here comes my lord. \Exit,

Enter Albany

Gon. I have been worth the whistle.

Alb. O Goneril!

You are. not worth the dust which the rude wind 30

Blows in your face. I fear your disposition :
That nature, which contemns it origin,
Cannot be border'd certain in itself;
She that herself will sliver and disbranch
From her material sap, perforce must wither
I And come to deadly use.

Gon. No more; the text is foolish.

Alb. Wisdom and goodness to the vile seem vile:
Filths savour but themselves. What have you done?
Tigers, not daughters, what have you perform'd? 40

A father, and a gracious aged man,
Whose reverence even the head-lugg'd bear would lick,
Most barbarous, most degenerate! have you madded.
Could my good brother suffer you to do it?
A man, a prince, by him so benefited!
If that the heavens do not their visible spirits
Send quickly down to tame these vile offences,
It will come,

Humanity must perforce prey on itself,
Like monsters of the deep.

Gon. Milk-liver'd man ! 50

That bear'st a cheek for blows, a head for wrongs:
Who hast not in thy brows an eye discerning

Scene 2.] KING LEAR 103

Thine honour from thy suffering; that not know'st
Fools do those villains pity who are punish'd
Ere they have done their mischief. Where's thy drum?
France spreads his banners in our noiseless land,
With plumed helm thy state begins to threat;
Whiles thou, a moral fool, sit'st still, and criest
'Alack, why does he so?'

A/b. See thyself, devil!

Proper deformity seems not in the fiend 60

So horrid as in woman.

Gon. O vain fool!

Al/>. Thou changed and self-cover'd thing, for shame,
Be-monster not thy feature. Were 't my fitness
To let these hands obey my blood.
They are apt enough to dislocate and tear
Thy flesh and bones : howe'er thou art a fiend,
A woman's shape doth shield thee.

Gon. Marry, your manhood ! mew !

Enter a Messenger

AUk What news?

Mess. O, my good lord, the Duke of Cornwall 's dead ;
Slain by his servant, going to put out 71

The other eye of Gloucester.

Alb. Gloucester's eyes!

Mess. A servant that he bred, thrill'd with remorse,
Opposed against the act, bending his sword
To his great master; who, thereat enraged,
Flew on him, and amongst them fell'd him dead;
But not without that harmful stroke, which since
Hath pluck'd him after.

Alb. This shpws you are above,

You justicers, that these our nether crimes
So speedily can venge ! But, O poor Gloucester ! 80

Lost he his other eye?

104 KING LEAR [Act IV.

Mess. Both, both, my lord.

This letter, madam, craves a speedy answer;
'T is from your sister.

Gon. [Aside] One way I like this well;

But being widow, and my Gloucester with her,
May all the building in my fancy pluck
Upon my hateful life: another way,
The news is not so tart. — I '11 read, and answer. [£:xil

Alb. Where was his son when they did take his eyes?

Mess. Come with my lady hither.

^If^' He is not here.

Mess. No, my good lord; I met him back again. 90

Alb. Knows he the wickedness?

Mess. Ay, my good lord; 'twas he inform'd against him;
And quit the house on purpose, that their punishment
Might have the freer course.

Alb. Gloucester, I live

To thank thee for the love thou show'dst the king,
And to revenge thine eyes. Come hither, friend :
Tell me what more thou know'st. \Exeutit.

Scene III. The French camp near Dover
Enter Kent a7id a Gentleman

Kent. Why the King of France is so suddenly gone back
know you the reason?

Gent. Something he left imperfect in the state, which
since his coming forth is thought of; which imports to
the kingdom so much fear and danger, that his personal
return was most required and necessary.

Kejif. Who hath he left behind him general?

Gent. The Marshal of France, Monsieur La Far.

Kent. Did your letters pierce the queen to any demon-
stration of grief? 10

Gent. Ay, sir; she took them, read them in my presence;

Scene 3.] KING LEAR 105

And now and then an ample tear trill'd down
Her delicate cheek : it seem'd she was a queen
Over her passion ; who, most rebel-like,
Sought to be king o'er her.

Kent. O, then it moved her.

Gent, Not to a rage : patience and sorrow strove
Who should express her goodliest. You have seen
Sunshine and rain at once: her smiles and tears
Were like, a better way: those happy smilets
THaf~pTay'd on her ripe lip seem'd not to know 20

What guests were in her eyes; which parted thence,
As pearls from diamonds dropp'd. In brief.
Sorrow would be a rarity most beloved.
If all could so become it.

Kent. Made she no verbal question?

Gent. 'Faith, once or twice she heaved the name of
' father '
Pantingly forth, as if it press'd her heart;
Cried 'Sisters! sisters! Shame of ladies! sisters!
Kent! father! sisters! What, i' the storm? i' the night?
Let pity not be believed!' There she shook
The holy water from her heavenly eyes, ^ 30

Andjzlamour moisten'd: then away she started
To^deal with grief alone.

Kent. It is the' stars.

The stars above us, govern our conditions;
Else one self mate and mate could not beget
Such different issues. You spoke not with her since?

Gent. No.

Kent. Was this before the king return'd?

Gent. No, since.

Kent. Well, sir, the poor distress'd Lear's i' the town;
Who sometime, in his better tune, remembers
What we are come about, and by no means 40

Will yield to see his daughter.

io6 KING LEAR [Act IV.

Gent. Why, good sir?

Kent. A sovereign shame so elbows him: his own
unkindness, b(^5s,-o

That stripp'd her from his benediction, turn'd her
To foreign casualties, gave her dear rights
To his dog-hearted daughters, these things sting
His mind so venomously, that burning shame
Detains him from Cordelia.

Gent. Alack, poor gentleman !

Ke)it. Of Albany's and Cornwall's powers you heard not?

Gent. 'T is so, they are afoot.

Ketit. Well, sir, I '11 bring you to our master Lear, 50

And leave you to attend him : some dear cause
Will in concealment wrap me up awhile;
When I am known aright, you shall not grieve
Lending me this acquaintance. I pray you, go
Along with me. \Exeiint.

Scene IV. The same. A tent

Enter, with drum and colours, Cordelia, Doctor, and

Soldiers

Cor. Alack, 't is he: why, he was met even now
As mad as the vex'd sea; singing aloud;
Crown'd with rank fumiter and furrow-weeds.
With hor-docks, hemlock, nettles, cuckoo-flowers,
Darnel, and all the idle weeds that grow
Li our sustaining corn. A century send forth;
Search every acre in the high-grown field,
And bring him to our eye. [^Exit an Officer?^ What can

man's wisdom
Li the restoring his bereaved sense?
He that helps him take all my outward worth. 10

Doct. There is means, madam :
Our foster-nurse of nature is repose,

Scenes.] KING LEAR 107

The which he lacks; that to provoke in him,
Are many simj^es, operative, whose power
Will close the eye of anguish.

Cor. All blest secrets,

All you unpublish'd virtues of the earth,
Spring with my tears! be aidant and remediate
In the good man's distress! Seek, seek for him;
I^st his ungovern'd rage dissolve the life
That wants the means to lead it.

Enter a Messenger

Mess. News, madam; 20

The British powers are marching hitherward.

Cor. 'Tis known before; our preparation stands
In expectation of them. O dear father.
It is thy business that I go about;
Therefore great France

My mourning and important tears hath pitied.
No blown ambition doth our arms incite,
But love, dear love, and our aged father's right:
Soon may I hear and see him ! [Exeunt.

Scene V. Gloucester's castle

Enter Regan and Oswald

Res:^. But are my brother's powers set forth?
Os'w. Ay, madam.

Reg. Himself in person there?

Os'iv. Madam, with much ado:

Your sister is the better soldier.

Reg. Lord Edmund spake not with your lord at home?

Osw. No, madam.

Reg. What might import my sister's letter to him?

Osw. I know not, lady.

Reg. 'Faith, he is posted hence on serious matter.

io8 KING LEAR [Act IV.

It was great ignorance, Gloucester's eyes being out,

To let him live: where he arrives he moves lO

All hearts against us: Edmund, I think, is gone,

In pity of his misery, to dispatch

His nighted life; moreover, to descry

The strength o' the enemy.

Osw. I must needs after him, madam, with my letter.

Reg. Our troops set forth to-morrow: stay with us;
The ways are dangerous.

Osw. I may not, madam :

My lady charged my duty in this business.

Reg. Why should she write to Edmund? Might not you
Transport her purposes by word? Belike, 20

Something — I know not what : I '11 love thee much,
Let me unseal the letter.

Osw. Madam, I had rather —

Reg. I know your lady does not love her husband;
I am sure of that : and at her late being here
She gave strange oeillades and most speaking looks
To noble Edmund. I know you are of her bosom.

Osw. I, madam?

Reg. I speak in understanding; you are, I know't:
Therefore I do advise you, take this note:
My lord is dead; Edmund and I have talk'd; 30

And more convenient is he for my hand
Than for your lady's : you may gather more.
If you do find him, pray you, give him this;
And when your mistress hears thus much from you,
I pray, desire her call her wisdom to her.
So, fare you well.

If you do chance to hear of that blind traitor,
Preferment falls on him that cuts him off.

Ostv. Would I could meet him, madam! I should show
What party I do follow.

Reg. Fare thee well. \Exejmt. 40

Scene 6.] KING LEAR 109

Scene VI. Fields near Doz'er
Enter Gloucester, and Edgar dressed like a peasant

Glou. When shall we come to the top of that same hill?

Edg. You do climb up it now: look, how we labour.

Glou. Methinks the ground is even.

Edg. Horrible steep.

Hark, do you hear the sea?

Glou. No, truly.

Edg. Why, then, your other senses grow imperfect
By your eyes' anguish.

Glou. So may it be, indeed :

Methinks thy voice is alter'd; and thou speak'st
In better phrase and matter than thou didst.

Edg. You 're much deceived: in nothing am I changed
But in my garments.

Glou. Methinks you 're better spoken. 10

Edg. Come on, sir; here's the place: stand still. How
fearful
And dizzy 't is, to cast one's eyes so low !
The crows and choughs that wing the midway air
Show scarce so gross as beetles : half way down
Hangs one that gathers samphire, dreadful trade!
Methinks he seems no bigger than his head:
The fishermen that walk upon the beach
Appear like mice; and yond tall anchoring bark,
Diminish'd to her cock ; her cock, a buoy
Almost too small for sight: the murmuring surge, 20

That on the unnumber'd^idle pebbles chafes.
Cannot be he"ar3 .so high. I '11 look no more
Lest my brain turn, and the deficient sight
Topple down headlong.

Glou. Set me where you stand.

Edg. Give me your hand: you are now within a foot
Of the extreme verge : for all beneath the moon

no KING LEAR [Act IV.

Would I not leap upright.

Gloti. Let go my hand.

Here, friend, 's another purse; in it a jewel
Well worth a poor man's taking : fairies and gods
Prosper it with thee ! Go thou farther off; 30

Bid me farewell, and let me hear thee going.

Edg. Now fare you well, good sir.

Glou. With all my heart.

Edg. Why I do trifle thus with his despair
Is done to cure it.

Glou. \Kneeli7ig\ O you mighty gods!
This world I do renounce, and, in your sights,
Shake patiently my great affliction off:
If I could bear it longer, and not fall
To quarrel with your great opposeless wills,
My snuff and loathed part of nature should
Burn itself out. If Edgar live, O, bless him! 40

Now, fellow, fare thee well. \He falls forward.

Edg. Gone, sir: farewell.

And yet I know not how conceit may rob
The treasury of life, when life itself
Yields to the theft: had he been where he thought.
By this had thought been past. Alive or dead?
Ho, you sir! friend! Hear you, sir! speak!
Thus might he pass indeed : yet he revives.
What are you, sir?

Glou. Away, and let me die.

Edg. Hadst thou been aught but gossamer, feathers, air.
So many fathom down precipitating, 50

Thou 'dst shiver'd like an egg: but thou dost breathe;
Hast heavy substance; bleed'st not; speak'st; art sound.
Ten masts at each make not the altitude
Which thou hast perpendicularly fell:
Thy life 's a miracle. Speak yet again.

Glou. But have I fall'n, or no?

Scene 6.] KING LEAR in

Edg. From the dread summit of this chalky bourn.
Look up a-height ; the shrill-gorged lark so far ~

Cannot be seen or hear3":^o "But Took "up.

Glou. Alack, I have no eyes. 60

Is wretchedness deprived that benefit,
To end itself by death? 'T was yet some comfort,
When misery could beguile the tyrant's rage,
.'\nd frustrate his proud will.

Edg. Give me your arm:

Up: so. How is't? Feel you your legs? You stand.

Glou. Too well, too well.

Edg. This is above all strangeness.

Upon the crown o' the cliff, what thing was that
Which parted from you?

Glou. A poor unfortunate beggar.

Edg. As I stood here below, methought his eyes
Were two full moons ; he had a thousand noses, 70

Horns whelk'd and waved like the enridged sea:
It was some fiend; therefore, thou happy father,
Think that the clearest gods, who make them honours
Of men's impossibilities, have preserved thee.

Glou. I do remember now : henceforth I '11 bear
Affliction till it do cry out itself

' Enough, enough ', and die. That thing you speak of,
I took it for a man ; often 't would say
'The fiend, the fiend': he led me to that place.

Edg. Bear free and patient thoughts. But who comes
here? 80

Enter Lear, fantasfically dressed with wild flowers

The safer sense will ne'er accommodate
His master thus.

Lear. No, they cannot touch me for coining; I am the
king himself

Edg. O thou side-piercing sight !

112 KING LEAR [Act IV.

Lear. Nature 's above art in that respect. There 's your
press-money. That fellow handles his bow like a crow-
keeper: draw me a clothier's yard. Look, look, a mouse!
Peace, peace; this piece of toasted cheese will do't.
There's my gauntlet; I'll prove it on a giant. Bring
up the brown bills. O, well flown, bird! i' the clout,
i' the clout: hewgh! Give the word. 92

Ed}^. Sweet marjoram.

Lear. Pass.

Glou. I know that voice.

Lear. Ha! Goneril, with a white beard! They flat-
tered me like a dog; and told me I had white hairs in
my beard ere the black ones were there. To^say 'ay' and
'no' to every thing that I said! — 'Ay' and 'no' too was
no good divinity. When the rain came to wet me once,
and the wind to make me chatter; when the thunder
would not peace at my bidding; there I found 'em, there
I smelt 'em out. Go to, they are not men o' their words:
they told me I was every thing; 'tis a lie, I am not ague-
proof. 105

Glou. The trick of that voice I do well remember:
Is't not the king?

Lear. Ay, every inch a king:

When I do stare, see how the subject quakes.
I pardon that man's life. What was thy cause ?
Adultery? no

Thou shalt not die: die for adultery! No:
For Gloucester's bastard son
Was kinder to his father than my daughters.

Give me an ounce of civet, good apothecary, to sweeten
my imagination: there's money for thee.

Glou. O, let me kiss that hand !

Lear. Let me wipe it first; it smells of mortality.

Glou. O ruin'd piece of nature ! This great world
Shall so wear out to'hought. Dost thou know me? 119

Scene 6.] KING LEAR 113

Lear. I remember thine eyes well enough. Dost thou
S(iuiny at me? No, do thy worst, blind Cupid; I'll not
love. Read thou this challenge; mark but the penning
of it.

Gloit. Were all the letters suns, I could not see one.

Edg. I would not take this from report; it is,
And my heart breaks at it.

Lear. Read.

Glou. What, with the case of eyes?

Lear. O, ho, are you there with me? No eyes in your
head, nor no i 11 \^<\\\ |nirsc? Your eyes are in a

heavy case, your purse in a light: yet you see how this
world goes. 132

Glou. I see it feelingly.

L^ar. What, art mad? A man may see how this world
goes with no eyes. Look with thine ears: see how yond
justice rails upon yond simple thief Hark, in thine ear:
change places; and, handy-dandy, which is the justice,
which is the thief? Thou hast seen a farmer's dog bark
at a beggar?

Glou. Ay, sir. 140

L^ar. And the creature run from the cur? There thou
mightst behold the great image of authority: a dog's
^obe^'^d '" f^^r-f^ _— __— .

The usurer hangs the cozener.
Through tatter'd clothes small vices do appear;
Robes and furr'd gowns hide all. Plate sin with gold,
And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks;
Arm it in rags, a pigmy's straw does pierce it.
None does offend, none, I say, none; I'll able, 'em:
Take that of me, my friend, who have the power 150

To seal the accuser's lips. Get thee glass eyes;
And, like a scurvy politician, seem
To see the things thou dost not. Now, now, now, now:
Pull off my boots: harder, harder: so.

(H906) H

J

114

KING LEAR [Act IV.

Edg. O, matter and impertinency mix'd !
Reason in madness!

Lear. If thou wilt weep my fortunes, take my eyes.
I know thee well enough; thy name is Gloucester:
Thou must be patient; we came crying hither:
Thou know'st, the first time that we smell the air, i6o

We wawl and cry. I will preach to thee: mark.

Glou. Alack, alack the day ! '

Lear. When we are born, we cry that we are come
To this great stage of fools: this' a good block;
It were a delicate stratagem, to shoe
A troop of horse with felt : I '11 put 't in proof;
And when I have stol'n upon these sons-in-law
Then kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill!

Enter a Gentleman, with Attendants

Gent. O, here he is : lay hand upon him. Sir,
Your most dear daughter — 17°

Lear. No rescue? What, a prisoner? I am even
The natural fool of fortune. Use me well;
You shall have ransom. Let me have surgeons;
I am cut to the brains.

Gent. You shall have anything.

Lear. No seconds? all myself?
Why, this would make a man a man of salt,
To use his eyes for garden water-pots,
Ay, and laying autumn's dust.

Gefit. Good sir, —

Lear. I will die bravely, like a smug bridegroom.. What!
I will be jovial: come, come; I am a king, i8o

My masters, know you that.

Gent. You are a royal one, and we obey you.

Lear. Then there's life in 't. Nay, if you get it, you
shall get it with running. Sa, sa, sa, sa.

\Exit ritnuing; Attenda7its folloiv.

Scene 6.] KING LEAR 115

Gent. A sight most pitiful in the meanest wretch,
Past speaking of in a king! Thou hast one daughter,
Who redeems nature from the general curse
Which twain have brought her to.

Edg. Hail, gentle sir.

Gent. Sir, speed you: what's your will?

Edg. Do you hear aught, sir, of a battle toward? 190

Gent. Most sure and vulgar: every one hears that.
Which can distinguish sound.

Edg. But, by your favour.

How near's the other army?

Gent. Near and on speedy foot ; the main descry
Stands on the hourly thought.

Edg. I thank you, sir: that's all.

. Gent. Though that the queen on special cause is

here.
Her army is moved on.

Edg. I thank you, sir. \E.\it Gent.

Glou. You ever-gentle gods, take my breath from me;
Let not my worser spirit tempt me again
To die before you please !

Edg. Well pray you, father. 200

Ghu. Now, good sir, what are you?

Edg. A most poor man, made tame to fortune's blows;
Who, by the art of known and feeling sorrows,
Am pregnant to good pity. Give me your hand,
I '11 lead you to some biding.

Glou. Hearty thanks:

The bounty and the benison of heaven
To boot, and boot!

Enter Oswald

Osw. A proclaim'd prize! Most happy!

That eyeless head of thine was first framed flesh
To raise my fortunes. Thou old unhappy traitor,

Ii6 KING LEAR [Act IV.

Briefly thyself remember: the sword is out 210

That must destroy thee.

Glou. Now let thy friendly hand

Put strength enough to 't. \Edgar interposes.

Osw. Wherefore, bold peasant,

Barest thou support a publish'd traitor? Hence;
Lest that the infection of his fortune take
Like hold on thee. Let go his arm.

£dg. Chill not let go, zir, without vurther 'casion.

Osw. Let go, slave, or thou diest !

Edg. Good gentleman, go your gait, and let poor volk
pass.. An chud ha' bin zwaggered out of m.y life, 'twould
not ha' bin zo long as 'tis by a vortnight. Nay, come
not near th' old man; keep out, che vor ye, or ise try
whether your costard or my ballow be the harder: chill
be plain with you. 223

Osw. Out, dunghill!

Edg. Chill pick your teeth, zir: come; no matter vor
your foins. \They fight and Edgar knocks him down.

Osiv. Slave, thou hast slain me: villain, take my purse:
If ever thou wilt thrive, bury my body;
And give the letters which thou find'st about me
To Edmund earl of Gloucester; seek him out 230

Upon the British party: O, untimely death! \Dies.

Edg. I know thee well: a serviceable villain;
As duteous to the vices of thy mistress
As badness would desire.

Glou. What, is he dead?

Edg. Sit you down, father; rest you.
Let 's see these pockets : the letters that he speaks of
May be my friends. He's dead; I am only sorry
He had no other death's-man. Let us see:
Leave, gentle wax; and, manners, blame us not:
To know our enemies' minds, we 'Id rip their hearts; 240
Their papers, is more lawful.

Scene 7.] KING LEAR 117

[/?faJs] * Let our reciprocal vows be remembered. Vou
have many opportunities to cut him off: if your will want
not, time and place will be fruitfully offered. There is
nothing done, if he return the conqueror: then am I the
prisoner, and his bed my gaol; from the loathed warmth
whereof deliver me, and supply the place for your labour.

* Your — wife, so I would say —

* Affectionate servant, 249

' GONERIL.'

O undistinguish'd space of woman's will!

A plot upon her virtuous husband's life;

And the exchange my brother! Here, in the sands,

Thee I '11 rake up, the post unsanctified

Of murderous lechers : and in the mature time

With this ungracious paper strike the sight

Of the death-practised duke: for him 't is well

That of thy death and business I can tell.

G/oii. The king is mad: how stiff is my vile sense
That I stand up, and have ingenious feeling 260

Of my huge sorrows ! Better I were distract :
So should my thoughts be sever'd from my griefs,
And woes by wrong imaginations lose
The knowledge of themselves.

£i^g. Give me your hand : [^Drum afar off.

Far off, methinks, I hear the beaten drum:
Come, father, I 11 bestow you with a friend. \Exeunt.

Scene VII. A tent in t/ie French camp. Lear on a bed
asleep, soft music playing; Gentleman, afid others attending

Enter Cordeli.v, Kent, and Doctor

Cor. O thou good Kent, how shall I live and work,
To match thy goodness? My life will be too short,
And every measure fail me.

ii8 KING LEAR [Act IV.

Kejit. To be acknowledged, madam, is o'erpaid.
All my reports go with the modest truth;
Nor more nor clipp'd, but so.

Cor. Be better suited:

These weeds are memories of iKose^wofser hours:
I prithee, put them off.

Kent. Pardon me, dear madam;

Yet to be known shortens my made intent:
My boon I make it, that you know me not lo

Till time and I think meet.

Cor. Then be 't so, my good lord. \To the Doctor^ How
does the king?

Doct. Madam, sleeps still.

Cor. O you kind gods,
Cure this great breach in his abused nature !
The untuned and jarring senses, O, wind up
Of this child-changed father!

Doct. So please your majesty

That we may wake the king: he hath slept long.

Cor. Be govern'd by your knowledge, and proceed
r the sway of your own will. Is he array'd? 20

Gent. Ay, madam ; in the heaviness of his sleep
We put fresh garments on him.

Doct. Be by, good madam, when we do awake him
I doubt not of his temperance.

Cor. Very well.

Doct. Please you, draw near. Louder the music there!

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!

Koit. Kind and dear princess!

Cor. Had you not been their father, these white flakes
Had challenged pity of them. Was this a face 31

To be opposed against the warring winds?

Scene;.] KING LEAR 119

To stand against the deep dread-bolted thunder?

In the most terrible and nimble stroke

Of quick, cross lightning? to watch — poor perdu ! —

\V'ith this thin helm? Mine enemy's dog,

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! 40

'T is wonder that thy life and wits at once

Had not concluded all. He wakes; speak to him.

Dod. Madam, do you ; 't is fittest.

Cor. How does my royal lord? How fares your majesty?

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.

Cor. Sir, do you know me?

Lear. You are a spirit, I know: when did you die?

Cor. Still, still, far wide! 50

Doct. He's scarce awake: let him alone awhile.

Lear. Where have I been? \\'herc am I? Fair day-
light?
I am mightily abused. I should e'en die with pity,
To see another thus. I know not what to say.
I will not swear these are my hands: let's see;
I fuel this pin prick. Would I were assured
Of my condition !

Cor. O; look upon me, sir,

And hold your hands in benediction o'er me:
No, sir, you must not kneel.

Lear. Pray, do not mock me:

I am a very foolish fond old man, 60

Fourscore and upward, not an hour more nor less;
And, to deal plainly,
I fear I am not in my perfect mind.

I20 KING LEAR [Act IV. Sc. 7.

Methinks I should know you, and know this man;
Yet I am doubtful: for I am mainly ignorant
What place this is; and all the skill I have
Remembers not these garments; nor I know not
jL Where I did lodge last night. Do not laugh at me;
For, as I am a man, I think this lady
To be my child Cordelia.

Cor. And so I am, I am. 70

Lear. Be your tears wet? yes, 'faith. I pray, weep not:
If you have poison for me, I will drink it.
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.

Zear. Am I in France?

A'enf. In your own kingdom, sir.

Lear. Do not abuse me.

£)oc^. Be comforted, good madam : the great rage,
You see, is kill'd in him: and yet it is danger
To make him even o'er the time he has lost. 80

Desire him to go in; trouble him no more
Till further settling.

Cor. Will't please your highness, walk?

Lear. You must bear with me:

Pray you now, forget and forgive: I am old and foolish.

[Lxeu/// all but Kent and Gentleman.

Gent. Holds it true, sir, that the Duke of Cornwall was
so slain?

Kent. Most certain, sir.

Gent. Who is conductor of his people?

Kent. As 't is said, the bastard son of Gloucester.

Gent. They say Edgar, his banished son, is with the
Earl of Kent in Germany. 91

Kent. Report is changeable. 'Tis time to look about;
the powers of the kingdom approach apace.

Act V. Sc. I] KING LEAR i\q

.121

Gefi/. The arbitrement is like to be bloody. Fare you
well, sir. [£x//.

Kent. My point and period will be throughly wrought,
Or well or ill, as this day^ battle 's fought. \_Exit.

ACT V

Scene I. The British camp near Dover

Enter with drum and colours Edmund, Reg.an,
Gentlemen, and Soldiers

Edm. 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 constantpleaiure>

[ To a Gentleman, who goes out.

Reg. Our sister's man has certainly miscarried.

Edm. 'T is to be doubted, madam.

Reg. 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?

Edm. In honour'd love.

AVi,'-. But have you never found my brother's way lo

To the forfended place?

Edm. That thought abuses you.

Reg. I am doubtful that you have been conjunct
And bosom'd with her, as far as we call hers.

Elm. No, by mine honour, madam.

Reg. I never shall endure her: dear my lord,
Be not familiar with her.

Edm. Fear me not;

She and the duke her husband!

122 KING LEAR [Act V.

E?iier, with drum and colours, Albany, Goneril,
and Soldiers

Gon. \Aside\ I had rather lose the battle than that sister
Should loosen him and me.

Alb. Our very loving sister, well be-met. 20 #

Sir, this I hear; the king is come to his daughter,
With others whom the rigour of our state
Forced to cry out. Wjiere I could not be honest,
I never yet was valiant : for this business,
It toucheth us, as France invades our land,
Not holds the king, with others, whom, I fear,
Most just and heavy causes make oppose.

Edm. Sir, you speak nobly.

Reg. Why is this reason'd?

Gon. Combine together 'gainst the enemy;
For these domestic and particular broils 30 %

Are not the question here.

Alb. Let 's then determine

With the ancient of war on our proceedings.

Edm. I shall attend you presently at your tent.

Reg. Sister, you '11 go with us?

Go7i. No.

Reg. 'Tis most convenient ; pray you, go with us.

Gon. \_Aside'\ O, ho, I know the riddle. — I will go.

As they are going out, enter Edgar disguised

Edg. If e'er your grace had speech with man so poor,
Hear me one word.

Alb. I '11 overtake you. Speak.

\Exeunt all but Albany and Edgar.

Edg. Before you fight the battle, ope this letter. 40 ^

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

Scene i] KING LEAR 123

What is avouched there. If you miscarry,
Your business of the world hath so an end,
And machination ceases. Fortune love you!

Alb. Stay till I have read the letter.

Edg. I was forbid it.

When time shall serve, let but the herald cry,
And I '11 appear again.

Alb. Why, fare thee well: I will o'crlook thy paper. 50,,

\Exit Edgar.

Re-aiter Edmund

Edm. The enemy's in view; draw up your powers.
Here is the guess of their true strength and forces
By diligent discovery; but your haste
Is now urged on you.

Alb. We will greet the time. \Exit.

Edm. 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?
Both? one? or neither? Neither can be enjoy'd
If both remain alive: to take the widow
E.xasperates, makes mad her sister Goneril; 60

And hardly shall I carry out my side,
Her husband being alive. Now then we '11 use
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,
Shall never see his pardon; for my state
Stands on mc to defend, not to debate. [Exit.

124 KING LEAR [Act V.

Scene II. A field between the tzvo camps

Alarum ivithin. Enter, with drum and colours, Lear,
Cordelia, and Soldiers, over the stage; and exemit

Enter Edgar and Gloucester

Edg. 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 '11 bring you comfort.

Glou. Grace go with you, sir ! [Exit Edgar.

Alarum attd retreat within. Re-enter Edgar

Edg. Away, old man; give me thy hand; away!
King Lear hath lost, he and his daughter ta'en :
Give me thy hand; come on.

Glou. No farther, sir; a man may rot even here.

Edg. What, in ill thoughts again? Men must endure
Their going hence, even as their coming hither: lo

Ripeness is all: come on.

Glou. And that 's true too. {Exeunt.

Scene III. The British camp near Dover

Enter, in comjuest, luith drum and colours, Edmund;
Lear and Cordelia, prisoners; Captain, Soldiers, &'c.

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

Cor. "~ ^Ve 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?

Lear. No, no, no, no ! Come, let 's away to prison :

Scene 3.] KING LEAR 125

We two alone will sing like birds i' the cage:

When thou dost ask me blessing, I '11 kneel down, lo

And ask of thee forgiveness : so we '11 live.

And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh

At gilded buttertlies, and hear poor rogues

Talk of court news; and we'll talk with them too,

\\'ho 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 '11 wear out,

In a wall'd prison, packs and sects of great ones,

That ebb and flow"By "the moon.

Edm. Take them away.

Lear. Upon such sacrifices, my Cordelia, 20

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 '11 see 'em starve first.
Come. \Exeu)it Lear and Cordelia, guarded.

Edm. Come hither, captain ; hark.
Take thou this note [givi/ig a paper\; go- follow them to

prison : ^N.

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 30

Are as the time is: to be tender-minded
Does not become a sword: thy great employment
Will not bear question: either say thou 'It do 't,
Or thrive by other means.

Capt. I '11 do 't, my lord.

Edm. About it; and write ha[)py when thou hast done.
Mark, I say, instantly; and carry it so
As I have set it down.

Capt. I cannot draw a cart, nor eat dried oats;
If it be man's work, I '11 do 't. {Exit.

126 KING LEAR [Act V.

Flourish. Etiter Albany, Goneril, Regan, another
Captain, and Soldiers

All). Sir, you have shown to-day your valiant strain, 40
And fortune led you well: you have the captives
That were the opposites of this day's strife:
We do require theiu of you, so to use them
As we shall find their merits and our safety
May equally determine.

Edm. 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,
And turn our impress'd lances in our eyes 50

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.

All). Sir, by your patience,

I hold you but a subject of this war, 60

Not as a brother.

Reg. 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.

Gon. Not so hot:

Scenes] KING LEAR 127

In his own grace he doth exalt himself,
More than in your addition.

Heg. In my rights,

By me invested, he compeers the best.

Gon. That were the most, if he should husband you. 70

J^ej^. Jesters do oft prove prophets.

Go/i. Holla, holla!

That eye that told you so look'd but a-squint.

/ieg. Lady, I am not well; else I should answer
From a full-flowing stomach. General,
Take thoiFmy soTdierirP'^isoners, patrimony;
Dispose of them, of me; the walls are thine:
Witness the world, that I create thee here*
My lord and master.

Gofi. Mean you to enjoy him?

A/d. The let-alone lies not in your good will.

£dm. Nor in thine, lord.

A/d. Half-blooded fellow, yes. 80

J^ei^. [To Edmund\ Let the drum strike, and prove my
title thine.

Alb. 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;
'T is she is subcontracted to this lord.
And I, her husband, contradict your bans.
If you will marry, make your loves to me,
My lady is bespoke.

Gon. An interlude!

Alb. Thou art arm'd, Gloucester: let the trumpet sound:
If none appear to prove upon thy head 91

Thy heinous, manifest, and many treasons,
There is my pledge [thnnvins; do7vn a glove] ; I '11 prove it
on thy heart.

128 KING LEAR [Act V.

Ere I taste bread, thou art in nothing less
Than I have here proclaim'd thee.

J?e^i^. Sick, O, sick!

Go;/. [Aside] If not, I '11 ne'er trust medicine.

£d?n. 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 loo

My truth and honour firmly.

Alb. A herald, ho !

£dm. A herald, ho, a herald!

Alb. Trust to thy single virtue; for thy soldiers,
All levied in my name, have in my name
Took their discharge.

lieg. My sickness grows upon me.

Alb. She is not well; convey her to my tent.

[Exit Regan, led.
Etiter a Herald

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

Capt. Sound trumpet! [A trumpet sounds. 109

Her. [Reads] 'If any man of quality or degree within
the lists of the army will maintain upon Edmund, sup-
posed 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.'

Edni. Sound! [First trumpet.

Her. Again ! [Second trujtipet.

Her. Again ! [ Third trumpet.

[Tncmpet answers within.

Scene 3] KING LEAR 129

Enter Edgar, at the third sound, armed, unth a
trumpet before him

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

Her. ^Vhat are you?

Your name, your quality? and why you answer 120

This present summons?

Edg. Know, my name is lost;

By treason's tooth bare-gnawn and canker-bit:
Yet am 1 noble as the adversary
I come to cope.

Alb. Which is that adversary?

Edg. What's he that speaks for Edmund Earl of Glou-
cester?

Edm. Himself: what say'st thou to him?

Edg. 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, 130

Maugre thy strength, youth, place, and eminence,
Despite thy victor sword and fire_-newjbrtune.
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, 140

Thou liest.

Edm. 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,

IM906) "^""^ I

I30 KING LEAR [Act V.

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! 150

[A/arums. They fight. Edmund falls.

Alb. Save him, save him !

Gon. This is practice, Gloucester:

By the law of arms thou wast not bound to answer
An unknown opposite; thou art not vanc]uish'd.
But cozcn'd and beguiled.

Alb. 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 I lie letter to Edimind.

Gon. Say, if I do, the laws are mine, not thine: vv^ ■\ ^
Who can arraign mc for 't?

Alb. Most monstrous! oh!

Know'st thou this paper?

Gon. Ask me not what I know. \Exit.

Alb. Go after her: she's desperate; govern her. 161

Edm. What you have charged me with, that have I
done;
And more, much more; the time will bring it out:
'T is past, and so am I. But what art thou
That hast this fortune on me? If thou 'rt noble,
I do forgive thee.

Edg. 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 170

Scenes.] KING LEAR 131

Make instruments to plague us:

The dark and vicious place where thee he got

Cost him his eyes.

Edm. Thou hast spoken right, 't is true

The wheel is come full circle; I am here.

Alb. 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!

Edg. W'orthy prince, I know 't.

Alb. Where have you hid yourself?
How have you known the miseries of your father? 180

Edg. 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 disdained: and in this habit
Met I my father with his bleeding rings.
Their precious stones new lost; became his guide, "190"^

Led him, begg'd for him, saved him from despair;
Never,— O fault! — revoal'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.

Edm. This speech of yours hath moved me, ^3*^,

And shall perchance do good: but speak you on; 200

You look as you had something more to say.

Alb. If there be more, more woeful, hold it in ;

132 KING LEAR [Act V.

For I am almost ready to dissolve,
Hearing of this.

Edg. 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 210

Who 't was that so endured, with his strong arms
He fastened on my neck, and bellow'd out
As he -Id 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.

A /I). But who was this?

Edg. Kent, sir, the banish'd Kent; who in disguise
Follow'd his enemy king, and did him service 220

Improper for a slave.

Efiter a Gentleman, with a bloody knife

Gent. Help, help, O, help!

Edg. What kind of help?

A/i). Speak, man.

Edg. What means that bloody knife?

Gefit. 'T is hot, it smokes;

It came even from the heart of — O, she 's dead I

Alb. Who dead? speak, man.

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

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

Edg. Here comes Kent.

2__ 4^ i^ iUAjoJ^'^jiil^ n>^

i >

Scene 3.] KING LEAR 133

Alb. Produce their bodies, be they alive or dead: 230
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?

Alb. 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?

Edm. Yet Edmund was beloved:

The one the other poison'd for my sake, 240

And after slew herself.

Alb. Even so. Cover their faces.

Edm. 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.

Alb. Run, run, O, run!

ii^V- To who, my lord? Who hath the office? send
Thy token of reprieve.

Edm. WfU thought on: take my sword, 250

Give it the captain.

Alb. Haste thee for thy life. {Exit Edgar.

Edm. 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.

134

KING LEAR

[Act V.

Alb. The gods defend her!

Bear him hence awhile.

\Edmund is borne off.

are men of

\

Re-enter Lear, with Cordelia dead in his arms ;
Edgar, Captain, and others folloiving

Lear. Howl, howl, howl, howl! O, you
stones :
Had I your tongues and eyes, I 'Id use them so
That heaven's vault should crack. She 's gone for ever!
I know when one is dead, and when one lives; 260

She's dead as earth. Lend me a looking-glass;
If that her breath will mist or stain the stone.
Why, then she lives.

Ketit. Is this the promised end?

Edg. Or image of that horror?" !/'-■

Alb. Fall, and cease!

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!

Lear. Prithee, away.

Edg. 'T is noble Kent, your friend.

Lear. A plague upon you, murderers, traitors all!
I might have saved her; now she's gone for ever! 270

Cordelia, Cordelia! stay a little. Ha!
What is't thou say'st? Her voice was ever soft,
Centle, and low, an excellent thing in woman.
I kill'd the slave that was a-hanging thee.

Capt. 'T is true, my lords, he did.

Lear. Did I not, fellow?

I have seen the day, with my good biting falchion
I would have n)ade them skip : I am old now.
And these same crosses spoil me. Who are you?
Mine eyes are not o' the best! I '11 tell you straight.

Kent. If fortune brag of two she loved and hated, 280

,' ^

■<'>''

Scenes] KING LEAR 135

One of them we behold.

Lear. This is a dull sight. Are you not Kent?

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, —

Lear. I '11 see that straight.

Kent. That, from jour first of difference and decay,
Have followed your sad steps.

Lear. You are welcome hither.

Kent. Nor no man else: all's cheerless, dark, and deadly.
^'our eldest daughters have fordone themselves, 291

And desperately are dead.

Lear. Ay, so I think.

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

Edg. Very bootless.

Enter a Captain

Capt. Edmund is dead, my lord.

Alb. 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; 300

\\'ilh 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 !

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 'It come no more,

136 KING LEAR [Act V.

Never, never, never, never, never!

Pray you, undo this button: thank you, sir.

Do you see this? Look on her, look, her lips, 310

Look there, look there! [£>ies.

Edg. He faints ! My lord, my lord !

Ke7it. Break, heart; I prithee, break!

Edg. 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.

Edg. He is gone, indeed.

Kent, The wonder is, he hath endured so long:
He but usurp'd his life.

Alb. Bear them from hence. Our present business
Is general woe. \To Ke?it and Edgar] Friends of my

soul, you twain
Rule in this realm, and the gored state sustain. 320

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

Edg. 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 inarch.

II »

NOTES

Abbott Abbott's SAaAes/ean\tn Grammar.

Kelluer Kellner's HistorUal Outlines c/ English Syntax.

O. E OU English Anglo-Saxon).

M. E Middle English.

E. E Elizabethan English.

Mod. E Modem English.

Dramatis Personae. This list is not in the Quartos {1608)
or Folios (1623, ike). It was first g-iven by Kowe (1709).

The division into acts and scenes is not marked in the
Quartos.

Act I— Scene 1

The first scene of King Lear is of unusual importance. It
both enacts the events on which the whole play is founded
and brings out prominently the characters of all the principal
actors. As a general rule the first scene is confined to giving-
information necessary for the understanding of the story; or
it may, as in Macbeth, symbolize the drama. But in King Lear
we are introduced at once, without any preparation, to the
circumstance on which the story turns. The play as a whole
is the representation of the effects of its opening incidents.
Goethe considered this scene "irrational" in its want of
preparation.

I. affected, had affection for, favoured: the common mean-
ing in Shakespeare. Cf. Tivelfth Nigl{t, ii. 5. 28, "Maria
once told me she did affect me".

5. equalities are so weighed, &.c. ; their shares are so
balanced that close scrutiny will not show one to be better
than the other. For curiosity see Glossary.

10. brazed, hardenepli Cf. ' brazen-faced '.

12. proper, handsome: as frequently in E. E.

X3. some year, a ye*j^or so, about a year. See i. 2. 5.

24. deserving, i.e. to be better known by you.

137

;

138 KING LEAR [Act 1

25. out, abroad, in foreig-n lands. Cf. T-wo Gentlevien of
Verona, i. 3. 7, " Put forth their sons to seek preferment out".

29. our darker purpose, our more secret desigfn. Lear
makes a full statement of what is already known by Kent
and Gloucester.

31. fast intent, fixed intention: synonymous with 'constant
will ' in I. 36.

33-38. while we . . . now. Omitted in the Quartos.

46. challenge, claim as due: "where there are both the
claims of nature (i.e. of birth) and merit". Cf. iv. 7. 31.

48. wield the matter, express.

57. shadowy, shady.

62. self, i.e. same. This adjectival use of 'self, which is a
survival from O. E., was still common in Shakespeare's time.
Cf. iv. 3. 34.

64. names my very deed of love, states exactly my love,
expresses my love in very deed.

67. the most precious square of sense, the most exquisitely

sensitive part of our nature.

68. felicitate, made happy.

Reg-an's protestations are as forced as Goneril's. Her
stilted phraseology betokens her insincerity. It is in ominous
contrast to the simplicity of all that Cordelia can bring herself
to say.

71. more ponderous. So the Folios. The Quartos read
wore richer. The double comparative and superlative {e.g. 1.
210) were commonl}' used in E. E. to give emphasis.

74. validity, value, worth; not in the modern sense of 'good
title '.

76. Although the last, not least. This phrase occurs also
\n Julius CcEsar, iii. i. 189, " Thou<;h last, not least in love";
and there are several other instances of it in Elizabethan
literature.

The Folios read "Our last and least", which is preferred
by some editors; while the Quartos have "Although the last,
not least in our dear love", but omit from to whose young
love to interess'd. The usual reading of this passage is
therefore founded on both texts.

77. milk; referring to the rich pasture land of Burgundy.

78. interess'd. See Glossary.

83. Nothing will come of nothing. Cf. i. 4. 125, and the
p'overb, Ex niliilo nihil Jit

Scene i] NOTES 139

86. bond, bounden duty, obligation.

88. Good my lord, a common form of transposition when
the possessive is unt-niphatic. Cf. 1. 113 and iii. 2. 56. The
transposition occurs most commonly when the address begins
a sentence: contrast ii. 1. 109, iv. z. 70 and 90.

93. all, exclusively, only. So also 1. 97.

100. All that Cordelia says has the sincerity and abrupt
simplicity inevitable on being goaded to give expression to
feelings too heart-felt for words. It has been remarked by
some critics that Cordelia's conduct bears traces in its tactless
obstinacy of her father's headstrong nature. Coleridge, for
instance, says: " There is something of disgust at the ruthless
hypocrisy of her sisters, and some little faulty admixture of
pride and sullenness in Cordelia's 'Nothing'; and her tone
is well contrived, indeed, to lessen the glaring absurdity of
Lear's conduct ". But the prevailing note of her character
is simplicity and truth. She felt so deeply that she was un-
able to frame a formal statement of her love for her father,
and she was the less able to do so from her abhorrence of her
sisters' rank insincerity.

loi. Wounded vanity is the cause of Lear's anger. He had
already determined on a division of his kingdom among his
three daughters. He says definitely, on his very entrance,
" we have divided in three our kingdom ", and Kent and
Gloucester have already discussed two of the shares. But that
his vanity may be ministered unto he wishes to hear the pro-
fessions of his daughters' love. "The trial is but a trick, "
says Coleridge; "the grossness of the old king's rage is in
part the natural result of a silly trick suddenly and most un-
expectedly baffled and disappointed."

103. Hecate, the goddess in classical mythology of enchant-
ments and sorcery. In the Middle Ages she was regarded as
the queen of witches. Cf. Macbeth, ii. i. 52 and iii. 5. The
word is pronounced as a dissyllable in Shakespeare.

107. property, equivalent to 'identity'. Q^. proper, iv. 2. 60.

no. generation, generally said to mean 'offspring', as in
the phrase "generation of vipers", 5. Mat/hcTi.', iii. 7, &c. It
is plausibly suggested by Mr. \V. J. Craig, however, that gen-
eration may here mean ' parents ', as progeny does in Corio-
lantis, i. 8. 12. "Though Purchas in his Pilgrimes has a
curious passage mentioning different kinds of cannibalism, he
does not mention eating of children by their parents, nor do
I know any reference to it. On the other hand, Herodotus
tells us that the Scythians ate their aged and impotent rela-
tions, and Chapman in Byron's Tragedy, iv. i , has the following

140

KING LEAR [Act I

passag-e: 'to teach. . . . The Scythians to inter not eat their
parents '."

116, 117. to set my rest On her kind nursery. This appears
to have a double meaning-. 'To set one's rest' is a phrase used
in the g^ame of primero, meaning ' to stake all upon the cards
in one's hand ', and hence it came to mean gfenerally to stake
one's all. To set my rest on her kind mirsery Avould therefore
mean ' to rely absolutely on her care '. But it is probable
that Shakespeare had the simpler interpretation also in view,
viz. 'to find rest for my old ag-e with her'. There is a similar
usage in Romeo and Juliet, v. 3. no, "O here Will I set up my
everlasting rest"; and in this the phrase cannot well have the
first meaning exclusively.

117. nursery, nursing.

Hence, and avoid my sight! Addressed to Cordelia.

121. digest. See Glossary.

122. I.e. Let her pride find her a husband, as she won't have
a dowry to do so.

124. effects, signs, manifestations. Cf. ii. 4. 176.

S29. additions, titles, as commonly in Shakespeare. Cf. ii.
2. 21 and V. 3. 68.

136. make from, get out of the way of.

137. the fork, the barbed arrow-head.

138. "Almost the first burst of that noble tide of passion
which runs through the play is in the remonstrance of Kent
to his royal master on the injustice of his sentence against his
youngest daughter: ' Be Kent unmannerh', when Lear is mad !'
This "manly plainness, which draws down on him the displea-
sure of the unadvised king, is worthy of the fidelity with which
he adheres to his fallen fortunes " (Hazlitt).

142. Reverse thy doom is the reading of the Quartos; the
Folios have ' Reserve thy state .

144. answer my life my judgement, let my life answer for
my judgment.

152. blank, literally the white centre of a target.

154. swear'st, adjurest, swearest by. For the omission of
the preposition cf. ii. 2. 76, and see Abbott, § 200.

166. our potency made good, our royal authority being
maintained.

" Kent's opposition . . . displays Lear's moral incapability
of resigning the sovereign power in the very act of disposing
of it " (Coleridge).

Scene i] NOTES 141

168. diseases, discomforts, absence of ease.

178. approve, justify, confirm, as commonly in E. E. Cf.
ii. 2. 154, and ii. 4. 180.

182. Here 's France and Burgundy. For the common
Shakespearian use of a singular verb preceding- a plural sub-
ject, see Abbott, § 335.

184, 185. you who . . . Hath. A singular verb often follows
a relative whose antecedent is plural. Cf. stirs, ii. 4. 271, and
see Abbott, § 247.

190. so, i.e. 'dear', with the meaning ' of high price".

192. that little seeming substance. A difticult phrase.
Johnson lakes 'seeming' in the sense of 'beautiful', 'little
seeming ' being thus equivalent to ' ugly ' ; Steevens and
Schmidt give it the sense of ' specious ' ; while Wright under-
stands it to mean ' in appearance '. The second interpretation
is the best. There appears to be little point in " that substance
which is but little in appearance ", and Johnson's explanation
is forced.

194. like, please, as commonly in E. E. Cf. ii. 2. 84.

196. owes, possesses. See Glossary.

200. makes not up, does not decide. ' There is no choice
on such conditions.'

203. make such a stray, stray so far.

204. To match. For the omission of as, see Abbott, § 281,
and cf. 1. 2 1 1.

beseech, i.e. I beseech. "The Elizabethan authors
objected to scarcely .inv ellipsis, provided the deficiency could
be easily supplied from the context." See .\bbott, §§ 399-401.
Cf. ii. 4. 41 and v. i. 68.

209. argument, theme, subject; as commonly in E. E.

214. monsters it, makes it monstrous. A similar use
occurs in Coriolantts, ii. 2. 81, "idly sit To hear my nothings
monster'd ".

225. still-soliciting, ever-begging. Cf. i. 4. 322, ii. 4. 102,
and Tempest, i. 2. 229, "the still-vex'd Bermoothes".

233- regards, considerations. Cf. 1. 242.

234. the entire point, the sole consideration, the object of
pure love.

244, &c. France's tender declaration appears the more beau-
tiful by contrast with the prosaic selfish remarks of his rival,
who has amply merited Cordelia's " Peace be with Burgundy I"

252. waterish, well-watered: used in contempt.

142 KING LEAR [Act I

253. unprized, beyond price. " The suffix -ed in past parti-
ciples had in E. E. gone far to acquire the sense of ' what may
be done' in addition to that of ' what has been done'. For the
most part this hcighiened meaning; occurs in combination with
a negative prefix" (Herford). Cf. itntenfed, i. 4. 291; 7i}mum-
bered, iv. 6. 21; and Jindistinguish'd, iv. 6. 251. Unprized ma.y,
however, be used here in the simple sense of ' not prized '.

255. here . . . where, used as nouns.

262. Cordelia from the first has seen through her sisters'

t. deceit ; but pity for her father, despite the wrong he has done
her, at last forces her to speak plainly. Note how she has
gradually worked herself up to this declaration.

The jewels of our father, in apposition with 'you',
with wash'd eyes, i.e. with tears.

265» professed, full of professions. For this active sense of
the past participle, cf. better spoken, iv. 6. 10, and see Kellner,
§4o«.

268. prefer, recommend, direct: as commonly in Shakespeare.

270. As Hazlitt remarks, the true character of the two
eldest daughters, who have not spoken since the very begin-
ning of the love test, breaks out in Regan's answer to Cor-
delia, "their hatred of advice being in proportion to their
j determination to do wrong, and to their hypocritical preten-
I sions to do right". But most striking of all is Goneril's odious
' self- righteousness in telling her sister "You have obedience
scanted ".

272. At, used in statements of price or value: hence 'as an
alms of fortune'.

273. This line presents some diflicuUy. It is best rendered
thus, ' And well deserve that absence of affection from your
father which you have shown towards him '. It is possible,
however, to take ivant as referring specifically to the dowry,
and in this case, as Wright says, i/ic ivanf that you have wanted
would be an instance of a verb and its cognate accusative,

274. plaited. See Glossary.

277, &c. The closing dialogue of this scene shows Goneril
to be the stronger and more assertive of the two sisters. It
is she who broaches the discussion of their position, and de-
clares, when Regan purposes merely to "think" on their
policy, that the)- must strike while the iron is hot. But the
dialogue is also of considerable importance in the structure of
\ the play, as it serves to prepare us for Lear's fate. The very
' waywardness to which they owe their fortunes they make a
reason for their treacherous design to deprive him of authority.
Lear's faults, it appears, are not due to senility, though it has

Scene 2] NOTES 143

aggravated them, for he "hath ever but slenderly known him-
self", and "the best and soundest years of his life have been
but rash ".

Note the change from verse to prose. We pass with it from
the higher plane of passion to underhand scheming.

285. grossly, plainly, evidently.

290. long-engrafTed. See Glossary.

293. like, likely. Cf. iv. 2. 19.

298. offend. See Glossary.

Scene 2

In the second scene we turn to the minor web of the play,
the Gloucester story. It has already been indicated by the
opening conversation of the previous scene. This underplot
is in striking parallelism with the main story, and each in turn
acts as a foil to the other. See Introduction (4).

I. Thou, nature, art my goddess, as he is a natural son.

3. Stand in the plague of custom, be subject to the injustice
of custom.

4. curiosity, scruples. See Glossary.

6. Lag of, later than.

8. generous, used in the obsolete sense of 'gallant', 'noble',
' natural to one of noble birth or spirit'.

16. top the. The commonly accepted emendation of the old
reading to the. It is supported by several other passages in
Shakespeare, e.g. v. 3. J07.

19. subscribed, surrendered; literally 'signed away'. Cf.
subscription, iii. 2. 18.

20. exhibition, allowance. See Glossary.

21. Upon the gad, suddenly, as if pricked by a gad (i.e. a
goad). Cf. 'upon the spur of the moment'.

27. terrible, terrified.

40. policy and reverence of age, i.e. policy of reverencing
age. Cf. other inst.inces of this figure of speech — hendiadys
— in line 159, "image and horror", and i. 4. 333, "This milky
gentleness and course".

41. the best of our times, the best part of our lives, as in
i. I. 288 and i. 2. 104.

45. suffered, allowed, endured.

76. where, whereas, as commonly in Shakespeare.

144 KING LEAR [Act I

80. wrote. Cf. mistook, ii. 4. 11; fell, iv. 6. 54 ; and see
Abbott, §§ 343, 344.

81. pretence of danger, dang-erous intention. Cf. i. 4. 68.

90, 91. wind me into him, worm yourself into his confi-
dence. Me is an ethic dative. Cf. iv. 6. 88.

92. I would unstate myself, &c.; I should g^ive up my posi-
tion and dignity in order to be certain how matters stand.

94. convey, discharg-e, carry out ; commonly with a notion
of secrecy. See Glossary.

96. As Wright has pointed out, this passag"e ma)' have been
suggested by the eclipses of the sun and moon in September
and October, 1605. See Introduction, (2).

There is perhaps a reference to the Gunpowder Plot (5th
Nov. 1605) in the words "in palaces, treason" and "machi-
nations, hoUowness, treachery ".

97. though the wisdom of nature, &c. "Though natural
philosophy can give account of eclipses, yet we feel their con-
sequences" (Johnson).

101-106. This villain . . . graves. Omitted in the Quartos.

103. bias of nature, i.e. natural bias or inclination.

109. Gloucester's superstitiousness has made him an easy
prey to Edmund's cunning. His reference to the injustice done
to Kent gives point to the folly of his own credulity. Lear
was no more unjust to the "noble and true-hearted Kent" than
Gloucester himself is to Edgar.

no. foppery, folly, the original meaning oijop being' a 'fool'.
CL foppish, i. 4. 158.

115. spherical predominance, synonymous with "planetary
intluence ".

120. pat he comes like the catastrophe, &.c. An allusion
to the clumsy structure of the early comedies, in which the
conclusion seemed to come by chance at the very moment it
was wanted.

121, 122. Tom o' Bedlam. Seeii.3. 14. Thanks to Edmund's
treachery, Tom o' Bedlam is yet to be Edgar's cue.

129. succeed, ensue, turn out: used, like the noun 'success',
indifferently of good or bad consequences. Cf. "this g-ood
success ", v. 3. 194.

130-137. as of . . . Come, come. Omitted in the Folios.

133. diffidences, suspicions, distrust: now used only of dis-
trust of one's self.

134. dissipation of cohorts. Probably corrupt: the phrase
does not suit the context, and neither of the words occurs else-

Scene 4] NOTES 145

wlurc in Shakespeare. Of the emendations which have been
Miififeslcd, the best is 'disputation of consorts' (Craig).

136. a sectary astronomical, a devotee of astrolog-y.

147, 148. with the mischief . . . allay, would scarcely be
allayed even by doing harm to your person.

150 155. I pray you . . . Armed, brother! Omitted in the
Quartos.

^53- yc is strictly a nominative, but it is frequently used in
E. E., and especially by the dramatists, instead of the objective
you. Cf. i. 4. 293 and ii. j. 41.

166. practices, plots, artifices; a common sense in E. E.
Cf. ii. 1. 73, 107, &c., :\.ni.\ practised, iii. 2. 52, &c.

Scene 3

This scene takes up the main thread of the story and follows
directly on the closiiigf dialogue of scene i. In the interval
Goneril is fully instated in her new power, and has gained
confidence in her ability to deprive Lear of the remnants of his
authority.

1. for chiding of. See note, ii. i. 39.

10. answer, answer for. Cf. i. i. 144.

20. With checks as flatteries, &c. The line is best ren-
dered, ' With rebukes instead of Hatteries, when flatteries are
seen to feed their folly'. As has the force of 'instead of
rather than of ' as well as '. They in the second half of the line
is sometimes taken to refer to "old fools", i.e. 'when old fools
are seen to be deceived '. Possibly the line is corrupt : lines
16-20 are omitted in the Folios.

24. Goneril has more initiative than her sister. It is she who
" breeds occasion " to humble Lear completely, and she dictates
her sister's policy.

Scene 4

Lear comes to realize the position in which he has placed /
himself. Hitherto he has appeared merely hasty, wayward, /
and imperious, but we now begin to see the better elements
of his character. The pathos of his lot is emphasized by the
solicitude of Kent and the significant utterances of the >'ooI,
and he now wins our sympathy.

2. defuse, confuse, hence ' disguise ' : an obsolete form of
diffuse.

11. What dost thou profess? What is thy profession? Note
the play on the word in Kent's reply.

(H906} K

146 KING LEAR [Act I

15. converse, associate: the common meaning in Shake-
speare.

16, 17. to eat no fish. Warburton explained this as a refer-
ence to the Roman Catholic custom of eating fish on Fridays.
" In Queen Elizabeth's time the Papists were esteemed enemies
to the government. Hence the proverbial phrase of ' He 's an
honest man and eats no fish ', to signify he 's a friend to the
government and a Protestant." Capell explained it to mean
that Kent was "no lover of such meagre diet as fish": cf.
2 Henry IV, iv. 3. 99 ; but this gives the phrase little point. If
Warburton's explanation is correct, Kent uses this phrase as
an indirect way of expressing his loyalty.

24. Who. See Abbott, § 274. Cf. iv. i. 46.

33. curious. See Glossary.

46. clotpoll, blockhead, 'clod-pate'. The form ' clodpole '
occurs in I\sM'Iftli Night, iii. 4. 208.

53. roundest, plainest. Cf. Ofhcllo, i. 3. 90, "a round un-
varnished tale "; and Tii<elfth Night, ii. 3. 102, "I must be
round with you '.

58, 59. For the construction, see note on iii. 2. 12.

65, &c. We have here the first indication of Lear's finer
qualities. Though hasty in temper, he is at least generous.
Sooner than believe in any purposed unkindness, he blames his
own suspicions.

66. faint, cold, indifferent, half-hearted.

68. pretence, offer. It is commonly synonymous with ptir-
pose (e.g. i. 2. 81), but here it has a stronger force.

70. this two days, a common Shakespearian usage.

73. In Lear's "No more of that ", &c., we detect the first
hint of his regret for his treatment of Cordelia.

92. The Fool plays a very important part in King Lear. He
is not an accessory suited to the public taste, and he has a
higher function than merely to relieve the intensity of the
situation. His rambling remarks do relax the strain on our
feelings, but their chief effect is, by reason of their deep signifi-
cance, to heighten the pathos. See Introduction (4).

coxcomb, the fool's cap.

94. you were best, a common construction in E. E. It is a
corrupted survival of an O. E. usage, in which ro?/ is the dative
and the whole phrase is impersonal. That Shakespeare used
you as a nominative ma)- be seen from such lines as "I were
better to be eaten to death ", .2 Henry IV, i. 2. 245, and " She
were better love a dream", Twelfth Alight, ii. 2. 27. Cf. iii. 4. 95.

Scene 4] NOTES 147

99. on 's, a euphonic contraction of ' of his '. See Abbott,
§ 182. Cf. i. 5. 19, and on '/, 1. 145, &c.

loi, nuncle, the customary address of a fool to his master:
a contraction of mine uncU'.

108. Lady the brach, i.e. the bitch-hound. Cf. iii. 6. 67.

113. showest, seemest to have. Cf. shows (appears), 1. 234.

115. owest, i.e. ownest. Cf. i. i. 196.

116. goest, i.e. walkest, as often in Shakespeare.

117. Learn more than thou trowest. Don't believe all you
iicar.

1 18. Set, stake, offer wag-ers at dice. Cf. Richard 11, iv. i. 57,
" Who sets me else? by heaven I '11 throw at all " {i.e. who else
lays down stakes, challcngfes me). The meaning- seems to be,
"offer lower wagfers than your dice-throws bring to \ou, than
you win at a throw", or " stake lower than the chances of your
game ".

123, 124. Can you make no use of nothing? The Fool
sugg'ests that his lines have a significance which Lear has not
realized. Kent is the first to see that "this is not altog-ether fool ".

132-147. That lord . . . snatching. Omitted in the Folios.
Johnson su^g-ests that there was perhaps a political reason in
their omission, "as they seemed to censure the monopolies";
but this objection does not apply to the fool's verses.

The first two verses are explained by a passag^e in the old
play of King- Lear. See Introduction (3).

145. monopoly. " A satire on the g-ross abuses of mono-
polies at that time, and the corruption and avarice of the
courtiers, who commonly went shares with the patentee "
(W'arburton).

out, taken out, granted to me.
153. thou borest thy ass on thy back. An allusion to
i^ilsop's fable.

155. like myself, i.e. like a fool. He ag-ain insists on his
seriousness.

157-160. "There never was a time when fools were less in
favour; and the reason is, that they were never so little wanted,
for wise men now supply their place " (Johnson).
158. foppish, foolish. Qi. foppery, i. 2. no.
165, 166. These two lines, like several others farther on, are
probably taken from an old song. Stecvens points out a
similar couplet in Hey wood's Rape of Lucrece (1608):
" When Tarquin first in court began,
And was approved king.
Some men for sudden joy 'gan weep.
But I for sorrow sing ".

148 KING LEAR [Act I

179. frontlet, literally a band worn on the forehead, here
used metaphorically for ' frown '.

182. an O, a mere cipher, of no value unless joined to a
figure.

189. shealed, shelled. This form survives in Scots and
provincial Eng-lish.

191. other, i.e. others. Other is now plural only when ^t js
used attributively {e.g. other men). In O. E. other was used in
both numbers, the plural form being othre. The final e was
dropped in time ; hence the E. E. plural form other, which is
found in the authorized version of the Bible along with the
modern form others (see 5. Ltike, xxiii. 32).

197, put on, encourage. Cf. ii. i. 99, 'incite to'.

198. allowance, approval. See Glossary.

200. tender, care, tendance. Cf. / He7iry IV, v. 4, 49,
" thou makest some tender of my life ".

weal, commonwealth.

203. The somewhat embarrassed syntax and the indirect
expressions betoken Goneril's hesitation. Her statements have
been direct enough while she luerely objected to Lear's conduct.
Now for the first time she Ihre.'itens him to his face.

206. it. This possessive form is of fairly common occur-
rence in E. E. Cf. iv. 2. 32. The ordinary neuter possessive
in E. E. is his. Its is not found in Spenser, and occurs very
seldom in Shakespeare {e.g. Hefiry VIII, i. i. 18), but it began
about this time to replace his. For the form it, cf. the West
Midland uninflected genitive hit. See Abbott, § 228.

Sir Joshua Reynolds remarks on the incoherent words with
which Shakespeare often finishes this Fool's speeches: "We
may suppose that they had a custom of taking off the edge of
too sharp a speech by covering it hastily with the end of an old
song, or any glib nonsense that came into mind". This may
apply to "Whoop, Jug! I love thee" in 1. 215; but in the present
case there is a very j:)ertinent meaning in the 'glib nonsense '.

207. A similar figure of speech occurs in Spenser's stor}' of
Lear, Faerie Qiteene, ii. jo. 30. See Appendix, p 149.

2I5- Jug, a colloquial name for a sweetheart or mistress,
derivatively a substitute for the feminine name Joan or Joanna.
According to Steevcns, Whoop, Jug! I love thee is a quotation
from an old song.

218. notion, understanding, intellect: the only meaning of
the word in Shakespeare.

Lear's awakening is so sudden that he can hardly believe
his senses. This reference to his intellect is prophetic. It is
the first hint of his madness.

Scene 4] NOTES 149

222-224. On hearing the Fool's reply, Lear says he should
like to know if he is only Lear's shadow. His marks of
sovcrcig'nt\", his knowlcdtfe, and his reason all tell him that he
is Lear himself, and therefore the father of Goneril, but he may
be falsely persuaded to that effect. — This passage is omitted in
the Folios.

Note the change, from this juncture, in Lear's attitude to the
Fool.

225. Which, whom. See Abbott, §266.

227. admiration, astonishment, wonder.

234. Shows, appears; epicurism, sensuality, though found
m E.E. also in the specialized sense of 'gluttony '.
236. graced, honourable.

(238. Goneril admits her own masterfulness. Her threats are
no longer hesitating or cloaked in obscure phraseology.

240. depend, attend on you, be dependants. For the con-
struction see Abbott, § 354.

246. Goneril's objection to the conduct of Lear's servants is
no doubt justified. We are ready to believe that, on the prin-
ciple of like master like man, they are impetuous and noisy.
I Goneril has the ability to avail herself of every opportunity of
criticism, and to turn every fault, however small, into an excuse
for her conduct.

252. sea-monster. Cf. iv. 2. 50. This is often said to be
the hippopotamus, which in Egyptian tradition was a monster
of impiety and ingratitude. But as the hippopotamus does not
live in the sea, some commentators think the reference is to the
whale. Mr. Craig suggests that Shakespeare had not "any
special kind of monster in his thoughts, but was thinking of
those monsters of classical mythology slain by Hercules and
by Perseus in defence of beauty — these stories were then very
popular ". Cf. Merchant of Venice, iii. 2. 57.

254. choice and rarest, i.e. choicest and rarest, the super-
lative form applying to both : a common construction in E. E.

259. engine, i.e. an engine of torture, the rack.

263. dear, precious. Dear is used regularly in E. E. to ex-
press extremeness or intensity: thus 'my dearest foe' = 'my
greatest foe '.

271. derogate, deteriorated, debased.

274. thwart, perverse; disnatured, unnatural.

285. With characteristic masterfulness and deceit Goneril
had given orders for the number of Lear's followers to be
I decreased before desiring him "a little to disquantity his train".
( Before the threat was uttered, it had been carried out.

I50 KING LEAR [Act I Scene 5

291. untented, incurable; literally not to be probed by a
tent. See i. i. 253.

293. Beweep, i.e. if you beweep,

297. comfortable, ready to comfort. Cf. ii. 2. 158.

303. Albany appears at the beginning- of the play to bo a
mere puppet in the hands of Goneril. He has his qualms of
conscience at her conduct ; but he has great reluctance in
passing any criticism, and he is stopped short before he can do
more than suggest his disapproval. But events show that he
is not wanting in mortil force.

314-325. This man . . . unfitness, omitted in the Quartos.

316. At point, in readiness, fully equipped. Cf. iii. i. 2>2f

317. buzz, whisper, rumour.
322. taken, i.e. by the harms.

329. full, the adjective for the adverb. Cf. iv. 6. 3.

335. attask'd, taken to task, blamed. The Folios read "at
task ".

338. Malone compares Shakespeare's Sonnets, ciii. :

" Were it not sinful then, striving to mend,
To mar the subject that before was well?"

340. the event, the issue ; time w-ill show.

Scene 5

This scene contains little of importance to the action of the
story. Its purpose is to convey a fuller sense of Lear's mis-
fortune ; and this is achieved by the subtle prattle of the Fool,
who knows better thtin Lear how Regan will act, Lear's own
involuntary reference to Cordelia (1. 24), and above all his fore-
boding of madness.

1. Gloucester, the city of Gloucester.

2. Acquaint my daughter no further. Contrast Goneril's
instruction to Oswald in the preceding scene.

8. brains, used in the singular, as elsewhere occasionally in
Shakespeare. Cf. All's Well, iii. 2. 16, "The brains of my
Cupid 's knocked out ".

II. I.e. as you have no brains, j'ou run no risk of kibes and
needing to wear slippers. Kibes, sores on the heels; also

chilblains.

14. kindly, used equivocally with the two meanings ' with
kindness ' and ' after her nature '.

[Act II Scene i] NOTES 151

15. crab, /.<•. cr;ib-;ip|}lo.

24. I did her wrong. " This and Lear's subsequent ejacu-
lations to himself are in verse; his distracted replies to the Fool
ill prose " (Hert'ord).

32. Be; g-enerally used in E. E. to express doubt (a) in
questions, and {b) after verbs of thinking. See Abbott, § 299.

35. the seven stars, the Pleiades.

38. To take 't again perforce! "He is meditating- on the
resumption of his royalty." This is the interpretation of
Johnson, which is better than tiiat of Steevcns, to the effect
that he is thinking on his daughter's having so violently de-
prived him of the privileges she had agreed to grant him.

44,45. "The mind's own anticipation of madness! The
dec[5est tragic notes are often struck by a half sense of an
impending blow ' (Coleridge).

Act II— Scene 1

The minor thread of the story is again taken up, and is now
interwoven with the principal one. Edmund, after succeeding
in his plot to turn his father against Edgar, fitly joins the party
of Regan and Cornwall.

I. Save thee, i.e. God save thee, a common form of saluta-
tion.

6. news ; used indifferently in E. E. in the singular (as in 87,
88) and plural (as here).

8. ear-kissing, whispered; arguments, cf. i. i. 209.

10. toward, near at hand. Cf. iii. 3. 19 and iv. 6. 190.

One of Lear's objects in dividing his kingdom, it will be
remembered, was "that future strife may be prevented now "
(i- >. 37V

17. of a queasy question, requiring delicate handling;
qucttsy, strictly 'squeamish', 'sickly'.

18. briefness, promptitude.

26. Upon his party. The usual explanation of this line is
that Edmund, in order to confuse his brother and alarm him
to a speedy flight, asks Edgar whether he has not spoken
against the Duke of Cornwall, and then, reversing the ques-
tion, asks whether he has not spoken against the Duke of
Albany. Upon his party elsewhere in Shakespeare invariably
means 'on his side' (cf. iv. 6. 2t,z). But this is not an in-
superable obstacle to the simpler interpretation, ' Have you

152 KING LEAR [Act II

said nothing upon the party formed by him against the Duke
of Albany ? '

31. Yield , . . here. Spoken loudly, so that Gloucester may
hear.

39. Edmund knows how to turn to account Gloucester's
superstitiousness.

Mumbling of. The preposition of shows 7nic7nbling to
have the force of a verbal noun. The full construction would
be on mumbling of : cf. for chiding of i. 3. i. But in E. E. the
verbal noun was influenced by the present participle: hence
the omission of the anterior preposition here, and of the pos-
terior preposition in v. 3. 274, a-hanging thee.

46. bend, direct. Cf. iv. 2. 74.

49. loathly, with abhorrence, loathingly.

50. motion, a fencing term for 'attack', 'thrust'.
53. alarum'd. See Glossary.

59. arch, master, chief: a substantival use of the adjective.

65. pight, determined, resolved: an old past tense of 'pitch'.
Cf. Troiliis and Cressido,\. 10. 24, " You vile abominable tents,
Thus proudly pight upon our Phrygian plains ".

curst, angry, sharp : the same word as cursed,

67. Thou unpossessing bastard. " Thus the secret poison
in Edmund's own heart steals forth; and then observe poor
Gloucester's ' Loyal and natural boy ', as if praising the crime
of Edmund's birth " (Coleridge).

unpossessing, as a bastard cannot inherit.

73. suggestion. See Glossary.

practice. Cf. i. 2. 166.

75. If they not thought. A common construction in E. E.
The auxiliary was not required wlieii tlie negative preceded the
verb. See Abbott, § 305, and cf. iv. 2. 2.

77. fasten'd, determined.

78. got, i.e. begot. Cf. iii. 4. 134.

85. capable, legally able to inherit. The New Etiglish Dic-
tionary gives the following quotation from Guillim's Heraldry
(1610), " Bastards are not capable of their fathers patrimony ".

97. consort, company, set: accented on the last syllable.

100. expense, the spending, expenditure.

101. Regan takes her cue from Goneril. She is perhaps
even more repulsive than her sister, for she is cringingly spite-
ful, and lacks courage as well as initiative. "Regan is not,

Scene 2] NOTES 153

in tact, a ^roater monster than Goneril, but she has the power
ot'castinjj inort- venom" (Coleridg-o).

106. 'Twas my duty, the crowning touch of Edmund's sub-
lime hypocrisy.

107. bewray, reveal, with no sense of perfidy, as now.
Cf. iii. 6. loy.

his practice, Edgar's plot.
HI. make your own purpose, &c. Carry out your own
design, availing yourself as you please of my power.

113. virtue and obedience doth. A singular verb is com-
mon in E.E. after two nouns which enforce the same ideii or
are not meant to be thought of separately. Cf. iii. 4. 133 and
141.

119. Regan interposes to explain of herself the reason of
their visit. It is not necessary to hold that Regan interrupts
Cornwall, much less that the interruption is ' characteristic '.
She could not behave to Cornwall in the overbearing manner
that Goneril does to Albany. Cornwall's remark is complete
in itself, and Regan merely takes it up and adds to it, as she is
the person mainly concerned in their visit. It was to her that
both her father and sister had written. Moreover, we are dis-
tinctly told in the following scene that it is the Duke's disposi-
tion '' not to be rubb'd nor stopp'd '. Cf. also ii. 4. 88-90.

119. threading dark-eyed night. Note the pun. There is
another instance of it in King Juhn, v. 4. 11, "Unthread the
rude eye of rebellion ".

120. poise, weight, moment.

123. which. The antecedent is some such word as ' letters'
understood. The relative is used with great freedom in E. E.

125. attend dispatch, await to be dispatched. Cf. ii. 4. 35.

Scene 2

The events of this scene are not important in themselves,
though they emphasize Regan's and Cornwall's hostility to
Lear. They are essentially preparatory to the fourth scene
of this act.

I. dawning, morning.

8. Lipsbury pinfold. This phrase remains unexplained.
The suggestion which is received with most favour is that " It
may be a coined name, and it is just possible that it might
mean the teeth, as being the pinfold within the lips" (Nares):
cf. tpKO% 656i^wf. This explanation, however, is not entirely
satisfactor)-. There is probably an allusion to some place of
which record is lost.

154 KING LEAR [Act II

14. &c. three-suited. Some of Kent's allusions are explained
by a passage in Ben Jonson's Silent Woman, iii. i, in which a
rich wife rails at her husband in the following- terms: "Who
g'ives you your maintenance, I pray you? Who allows you
your horse-meat, and man's meat? your three suits of apparel
a year? your four pair of stocking's, one silk, three worsted?"
Cf. also Middleton's Phcenix, iv. 3 (quoted by Steevens):
"How's this? Am I used like a hundred-pound gentleman?"
Three-suited, menials being generally allowed three suits a
year; hundred-pound, a term of reproach implying poverty;
ivorsted-stocking, likewise implying poverty or menial employ-
ment, silk stockings being invariably worn by people who
could afford them.

15. lily-livered. Cf. iv. 2. 50, "Milk-livered man". The
liver being regarded as the seat of courage, a bloodless liver
was said to betoken cowardice. Cf. 2 Henry IV, iv. 3. 113:
"left the liver white and pale, which is the badge of pusilla-
nimity and cowardice ".

16. action-taking, settling disputes by law rather than by
the sword; hence likewise 'cowardly', 'mean-spirited'

glass-gazing, looking in the mirror, foppish.

super-serviceable, above his work (Wright). Johnson and
Schmidt give ' over-officious '.

17. one-trunk-inheriting, possessing enough for one trunk
only, hiheriting, see Glossary.

21. addition. Cf. i. i. 129.

28. sop o' the moonshine, perhaps an allusion to an old
dish of eggs cooked in oil called ' eggs in moonshine ', re-
ferred to in Gabriel Harvey's Pierces Supererogation (1593) and
other contemporary works.

cuUionly, rascall)', wretched, like a cullion.

28, 29. barber-monger, a frequenter of barbers' shops, a fop.

32. vanity the puppet. 'Vanity' was a common character
in the o»d Moralities.

33t 34- carbonado, slash, hack; literally, make into a 'car-
bonado ', a piece of flesh cut crosswise and grilled.

34. come your ways, come on.
36. neat, foppish, spruce.

40. With you. Kent purposely takes Edmund's "matter"
in tlie sense of 'cause of quarrel'.

goodman, a familiar name of address, used contemptu-
ously.

Scene 2] NOTES 155

41. flesh, initiate in bloodshed; primarily, to initiate in the
taste nf flosli, as hunting;-d(>jjs.
49. disclaims in, disowns.

58. zed! thou unnecessary letter. Cf. Ben Jonson's Eng-
lish Grammar (cd. Giffonl and Cunnintfhani, iii. p. 4J5): "Z is
a letter often heard amongst us, but seldom seen ", its place
beinjc commonly taken in writinij by S. The letter Z was
often omitted in the dictionaries of the time.

59. unbolted, i.e. unsifted ; hence ' coarse '. " Unbolted
mortar is mortar made of unsifted lime, and to break the
lumps it is necessary to tread it by men in wooden shoes"
(Toilet).

69. intrinse, intricate. See Glossary.

72. turn their halcyon beaks, &c. An allusion to the old
idea that the king^fisher, if hung' up by the neck, always turned
so as to face straight against the wind.

75. epileptic, distorted with a grin.

76. Smile, smile at. Cf. i. i. 154.

77. 78. Goose . . . Camelot. Another obscure passage.
Some commentators suggest an allusion to a proverbial say-
ing in the Arthurian legends, Camelot being the seat of King
.\rthurs court. Others, more plausibly, refer to the flocks of
geese bred near Cadbury, in Somersetshire, the traditional site
of Camelot.

86. The key-note of Kent's character, and the source of all
his troubles. Cf. ii. 4. 41.

8g. some, with the force of the indefinite article, a survival
of the O. E. sum.

91. garb, manner, fashion: as often in E. E. The meaning
dress is derivative and comparatively late.

95. These kind of knaves. See Kellner, §§167-172.

97. observants, obsequious courtiers. Similarly observance
= homage, As You Like It, v. 2. 102, and obserz'e = \.o show-
respect to, as in "the obser\ed of all observers", Hamlet,
iii. I. 162. Note that oAsrri/rtH/^ is accented on the first syllable.

98. nicely. See Glossary.

100. aspect, accented on the second syllable, as always in
Shakespeare. Both aspect and influence have an astrological
reference.

106. win your displeasure, Ace, i.e. 'win you in your dis-
pleasure to ask me to be a plain knave (i.e. a flatterer)'.

III. upon his misconstruction, through his misunderstand-
ing me.

IS6 KING LEAR [Act II

112. conjunct, in agreement with him. Cf. v. i. 12.

115. worthied him, made him appear wortiiy.

117. in the fleshment of, being fleshed with, made eager.

a. 1. 41.

119. their fool, a fool compared with them, — according to
their own stories of their valour.

132. colour, sort, kind.

135-139- His fault . . . punish'd with. Omitted in the
Folios, which read for 1. 139, " The king his master needs must
take it ill ".

148. rubb'd, hindered, obstructed: a term in the game of
bowls, the noun rub signifying anything that hinders a bowl's
course. Cf. King Jolm, iii. 4. 128:

• " For even the breath of what I mean to speak
Shall blow each dust, each straw, each little rub,
Out of the path ".

149. watched, kept awake. Cf. ' o'erwatch'd ", 1. 164.
131. out at heels. Cf. ' out at elbows '.

154. approve, confirm, prove the truth of. Cf. i. i. 178.

155. 156. out of heaven's . . . sun, a proverbial expression
for a change from better to worse. The earliest known in-
stance of it occurs in the Proverbs oj John Heyivood, 1546 (ed.
Sharman, 1874, p. 115):

" In 5'our running from him to me, yee runne
Out of God's blessing into the warme sunne".

Cf. also Lyly's Euphiies (ed. Arber, pp. 196 and 320). But
the origin of this ' common saw ' is not known. Hanmer said
It was applied to those who are turned out of house and home
to the open \yeather, and Johnson suggested that it was used
of men dismissed from an hospital or house of charity. A
recent explanation— that " the proverb refers to the haste of the
congregation to leave the shelter of the church immediately
after the priest's benediction, running from God's blessing into
the warm sun "—need not be treated seriously. For the idea
of the proverb cf. Psalms, Iii. 8.

162-164. Many explanations of this difficult sentence have
been suggested. Some hold that the lines are a portion of
Cordelia's letter read aloud by Kent. Others correct the
syntax, reading 'she'll' for 'shall', and taking 'state-seeking'
as a compound word. Others again accept the incompleteness
of the sentence and ascribe it to Kent's being " weary and o'er-
watched ", the halting syntax indicating that Kent is dropping

Scene 4] NOTES IS7

off 10 sleep. The text is apparently corrupt, and some words
or lines may have been omitted.

163. enormous. See Glossary.

Scene 3

" Edg'ar's assumed madness serves the great purpose of
takinij off part of the shock which would otherwise be caused
by the true madness of Lear " (Coleridt^e).

Bedlam beggars or Tom o Bedlams (i. 2. 121), also known
as Abraham-men, were convalescent or harmless patients of
Bedlam asylum who were turned out to wander or beg". The
custom was in vogue in Shakespeare's time, but appears to
have ceased about the middle of the seventeenth century. (See
note, iii. 6. 74.) The following account of an Abraham-man,
quoted by Steevens from I )ekker's Bell-man of London, 1608, is
an interesting parallel to Shakespeare's description of Edgar:
— " He sweares he hath been in Bedlam, and will talke fran-
tickcly of purpose: you see pinnes stuck in sundry places of
his naked flesh, especially in his amies, which paine he gladly
puts himself to, only to make you believe he is out of his wits.
He calls himselfe by the name of Poore Tom, and comniing near
any body cries out, Poor Tom is a-cold. Of these Abraham-men,
some be exceeding merry, and doe nothing but sing songs
fashioned out of their own braines: some will dance, others will
doe nothing but either laugh or weepe: others are dogged and
so sullen both in loke and speech, that spying but a small
company in a house, they boldlv and bluntly enter, compelling
the scrv.'ints through fear to give them what they demand."

I, 3. proclaim'd, port. Cf. ii. 1. 60 and 80.

6. am bethought, am minded, intend.
10. elf, mat, tangle, — as an elf might do.

17. object, appearance.

18. pelting, paltry. See Glossary.

20. Turlygod, apparently a common name for a Bedlam
beggar: perhaps an English variation of Turlupin, the name
of a similar class of beggars in France in the fourteenth cen-
tury.

Scene 4

This great scene brings us to the crisis of Lear's anguish.
Finding Regan and Cornwall unexpectedly absent from their
own home, Lear has followed them to Gloucester's castle.

7. cruel, with a play upon crewel, worsted: apparently a
common pun at the time.

IS8 KING LEAR [Act I \

lo. nether - stocks, literally stocking's, another pun. Cf.
/ Henry J l'^, ii. 4. 130, " I '11 sew nether stocks and mend them
and foot them too ". Breeches appear to have been called
' over-stocks ' or ' upper-stocks '.

23. upon respect, deliberately, upon consideration.

24. Resolve, inform, satisfy. Cf. resolution, i. 2. 93.
27. commend, deliver. See Glossary.

32. spite of intermission, thougfh my business was thus
interrupted.

33. on, in accordance with, on the ground of: this sense,
which is very common in Shakespeare, arises from the tem-
poral sense ' immediately after '. Cf. iii. 7. 76.

41. Admirable as is Kent's character in point of honesty and
manliness, he is an unfortunate messenger for Lear to have
chosen. He has Lear's hastiness and want of tact in an
exaggerated degree, and he only prejudices his master's
cause. In a sense all Lear's friends are his enemies, as they
play into Goneril's and Regan's hands.

45-52. 'Winter's . . . year. Omitted in the Quartos.

51. dolours, another pun, suggested by the ?«o«^j>/-' bags '.
The same pun occurs in the Tempest, ii. i. 18, 19, and Measure
for Measure, i. 2. 50.

53, 54. mother and Hysterica passio were the popular and
medical names for the complaint now known as hj'steria. The
use of these terms was probably suggested by a passage in
Harsnet's Declaration of Popish Impostures, 1603, to which
Shakespeare is otherwise indebted in this play. Lear's anguish
of heart makes him ascribe to himself the complaint which,
according to Harsnet, " riseth of a winde in the bottome of the
belly, and proceeding with a great swelling, causeth a very
painful collicke in the stomach, and an extraordinary giddiness
in the head" (quoted by Bishop Percy). Hence Lear's words,
" climbing sorrow " and " swells up towards my heart ".

60. How chance was a common construction in questions
for 'how chances it that'. "Here chance takes no inflection
and almost assumes the character of an adverb " (AVw English
Dictionary). Cf. Merry Wives, v. 5. 230, " How chance you
went not with Master Slender?"

64, 65. school to an ant . . . winter. See Proverbs, vi. 6-8.
A king's followers are only summer friends: Lear has "so small
a train " as he is in adversity.

67. stinking, referring likewise to Lear's adversity. Malone
quotes in illustration All's Well, v. 2. 4, &c.: "I am now, sir,
muddied in fortune's mood, and smell somewhat strong of her

Scene 4] NOTES 159

strong' displeasure. . . . Truly fortune's displeasure is but
sluttish, if it smell so strongly as thou speakest of. "

74. sir, man ; frequently so used as a common noun in
Shakespeare.

80, 81. .-Itter referring- to the wise man flying, the F"ool adds
that the wise man who is such a knave as to run away is in
reality a fool, while on the other hand the fool who remains is
no knave. The antecedent to that is knave.

84. Deny, refuse.

85. fetches, subterfuges, tricks. Note the play on the word
in 1. 87.

loi, &c. Lear's generous attempt to excuse Cornwall sug-
gests that he is mellowing with his misfortunes. The "fiery
quality " that he complains of is one of his own strongest char-
acteristics, and he himself was " unremovable and fixed " when
he disinherited Cordelia and banished Kent. His misfortunes
have so far dazed him that he almost seems to be learning self-
control. But the sight of Kent, and the thought of the indignity
thus done him in his messenger, throw him back on his old
impetuosity.

102. office, duty.

106. more headier. For the double comparative see note
i. I. 71. The comparative has here merely an intensive force,
"more headier " meaning 'very heady", 'too heady'. Cf.
Cynibeline, iii. 4. 164, "the harder heart". Heady, impetuous.

107. To take, for taking. This gerundial infinitive is com-
mon in E. E.

no. remotion, removal.

115. cry sleep to death, put an end to sleep.

118. cockney, a pampered, affected woman. The context
suggests that the word is used also in the sense of ' cook ' ; but
there is no evidence to show that it had ever any such meaning.
See Glossary.

131. \n allusion to the story of Prometheus, who was
chained to a rock on Mount Caucasus, where a vulture fed on
his liver.

I35< ^36- The literal meaning is the opposite of what is
intended. The sense, however, is clear, — ' Vou rather fail to
value, are more likely to undervalue '.

136-141. Say, how . . . blame. Omitted in the Quartos.

151. unnecessary, of no account, useless.

159. top, head, young bones, a fairly common phrase in
Elizabethan literature for an ' unborn child '.

i6o KING LEAR [Act II Scene 4

160. taking, malignant, infecting-, blasting: "used of the
malignant influence of superhuman powers" (Schmidt). Cf.
iii. 4. 56, and Hayydct, i. 1. 163, "Then no planets strike, No
fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm ".

168. tender-hefted, tenderly fitted, delicately framed. Heft

is an old form for haft, a handle.

172. sizes, allowances. See Glossary.

175. bond of childhood. Lear himself is now constrained
to refer to the "bond of childhood ". Cf. Cordelia's words,
i. I. 86.

176. Effects, manifestations. Cf. i. i. 124.

178. So far Regan has said nothing to incense Lear. She
has been cold and heartless, but she wants the courage to show
herself in her true light before the arrival of her sister. Once
she has Goncril's presence to support her, she can screw herself
up to actions which are a maddening sequel to the praises Lear
has just uttered.

180. approves. Cf. ii. 2. 154.

188. Allow, approve of. See Glossary.

" When Lear calls upon the heavens to avenge his cause,
'for they are old like him', there is nothing extravagant or
impious in this sublime identification of his age with theirs; for
there is no other image which could do justice to the agonising
sense of his wrongs and his despair" (Hazlitt).

197. much less advancement, a much less respectable
punishment.

213. sumpter, literally a packhorse; used in the secondary
sense of ' drudge '.

242. slack, neglect, be careless in their attendance on.

253-255. I.e. wicked as Goneril is, she appears well favoured
in comparison with Regan ; it is something to be said for
Goneril that there is another even more wicked.

261. "Observe that the tranquillity which follows the first
stunning of the blow permits Lear to reason " (Coleridge).

262. superfluous, possessed of more than what is necessary.

282. flaws, shivers, splinters. See Glossary.

283. Or ere. See Glossary.

The disjointed syntax, the short words, and their direct-
ness show Lear's difficulty in expressing himself. In this awful
picture of passion the very structure of the lines reflects the
incoherence of Lear's rage. He begins by asking Heaven for
patience, but in the next breath asks to be touched with noble

Act III Scene i] NOTES i6i

ang-er, and, stmgfg'Iing: agfainst his gentler impulses, defiantly
threatens the "terrors of the earth".

289. For his particular, as to him himself. Cf. Troilus and
Cressida, ii. 2. 9, "As far as toucheth my particular", i.e. as
far .'IS I mvself am concerned.

303. incense, incite, provoke.

Act III— Scene 1

So far everything- has gone well with Regan and Goncril.
In this scene we have the first hint of their retribution, in the
announcement that the King of F"rance has planned an inva-
sion. But though the tide is turning against Regan and
Goneril, Lear's lot becomes only more pitiable. The agitation
and tempest in his own mind are symbolized in the raging of
the elements.

6. main, apparently in the uncommon sense of mainland,
though other instances of this use have been pointed out in
E. E., but not in Shakespeare.

7-15. tears . . . take all. Omitted in the Folios.

10. little world of man. An allusion to the old theory
according to which man — the ' microcosm ' or little world —
was an epitome of the universe or great world — the ' macro-
cosm '. This theory was the basis of the astrological belief,
so often alluded to in this play, in the connection of the move-
ments of the planets with the fortunes of men.

12. cub-drawn, i.e. " with udders all drawn dry", "sucked
and hungry ', as in As You Like It, iv. 2. 115, 127.

18. upon the warrant of my note, on the strength of my
information.

19. dear, important, momentous; cf. i. 4. 263.

22-29. who have . . . furnishings. Omitted in the Quartos.

23, 24. who, Which. See Abbott, § 266.

speculations, observers: an instance of abstract for con-
crete. Cf. iii. 4. 26.

25. Intelligent, informative, giving information. Cf. iii. 7. 11.

26. snuffs, resentments, quarrels. "To take in snuff" was
a regular phrase (used elsewhere in Shakespeare) for ' to take
offence at '.

packings, plottings. Cf. /rtr>l^ (= confederacies), v. 3. 18,
and the use of the verb ( = to arrange or manipulate fraudu-
lently), as in the phrases ' to pack a jurj- ', ' to pack cards '.
{M906) L

i62 KING LEAR [Act III

29. furnishings, outward signs

30-42. But, true ... to you. Omitted in tlie Folios.

47. fear, doubt. Cf. v. 1. 16.

53) 54- your pain That way, i.e. your work of search lies
that way, while I'll go this.

Scene 2

2= hurricanoes, waterspouts. See Glossary.

3. cocks, weathercocks.

4. thought - executing, doing execution with the speed of
thought, swift as thought.

8. germens spill. See Glossary.

10. court holy- water, a proverbial phrase for flatter)', fair
words, ' soft-sawder '. Cf. the French eau b^nite de coitr.

12. here's a night pities. This construction i.s frequently
explained as due to the omission of the relative (see Abbott,
§ 244) ; but it is really a survival of the construction called
dirb Koivov, in which one subject serves for two predicates, and
from which the relative clause was developed. See Kellner,
§§ 109-111. Cf. i. 4. 58, 59, iii. 4. 99, 100, and iv. 3. 33.

18. subscription, submission. Cf. subscribed, i. 2. 19.

23. battles, battalions, as commonly in E. E.

27, &c. It is difficult to draw a satisfactory meaning from
these v'crses, though tiie fool's remarks have generally a deep
significance. The best explanation is that by Furness: "A
man who prefers or cherishes a mean member in place of a
vital one shall suffer enduring pain where others would suffer
merely a twinge. Lear had preferred Regan and Goneril to
Cordelia."

44. I.e. it is too great for man to suffer or dread.

49. simular man, i.e. simulator. This is the reading of the
Folios: the Quartos omit man, in which case sinndar is a noun.

52. practised. Cf. i. 2. 166.

53. concealing continents, ' shrouds of secrecy '. For
this use of continent in the sense of 'that which contains',
cf. Antony and Cleopatra, iv. 14. 40, " Heart, once be stronger
than thy continent ".

53, 54. cry These summoners grace. A common construc-
tion. Cf. "cry you mercy ", iii. 4. 159 and iii. 6. 50; grace,
mercy.

55. More sinn'd against than sinning. Cf. the similar

Scene 3] NOTES 163

statement of Oedipus in the Oedipus Colofteus of Sophocles,
11. 266, J67 :

iird TO. y fpya fiov
ireirovObr' iarl ixSWov ^ StSpaKSra
(" Since mine acts, at least, have been in suffering rather
than doing ").

61. Denied, did not allow. Cf. ii. 4. 84.

62. My wits begin to turn. Note the succession of Lear's
statements as to his mental condition and their increasing
definiteness. In i. 4. 218, 219, he says:

"Either his notion weakens, his discernings
Are lethargied — Ha! waking? 'tis not so";

in i. 5. 44. 45:

" O, let me not be mad, not mad, sweet heaven!
Keep me in temper: I would not be mad!";

21

J-

" I prithee, daughter, do not make me mad";

in ii. 4. 283:

" O fool, I shall go mad!"
Now he says definitely " My wits begin to turn ".

69. Apparently a variation of the first verse of the Clown's
song at the end of T-<i'elfth Xight:

" When that I was and a little tiny boy.
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
A foolish thing was but a toy.

For the rain it raineth every day ".

74-88. Omitted in the Quartos, and probably an actor's inter-
polation. The verses are modelled on some well-known lines
commonly called ' Chaucer's Prophecy '. They are referred
to as by Chaucer in Puttenham's Art of English Poesie (ed.
Arbor, p. 232), but are certainly not his. See Skeat's Chancer,
vol. i, p. 46, where they are reprinted from Caxton. There is
in the Bodleian (see Professor Skeat's letter to the Athenceum,
19th December, 1896) a MS. copy of this very prophecy with
the heading " Prophecia Merlini doctoris perfecti ". In / Henry
IV, iii. I. 150, Shakespeare speaks of "the dreamer Merlin
and his prophecies ", Some of Merlin's prophecies are given
in Holinshed.

Scene 3

The Gloucester plot is again taken up and interwoven more
closely with the main story. Hitherto Gloucester has only-
hinted disapproval of Goneril's and Regan's conduct (ii. 4. 297),

i64 KING LEAR [Act III

but lie now definitely throws in liis lot with Lear. He confides
in Edmund, and so plays into the hands of his enemies. The
parallelisms in the two stories now become more marked.

12. home, to the utmost, thoroug-hly. Cf. iii. 4. 16.

13. power already footed. See iii. 1. 30-32.

19. toward. Cf. ii. i. 10.

20. forbid thee, which you were forbidden to do him.

Scene 4

" O, what a world's Cjonvention of agonies is here! All
external nature in a storm, all moral nature convulsed, — the
real madness of Lear, the feigned madness of Edgar, the
babbling of the Fool, the desperate fidelity of Kent — surely
such a scene was never conceived before or since! Take it
but as a picture for the eye only, it is more terrific than any
which a Michael Angelo, inspired by a Dante, could have
conceived, and which none but a Michael Angelo could have
executed. Or let it have been uttered to the blind, the bowl-
ings of nature would seem converted into the voice of conscious
humanity. This scene ends with the first symptoms of posi-
tive derangement ; and the intervention of the fifth scene is
particularly judicious, — the interruption allowing an interval
for Lear to appear in full madness in the sixth scene " (Cole-
ridge).

28, &c. Lear's affliction incites compassion in him for the
poorest of his subjects. The finer elements in his character
are brought out by his sufferings. "Expose thyself to feel
what wretches feel " is utterly alien to the Lear of the first
scene. Compare Gloucester's similar remark after he too has
suffered (iv. i. 68-70).

31. loop'd, full of holes, loop-holed. Cf. i Henry IV, iv. i. 71,
"stop all sight-holes, every loop from whence The eye of reason
may pry in upon us".

37. Fathom and half, as if he were taking soundings at
sea, the idea being suggested apparently by the rain.

44. Through the sharp hawthorn, &c. Probably a line
from an old song or ballad. Cf. Percy's Friar of Orders Grey,
1. 87.

45. go to thy cold bed, &c. This phrase occurs also in the
Ta»ii>iir of tlie Shrew, Induction, 1. 10. It was apparently
proverbial.

51. laid knives . . . pew. This passage likewise seems to
owe something (cf. ii. 4. 53) to Harsnet's Declaration of Popish

/

Scene 4] NOTES 165

Impostures, 1603. Malonc quotes from it a story of how an
apollu'cary, in order to tempt a girl to suicide, " having-
broujfht with him ... a new halter, and two blades of knives,
did leave the same upon the g^allerie floore in her maister's
house"; and how "it was reported that the devil layd them in
the gallery that some of those that were possessed might either
hang themselves with the halter or kill themselves with the
blades ".

53. four-inched, four inches broad.

54. five wits, not the ^t;^ senses, but "common wit, imagi-
nation, fantasy, estimation, and memory ", according to a line
in Stephen Hawes's Puslime of Pleasure (quoted by Malone).
The two terms are often confounded, but Shakespeare keeps
them distinct. Thus Sonnets, cxli.:

" Hut my five wits nor my five senses can
Dissuade one foolish heart from serving thee ".

Cf. iii. 6. 55, and Tivelfth Night, iv. 2. 92.

56. star-blasting, being ' struck ' or blighted by the influ-
ence of the stars.

taking. See ii. 4. 160.

66. "What a bewildered amazement, what a wrench of the
imagination, that cannot be brought to conceive of any other
cause of misery than that which has bowed it down, and absorbs
all other sorrow in its own! His sorrow, like a flood, supjilies
the sources of all other sorrow." And again, " It is the mere
natural ebullition of passion, urged nearly to madness, and that
will admit no other cause of dire misfortune but its own, which
swallows up all other griefs ". (Hazlitt.)

71. pelican daughters, alluding to the legend that young
pelicans fed upon their parents' blood. The story occurs in the
medieval Bestiaries, among others in the Ancren Rhvle. Cf.
Hamlet, iv. 5. 146, and Richard IJ, ii. i. 126. A similar allusion
occurs in the old pl.iy of King Leir:

" I am as kind as is the pellican
That kils it selfe to save her yong ones lives ".

72. Pillicock — here suggested by ' pelican ' — was a term of
endearment meaning ' my pretty boy '. There is perhaps an
allusion to the old rhyme :

" Pillicock, Pillicock sat on a hill,
If he 's not gone, he sits there still "'.

(Quoted by Collier from Gammer Gurton's Garland.)

82. wore gloves in my cap, as his mistress's favours.

94. Dolphin my boy. Apparently another allusion to a
song. The same phrase occurs in Ben Jonson's Bartholomew

i66 KING LEAR [Act III

Fair, v. 3, " He shall be Dauphin my boy ". Steevens adduced
a stanza from which he said it was taken :

" Dolphin, my boy, my boy,
Cease, let him trot by;
It seemeth not that such a foe
From me or you would fly".

This was a stanza, he said, from a very old ballad written on
some battle fouifht in France, and repeated to him by an old
gentleman. Unfortunately no trace of this ballad is discover-
able. Dolphin is an old form o{ Dauphin.

94. sessa, on ! an exhortation to speed. Cf. iii. 6. 72.

99. the cat, i.e. the civet-cat.

104. naughty. See Glossary.

106. Flibbertigibbet. The name of a fiend, probably sug-
gested, like ' Smulkin ', ' Modo ', ' Mahu ', and ' Frateretto '
(iii. 6. 6) below, b^■ a passage in Via.rsne\.'s Declaration of Popish
Impostures. The word, however, was fairly common at the
time, though in different forms, e.g. ' flebergebet ', and it was
used in the sense of a gossiping or frivolous woman. Cf. Scott's
Kenilworth, ch. x.

107. the web and the pin, an old name for cataract. Cf.
Winter's Tale, i. 2. 291, "and all eyes Blind with the web and
pin but theirs ".

no. S. Withold, Saint Vitalis, who was invoked against
nightmare. The Folios have Swithold, a reading preserved
by several editors.

old, i.e. wold, a down. Old is a common provincial pro-
nunciation; the form is often found in E. E.

III. nine - fold, "nine familiars, in the form of 'foals'"
(Herford).

114. aroint thee, begone, away with thee. The origin of
the word is unknown. Cf. Macbeth, i. 3. 6.

120. wall-newt, the lizard; water, i.e. water-newt.

122. sallets, salads: a common form in E. E.

ditch-dog, a dead dog thrown into m ditch.

127,. 128. A quotation from the romance of Sir Bevis of
Hamptoiin :

" Rattes and myce and suche small dere
Was his meate that seven yere ",

deer. See Glossary.

147. prevent, with the old sense of anticipating, and so
defeating by forestalling.

Scene 6] NOTES 167

152. He said. See i. i. 148-150.

155. outlaw'd from my blood. One of the legal conse-
quences of outlawry is "corruption of blood", i.e. inability to
inherit or bequeath. Cf. i Henry VI, iii. i. 159, " our pleasure
is That Richard be restored to his blood ".

In Gloucesters words "he sought my life", Edgar has the
first explanation of his father's attitude.

159. I cry you mercy, I beg your pardon: a common phrase
in the Elizabethan dramatists. Cf. iii. 2. 53.

165. soothe, humour, as frequently in Shakespeare.

170. Child Rowland, &c. These lines may perhaps be
taken from tlie ballad of " Child Rowland and Burd Ellen ",
fragments of which are given in Child's English and Scottish
Ballads, 1861, vol. i. Two of the lines are:
"With_/f, Ji, fo, and /urn/
I smell the blood of a Christian man " (p. 251).
For British, see Introduction (2).

Scene 5

Edmund now appears at the height of his villainy and of
his fortune. He has already supplanted his elder brother in
his father's regard and has been declared heir; he now sup-
plants his father himself and is made by Cornwall Earl of
Gloucester.

2. censured, judged (not necessarily judged adversely). This
is the usual meaning in Shakespeare. Cf. the similar tendency
in the word criticism.

3. something fears me, frightens me somewhat.

5. provoking, impelling, urging, inciting.

8, 9. approves him, proves him to be. Cf. i. i. 178.

9, intelligent, well-informed, though it may have the same
force as in iii. i. 25 and iii. 7. 1 1.

14. Edmund's plans have succeeded. Cf. iii. 3. 22, 22,.

17. comforting. See Glossary.

Scene 6

4. have, plural by attraction.

6. Frateretto. See note on Flibbertigibbet, iii. 4. 106.

6, 7. Nero . . . darkness. Said to be an allusion to Rabelais,
Gargantua and Pantagruel, ii. 30, where Nero is described as a
fiddler and Trajan as an angler. There is another reference to

i68 KING LEAR [Act III

Rabelais in As You Like It, iii. 2. 238, " You must borrow me
Gargantua's mouth".

7. innocent, a mild term for ' simpleton ', ' fool '.

12-14. No, he's a yeoman . . . him. Omitted in the Quartos.

17-55. The foul fiend ... let her 'scape ? Omitted in the
Folios.

19. horse's health, the horse being specially liable to
disease. Cf. Taming of the Shrein, iii. 2. 50-56.

23, 24. Wantest thou eyes, &c. The mention of the
' glaring ' of the foul fiend prompts Edgar to ask one of the
"she foxes" if she wishes to be glared at {i.e. admired) during
her trial.

25. Come o'er the bourn, Bessy. The first line of a ballad
by William Birche, written in 1558, the year of the queen's
accession, and entitled A Songe bct-wene the Queries Alajestie
and Englande. It is printed in full in the Ilarleian Miscellany,
vol. X, p. 260, edition of 1S13. The first lines are:

" Come over the born, Bessy,
Come over the born, Bessy,
Swete Besse}' come over to me ".

bourn, brook: a variant oi burn.

30. Hopdance, probably suggested by " Hoberdidance ",
the name of another fiend in Harsnet's Declaration. Hobhidi-
dance (iv. i. 60) is apparently another form of the same word.

30, 31. white herring, fresh herring.

38. Bench, sit on the judge's bench.

41, &c. Sleepest or wakest thou.' Apparently another
snatch of a song.

43. minikin, dainty, pretty,

45. Pur! Perhaps only an imitation of the noise made by a
cat, though, as Malone pointed out, Piirre is the name of one
of the devils mentioned in Harsnet's book.

51. I took you for a joint-stool, a proverbial expression,
of which the precise meaning is not now known.

53. store. Some editions read 'stone', others 'stuff'.

56. five wits. See note, iii. 4. 54.

57, 58. See ii. 4. 227 and 268, and iii. 2. 33.

61. "When he exclaims in the mad scene 'The little dogs'
&c., it is passion lending occasion to imagination to make
every creature in league against him, conjuring up ingratitude
and insult in their least-looked-for and most galling shapes,
searching every thread and fibre of his heart, and finding out

Scene 6] NOTES 169

the last remaining: image of respect or attachment in the bottom
of his breast only to torture and kill it!" And again, "All
nature was, as he supposed, in a conspiracy against him, and
the most trivial and insignificant creatures concerned in it were
the most striking proofs of its malignity and extent ". (Hazlitt.)

68. brach, cf. i. 4. 108; lym, a bloodhound: called also a
lva"i or lime-hound, " from the leuin or leash in which he was
held till he was let slip ".

69. trundle-tail, a dog with a curled tail.

74. thy horn is dry. The allusion is explained by the fol-
lowing passage in Aubreys Natural History of Wiltshire (quoted
bv Halliwcll-PhiHipps):'"Till the breaking out of the Civill
\Varres, Tom 0 Bedlams did traucll about the countery. They
had been poore distracted men that had been putt into Bedlam,
where recovering to some sobernesse, they were licentiated to
goe a begging . . . They wore about their necks a great horn
of an oxe in a string or bawdric, which, when they came to an
house for almes, they did wind; and they did putt the drink
given them into this horn, whereto they did putt a stopple."
Edgar's meaning, of course, is that he has come to the end of
his role.

79. Persian, i.e. rich and gorgeous, spoken ironically. Cf.
Horace's " Persicos apparatus", Odes, i. 38.

94. Stand in assured loss, will assuredly be lost. Cf. line
99, stand in hard cure, will be hard to cure, is almost incurable,
iv. I. 4, ii. 4. 255, &c. In this common idiom stand is an em-
phatic substitute for the auxiliary.

96-100. Oppressed . . . behind. Omitted in the Folios.

97. sinews, used in the sense of nerves. Cf. Venus and
Adonis, 903, " A second fear through all her sinews spread ".

IOI-114. When we . . . lurk. This soliloquy is not in the
Folios. Its genuineness has been doubted on the score of its
style. In point of rhythm and verse mechanism generally it is
inferior to the other rhymed passages in this play. But on the
other hand it has much closer connection with the action of the
plav than an interpolation would be likely to have, and certain
parts, e.g. "he childcd as I father'd ", are undoubtedly in the
Shakespearian manner. The poorness of the opening lines
prejudices us against the passage, but there is nothing to dis-
prove its genuineness.

no. bewray. Cf. ii. 1. 107, ' Show thyself when false
opinion, which now does thee wrong, thinks of thee justly and
recalls thee to reconciliation '.

113. What will hap more, whatever else happens.

170 KING LEAP [Act III Scene 7

Scene 7

The Gloucester plot again supplements the main story. The
villainy of Edmund is at last unmasked, but not before Glou-
cester, like Lear, has suffered by filial treachery. His muti-
lation on the stage has been the subject of much criticism.
Johnson considered it "an act too horrid to be endured in
dramatic exhibition"; and Coleridge declared that "in this
one point the tragic in this play has been urged bejond the
outermost mark and ne plus iiltra of the dramatic". There
is no denying the repulsiveness of the blinding of Gloucester.
It is no extenuation that there are other instances, as several
editors point out, of mutilation on the Elizabethan stage. Yet
it may be urged that a bold and direct treatment of this second
case of barbarity was necessary after the terrible scene on the
heath, as a bare narration of it would not in the circumstances
have conveyed an adequate impression.

10. bound, ready, prepared: as perhaps also in 1. 7.

12. my lord of Gloucester, Edmund's new title (see iii. 5. 14):
purposely contrasted with Oswald's use of the title.

16. questrists, searchers ; not foimd again in Shakespeare.

17. lords dependants. Some editors read lord's dependants^
i.e. Gloucester's dependants. The reading in the text means
lords dependent directly on Lear.

23. pass upon, pass sentence upon. Cf. Measure for Measure^
ii. 1. 19, " The jury, passing on the prisoner's life".
28. corky, shrivelled, withered with age.

38. quicken, come to life.

39. favours, features: 'the features of your host'. See

Glfyssary.

42. simple, straightforward. This is the reading of the
Quartos: the Folios read simple-answer d.

46. set down, written.

53. I am tied to the stake. Cf. Macbeth, v. 7. 1,2:
" They have tied me to a stake: I cannot fly,
But, bear-like, I must fight the course".

The cotirse is a technical term in bear-baiting for each attack
of the dogs: cf. 'round' in boxing, 'bout', &,c.

55, &c. Gloucester is turned to bay.

56. Pluck out his . . . eyes. One of the most striking of
(he many instances of dramatic irony in the play. Gloucester
unwittingly mentions his own fate.

60, stelled, starry. See Glossary.

Act IV Scene i] NOTES 171

62. stern. The Quartos have dearn, —an obsolete word
meaning: 'dark', 'drear', 'dire', — which occurs also in
Pericles, iii. 15.

64. All cruels else subscribed, all their other cruelties
being condoned. Cnicls is an instance of the Elizabethan use
of .'in adjective as a noun : see Kcllner, § 236. Subscribed,
yielded, hence condoned, forgiven: cf. i. 2. 19. The Folios
read subscribe, after which some editors place the second
inverted comma.

86-89. The climax of Gloucester's agony and of Regan's
brut.ility.

88. overture, disclosure.

91. prosper. Cf. the transitive use in iv. 6. 30.

98-106. I '11 never . . . help him. Omitted in the Folios.

100. old, usual, natural.

105. flax and white of eggs, a common application at this
time for wounds.

Act IV— Scene 1

This scene is a direct sequel to the closing passage of the
previous act. The help that Edgar gives to his father, who
is in a sense the cause of the suflcrings of both, is an exact
counterpart to Cordelia's solicitude for Lear.

1. known to be, conscious of being.

6. laughter, i.e. a happy or better condition.

6-9. Welcome . . . blasts. Omitted in the Quartos.

21. Our means secure us, &c. Our resources make us
confident and careless, and our unalloyed defects prove our
benefits. For this common E. E. sense of secure, cf. Othello,
i. 3. 10, "I do not so secure me-in the error"; and for mm-
modities, cf. 2 Henry IV^, \. 2. 278, "I will turn diseases
to commodity ".

23. abused, deceived. Cf. iv. 7. 53, 77, and v. i. 11. This
sense is retained in the negative disabuse.

34. See iii. 4. 133, 134, and 154.

53. daub it further, keep up the disguise.

60. Obidicut, probably suggested by Hoberdicut- one of
Harsnct's fii-nds.

60, 61. Hobbididance. See note, iii. 6. 30.

172 KING LEAR [Act IV

62. mopping and mowing, making grimaces: the two
words are practically synonj'mous. Cf. Tempest, iv. 47,
" Will be here with mop and mow". Malone quotes from
Harsnet, " If she have a little helpe of the mother, epilepsie, or
cramp, to teach her . . . make antike faces, grinne, mow and
mop like an ape, then no doubt the young girle is owleblasled
and possessed".

69. slaves, treats as a slave, makes subservient to his desire.
This passage is Gloucester's counterpart to Lear's utterance
on pomp, iii. 4. 28-36.

Scene 2

The clue to the denouement is now given in the adulterous
love of Goneril for Edmund, and in the conduct of Albany.
When we last saw Albany (i. 4) he appeared in an unfavour-
able light as a passive witness of his wife's schemes, or at best
only able to hint his disapproval; and in this scene Goneril
begins by treating him as a "milk-livered man". But the
monstrous conduct of Goneril awakens him to think for him-
self and to take up firmly a line of his own.

2. Not met us. Cf. 1. 53 and ii. 1. 75.

12. cowish, cowardly.

14. Our wishes, &c. The wishes we expressed on the way
hither may be realized.

28. My fool usurps my body. The reading of the Folio.
There are three distinct retidings of this phrase in the Quartos.
The first Quarto (uncorrected) has " My foot usurps my body ";
the first Quarto (corrected) has " A fool usurps my bed " ; while
the second Quarto reads *' My foot usurps my head".

29. Goneril refers to Albany's indifference to her. This
proverbial expression is given in the Proverbs of John Heyivood,
1546, " It is ... A poor dog that is not worth the whistling"
(ed. Sharman, 1874, p. 76).

31-50. I fear . . . deep. Omitted in the Folios. Also 11. 53-59,
"that not know'st " . . . "does he so?", and 11. 62-69, "Thou
changed" . . . "What news?"

31. fear, fear for. Cf. Richard III, i. i. 137, "his physicians
fear him mightily ".

32. It. Cf. i. 4. 206.

33. border'd certain, contained with certainty.

34. sliver, break off, strip off. Cf. Macbeth, iv. i. 28, "slips
of yew Sliver'd in the moon's eclipse".

39. savour, have a relish for.

Scenes] NOTES 173

42. head-lugg'd, drawn by the head.

50. Milk-liver'd. Cf. ii. 2. 15.

54. villains, &c. Obviously a reference to Lear.

58. moral, nioraiizlng". Cf. the use of moral as a verb in As
You Like It, ii. 7. 29, " I did hear The motley fool thus moral
on the time ".

5o. Proper, its own, innate; deformity, moral deforhiity,
depravity.

62. self-cover'd, i.e. having- tlic self covered, having the
" fiend" covered by the "woman's shape".

63. feature, outward form. See Glossary.
Were 't my fitness, were it fit for me.

65. apt. ready.

63. your manhood! me\y! The uncorrected sheets of the
first Quarto, and the second Quarto, read your manhood no's.', —
a reading- adopted by some editors ; the corrected sheets read
your manhood me^<, — explained as 'suppress, restrain your
manhood'. The reading- in the tciit, your manhood/ 7neiv! is
that g-iven in the second edition of the ' Cambridg^e Shake-
speare' (1891), in accordance with a sug^g-estion in Mr. Daniel's
introduction to the facsimile reprint of the first Quarto (1885).
Here meTV is an interjection of disg^ust and contempt. There
are many contemporary instances of it.

73. remorse, pity, as generally in Shakespeare.

74. bending, turning, directing: cf. ii. i. 46.

79. nether, earthly.

83. One way, in so far as Cornwall has been got out of the
road — an idea to which she reverts in lines 87, 88, "another
way, the news is not so tart ".

85. all the building in my fancy, all my castles in the air:
the fact that she is a widow and that Gloucester is with her
may frustrate all my hopes and make life hateful to me.

90. back, i.e. going back.

Scene 3

This scene is omitted in the Folios. It is accordingly not
essential to the development of the plot. But it stands in
dramatic contrast to the previous scene, while the description
of Cordelias grief on learning what has hajipened is one of
the most beautiful of the gentler passages in the play.

19. Were like, a better way, were like sunshine and rain,

174 KING LEAR [Act IV

but in a more beautiful manner. Several explanations and
emendations of this difficult phrase have been g'iven. War-
burton read "like a wetter May", and Malone "like a better
May"; but neither of these gfives better sense than the original
reading. Many editors omit the comma after ' like'.

31. clamour moisten'd, i.e. tears succeeded her cries of
indig-nation at her sisters. This is Capell's emendation of the
quarto reading, And clamour moistened her.

32-35. A recurrence to the astrological theories expressed
earlier in the play by Gloucester.

34. self, i.e. self-same. Cf. i. i. 62.

42. elbows, jostles, torments ; literally ' thrusts with the
elbow '.

44. foreign casualties, hazards abroad.

51. dear, important. Cf. i. 4. 263 and iii. i. 19.

Scene 4

This scene likewise does not help on the action of the drama;
! but it reintroduces Cordelia, who has not appeared since the
very first scene.

3. fumiter, fumitory. See Glossary.

4. hor-docks, the reading of the Quartos; the Folios have
hnrdokes and hardocks. The plant has not been identified.
Many editions adopt the emendation burdocks.

cuckoo-flowers, a name given to several wild flowers
which bloom when the cuckoo is heard: here probably the
cowslip.

6. century. Generally defined as ' a troop of a hundred
men ', as in Coriolanus, i. 7. 3. But century was an old variant
of sentry — the Nciv English Dictionary cites an example of this
form as late as 1759 — and this is perhaps the meaning of the
word here.

10. helps, cures, a common sense in E. E. and later. Cf.
Tennyson's Lockshy Hall, 1. 105:

" But the jingling of the guinea helps the hurt that Honour
feels ".

15. anguish; used commonly in E.E. of physical as well as
mental suffering. Cf. iv. 6. 6.

26. important, importunate. Cf. Much Ado, ii. i. 74, "if
the prince be too important, tell him there is measure in every
thing ".

Scene 6] NOTES 175

Scene 5

This scene likewise does not advance the plot; but it prepares
us for the denouement by showintf the increasing jealousy Oi'
Goneril and Regan.

13. nighted, benighted, darkened.

18. The fidelity of Oswald to Goneril is the only thing that at
all relieves the utter baseness and blackness of his character.

25. ceillades, amorous glances. See Glossary.

29. take this note, take note of this.

Scene 6

This important scene is divided roughly into three parts.
The first, which contains the famous description of Dover Cliff,
IS a direct continuation of the opening scene of this act; the
second brings into comparison Lear and Gloucester in the
height of their suffering; and the third, unlike the others, is
devoted mainly to the unravelling of the plot.

10. better spoken. See note, i. i. 266.

11. The following criticism of the description of Dover Cliff
was passed bv Johnson: " The description is certainly not mean,
but I am far from thinking it wrought to the utmost excellence
of poetry. He that looks from a precipice finds himself assailed
by one great and dreadful image of irresistible destruction.
But this overwhelming idea is dissipated and enfeebled from
the instant that the mind can restore itself to the observation
of particulars, and diffuse its attention to distinct objects. The
enumeration of the choughs and crows, the samphire-man, and
the fishers, counteracts the great effect of the prospect, as it
peoples the desert of intermediate vacuity, and stops the mind in
the rapidity of its descent through emptiness and horror." A
similar opinion is recorded by Boswell in his Life of Johnson.
"No, Sir; it should be all precipice— all vacuum. The crows
impede your fall. The diminished appearance of the boats, and
other circumstances, are all very good description, but do not
impress the mind at once with the horrible idea of immense
height. The impression is divided; you pass on, by compu-
tation, from one stage of the tremendous space to another."
This criticism amounts simply to a condemnation of the
* romantic ' method of description. The 'classical' manner
for which Johnson here pleads aims at a unity of impression
by means of generalized statements. Avoiding the mention of
particulars, so as noi to give them undue importance or to take
away from the general effect, it leaves these particulars to be
filled in by the reader's imagination. The romantic manner,

176 KING LEAR [Act IV

on the other hand, follows an opposite course, and trusts to
particulars as a means of conveying- the g-eneral impression.
There can be no question which manner is the more vivid in
its effects, and accordingly better suited for the drama. A
generalized description could present only a vague image of
altitude. It would never make us feel the giddy height.

15. samphire, sea-fennel, an herb which grows on cliffs and
is used for pickling. The gathering of samphire was a regular
trade in Shakespeare's time, and Dover Cliff appears to have
been particularly famous for the herb. Cf. Drayton's Poly-
olbion, the Eighteenth So/jg- (Spenser Society Publications, 1889,
p. 300):

" Rob Dovers neighboring cleeues of sampyre, to excite
His dull and sickly taste, and stirre vp appetite ".

The common Elizabethan spelling was sampire (so the Quartos
and Folios).

ig. cock, i.e. cock-boat.

21. unnumber'd, innumerable. Cf. i. i. 253

28. another purse. Sec iv. i. 65.

33, 34. Note the confusion of constructions.

39. My snuff, the useless remnant of my life. The metaphor
is taken from the smoking- wick of a candle.

42, 43. The illusion of death may actually cause death. For
conceit, see Glossary.

46. Edgar here assumes a different character, and pretends
that he has come upon Gloucester at the bottom of the cliff.

47. pass, i.e. pass away. Cf. v. 3. 313.
53. at each, one on the top of the other.

57. bourn, boundary, i.e. to the sea.

58. a-height, i.e. on height, on high, aloft; shrill-gorged,
shrill-lhroatcd.

71. whelk'd, rugged as with whelks.

72. father, a term of address to an old man, though used by
Edgar to insinuate his relationship. See v. 3. 192.

73. clearest, most pure, as frequently in Shakespeare. Cf.
Tempest, iii. 3. 82, "a clear life ".

81. The safer sense, i.e. sanity: safer, sounder, saner.

87, &c. Lear's thought wanders from collecting recruits
v^" press-money ") to archery, then to mouse-catching, then to
battle, then back again to archery and hawking, and then to
sentry duty.

Scene 6] NOTES 177

87, 88. crow -keeper, one who keeps crows off fields. The
comparison to a crow-keeper apj>ears to have been commoM
in dc'.cribing' an awkward archer: cf. Ascham, Toxophiltis
(ed. .\rber, p. 145), ".-Vn other coureth downe, and layeth out
his biittockes, as though he shoulde shoote at crowes ".

88. clothier's yard, a ' cloth-yard shaft ', a common name
for an arrow of the long^-bow. Cf. the ballad of Chevy Chase:

"An arow that a cloth-yarde was lang
To the harde stele halyde he ".

Cf. also the Lay of the Last Minstrel, iv. 15.

91. brown bills, halberds painted brown, used by foot-soldiers.

92. clout, the mark shot at in arcliery. Cf. Love's Labour 's
Lost, iv. 1. 136, " Indeed, a' must shoot nearer, or he'll never hit
the clout ".

97. white hairs, &c., had the wisdom of ag'e while yet a boy.

106. trick, characteristic, peculiarity.

log. What was thy cause ? What were you accused of?

118. piece, equivalent to 'master-piece'. Cf. Tempest, i. 2. 56,
"Thy mother was a piece of virtue", and Antony and Cleopatra,
V. 2. 99, "to imag^ine An Antony, were nature's piece 'gainst
fancy ".

121. squiny, squint, make eyes at. Lear does not yet re-
cognize that Gloucester is blind. He is incapable in his mad-
ness of sympathizing with, or even appreciating, Gloucester's
fate.

129. are you there with me? is that what you mean?

137. handy-dandy. .-V children's game in which the on-
lookers are ask<d to say in which hand an object, that has
frequently been changed from one hand to the other, finally
remains : hence equivalent here to ' choose which you will '.

146-151. Plate sin . . . lips. Omitted in the Quartos.

149. able, warrant, vouch for.

164. The "reason " in Lear's madness is but fitful. He has
no sooner begim to moralize to Gloucester on the folly of this
world than his thoughts again wander.

this', this is.

block, probably the shape of a hat : hence the succeeding
thought, the hat being of felt.

176. a man of salt, i.e. a man of tears. Cf. Hamlet, i. 2.
154, "the salt of most unrighteous tears"; and Coriolanus,
V, 6. 93, " for certain drops of salt ".

189. speed you, i.e. God speed you.

(M90e) il

178 KING LEAR [Act IV Scene 7

191. vulgar, commonly known.

194. the main descry, &c., the appearance of the main body
is hourly expected.

203. art, acquired faculty, experience,
feeling, heart-felt : a quasi-passive sense.

204. pregnant, ready, disposed. Cf. ii. i. 76.

205. biding, i.e. biding--place.

207. To boot, and boot. "By the repetition Gloucester
wishes to convey both meaning's of 'to boot', *iti addition (to my
thanks) ' and ' (the bounty of heaven) be your help ' " (Ht- rford).

208. framed, formed.

210. thyself remember, remember and confess thy sins.

216. Edg'ar adopts the Somersetshire dialect. It is com-
moiilv put into the mouths of rustics in the Elizabethan drama.
C/ii/l is a contraction of ' ich will ', c/iiid of ' ich would ' ; while
the V in viir/Zwr, volk, &c., represents the south-western pro-
nunciation ofy; Che vor _ye stands for 'I warn you', and ise
for ' I shall '.

222. costard, a humorous term for the head, literally a larg-e
kind of apple. Cf. the modern ' nut '.

ballow, cudgel: a dialectal word.

226. foins, thrusts in fencing.

231. British. So the Quartos. The Folios read ' Eng-lish '.
Cf. iii. 4. 172.

239. Leave, by your leave. A similar expression occurs in
Cymhcline, iii. 2. 35, "Good wax, thy leave", and in Twelfth
Alight, ii. 5. 103, "By your leave, wax".

249. servant, a regular term for a lover.

251. undistinguish'd space, undefinable scope. For iindis-
ting-uished =\\n(\\sUn\^\i\s\Mih\v, cf. i. 1. 253.

will, desire.

254. rake up, cover over, bury.

257. death-practised, whose death was plotted. Cf. i. 2. 166.

260. ingenious, sensitive, lively.

Scene 7

This is another of the g-reat scenes of the play. In point of
bearing on the action of the drama, it is less important than
i. 4 or ii. 4, the scenes with which it ranks in dramatic power.
But the play contains no more affecting picture than that of

Act V Scene 1 1 NOTES 179

Cordelia's care for Lear, his restoration to reason in her
presence, and his recognition of her.

6. suited, clothed.

7. memories, memorials: abstract for concrete.

9. Yet, already; my made intent, my plan, intention.

17. child-changed, changed by the conduct of his children.

24. temperance, calmness.

35. perdu. See Glossary.

38. Against, at, before, over against; as commonly in E. E.

42. all, altogether; used adverbially. Cf. i. i. 93.

47. that, so that.

53. abused, deceived. Cf. line 77 and iv. i. 23.

65. mainly, perfectly. See Glossary.

67. nor . . . not, one of the commonest forms in E. E. of
the double negative. Cf. v. 3. 290.

70. " The ' so I am ' of Cordelia gushes from her heart like
a torrent of tears, relieving it of a weight of love and of sup-
posed ingratitude which had pressed upon it for years "
(Hazlitt).

80. even o'er, account for, fill in fully, remember clearly.
The metaphor is apparently from the language of accountants.
Craig compares Macbeth, v. 8. 60 62 :

" We shall not spend a large expense of time
Before we reckon with your several loves,
And make us even with you ".

85-97. Holds it true . . . fought. Omitted in the Folios,
like the concluding lines of iii. 7.

gi. It will be remembered that Kent had declared his inten-
tion to " sliape his old course in a country new " (i. 1. 181).

96. period, end aimed at. Cf. Henry VIII, i. 2. 209,
" There 's his period, To sheathe his knife in us ".

Act V— Scene 1

This scene is a preparation for the catastrophe. It shows
how the evil-doers are hastening to their destruction. What-
ever Albany's sympathy for Lear, he has to oppose the French
invasion; but his life is plotted against by Edmund, whose
patriotism is subordinate to his ambition to assume the

i8o KING LEAR [Act V

supreme power; and Goneril and Regfan are now so bitterly
divided bj' jealousy of Edmund that the issue of" the battle is
to them of secondary interest.

4. constant pleasure, fixed, final resolve. Cf. i. 1. 36.

13. bosom'd, in her confidence. Cf. iv. 5. 26.

as far as we call hers, as far as anything- is hers, to the
utmost.

16. Fear, doubt. Cf. iii. i. 47, and contrast iii. 5. 3 and
iv. 2. 31.

23. Where I could not be honest, &c. In these words Albany
g-ives the explanation of his weakness at the beginning- of the
play. But he is not the weak character that Goneril thought
him, or that he is so often said to be.

26. holds, emboldens: "not in so far as France emboldens
{i.e. supports) the king".

32. ancient of war, experienced soldiers, veterans.

36. convenient, befitting, expedient.

50. o'erlook, i.e. 'look o'er'. Cf. i. 2. 33.

54. greet the time, meet the occasion.

56. jealous, suspicious.

61. carry out my side, succeed in m}- plan, win my object.
The metaphor is taken from games. Mason quotes from Mas-
sing-er's Great Duke of Florence (iv. 2):

" If I hold your cards, I shall pull down the side;
I am not good at the g-ame".

68. Shall, i.e. they shall. Cf. i. i. 204.

69. Stands on me, requires me. See note, iii. 6. 93.

Scene 2

Mr. Spedding suggested {New Shakspere Societys Transac-
tions, 1877-79, pt. i) that the acts of King Lear have been
wrongly divided, and that the fourth act ends at the fourth line
of this scene. According to his arrangement, the battle would
take place between the fourth and fifth acts. He was prompted
to this suggestion by IIk- unsatisfactory descrijjtion of the battle
compared with other similar d(!scriptions in Siiakespeare. " In
other cases a few skilful touches bring the whole battle before
us — a few rapid shiflings from one part of the field to another,
a few hurried greetings of friend or foe, a few short passages
of struggle, ])ursuit, or escape, give us token of the conflict
which is raging on all sides; and, when the hero falls, we feel
that his army is defeated. A page or two does it; but it is

Scene 3] NOTES 181

done." But in this scene "the army so long- looked for, and
on which everything depends, passes over the stage, and all
our hopes and' sympathies go with it. Four lines are spoken.
The scene does not change; but 'alarums' are heard, and
'afterwards a retreat", and on the same field over which that
great army has this moment passed, fresh and full of hope,
reappears, with tidings that all is lost, the same man who last
left the stage to follow and fight in it. " The suggested re-
arrangement is plausible, for it would remove the defects
alluded to without altering a word of the text. But there is
nothing to show that the scene is not as Shakespeare left it.
.\ t'uller description of the battle would have tended to divert
the attention from the main interest of the story. Indeed the
dramatic purpose would have been as adequately fulfilled by
a bare narration of the result of the battle. Moreover, the
circumstances of the play demand the sympathy of the audi-
ence for the French army rather than the British, and the
sturdy Elizabethan patriotism probably weighed with Shake-
speare in making the description so meagre.

II. Ripeness, readiness. Cf. Hamlet, v. 2. 234, "if it be
not now, yet it will come; the readiness is all ".

Scene 3

"The wheel is come full circle. " All the chief characters,
who, contrary to Shakespeare's general custom, had been
brought on to the stage at the very beginning of the play to
participate in an event on which the whole play turns, re-
appear in this last scene to " taste the wages of their virtue
and the cup of their deservings ". The denouement, as in so
many of Shakespeare's plays, is rapidly achieved, and some-
what resembles, with its bustle and wealth of incident, the
closing scene oi Hamlet; and, as in Hamlet, the guiltless fall
with the guilty.

2. their greater pleasures, the wills of these greater persons.

3. censure, pass sentence on. Cf. iii. 5. 2.
z8. packs, confederacies. Cf. iii. i. 26.

23. fire us hence like foxes ; alluding to the practice of
smoking foxes out of their holes.

24. good-years. See Glossary.

35. write happy, call yourself happy. Cf. AlVs Well, ii. 3. 208,
" I must tell ihcc, sirrah, I write man".

49. To pluck . . . side, to win the affection of tho common
people.

50. impress'd, pressed into our service; lances, i.e. lancers.

i82 KING LEAR [Act V

65. immediacy, close connection with notiiing intervening,
i.e. direct tenure of authority.

68. addition, title. Cf. i. 1. 129.

72. That eye, &c. " Alluding- to the proverb: 'Love being-
jealous makes a g-ood eye look asquint' " (Steevens).

74. stomach. The stomach was supposed to be the seat of
ang-er, as the liver was of courage (ii. 2. 15). Cf. Titus An-
droniats, iii. i. 234, "To ease their stomachs with their bitter
tongues".

76. the walls are thine ; apparently a metaphor signifying
complete surrender. Wright thinks the words refer to Regan's
castle, mentioned in line 245. Theobald conjectured "they are
all thine".

79. The let-alone, the prohibition.

As events prove, Goneril has already taken means to frus-
trate Regan's wishes.

83. attaint, impeachment. See Glossary.

103. virtue, valour, as frequently in E. E. Cf. Latin virtus.

124. cope, commonly used transitively in E. E., as here.

129. I.e. It is my privilege, as I am a knight, to engage you,
who are a traitor.

132. fire-new, brand-new; fresh from the fire or forge.

137. descent, "that to which one descends, the lowest part";
the only known instance of this use.

138. toad-spotted, treasonable as the toad is spotted.

143. say. See Glossary.

144. nicely. See Glossary.

Edmunds character is not all bad. He could have refused
to fight a nameless antagonist, but he manfully will not avail
himself of this excuse. His subsequent statement, "Some
good I mean to do, despite of mine own nature", is not out
of keeping with his character, as it would have been with
Goneril's or Regan's. Great as is his villainy, he had to
some extent been prompted to it by the disabilities which he
incurred by his birth and the taunts he had to suffer even
from his father.

147. hell-hated, hated like hell.

151. Save him, save him! Albany is anxious not to have
Edmund killed on tin- spot, so that his guilt may be made
known before his death.

practice, false plajs treachery. Cf. i. 2. 166.

160. Ask me not, &c. The Folios assign this speech to

Scene 3] NOTES 183

Edmund, the Quartos give it to Goneril, and modern editors
are divided in tlieir choice. Those who follow tht- Folios ask
why the question. " Know'st thou this paper?" should be
addressed to Cioneril, coiisiderinj;^ Albany has already said
to her, " I perceive you know it ". But this objection is not
conclusive.

194. success, issue, result. Cf. i. 2. 129.

196. flaw'd, broken. Cf. ii. 4. 282.

204-221. This would . . . slave. Omitted in the Folios.

204. period, termination: note the different sense in iv. 7. 96.

205. but another, &c. ; but another story, amplifyiiij^ what
is already too much, would make what is much even more, and
so pass the extreme limits.

234. manners, treated as a singular; but contrast i. 4. 160
and iv. 6. 230.

235. It is fitting- that at this juncture allention should be
drawn to Lear by Kent, who at the beginning of the play had
professed his constant devotion to the king.

255. fordid, destroyed. Cf. line 291.

262. stone, a crystal mirror.

263. the promised end, of the world. Mason compares
S. Mark, xiii. 12 and 19. For image of that horror, cf. Macbeth,
ii- 3- 83, " up, up, and see The great doom's image ! "

285. Lear's thoughts again begin to wander. He cannot
realize what Kent's devotion has been, and even the announce-
ment of Regan's and Goncril's death has no effect.

288. your first of difference, beginning of your change.
2go. Nor no man else, i.e. No, nor is any other man
welcome.
301. boot, increase, enhancement.

305. poor fool, i.e. Cordelia: a common term of endearment.
Some (e.g. Sir Joshua Reynolds) think that Lear refers to his
Fool: but the Fool was not 'hanged'; he has long since passed
out of the play (iii. 6); and it is not likely that Lear would
think of him when dying for grief at the death of Cordelia.

313. pass. Cf. iv. 6. 47.

322. My master, i.e. Lear. Kent's devotion is unbroken.

323, &c. This concluding speech is given in the Quartos to
Albany, in the Folios to Edgar. It is assigned more fittingly to
the latter.

APPENDIX A

THE SOURCES OF THE PLOT

The Lear story is here given as told by Raphael Holln-
shed in his Chronicles (1577; second edition, 1587), by
Hig-gins in the Mirror for Magistrates (1574), and by
Spenser in the Faerie Queene (1590), and is followed by
the passage in Sidney's Arcadia (1590) which is the
undoubted original of the Gloucester story.

\. Holinshed's Chronicles. — The Historie of Britain,
book ii, ch. 5: second edition/ 1587, pp. 12, 13.

Leir the sonne of Baldud was admilted ruler ouer the Britaines in
the yeare of the world 3105, at what time Joas reigned in Juda. This
Leir was a prince of right noble demeanor, gouerning his land and
subiects in great wealth. He made the towne of Caerleir now called
Leicester, which standeth vpon the riuer of Sore. It is written that he
had by his wife three daughters without other issue, whose names were
Gonorilla, Regan, and Cordcilla, which daughters he greatly loued,
but specially Cordeilla the yoongest farre aboue the two elder. When
this Leir therefore was come to great yeres, and began to waxe vn-
weldie through age, he thought to vnderstand the affections of his
daughters towards him, and prefcrre hir whonie he best loued, to the
succession ouer the kingdome. Whervpon he first asked Gonorilla the
eldest, how well she loued him : who calling hir gods to record, pro-
tested that she loued him more than hir owne life, which by right and
reason should be most deere vnto hir. With which answer the father
being well pleased, turned to the second, and demanded of hir how
well she loued him: who answered (confirming hir saiengs with great
othes) that she loued him more than toong could expresse, and farre
aboue all other creatures of the w'orld.

Then called he his yoongest daughter Cordeilla before him, and
asked of hir what account she made of him, vnto whonie she made
this answer as followeth : " Knowing the great loue and fatherlie zeale
that you haue alwaies borne tow-ards me (for the which I niaie not
answere you otherwise than I thinke, and as my conscience leadeth me)
I protest vnto you, that I haue loued you euer, and shall continuallie
(while I hue) loue you as my naturall father. And if you would more

^ The evidence of other plays shows that Shakespeare used the second edition :
see Shakspere's Holinshed, The Chronicle ami the Historical Flays compared.
By ly. C. Boswcll-Stoite. 1896.

184

APPENDIX A i8s

vnderstand of the loue that I beare you, assertaine your selfe, that so
iiiucli as you haue, so much you are worth, and so much I loue you,
and no more." The father being nothing content with this answere,
married his two eldest daughters, the one vnio Henninus the duke of
Cornewali, and the other vnto Maglanus the duke of Albania, betwixt
whome he willed and ordeined that his land should be deuided after
his death, and the one halfe thereof immediatelie should be assigned
to them in hand: but for the third daughter Cordeilla he reserued
nothing.

Nevertheless it fortuned that one of the princes of Gallia (which now
is called France) whose name was Aganippus, hearing of the beautie,
womanhood, and good conditions of the said Cordeilla, desired to haue
hir in manage, and sent ouer to hir father, requiring that he might
haue hir to wife: to whome answer was made, that he might liaue
his daughter, but as for anie dower he could haue none, for all w;is
promised and assured to hir other sisters already. Aganippus not-
withstanding this answer of deniall to receiue anie thing by way of
dower with Cordeilla, tooke hir to wife, onlie moued thereto (1 saie)
for respect of hir person and amiable vertues. This Aganippus was
one of the twelue kings that ruled Galha in those daies, as in the British
historie it is recorded. But to proceed.

After that Leir was fallen into age, the two dukes that had married
his two eldest daughters, thinking it long yer the gouernment of the
land did come to their hands, arose against him in armour, and reft from
him the gouernance of the land, vpon conditions to be continued for
terme of life : by the which he was put to his portion, that is, to liue
after a rate assigned to him for the maintenance of his estate, which in
processe of time was diminished as well by Maglanus as by Henninus.
But the greatest griefe that Leir tooke, was to see the vnkindnesse of his
daughters, which seemed to thinke that all was too much which their
father had, the same Ijeing neuer so little : in so muche that going from
the one to the other, he was brought to that miserie, that scarslie they
would allow him one seruaunt to wait vpon him.

In the end, such was the vnkindnesse, or (as I maie saie) the
vnnaturalnesse which he found in his two daughters, notwithstanding
their faire and pleasant words vttered in time past, that being con-
streined of necessitie, he fled the land. & sailed into Gallia, there to
seeke some comfort of his yongest daughter Cordeilla, whom before
time he hated. The ladie Cordeilla hearing that he was arriued in
pKX»re estate, she first sent to him priuilie a certeine summe of monie to
apparell himselfe withall, and to reteine a certeine nunib<-r of seruants
that might attend vpon him in honorable wise, as apperteined to the
estate which he had borne : and then so accompanied, she appwinted
him to come to the court, which he did, and was so ioifullie, honorablie,
and louinglie receiued, lx)th by his sonne in law Aganippus, and also
by his daughter Cordeilla, that his hart was greathe comforted: for
he was no lesse honored, than if he had beene king of the whole
countrie himselfe

Now when he had informed his sonne in law and his daughter in
what sort he had beene vsed by his other daujjhters. .\ganippus caused
a mightie armie to be put in a readinesse, and likewise a great nauie of
ships to be rigged, to passe oner into Britaine with Leir his father in
law, to see him ag<une restored to his kingdome. It was accorded, that

iS6

KING LEAR

Cordeilla should also go with him to take possession of the land, the
which he promised to leaue vnto hir, as the rightfull inheritour after
his decesse, notwithstanding any former grant made to hir sisters or to
their husbands in anie maner of wise.

Herevpon, when this armie and nauie of ships were readie, Leir and
his daughter Cordeilla with hir husband tooke the sea, and arriuing in
Hritaine, fought with their enimie.s, and discomfited them in battell, in
the which ^iaglanus and Ilenninus were slaine: and then was Leir
restored to his kingdonie, which he ruled after tliis by the space of two
yeeres, and then died, fortie yeeres after he first began to reigne. His
bodie was buried at Leicester in a vaut vnder the chanell of the riuer of
Sore beneath the towne.

The Sixt 6'/!rf//tv'.— Cordeilla the yoongest daughter of Leir was
admitted Q. and supreme gouernesse of Britaine in the yeere of the
world 3155, before the byldmg of Rome 54; Uzia was then reigning in
Juda, and Jeroboam ouer Israeli. This Cordeilla after hir fathers
deccasse ruled the land of Britaine right worthilie during the space of
hue yeeres, in which meane time hir husband died, and then about the
end of those fiue yeeres, hir two nephewes Margan and Cunedag,
sonnes to hir aforesaid sisters, disdaining to be vnder the gouernment
of a woman, leuied warre against hir, and destroied a great part of
the land, and finallie tooke hir prisoner, and laid hir fast in ward,
wherewith she tooke suche griefe, being a woman of a manlie courage,
and despairing to recouer lihcrtie, there she slue hirselfe, when she had
reigned (as before is mentioned) the tearme of fiue yeeres.

n. The Mirror for Magistrates. — From the story of
Qiieene Cordila, written by John Higgins: ed. Haslfwood,
1815, vol. i, pp. 124-132.

6. My grandsirc Bladud hight, that found the bathes by skill,
A fethered King that practis'd high to soare,

Whereby hee felt the fall, God wot against his will.

And neuer went, road, raygnd, nor spake, nor flew no more.

After whose death my father Lclrc therefore

Was chosen King, by right apparent hey re,

Which after built the towne of Leircestere.

7. Hee had tince daughters, first andeld'st hight Go/icrell,
Next after her his yonger Kagan was begot:

The third and last was I the yongest, nam'd Corddl.

Vs all our father Atv'^-fdid loue to well, God wot.

But minding her that lou'd him best to note,
Because hee had no sonne t'enioy his land,
Hee thought to guerdon most where fauour most hee fand.

8. What though I yongest were, yet men mee iudg'd more wise
Than either Goncrcll or Ragan more of age,

And fairer farre; wherefore my sisters did despise
My grace and giefts, and sougiit my wrecke to wage.
Biit yet though vice on vertue dye with rage.
It cannot keepe her vnderneath to drowne:
For still she flittes aboue, and reaps renowne.

APPENDIX A 187

9. My father thought to wed vs vnto princely peeres,
And vnto them and theirs deuide and part the land.
For Iwth my sisters first hee cald (as first their yeares
Requir'd), their minds, and loue, and fauoure t'vnderstand.
(Quoth hcc) all doubts of duty to ahand,

I must assay your friendly failhes to proue:
My daughters, tell mee how you doe mee loue.

10. Which when they aunswerd him they lou'd their father more
Then they themselucs did loue, or any worldly wight,

He praised them, and sayd hee would therefore
The louing kindnes they descru'd in line requite.
So found my sisters fauour in his sight.

By flattery faire they won their fathers heart;

Which after turned hym and mee to smai-t.

11. Hut not content with this, hee asked mee likewise
If 1 did not him loue and honour well.

No cause (quoth I) there is I should your grace despise:
For nature so doth binde and duty mee conipell
To loue you, as I ought my father, well.

Yet shortely I may chaunce, if I'ortune will,

To finde in heart to beare another more good will.

12. Thus much I sayd of nuptiall loues that nient.
Not minding once of hatred vile or ire.

And partly ta.xing them, for which intent
They set my fathers heart on wrathfull fire.
" Shee neuer shall to any part aspire

Of this my realme (quoth hee) among'st you twayne:

But shall without all dowry aie remaine."

13. Then to Ma^laurus Prince, with .Albany hee gaue
My sister Gont'rcll, the eldest of vs all :

And eke my sister Rai^'an to Hhiniiie to haue,
And for her dowry Camber and Connuull.
These after him should haue his Kingdome all.

Betweene them both hee gaue it franke and free.

But nought at all hee gaue of dowry mee.

14. .At last it chaunst a Prince of Frainuc' to heare my fame.
My beauty braue. my wit was blaz'd abroad ech where.
My noble vertues j^rais'd mee to my fathers blame,
Who difl for flattery nice Icssc friendly fauour bearc.
Which when this worthy Prince (I say) did heare,

Hee sent anibassage, lik'd mee more then life,
And soone obtayned mee to bee his wife.

15. Prince Aganippus reau'd mee of my woe,

.A.nd that for venues sake, of dowryes all the best :
So I contented was to Frauiice my father fro
For to depart, and hoapt t'enioy some greater rest.
Where liuing well l)cIou'd, my ioyes encreast:

I gate more fauour in that Prince his sight,

Then euer Princesse of a Princely wight.

i88 KING LEAR

i6. But while that I these ioyes so well enioy'd in Fraunce,
My father Leire in Britaync waxt unweldy old.
Whereon his daughters more themselues aloft t'aduance
Desir'd the Realnie to rule it as they wolde.
Their former loue and friendship waxed cold,
Their husbands rebels voyde of reason f|uite
Rose vp, rebeld, bereft his crowne and right:

17. Caus'd him agree they might in parts equall
Deuide the Realnie, and proniist him a gard
Of sixty Knights on him attending still at call.
But in six monthes such was his hap to hard,
That Gonerell of his retinue barde

The halfe of them, slice and her husband reft,
And scarce alow'd the other halfe they left.

18. Eke as in Albany lay hee lamenting fates,

. When as my sister so sought all his vtter spoyle :
The meaner vpslart courtiers thought themselues his mates,
His daughter him disdayn'd and forced not his foyle.
Then was hee fayne for succoure his to toyle

With halfe liis trayne to Cornwall, there to lie
In greatest neede, his Kagans loue to try.

19. So when hee came to Cornwall, shee with ioy
Receiued him, and Prince Maglaurus did the like.
There hee abode a yeare, and liu'd without anoy:
But then they tooke all his retinue from him quite
Saue only ten, and shew'd him daily spile:

Which he bewayl'd complayning durst not striue,
Though in disdayne they last alow'd but fiue.

20. What more despite could deuelish beasts deuise,
Then ioy their fathers woefull days to see?
What vipers vile could .so their King despise,
Or so vnkinde, so curst, so cruell bee?

From thence agayn hee went to Albany,

Where they bereau'd his seruants all saue one,
Bad him content him selfe with that, or none.

21. Eke at what time hee ask'd of them to haue his gard,
To gard his noble grace where so hee went :

Thev cal'd him doting foole, all his requests debard,
Deniaunding if with life hee were not well content :
Then hee to late his rigour did repent

Gavnst mee, my sisters' fawning loue that knew,
Found flattery false, that seemd so faire in vew.

22.

To make it short, to Fraunce hee came at last to mee,
And told mee how my sisters eucll their father vsde.
Then humbly I besought my noble King so free.
That he would aide my father thus by his abusde :
Who nought at all my humble liest refusde.

But sent to euery coast of Fraunce for aide.
Whereby King Leire might home bee well conueyde.

APPENDIX A 189

23. The souldiours gathered from ech quarter of the land
Came at the length to know the noble Princes will:
Who did commit tliem vnto captaynes euery band,
And 1 likewise of loue and reucront meere good will
Desir'd my Lord, he would not take it ill

If I departed for a space withall.

To take a part, or ease my father's thrall.

24. Hee granted my request: Thence wee ariued here,
And of our Britaynes came to aide likewise his right
Full many subiects, good and stout that were:

By martiall feats, and force, by subiects sword and might,
The British Kings were fayne to yeeld our right:

Which wonne, niy father well this Realme did guide
Three yeares in peace, and after that hee dyde.

III. Spenser's ' Faerie Queene '. — Book ii, canto x, 27-32.

27. Next him king Leyr in happie peace long raynd.
But had no issue male him to succeed.

But three faire daughters, which were well uptraind
In all that seemed fitt for kingly seed ;
Mongst whom his realme he equally decreed
To have divided. Tho when feeble age
Nigh to his utmost date he saw proceed,
He cald his daughters, and with speeches sage
Inquyrd, which of them most did love her parentage.

28. The eldest, Gonorill, gan to protest,

That she much more than her owne life him lov'd ;
And Regan greater love to him profest
Then all the world, when ever it were proov'd;
But Cordeill said she lov'd him as behoov'd :
Whose simple answere, wanting colours fayre
To paint it forth, him to displeasaunce moov'd,
That in his crowne he counted her no hayre,
But twixt the other twaine his kingdom whole did shayre.

20. So wedded th'one to Maglan King of Scottes,
And thother to the king of Cambria,
And twi.\t them shayrd his realme by equall lottes;
But without dowre the wise Cordelia
Was sent to Aggannip of Celtica.
Their aged syrc, thus eased of his crowne,
A private life led in .Mbania
With Gonorill, long h.ad in great renowne,
That nought him griev'd to beene from rule deposed downe.

30. But true it is that, when the oyle is spent.

The light goes out. and weeke is throwne away;
So when he had resignd his regiment.
His daughter gan despise his drouping day,
And wcirie wax of his continuall stay.
Tho to his daughter Regan he repayrd,
■Who him at tirst well used every \\.\y\
But when of his departure she despayrd,
Her bountie she abated, and his cheare empayrd.

I90 KING LEAR

31. The wretched man gan then avise too late,
That love is not where most it is profest;
Too truely tryde in his extremest state.

At last resolv'd likewise to prove the rest,
He to Cordelia him selfe addrest,
Who with ontyre affection him receav'd,
As for her syre and king her seemed best;
And after all an army strong she leav'd,
To war on those which him had of his realme bereav'd.

32. So to his crowne she him restor'd againe,

In which he dyde, made ripe for death by eld.
And after wild it should to her remaine :
Who peacefully the same long time did weld,
And all mens harts in dew obedience held;
Til! that her sisters children, woxen strong.
Through proud auibition against her rebeld,
And overconmien kept in prison long,
Till weary of that wretched life her selfe she hong.

IV. Sidney's 'Arcadia'. — Book ii, ch. 10: ed. 1590,
fol. 142-144.

The pitifull state, and storie of the Paphlagoiiian zmkinde King, and
his kind sotine, first related by the son, then by the blind father.

It was in the kingdome of Galacia, the season being (as in the depth
of winter) very cold, and as then sodainely growne to so e.\treame and
foule a storme, that neuer any winter (I thinke) brought foorlh a
fowler child: so that the Princes were euen compelled by the haile, that
the pride of the winde blew into their faces, to seeke some shrowding
place within a certaine hollow rocke offering it vnto them, they made
it their shield against the tempests furie. .And so staying there, till the
violence therof was passed, they heard the speach of a couple, who
not perceiuing them (being hidde within that rude canapy) helde a
straunge and pitifull disputation which made them steppe out; yet in
such sort, as they might see vnseenc. There they perceaued an aged
man, and a young, scarcely come to the age of a man, both poorely
arayed, extreamel}' weather-beaten ; the olde man blinde, the young
man leading him : and yet through all those miseries, in both these
seemed to appeare a kind of nobknesse, not sutable to that affliction.
But the first words they heard, were these of the old man. \^'ell
l.eonatus (said he) since; I cannot perswade thee to lead me to tliat
which should end my griefe, & thy trouble, let me now entreat thee
to leaue me : feare not, my miserie cannot be greater then it is, &
nothing doth become me but miserie; feare not the danger of my
blind steps, I cannot fall worse then I am. And doo not I pray thee,
doo not obstinately continue to infect thee with my wretchednes.
Rut flie, fhe from this region, onely worthy of me. Deare father
(answered he) doo not take away from me the onely remnant of my
happinesse : while I haue power to doo you seruice, I am not wholly
miserable. Ah my sonne (said he, and with that he groncd, as if
sorrow straue to breake liis liearte) how euill fits it me to haue such a
Sonne, and how much doth thy kindnesse vpbraide my wickednesse?
These dolefull speeches, and some others to like purpose (well shewing

APPENDIX A 191

they had not bene borne to the fortune they were in,) nioued the
Princes to goe out vnto iheni, and aske the younger what they were?
Sirs (answered he, with a good grace, anil made the more agreabie by
a certaine noble kinde of piliousnes) I see well you are stcaungers, that
know not our miserie so well here knowne, that no man dare know, but
that we must be miserable. In deede our state is such, as though
nothing is so ncedfuU vnto vs as pittie, yet nothing is more daimgerous
vnto vs, then to make our selues so knowne as may stirre pittie. But
your presence promiseth, that cruelty shall not ouer-runne hate. And
if it did, in truth our state is soncke below the degree of feare.

This old man (whom I leade) was lately rightfuU Prince of this
countrie of Paphlagonia, by the hard-hearted vngratefulnes of a sonne
of his, depriueid, not onely of his kingdome (wherof no forraine forces
were euer able to sfxjyle him) but of his sight, the riches which Nature
graunts to the poorest creatures. Whereby, & by other his vnnaturall
dealings, he hath bin driuen to such griefe, as euen now he would liaue
had me to haue led him to the toppe of this rocke, thence to cast him-
selfe headlong to death : and so would haue made me (who receiued
my life of him) to be the worker of his destruction. But noble Gentle-
men (said he) if either of you haue a father, and feele what duetifull
affection is engraffed in a sonnes hart, let me intreate you to conuey
this afflicted Prince to some place of rest & securitie. Amongst your
worthie actes it shall be none of the least, that a King, of such might
and fame, and so vniustly oppressed, is in any sort by you relieued.

But before they could make him answere, his father began to
speake. Ah my sonne (said he) how euill an Historian are you, that
leaue out the chiefe knotte of all the discourse? my wickednes, my
wickcdnes. And if thou doest it to spare my eares, (the onely sense
nowe left me prof)er for knowledge) assure thy selfe thou dost mistake
me. And I take witnesse of that Sunnc which you see (with that he
cast vp his blinde eyes, as if he would hunt for light,) and wish my
selfe in worse case then I do wish my selfe, which is as euill as may be,
if I speake vntruly; that nothing is so welcome to my thoughts, as the
publishing of my shame. Therefore know you Gentlemen (to whom
from my harte I wish that it may not proue ominous foretoken 01
misfortune to haue metle with such a miser as I am) that whatsoeuer
my Sonne (6 Gotl, that trueth binds me to reproch him with the name
of my Sonne) hath said, is true. But lx>sides those truthes, this also is
true, that hauing had in lawful mariage, of a mother fitte to beare
royall children, this sonne (such one as partly you see, and better shall
knowe by my shorte declaration) and so enioyed the expectations in the
world of him, till he was growen to iustifie their expectations (so as I
needed ^-nuie no father for the chiefe comfort of mortalitie, to leaue
an other ones-selfe after me) I was caried by a bastarde sonne of mine
(if at least I be liounde to beleeue the words of that base woman my
concubine, his mother) first to mislike, then to hate, lastly to destroy,
to doo my best to destroy, this sonne (I thinke you thinke) vndeseruing
destruction. What waies he vscd to bring me to it, if I should tell
you, I should tediously trouble you with as much poy.sonous hypocrisie,
desjjerate fraude, smoothe malice, hidden ambition, &. smiling enuie, as
in anic liuing person could be harbored. But I list it not, no remem-
brance, (no, of naughtines) delights me, but mine own ; & me thinks,
the accusing his traines might in some manner excuse my fault, which
certainly I lotli to doo. But the conclusion is, that I gaue order to

192 KING LEAR

some seruants of mine, whom I thought as apte for such charities as
my selfe, to leade him out into a forrest, & there to kill him.

But those theeues (better natured to my sonne then my selfe) spared
his life, letting him goe, to learne to liue poorely : which he did,
giuing himselfe to be a priuate souldier, in a countrie here by. But as
he was redy to be greatly aduanced for some noble peeces of seruice
which he did, he hearde newes of me: who (dronke in my affection to
that vnlawfull and vnnaturall sonne of mine) suffered my self so to be
gouerned by him, that all fauours and punishments passed by him, all
offices, and places of importance, distributed to his fauorites; so that
ere I was aware, I had left my self nothing but the name of a King :
which he shortly wearie of too, with many indignities (if any thing may
be called an indignity, which was laid vpon me) threw me out of my
seat, and put out my eies; and then (proud in his tyrannic) let me goe,
nether imprisoning, nor killing me: but rather delighting to make
me feele my miserie; miserie indeed, if euer there were any; full of
wretchednes, fuller of disgrace, and fullest of guiltines. And as he
came to the crowne by so vniust meanes, as vniustlie he kept it, by
force of stranger souldiers in Cittadels, the nestes of tyranny, &
murderers of libertie; disarming all his own countrimen, that no man
durst shew himself a wel-willer of mine: to say the trueth (I think) few
of them being so (considering my cruell follie to my good sonne, and
foolish kindnes to my vnkinde bastard :) but if there were any who fell
to pitie of so great a fall, and had yet any sparkes of vnstained duety
Icfte in them towardes me, yet durst they not shewe it, scarcely with
giuing me almes at their doores ; which yet was the onelie sustenance
of my distressed life, no bodie daring to shewe so much charitie, as to
lende me a hande to guide my darke steppes: Till this sonne of mine
(God knowes, woorthie of a more vertuous, and more fortunate father)
forgetting my abhominable wrongs, not recking daunger, & neglecting
the present good way he was in doing himselfe good, came hether to
doo this kind office you see him perfonne towards me, to my vnspeak-
ablc griefe ; not onely because his kindnes is a glasse euen to my blind
eyes, of my naughtines, but that abouc all griefes, it greeues me he
should desperatly aducnture the losse of his soul-deseruing life for mine,
that yet owe more to fortune for my deserts, as if he would cary mudde
in a chest of christall. For well I know, he that now raigneth, how
much soeuer (and with good reason) he despiseth me, of all men
despised ; yet he will not let slippe any aduantage to make away him,
whose iust title (ennobled by courage and goodnes) may one day shake
the soate of a neuer secure tyrannic. And for this cause I craned of
him to leade me to the toppe of this rocke, indcede I must confesse,
with meaning to free him from so serpentine a companion as I am.
But he finding what I purposed, onely therein since he was borne,
shewed himselfe disobedient vnto me. And now Gentlemen, you haue
the true storie, which I pray you publish to the world, that my mis-
chieuous proceedings may be the glorie of his filiall pietie, the onely
reward now left for so great a merite. And if it may be, let me obtaine
that of you, which my sonne denies me: for neuer was there more pity
in sauing any, then in enrling me; both because therein my agonies
shall encie, and so shall you preserue this excellent young man, who els
wilfully folowes his owne ruine.

APPENDIX B

NOTE ON THE METRE OF KING LEAR^

I. Blank Verse. — The normal verse consists of ten syl-
lables alternately stressed and unstressed, beginning with
an unstressed syllable, without rhyme (hence called ' blank
verse'), and with a sense pause at the end of the line, e.g. —

He raised' the house' with loud' and cow'ard cries' (ii. 4. 42).
Return' to her' and fifty men' dismiss'd'? (ii. 4. 204).

As the line contains five feet each of two syllables, and
each stressed on the second syllable, it is commonly called
an 'iambic pentameter'.

II. Normal Variations. — A succession of such lines, how-
ever, would be monotonous. Accordingly there are several
variations in the rhythm.

(i) Stress Inversion. — Tlie normal order oi non-stress and
stress may be inverted. K-g- in the various feet :
(i) Why' have i my sisters husbands, if they say (i. i. 92).

(2) But love, I dear' love, ; and our aged father's right (iv. 4. 28).

(3) Which I must act: ] briefness | and fortune, work! (ii. i. 18).

(4) Let me beseech your grace | not' to | do so (ii. 2. 134).

(5) Though I condenm not, yet, under | par' don (i. 4. 334).

This inversion occurs commonly after a pause, and is
thus found most frequently in the first, third, and fourth
feet, i.e. after the pauses at the beginning or centre of the
line. It is seldom found in the second foot, and it is verj'
rare in the fifth foot. When it occurs in the fifth foot the
effect is generally unrhythmical.

There are occasionally two inversions in the same line,
e.g.—

(i, 4) Broth'er | a word; descend: | brotii'er, | I say! (ii. i. 19).
(i, 4) Bold' in I the quarrel's right, | roused' to | the encounter

(ii. I. 54).
(i, 3) None' does | offend, | none,' I | say, none; I'll able em

(iv. 6. 149).

Two inversions rarely come together, as in i. 4. 334,

> This note h.-is been largely suggested by the " Outline of Shakespeare's
Prosody " in Professor Herford's Richard II.

(M906) 193 N

194 KING LEAR

(ii) Stress Variation. — The stresses may vary in degree;
a weak or intermediate stress (') may be substituted for a
strong stress.

And dare, | upon* | the war | rant of | my note (iii. i. i8).

The weak stress is particularly common in the fifth foot,
e.g.—

Which else were shame, that then neces | sity^ (i. 4. 202).

There are, in fact, comparatively few lines with the normal
five strong stresses. But there are certain limits to the
variations ; e.g: there are never more than two weak-
stressed feet in a line, and two weak-stressed feet rarely
come together (see, however, iii. 4. 15). Frequently the
absence of a strong stress in a foot is made up for by
. {a) two weak stresses, as —
Prith'ee | go* in^ | thyself; seek thine own ease (iii. 4. 23);

or {b) an additional stress in a neighbouring foot,
either before or after, as —

Both' wel' I come and* | protection. Take up thy master (iii. 6. 90).
The les | ser is* | scarce' felt'. \ Thou 'Idst shun a bear (iii. 4. 9).

Two strong stresses are fairly common in the fifth foot,
e.g.—

Although I the last | not least, ] to whose | young' love'.

(Cf. i. I. 139, iii. 2. 37, iv. 6. 164.)

(iii) Addition oj Unstressed Syllables. — An unstressed
syllable is frequently added. It may be introduced in any
foot, which then corresponds to an anapxst instead of an
iambus.

(i) I am al | most mad myself: I had a son (iii. 4. 154).

(2) And when | I have stol'n | upon these sons-in-law (iv. 6. 167).

(3) Thou 'Idst meet the bear | i' the mouth. | When the mind 's free

(iii. 4. II).

(4) Whereto our health is bound; | we are not | ourselves (ii. 4. 103).

(5) You sulphurous and thought-exec | uting fires (iii. 2. 4).

Occasionally there are two such extra syllables in the same

line, e.g. —

(2, 4) When maj | esty stoops | to fol | ly. Reverse | thy doom (i. 1. 142).

But see IV, (ii) {a) (/3). These additional syllables within
the line occur commonly at the pause or 'caisura'.

Extra-metrical. — But this additional unstressed syllable
is most commonly found at the end of the line, where it
is extra-metrical, e.g. —

I tax not you, you elements, with unkind | ness;

I never gave you kingdom, call'd you child | ren (iii. 2. 16, 17).

APPENDIX B 195

It forms what is known as a double or feminine ending.
It is comparatively rare in Shakespeare's early plays, but
it becomes more and more common, till in The Tempest
It occurs once in ever)- three lines. Of the 2238 lines ot
blank verse in King Lear, 567 have double endings.'

Two extra unstressed syllables are occasionally found at
the end of a line, e.g. —

My heart into my mouth: I love your maj | esty (i. i. 85).
That he suspects none: on whose foolish hon | esty (i. 2. 165).

But no sharp division can be made between a line such as
this and a six-stressed line or .Alexandrine (III, i); and it is
sometimes best to consider the first of the two extra syl-
lables as slurred (IV, (ii) {a) {/3) ).

Examples of these extra syllables are common in lines
containing proper names, e.g. —

And you, our no less lo\ing son of Al | bany (i. i. 35).

But most lines containing proper names contain an extra
stressed syllable, e.g. i. i. 38. Such lines are especially
common in the English Histories. "They appear to be
often on principle extra-metrical, and in any case comply
ven,' loosely with the metre."

(iv) Omission of Cnstressed Syllables. — On the other
hand, an unstressed syllable is sometimes, though rarely,
omitted, e.g. —

— Ay I and lay | ing aut | umn's dust. | Good sir (iv. 6. 178).
As may | compact | it more. | — Get | you gone (L 4. 331).

Such omissions generally occur after a marked pause, and
hence (a) are found commonly, like stress inversion, in the
first, third, and fourth feet; and {b) are frequently caused
by a change of speaker, e.g. —

Eitx- Hark, do ; you hear 1 the sea? |

Glou. — No' I truly, (iv. 6. 4.)

(v) Pauses. — The normal verse has a sense pause at the
end of the line, and a slighter pause ('caesura') within it.
These are clearly marked in early blank verse (e.g. Gor-
boduc), where the pause within the line falls commonly
after the second foot. The varied position of this pause,
and the omission of the pause at the end of the line, con-
stitute, in Shakespeare's later plays, his commonest depar-
ture from the normal type. The lines in which the sense
is, in Milton's words, " variously drawn out from one verse

* See Fleay's Shakes^are Manual, p. 136.

196 KING LEAR

into another", are called run-on or unstopt lines; while the
non-coincidence of the full sense with the end of the line
forms what is known as enjambeme?it or ovetiio7v. Like
the double or feminine ending', the ' unstopt' line was
gradually used more and more by Shakespeare. In Lovers
Labour's Lost, a typical early play, it occurs about once
in every eighteen lines, while in The Tempest, Cymbeline,
and the IVinter's Tale it occurs on an average twice in
e\'ery five.

(vi) LJg-Jit and Weak Endings. — The most pronounced
form of the 'unstopt' line is that with a h'g-Jit or 7veak
ending. Such endings have the distinctive quality of being
monosyllabic. Thus —

Let it fall rather, though the fork invade
The region of my heart (i. i. 137)

is merely an instance of an ' unstopt' line. But there is a
liffht ending' in

You have begot me, bred me, loved me: I
Return those duties (i. i. 89),
and in

How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is
To have a thankless child (i. 4. 279).

The difference between li^^Jit and weak endings is that
"the voice can to a small extent dwell " on the former;
while the latter so "precipitate the reader forward" that
he is " forced to run them, in pronunciation no less than in
sense, into the closest connection with the opening words
of the succeeding line". Hence lii^ht endings consist of
the auxiliaries, personal pronouns, &c., and weak endings
of prepositions, conjunctions, &c. They are characteristic
of Sliakespeare's later plays; some of his earlier plays, e.^^.
the Comedy of Errors and the ZVi'o GentJemen of Verona,
do not contain a single instance of them. Of the two, the
light ending was the earlier in use, and it is always the
commoner; but its relative importance gradually dimin-
ished. Thus, in Macbeth, for 21 light endings there are
only 2 weak endings, but in the Winter's Tale the numbers
are respectively 57 and 43.' There does not appear to be
any instance in I\ing Lear of a "weak ending; the following
example is taken from Lrfenry VIII , iii. 2. 173: —

To the good of your most sacred person and
The profit of the state.

' .See Professor Ingram's paper in the Transactiofis 0/ the New Shakspere
Society, 1874, pt. ii.

APPENDIX B 197

It should be noted lliat tlie closing of a line witii a pre-
position or other similar word is not alone sufficient to
constitute a iceak ending, ct^. iv. 7. 16. Lines closing in
so followed by as («'..<''. \'. v i^) generally form lijt;^ht
endings.

III. Less-usual Variations, (i) Addition of Stnsscd
Syllables. — Lines are occasionally found with six stressed
syllables {i.e. with an additional toot), e.g. —

To sjjeak and purpose not, since what I well intend (i i. 219).

The pause in the six-stressed line (commonly called an
Alexandrine) is found most frequently after tlie third foot.
It occurs after the fust in ii. 1. 140, and after the fourth
in iv. 3. 42. It is generally ver}' marked: hence it often
occurs when there is a change of speaker, e.g. —

France. Could never plant in nie.

Cor. I yet beseech your majesty (i. i. 217).

(ii) Omission of Stressed Syllables. — Lines with only four
stressed syllables are much rarer. The omission of the
stress likewise may generally be accounted for by a marked
pause. Hence it also occurs most commonly at a break
in the dialogue, e.g. —

Lear. Come.

Edm. Come hither, captain; hark (v. 3. 26).

Indeed a marked pause is the source of most metrical
irregularities.

(iii) Short or Broken Lines. — There are many short lines
containing only one to four feet. They occur most fre-
quently at the beginning or end of a speecii; but there are
several examples of them in King Lear in the middle of
a speech, where they mark the completion or change of
a subject or idea. These short lines, however, generally
consist of questions, commands, exclamations, addresses,
&c. ; e.g. i. 4. 209, i. i. 269, iv. 5. 36, i. 4. 253. Some of
the shorter lines may be regarded as extra-metrical. It
will be noted that the short line is especially frequent in
the more passionate speeches, e.g. i. 4. 268, ii. 4. 280, and
iv. 6. 1 12-130 (Globe edition).

The broken speech ending is a characteristic of the
later plays.

IV. Apparent Variations. — Many apparent irregularities
are due to dilTerence of pronunciation in Shakespeare's
time.

198 KING LEAR

(i) Acce7ttua/. —The accent has changed in many words;
e.£^. Shakespeare always has aspdct (ii. 2. 100), importune
(iii. 4. 149), and sepulchre — the verb — (ii. 4. 128). Retinue
has the accent on the second syhable in i. 4. 191, and
ohsenmnts has It on the first in ii. 2. 97, — the only
occasions in Shakespeare in which these words occur in
verse. Consort, in the sense of company, is accented on
the last syllable (ii. i. 97).

Certain words had not a fixed pronunciation. It is
often only by the position of the word in the verse that we
can decide on which syllable the accent falls. Thus the
noun sepulchre has usually the accent on the first syllable,
but in Richard II, i. 3. 196, it is pronounced, like the verb,
with the accent on the second syllable. Similarly revenue
in i. I. 130 and ii. i. 100, but revenue in Richard II,
i. 4. 46; extreme (iv. 6. 26), but extremest (v. 3. 136). Note
also sincere in ii. 2. 99. In general an adjective preceding
a noun of one syllable, or a noun accented on the first
syllable, is not accerited on the last. A striking example
of this accentual change is found in Henry VIII, v. i. 132 —

Might cdrrupt minds procure knaves as cornipt.

The same change invariably takes place in such two-
syllabled adjectives as complete, exact, obscure, extreme,
sincere, &c. (See Schmidt's Shakespeare Lexicon, vol. ii,
Appendix.) The pronunciation which now survives is
generally that which represents most closely the Latin
quantity. The English accentuation of these Romance
words tended in Shakespeare's time to make the stress
fall on the first syllable; but the influence of Latin has
frequently in Modern English restored the accent to its
original place.

(ii) Syllabic— \a) A vovi'el may be lost before a consonant
at the beginning of a word: e.g. ''scape, ''gainst, ''bove, and^s
for and his, '/ for it, 's for his (i. 4. 99), for us (iii. 4. 100),
and for is. Cf. this'' for this is (iv. 6. 164).

The same omission takes place within a word ('syncope'):

(a) In the injlexion, as in the past tense and past parti-
ciple, in the second person singular, as meanest (ii. 2. 102),
in the possessive, as Phoebus'' (ii. 2. 102), and in the superla-
tive {'st for est). These shortened forms become more and
more common in Shakespeare.

(/3) /;/ the second last syllable of words of three syllables
accented on the first: e.g. courtesy^ (ii. 4. 176) and majesty

1 The mark (.j under a vowel meaus that it is mute.

APPENDIX B 199

(i. I. 142), though ma-jcs-tv (v. 3. 299). This contracted
pronunciation has become iixed in such words as busitu'ss,
medicint'. It is most commonly caused by a ' vowel-like';
see below, c".

{b) Two vowels coming together may coalesce, whether
in the same word or adjacent words: e.g. influence
(ii. 2. loi), radiant (ii. 2. lOi), material^ (iv. 2. 35),
violent i^w. 7. 28), immediacv (v. 3. 65), society {\. 3. 210),
thfexpense (ii. i. 100), the iintented (i. 4. 291). Royal and
loyal are generally dissyllabic.

There is no defmite pronunciation of the terminations
-ion, -ious, -eous, &:c. Tlius we find conditi-on (iv. 7. 57)

but benediction (iv. 7. 58), and gorge-ous (ii. 4. 265) but

gorgeous (ii. 4. 266). The contracted pronunciation, that
"now in vogue, is the more common in Shakespeare's
verse, though the dissyllabic pronunciation was recognized
throughout the seventeenth century. (See Sweet's History
of English Sounds, § 915.)

(i) The liquids /, /«, n, and r have the function of
either a consonant or a vowel, hence called ' vowel-likes '.

(a) By the consonant (non-syllabic) function they may
cause the loss of a syllable, either immediately before
or after: e.g. amorous (i. i. 40), murderous (ii. 1. 62),
stubborn (ii. 2. 120), pelican (iii. 4. ji), memories (iv. 7. 7),
temperance (iv. 7. 24), victory (v. 1. 41), countenance
(v. I.' 63), prisoners (v. 3. 75), interest (v. 3. 85), privilege
(v. 3. 129), absolute (v. 3. 300). Also in words of four
syllables: e.g. unfortunate (iv. 6. 68), desperately (v. 3. 292),
and particular {v. 1. 30), though />rt/^/r-«/-^n- (i. 4. 255).

(/3) By the vowel (syllabic) function they may form a
new syllable: e.g. entrance, sometimes written enterance,
through, sometimes written thorough, hel-m (iv. 7. 36), but
helm (iv. 2. 57), light-n-ing (iv. 7. 35), but light-ning{\\. 4. 161).

The ' vowel-like ' r frequently resolves a preceding long
vowel or diphthong into two syllables: e.g. such words as
hour, hire, fire are sometimes dissyllabic.

(d) Sometimes a consonant, usually th or v, coming
between two vowels is omitted, the vowels coalescing;
in these cases the second vowel is followed by ror n. Thus
ei'en (adv.) is generally a monosyllable; so a\so ever, never,
over, often written e'er, ne'er, o'er. The th is often omitted
in whether (sometimes written where), ratlier, &c.

20O KING LEAR

V. Rhyme. — According to Mr. Fleay's calculation, ther*
are seventy-four rhymed lines in King Lear. Shake-
speare's use of rhyme gradually diminished, but he retained
throughout his career the couplet at the end of a scene.
There are several instances of it in King Lear, e.g. i. 2, iv. 7,
V. I, and V. 3. Rhyme also marks the close of a speech
and the exit of an actor, e.g. i. i. 248-255. Similarly in
iv. 6. 258-259 it is used to mark a change of subject.
It has also the closely connected purpose of giving point
to the expression {e.g. I. i. 267, 268, i. 4.^ 337, 338); and
hence it readily lends itself, by reason of this epigrammatic
force, to clinching the argument and making an effective
ending. The only rhymed passage of any length occurs
at the end of iii. 6. It illustrates the use of rhyme in
passages of moralizing or of 'plaintive emotion '. Rhyme
is not used in passages of passionate emotion — the tendency
is rather to pass into prose,— nor for narrative, nor for
the development of the action of the drama.

GLOSSARY

advise (ii. i- 27), reflect, con-
sider: Used reflexively. Similarly
advice — consideration, judgment.
O. Fr. aviser, avis. Late Lat.
ad-visum. Originally "the way
in which a matter is looked at,
opinion, judgment" (Murray).

aidant (iv. 4. 17), helpful. O.Fr.
aidant, pres. part, of aider.

alarum'd (ii. i. 53^, aroused,
called to arms. Alarum is an-
other form of a/t/rw. O.Fr. atarme,
Italian allanne = all'arme! ' To
arms'. Thus originally an inter-
jection, but used later as a name
for the summons to arms. The
derivative sense of 'fright', which
is confined to the form alarm, is
not found in Shakesp)eare.

allow (ii. 4. 188), approve of,
sanction. O.Fr. alouer, represent-
ing \K)\h Lat allaudare, to praise,
and allocare, to place, assign.
Hence the two senses of 'approv-
ing' and 'granting', which are so
close as to blend. The former
sense is more common in M.E.
and E.E., the latter in Mod. E.
Cf. allowance (i. 4. 198), approval.

an (i. 4 97; ii- 2. 40, 94; ii. 4.
61 ), if. Spelled and in the Quartos
and First Folio, and generally in
E. E. Its derivation is uncertain,
but it is probably the same word
as the co-ordinate.

attaint (v. 3. 83), impeachment.
O. Fr. atci'iU, from p. p. oiatcindre,
' to attain ', hence ' to strike, con-
demn". Lat. attin^ere, 'to touch
upon '. It is a distinct word from

201

taint, ' stain ", which conies from
Fr. tcindre, Lat. tingcre or tin-
guere.

attend (ii. i. 125; '\\.ti,. 35),
await. O.Fr. atendre, L. ad +
ti-ndre. Primarily 'to stretch to".
Hence the meanings ' to direct the
mind to', 'to look after', 'wait up-
on ', and ' to wait for '.

avaunt (iii. 6. 62), begone! Fr.
avant, forward ! Lat. ab ante.

bandy (i. 4. 82; ii. 4. 172). The
origin is obscure. Fr. bander, to
strike a ball to and fro, as in tennis;
perhaps from bande, a side.

benison (i. i. 259; iv. 6. 206),
blessing. M.E. beneysun, O.Fr.
beneison, Lat. benedictionem ; hence
a doublet of ' benediction '.

boot (iv. 6. 207; V. 3. 301).
O.E. b6t, advantage, good, profit;
related in derivation to ' better ',
'best'. It occurs commonly in
the phrase to boot, ' to the good',
'in addition", as in iv. 6. 207.
The verb is represented in M.M
by hot en.

caitifF(iii. 2. 50), wretch. Norm.
Fr. caiti/, 'captive', 'miserable",
Lat. captivum. Its Norman origin
is shown by the retention of the
I-^tin c before a. PVench dialects
generally represented this chy ck:
cf. castle and Fr. chateau, caitijf
and Fr. chtftif. There was an early
English variant chaitif, which came
from a central Fr. form. The word
is occasionally used in E. E. in the
original sense ' captive '.

202

KING LEAR

can (iv. 4. 8). O. E. cunnaji.
' ' The O.Teut. sense was ' to know,
know how, be mentally or intel-
lectually able ', whence ' to hn able
generally, be physically able, have
the power'" (Murray).

champains (i. i. 57), or cham-
pai^^ns, plains. M.E. chainpayne,
O. Fr. champaigne, Lat. campaiila:
ultimately from Lat. campus, a
level field. The word was taken
into English in the central French
form ckampaigjie, not in the
Norman French form campaigfic
(Murray): contrast ta///^

cockney (ii. 4. 118), a pampered,
affected woman: see note. M.E.
cokeney, apparently coke n^'oi cocks '
+ ey, 'egg'; thus literally 'cocks'
egg '. The word was either achild's
name for an egg, or a name for
a small or misshapen egg. It was
then applied as a humorous or
derisive name for an unduly pam-
pered child, a milksop. F'rom this
it was applied to a townsman, as
being effeminate in comparison
with a countryman. Finally it has
got its modern special reference to
a native of London. (Murray.)

comforting (iii. 5. 17), aiding,
assisting; a common legal sense.
O.F'r. confortcr, Lat. coiifortare, to
strengthen, con intensive +/oi-tis,
strong. In legal phraseology it
is commonly used along with the
synonymous word 'aiding', e.g.
'aiding and comforting', 'giving
aid and comfort'.

commend (ii. 4. 27; iii. i. 19),
deliver, commit. Through O.Fr.
from Lat. commoidare, com +
mandare, to commit to one's care.
The secondary sense of 'praising'
arose from the idea that what is
committed is worthy of acceptance.
The sense of 'committing' sur-
vives in such [)hrases as 'com-
mend to memory'; but it was
nmch commoner in E. E. than the
sense of ' praising '.

compeers (v. 3. 69), equals, is a

compeer with. O.Fr. camper, com
-Vper, a peer (in Modern French
pair), Lat. parem.

conceit (iv. 6. 42), imagination,
illusion. Probably formed from
conceive on the analogy of deceit,
deceive, there being apparently no
corresponding O. Fr. word. It
never occurs in Shakespeare in the
modern sense of 'high opinion of
one's self.

convey (i. 2. 94), carry out, do
secretly. M.K. cofiveien, O.Fr.
conveier, Late Lat. conviare. con
+ via. Originally 'to accompany
on the way ', ' to convoy"; but used
later of inanimate things, = ' to
transport, carry', and especially
with a sense of secrecy. Cf. i. 4.
269.

cozen'd (v. 3. 154), cheated, be-
guiled. The derivation is uncer-
tain. It has commonly been
connected with Fr. cousiner, de-
fined by Cotgrave, 1611, as "to
clayme kindred for advantage, or
particular ends ; as he who, to save
charges in travelling, goes from
house to house as cosin to the
honor of everyone ". But there is
no idea of ' pretext of relationship'
in 'cozen' in E.E., in which the
meaning is simply to 'cheat'. Cf.
cozener, iv. 6. 144.

curious (i. 4. 33), complicated,
intricate. O.Fr. curiits, Lat. cttri-
osiis, full of care, scrupulous. Cf.
curiosity, 'scruples', i. 2. 4,
'nicety of suspicion ', i. 4. 67, and
' careful investigation ', i. i. 5.

darkling (i. 4. 207), in the dark.
M.E. datkcling, dark -\- ling, an
old adverbial formative. Cf. /lat-
/ing or Jiatlong, hcadling or head-
long, sidelong.

debosh'd(i. 4. 232), an early vari-
ant of 'debauched'. Taken, about
1600, from l'"r. di'/niuclier, to draw
away from duty ; hence to lead
astray, corrupt. "Obsolete in Eng-
lish before the middle of the seven-
teenth century; retained longer in

GLOSSARY

203

Scotch; revived by Scott, and now
frequent in literary English with
somewhat vaguer sense than Jc-
bauched" (Murray). Dehoshed is
the only form in Shakesf>eare.

deer(iii. 4. 127). Not used in
its modern special sense, but ap-
plied to animals generally, usually
to quadrup>eds as distinct from
birds and fishes. O. E. di'or. Not
connected with Gk. flvj/), a wild
beast.

demajid (iii. 2. 60; v. 3. 62),
ask: the commoner meaning of
the word in Shakesf)eare. Cf. the
substantive, i. 5. 3. Fr. demaiider,
Lat. dt' + mandare.

digest (i. I. 121), divide, dis-
fK)se of. Lat. digerere, to carry
asunder, divide, dis + gerere.
Schmidt's explanation that it is
used figuratively in the sense of
' enjoy ' is untenable.

earnest 1 i . 4. 9 1 ), earnest-money.
The derivation is uncertain. Cf.
O. Fr. erres. Modem Fr. arrhes,
from Lat. arrha. The Scottish
form arles is apparently from the
same root.

engraffed (i. i. 290), engrafted.
Gra^ w.is the original form, and
was in common use in E. E. The
current fonn graft probably arose
from the use oi graft (grajed) as
the p. part, of the old form. O. Fr.
graft, greffe (Mod. Fr grcffe), a
slip of a tree, originally a pointed
instrument. Late Lat. graphium,
a writing style. Gk. yfi^ui, to
write. The Quartos have the form

enonnous (ii. 2. 163), abnor-
mal, monstrous. Lat. enormis,
e-\- norma, pattern, rule. This is
the only instance of the word in
Shakespeare's plays. The u.sual
sense now — 'huge' — is derivative.

entertain (iii. 6. 76), take into
service: a common meaning in E.E.
Cf. T'co Gentlemen of I'erona, ii.
4, iia. "entertain him for your

servant ". Fr. entretenir, Lat.
inter ->rtenere.

esperanceiiv. 1.4), hope. O. Fr.
eiperauce. Late Lat. sperantia,
spcrare, to hope.

essay (i. 2. 39), trial, test. O. Fr.
essai or assai, Lat. exagium,
'weighing', hence 'e.xamination',
exigere, ' to weigh, consider ', ex
+ ago. The commoner form in
Shakespeare is assay: essay occurs
only here and in Sonnets, ex. 8.
Cf. say.

exhibition (i. 2. 20), allowance.
O. I'^r. exhibicion, Late Lat. cxhi-
bitionem, maintenance, exhibere,
to maintain, support, in legal
sense. (Cf. exhibitioet tegumenlum
= food and raiment.) Its original
meaning was 'maintenance, sup-
port ' ; hence, as here, ' allowance,
pension '. This sense survives
only in its specialized use as a
kind of scholarship given by an
English college, &c. It has the
sense of ' present ' in Othello, iv.
3. 75, "I would not do such a
thing for a joint-ring . . . nor any
petty exhibition". The meaning
'display', &c. , is comparatively
late.

favours (iii. 7. 39), features.
M. E. /rtt'(7«r, 'Sox. Yx. favor, T^at.
favorem, kindliness. The mean-
ing 'face', 'features', arose from
the common transition from the
feeling or disposition to that which
expresses it. The meaning ' face'
is more common than the special-
ized meaning ' features of the face',
but cf. I Henry IT, iii. 2. 136,
" and stain my favours in a bloody
mask ". Cf. the colloquial use of
the verb in the sense of 'to re-
semble '.

feature (iv. 2. 63), outward form,
appearance. O.Fr. failure, Lat.
factura, ixom facere, to make. In
E.E. it preserved its original gen-
eral sense of ' make, form, shape".
It is not used in .Shakespeare in
the specialized modem sense of
the parts of the face.

204

KING LEAR

fell (v. 3. 24), strictly a hide,
skin with the hair on ; but often
used of the human skin, as in the
phrase /?«// and fell, which means
the whole body. O. E. fcl, cognate
with Lat. pellis.

flaws (ii. 4. 282), shivers, splin-
ters; akin Xo Jlake ss\A flag {iXowt).
Cf. Jlaw'd, broken, cracked (v. 3.
196).

fond (i. 2. 43; i. 4. 292; iv. 7.
60), foolish. M.E. fanned, p.p.
oifo/i, primarily 'to lose savour',
hence ' to be foolish ', probably
the source of M.E./(3«, 'foolish ',
'a fool', as well as of the later
word fun . From meaning ' foolish ,
silly', it came to mean 'foolishly
tender', then ' affectionate ', the
change arising from the associa-
tion of warm feeling with mental
weakness. The inverse process
has taken place in the M.E. silly,
which comes ultimately from O.E.
sc§/, 'happiness'.

forfended (v. i. 11), forbidden.
M.Ii. forfenden, ward off, for-^
fcnden, a shortened form of de
fenden, from Lat. defcndere. As
for is an English prefi.x — of simi-
lar force to the Latin prefix de —
fo)fenden is thus a hybrid.

fret (i. 4. 276), wear, eat away.
O.E. strong verb frelan, con-
sume, from O.Teut. fra + etan,
to eat. The verb is weak in E.E. ,
but a strong past. part, survives
in frettcn, the Quarto reading of
Merchant of Venice, iv. i. 77.

frontelet (i. 4- i79)- Sec note.
O. !•■. frontelet, dim. of frontel,
ultimately from Lat. frons, the
forehead.

fumiter (iv. 4. 3), fumitory.
O.Yv.fiimeterre, Med. l.^X.fitmus
terrae, ' smoke of the earth ' ; so
called because "it springcth . . .
out of the earth in great cjuantity ".
Hence "rank fumiter".

gallow (iii. 2. 39), terrify. An
obsolete form of gaily. O.E.

agcslwan, to alarm. Cf. gallicrow,
used in Wessex for a 'scarecrow'.

gasted (ii. i. 55). frightened.
O.E. gcBstan. The verb gast is
the same as the verb agast, of
which the only part in use is the
past part, agast, now erroneously
spelled aghast.

germens (iii. 2. 8), germs, the
seeds of life. Lat. germen. Cf.
Macbeth, iv. i. 59, "though the
treasure Of nature's germens
tumble all together".

good-years (v. 3. 24). An in-
definite name for an evil power or
agency. The word was first used
as a meaningless expletive, as in
the phrase " XX^hat the good year!""
But apparently from the equiva-
lence of this phrase with "What
the devil! plague! " &c., it came to
be used in imprecations and curses
for an undefined evil power. The
phrase "What the good-year",
which was probably adopted
from the Dutch wat goedjaar,
occurs in The Merry Wives, i. 4.
129 (spelled ^ooa'-y«-), Much Ado,
i. 3. I, and 2 Hemy IV, ii. 4. 64
and 191. The present is the only
instance in Shakespeare m which
it is used in its secondary force.
The word is commonly defined,
since Sir Thomas Hanmer's edi-
tion of Shakespeare, 1744, as the
name of a disease. It is said to
be a corruption of the Fr. goiijeres,
a hypothetical derivative of gouje,
a camp-follower. But this deriva-
tion and definition are erroneous.
(Bradley.)

help (iii. 7. 61). Of the .strong
inflexions of /;r//, the normal M.E.
past t'Cnse was halp; the pi. was
holpen, later holp or holpc, which
c. 1500 was extended also to the
sing., and continued in frequent
use till the seventeenth century
(Murray).

hurricanoes (iii. 2. 2), water-
spouts. Span, huracan. The
modern form hurricane was estab-

GLOSSARY

205

lished only in the latter half of
the seventeenth century. It is not
found in Shakespeare. The form
hurrUano occurs also in Troiliis
and Cressida, v. 2. 172, where
likewise it has the sense of water-
spout.

inheriting (ii. 2. 17), possess-
ing. M.E. inluriten, cnluriten,
O. Fr. en-htriter, Lat. hereditare,
to inherit. Often used in E.E.
in the loose sense of ' come into
possession of. Cf. the Biblical
phrase, "shall inherit the earth".

interess'd (i. i. 78), interested,
concerned. Intcress (noun and
verb) is the early form of interest,
and is common in E.E. From
M.E. and Anglo -Fr. interesse
(subst. ), Lat. interesse, to con-
cern, be of importance.

intrinse (ii. 2. 69), intricate,
involved. Perhaps an abbrevia-
tion of intrinsicate: see Antony
and Cleopatra, v. 2. 307. Cf.
reverbs, i. i. 147. ■

justicer (iii. 6. 21, 54). O.Fr.
justiiier. Late Lat. justitiarius;
thus identical in derivation with
'justiciar' or 'justiciary'. It is
used by Shakespeare in the sense
of 'justiciar' or 'administrator
of justice'; but it has often the
less specialized meaning of 'one
who maintains justice, upholds
the right ', as in iv. 2. 79. In
iii. 6. 21 the Folios and Quartos
read justice: Theobald's emen-
d.ition justicer is supported by
line 54.

knapped (ii. 4. 119), knocked,
struck. Of onomatopoetic forma-
tion, the original meaning being
' to strike with a hard sharp sound '.

knave (i. i. 15; i. 4. 42, 93),
boy, servant. M.E. knaue, O. E.
cnafa, cnapa, a boy. Cf. Ger.
knabe. From meaning a male
child, it came to mean a boy cm-
ployed as a servant, in both of
which senses it is used in King
Lear. Shakespeare uses it also

in its modern sense of 'rascal,
villain '.

liege (i. I. 28), sovereign. NLE.
ligc. lege, liege, O.Fr. lige, liege,
O. H.G. ledic, free, unrestrained.
Hence properly used, as in the
title liege -lord, of the feudal
suzerain. Skeat quotes from Bar-
bour's Bruce, " Bot and I lif in
lege pouste" = but if I survive in
free and undisputed sovereignty.
But by supposed connection with
Lat. ligdtus, ligare, to bind, the
word was applied to the vassals of
the liege-loid. Hence the modern
use in the sense of citizens, as in
the phrase ' the safety of the lieges '.

mainly (iv. 7. 65), perfectly. Cf.
main — ' chief, principal '. O. Fr.
maim, magne, great, Lat. tnagnus.
Commonly in Shakespeare with
the sense ' forcibly, mightily '.

marry (iii. 2. 36; iv. 2. 68), an
exclamation derived from the oath
' by the Virgin Mary '.

maugre (v. 3. 131), in spite of.
O. I'r. maulgre [WoA. Fr. inalgri),
literally 'ill will'. Ultimately from
Lat. mains, bad, and gratnm, a
pleasant thing.

meiny (ii. 4. 34), household.
M. E. meinee, mainee, a household,
O.Fr. maisnee. Low Lat. man-
sionata, a household, Lat. mansio,
a dwelling. The word is spelled
many in Spenser, Faerie Queene,
V. II. 3, 2. It is the source of
menial.

mere (iv. i. 21), unalloyed, pure.
O.Fr. mier, Lat. merus, unmi.\ed,
specially of wine.

mess (i. I. no), di.sh of food.
O.Fr. mes, a dish, literally that
which is placed on the table; Low
Lat. missum, mittere, to place;
Lat. mittere, to send. Cf. Mod.
Fr. nuts.

minikin (iii. 6. 42), dainty,
pretty. Cf. Dutch minnekyn, a
cupid, darling, a diminutive of
minne, love, cognate with O. H.G.
minna, love. .-Mlied to minion
I and Fr. mignon.

206

KING LEAR

miscreant (i. i. 154), wretch.
Originally an 'unbeliever', and
perhaps used here in this sense.
O.Fr. mescreant, Lat. minus \-cre-
dentem. Cf. 'Recreant'.

modest (ii. 4. 24; iv. 7. 5), mo-
derate. Fr. modeste, Lat. modes-
tus, moderate, measurable, from
modus, a measure. Shakespeare
uses the word both in this original
sense, and in its derivative and
cunent sense, ' decent ' or ' diffi
dent'.

moiety (i. i. 6), part, portion:
strictly a half. Anglo -Fr. moyte
(Mod. Fr. moitii), a half, Lat.
medietatem, from 7iiedius, middle.
Shakespeare uses it in both senses,
'half and 'part'.

motley (i. 4. 138), M. E. motte-
lee, O. Fr. matteld, ' curdled '.
Hence ' spotted, variegated '.
Strictly an adjective, but used by
Shakespeare as a substantive,
(1) as the dress of the Fool, as
here; and (2) as the Fool himself,
e.£^. "And made myself a motley
to the view ", Sonnets, ex. 2.

naughty (iii. 4. 104; iii. 7. 36),
bad, wicked: as frequently in E. E.
M.E. naught, O.E. nawh/t, na,
no + wAif, thing. Hence 'worth-
less', 'good for nothing', 'wicked'.
Thesense' mischievous' ismodern.
Cf naugkt— wicked, ii. 4. 130.

nicely (ii. 2. 98; v. 3. 144),
punctiliously, with nicety. O. Fr.
nire, simple, Lat. tiescius, ignorant.
The original meaning in English
was ' foolish ', as in Chaucer; but
in E.E. it had acquired the mean-
ing of 'fastidious' as applied to
persons, and ' petty, trifling ' as
applied to things. "The remark-
able changes in sense may have
been due to confusion with E.
nesh, which sometimes meant
'delicate' as well as 'soft'" (Skcat).
Shakespeare does not use the word
in the modern sense 'pleasant'.

oeilladea (iv. 5. 25), glances.
The Quartos read a/?a£f.r, the Folios

eliads (ist) and iliads (and, 3rd,
and 4th). " It cannot be decided
whether Shakespeare wrote the
French word or some anglicized
form of it." The word occurs
also in Mcny Wives, i. 3. 68.

offend (i. i. 298), hurt, harm.
M.E. offenden, Fr. offcndre, Lat.
offendere, to strike or dash against.
Offend is strictly the opposite of
defend, this sense surviving in the
phrase "on the offensive", &c.
The strong sense of 'hurt, harm'
is comparatively rare in Shake-
speare, who uses the word chiefly
in its modern significatiort: but
cf 2 Henry IV, ii. 4. 126, "She
is pistol-proof, sir; you shall hardly
offend her."

or ere (ii. 4. 283), before. The
two words are identical in mean-
ing, both being derived from the
O.E. dr, before. But it is prob-
able that ere was considered a
contraction iox ever— e'er. Shake-
speare has both forms, or ere and
or ever {Hamlet, i. 2. 183).

owes(i. I- 196), possesses: owest
(i. 4. 113). M.E. ffwen, aiccn,
O.E. agan, ah, 'possess'. The
current sense of 'obligation ' arises
from the idea of possessing what
belongs to another. 1 he word is
used in this modern sense in iii.
4. 98.

pelting (ii. 3. 18), paltry— which
has partly the same source. The
Northern word palfrie or peltric,
a substantive meaning ' trash', was
probably the source of E.E. paul-
tring, fettering, ' petty ', and fetter,
'a mean person". By association
with these, pelt, ' skin ', acquired
the suggestion of 'trash', and from
it appears to have been formed,
during the sixteenth century, the
word pelting, on the analogy of
pel trie, peltering ( Herford ). Note
the modern pelting, adistinct word,
in iii. 4. 29.

perdu (iv. 7. 35). Not from
Fr. en/ant perdu, a soldier of a

GLOSSARY

207

forlorn hope, but from sentinelk
fxrdue, a sentry placed in a very
advanced and dangerous position.
Thus " to watch — f>oor perdu ! "

perdy(ii. 4. 81), an exclamation.
From Fr. par Dicu.

plaited (i. i. 274). folded M.E.
plat till, O.I>. pleit, put, a fold
(Mod. Ft. pit); I^iL plicatus. pli-
eare, to fold. The Quartos read
pUiitcd, the Yo\\os plighted, which
;ire both doublets of plaited. The
form plight, which is found in
Spenser — e.g. "with many a folded
plight", Faerie Qtwene, ii. 3. 26, 5
— comes from y.l.E. pliten, ihegA
being an intrusion. It is quite
distinct from plight (i. r. 94),
pledge, which conies from O.E.
pliht, risk, danger, cognate with
Ger. pflicht, duty.

pother (iii. 2. 45), airmoil.
From the same source as potter
and poke; not connected with
' bother ". The 1 olios read pud-
der, another form of the same
word.

power (iii. r. 30; iv. 2. 16; iv.
3. 1; V. I. 51), army: a common
sense in E.E. M.E. pouer, O. Fr.
poz>oir. Late Lat. potere— posse, to
be able. Thus derivatively r. sub-
suntival use of the infinitive mood.
Cf Fr. pouvoir.

presently (i. 4. 137: ii. 4. 33,
113), immediately, at once: the
usual sense in E. E.

puissant (v. 3. 216), strong,
great. F. puissant. Low Lat. pos-
sens, a pres. part, due to confusion
between the correct form patens
and the inf. posse. A doublet of
t>otent.

quit (iii. 7. 86), requite. M.E.
quiten. O.Fr. quiter, Lat. quiet-
are, to set at rest. Quit is de-
rivatively a shorter form of quiet.

recreant (L 1. 160), coward.
Strictly one who has changed his
faith. O.Fr. recreant, Lat. rf +
credtntem. Cf. ' Miscreant".

renege (ii. 2. 72), deny. M.E.
r«r«^^, LowLat. renegare, whence
'renegade', &c. The g is pro-
nounced hard. The spelling of
the Quartos is reneag.

reverbs (i. i. 147), reverberates.
Perhaps "a coined word, by
contraction " (Skeat). Cf. int rinse,
ii. 2. 69.

saw (ii. 2. 154), saying, proverb.
.M.E. sawe, sa-^e, O.E. sagu, a
saying, allied to secgan, to say.
Cf. As You Like It, ii. 7. 156,
" Full of wise saws".

say (v. 3. 143), proof, taste: a
common aphetic form of assay or
essay (q.v.). Cf. the verbal use in
Pericles, i. i. 59, 60, "Of allsay'd
yet, mayst thou prove prosperous.
Of all sayd yet, I wish thee
happiness!"

sonnet (i. i., stage direction), a
set of notes on a trumpet announc-
ing the entry or e.xit of a pro-
cession. The word does not
appear in the text of Shakespeare.
The forms ' synnet ', ' sonnet ',
' cynet ', and 'signet ' also occur.

several (i. i. 37). respective, as
commonly in E.E. O.Yx. sez'eral.
Low Lat. separaL: a. doublet of
' separate '.

sith (i. I. 174; ii. 4. 236), since,
M.E. sitAen, O.E. j/15«,z«, from
si^ ^am, after that. A doublet of
since, which is from M.E. sithens,
i.e. sithen-^\\\e. adverbial termina-
tion -s or -es, as in -whiles. Note
that sith usually has the sense of
'as', 'seeing that', though it has
a temporal force in Hamlet, ii. 2. 12.

sizes (ii. 4. 172), allowances.
Short for assise, a fi.xed quantity.
M.E. assise, O.Fr. ass is, 'an as-
sembly of judges', 'a sitting', 'an
impKjst', 'quantity adjudged': ulti-
mately from Lat. seder e, to sit.
Hence the Cambridge term sizar,
a scholar to whom certain 'allow-
ances ' are made. .

spills (iii. 2. 8), destroys. M.E.
spillen, O.K spillan, spildan, to

208

KING LEAR

destroy. Cf. Hamlet, iv. 5. 20,
' ' So full of artless jealousy is guilt,
It sj^ills itself in fearing to be spilt".

stelled (iii. 7. 60), starry, stel-
late. Lat. stellatus, slella, a star.
Schmidt and Craig take it to mean
' ' fi.\ed " : cf. Sonnets, x.xiv. i , " Mine
eye hath played the painter and
hath stell'd Thy beauty's form",
and Lucrece, 1444, "To find a
face where all distress is stell'd".

suggestion (ii. i. 73). under-
hand action: the usual meaning
of the word in Shakespeare. Cf.
suggest, to prompt, incite crimin-
ally. M.E. suggestc7i, from p.
part, of Lat. suggerere, literally ' to
carry or lay under', sub+ge?-ere.
Suggest and suggestion are com-
monly used in a bad sense in E. E.

tell (ii. 4. 52), count. M.E.
tellen, O.E. tellan, to count,
nariate.

tithing (iii. 4- 124), district.
Originally a district containing
ten families. O.E. teif'&a, a tenth.

treachers (i. 2. 115), traitors.
M.E. trccchour, tryehor, O. Fr.
trceher, to cheat; ultimately of
Teutonic origin: cognate with
trick. This is the only instance

of the word in Shakespeare, but
it was common in E.E.

trowest (i. 4- 117). believest.
M.E. troiven, O.E. tredwian, to
have trust in, tredwa, trust.

tucket (ii. I, stage direction), a
flourish on a trumpet or cornet.
Cf. Henry V, iv. 2, 35, "Then
let the trumpets sound The tucket
sonance and the note to mount".
It. toreata, from toccare, to touch.

vaunt-couriers (iii. 2. 5), fore-
runners. Yr. avant-coicreur (see
avaunt). Cf. the contraction in
van, vanguard (Fr. avant-garde).

villain (iii. 7- ll)' servant.
O. Fr. vilein. Low Lat. villanus, a
farm-servant; villa, a farmhouse.
The word has here its original
sense, but the current degraded
sense 'scoundrel' is the more com-
mon in Shakespeare {e.g. i. 2. 149).

whiles (ii. 3. 5; iv. 2. 58), strictly
the genitive of -while, time, used
adverbially. Cf. t^vice, from twi-es.
This old genitive survives mwhilst.

■worships (i. 4- 257), dignities,
credit. M.E. worschip, wur^scipe,
O.E. weoi'^scipe, ivyt^scipe, hon-
our: a contraction of ■worthship,
the til being lost in the fourteenth
century.

INDEX OF WORDS

N.B. Other words -will be found in the Glossary

action-taking', ii. 2. 16.
additions, i. i. 129; v, 3. 68.
admiration, i. 4. 227.
affected, i. i. i.
ancient of war, v. i. 32.
approve, i. i. 178.
arg-ument, i. i. 209.
at point, i. 4. 316.

ballow, iv. 6. 222.

battles, iii. 2. 23.

Bedlam beggars, ii. 3.

bewray, ii. i. 107; iii. 6. 109.

blank, i. i. 152.

bolds, V. I. 26.

bond, i. 1. 86.

bourn, iii. 6. 25; iv. 6. 57.

briefless, ii. i. 18.

carbonado, ii. 2. 2)Z^ 34'
censure, iii. 5. 2; v. 3. 3.
century, iv. 4. 6.
clodpole, i. 4. 46.
clotpole, i. 4. 46.
clout, iv. 6. 92.
colour, ii. 2. 132.
comfortable, i. 4. 297
consort, ii. i. 97.
converse, i. 4. 15.
convey, i. 2. 94.
costard, iv. 6. 222.
court holy-water, iii. 2. 10.
CO wish, iv. 2. 12.
coxcomb, i. 4. 92.
curst, ii. 1. 65.
(M906)

dear, i. 4. 263.
defuse, i. 4. 2.
depend, i. 4. 240.
derogate, i. 4. 271.
descent, v. 3. 137.
diffidences, i. 2. 133.
diseases, i. 1. 168.
disguise, i. 4. 2.
disnatured, i. 4. 274.
Dolphin, iii. 4. 94.

ear-kissing, ii. i. 8.
efiects, i. i. 124.
elf, ii. 3. 10.
engine, i. 4. 259.
epicurism, i. 4. 234.
equalities, i. i. 5.
event, the, i. 4. 340.

faint, i. 4. 66.

fetches, ii. 4. 85.

fire-new, v. 3. 132.

first of difference, your, v. 3.

288.
flesh, ii. 2. 41.
fleshment of, in the, ii. 2,

117.
Flibbertigibbet, iii. 4. 106.
foins, iv. 6. 226.
foppery, i. 2. iio; i. 4. 158.
foppish, i. 4. 158; i. 2. no.
fordid, v. 3. 255.
fork, the, i. i . 137.
Fraterelto, iii. 6. 6; iii. 4. 106.
frontlet, i. j.. 179.
209 O

2IO

KING LEAR

gad, upon the, i. 2. 21
generation, i. 1. iio.
generous, i. 2. 8,
goest, i. 4. 116.
graced, i. 4. 236.
grossly, i. i. 285.

handy-dandy, iv. 6. 137.
Hecate, i. 1. 103.
home, iii. 3. 12.
Hopdance, iii. 6. 30.
Hysterica passio, ii. 4. 54.

immediacy, v. 3. 65.
incense, ii. 4. 303.
ingenious, iv. 6. 260.

Jug, i. 4. 215.

kibes, I. 5. 9.

Lady the brach, i. 4. 108.

lag of, i. 3. 6.

lances, v. 3. 50.

like, i. I. 194; i. i. 293; iv. 2.

19.
loathly, ii. i. 49.

main, iii. i. 6.
milk, i. I. 77.
monsters it, i. i. 214.
mother, ii. 4. 53.

names my very deed of love,

i. I. 64.
nether, iv. 2. 79.
notion, i. 4. 218.
nuncle, i. 4. 101.
nursery, i. i. 117.

Obidicut, iv. i. 60.
observants, ii. 2. 97.
office, ii. 4. 102.
old, iii. 4. 1 10.
ons, i. 4. 99; i. 5. 19.
on't, i. 4. 145.
out, i. I. 25.
owes, i. I. 196.
owest, i. 4. 115.

packings, iii. i. 26.

packs, v. 3. 18.

pelican daughters, iii. 4. 71.

pight, ii. I. 65.

Pillicock, iii. 4. 72.

poise, ii. 2. 120.

practices, i. 2. 166; ii. i. 73,

107; V. 3;..'5J-
practised, iii. 2. 52; i. 2. 166.
prefer, i. i. 268.
pretence, i. 2. 81; i. 4. 68.
proper, i. i. 12.
property, i. i. 107.
Pur! iii. 6. 45.
put on, i. .). 197.

queasy, ii. i. 17.
questrists, iii. 7. 16.

regards, i. i. 233.
resolve, ii. 4. 24.
ripeness, v. 2. 11.
roundest, i. 4. 53.
rubb'd, ii. 2. 148.

sallets, iii. 4. 122.

sectary astronomical, a, i. 2.

136.
self, i. I. 62.
set, i. 4. 1 18.

set my rest, to, i. i. 116, 117.
shealed, i. 4, 189.
sliowest, i. 4. 113.
sliver, iv. 2. 34.
snuffs, iii. i. 26.
some year, i. i. 13.
soothe, iii. 4. 165.
sop o' the moonshine, ii. 2. 28.
spherical predominance, i. 2.

115-
square of sense, the most

precious, i. i. 67.
squiny, iv. 6. 121.
subscribed, i. 2. 19.
subscription, iii. 2. 18.
succeed, i, 2. 129.
success, v. 3. 194.
sumpter, ii. 4. 213.
super-serviceable, ii. 2. 16.

INDEX OF WORDS

211

taking, ii. 4. 160.
tender, i. 4. 200.
tefxible, i. 2. 27.
thoug'ht-execiitiiijj, iii. 2. 4.
three-suited, ii. 2. 14.
thwart, i. 4. 274.
toad-spotted, v. 3. 138.
Toilet, ii. 2. 59.
Tom o' Bedlams, ii. 3.
toward, ii. 1. 10; iii. 3. 19.
trowest, Learn more than you,

i. 4. 117.
Turlygod, ii. 3. 20.

unbolted, ii. 2. 59.
unpossessing, ii. i. 67.

unpriced, i. 1. 253.
untented, i. 4. 291; i. i. 253.
upon his party, li. i. 26.
upon respect, ii. 4. 22-

validity, i. i. 74.
virtue, v. 3. 103.

wash'd eyes, with, i. i. 262.

waterish, i. i. 252.

web and the pin, the, iii. 4.

107.
where, i. 2. 76.
wield the matter, i. i. 48.

young bones, ii. 4. 159.

GENERAL INDEX

Abbott, Shakespearian Gram-
mar, i. I. 204; i. 2. 80; i. 4.
24, 206, 225, 240; i. 5. 32;
ii. I. 75; iii. I. 23, 24; iii. 2.12.

abstract used for concrete,
iv. 7. 7.

adjective, adverbial use of the,
i. 4. 329; iv. 6. 3.

adjective, substantival use of
the, ii. I. 59; iii. 7. 64.

iEsop's Fables, allusion to,

i. 4- 153- ^ ,

antecedent, omission of the,

ii. I. 123.
as, omission of, i. i. 204.
auxiliary, omission of the, ii. i.

75; iv. 2. 2.

Bartholomew Fair, Ben Jon-
son's, iii. 4. 94.

bastards' leg-al inability to in-
herit, ii. 1. 67.

be in Early Eng^lish, uses of,

i- 5- 32-
Bell-man of London, Dekker's,

ii. 3.
brains used in the singular,
example of, i. 58.

Capell, i. 4. 16, 17.
Chapman, i. i. 110.
Colerid^■e, i. i. 100, loi, 166;

i. 5. 38; ii. I. 67, 101; ii. 4.

261 ; iii. 4.
comparative and superlative,

double, i. 1. 71.
constructions, confusion of, iv.

6- 2>Z^ 34-

contractions, euphonic, i. 4. 99;

i. 5. 19.
Craig, W. J., i. 1. 1 10; 1. 2. 134;

i. 4. 252.

Declaration of Popish ImpoS'
tures, Harsnet's, ii. 4. 53, 54;
iii. 4. 51 ; iii. 4. 106; iii. 6. 30.

Dekker's Bell-man of London,
ii. 3.

-edm past participles, 1. i. 253;
i. 4. 291; iv. 6. 21; iv. 6.

25-'-

ellipsis, examples of, i. i. 204;
ii. 4. 41 ; v. I. 68.

English Grammar, Ben Jon-
son's, ii. 2. 58.

ethic dative, example of, i. 2.
90,91.

Euphnes, Lyiy's, ii. 2. 155, 156.

Ex nihilo 7iihilfit, i, i. 83.

fish on Fridays, the Roman
Catholic custom of eating-,
i. 4. 16, 17.

Furness, iii. 2. 27.

Gargantiia and Pantagruel,
Rabelais, iii. 6. 6, 7.

gerundial infinitive, ii. 4. 107.

Guillim's Heraldry, ii. i. 67.

Gunpowder Plot, allusion to
the, i. 2. 96.

Hanmer, ii. 2. 155, 156.
Harsnet's Declaration of
Popish Impostures, ii. 4. 53,
212

GENERAL INDEX

213

54; iii. 4. 51; iii. 4. 106; iii.

6. 30.
Harvey's (Gabriel), Pierces

Supererogation, ii. 2. 28.
Hazlitt, i. I. 270; i. i. 138;

iii. 4. 66; iii. 6. 61.
hendiadys, examples of, i. 2.

40; i. 2. 159; i. 4. 133.
Heraldry, Guillim's, ii. i. 67.
here, substantival use of", i. i.

Herford, Dr., i. 5. 24; iii. 4. iii.
Horace's Odes, iii. 6. 79.

Johnson, i. i. 192; i. 2. 97;
i. 4. 157-160; i. 5. 38; ii. 2. i6;
ii- 2. 155, 156; iv. 6. II.

Jonson's, Ben, English Gram-
mar, ii. 2. 58; Bartholomew,)
Fair, iii. 4. 94; Silent Woman,
ii. 2. 14.

Kellner, i. i. 266; ii. 2. 95; iii.
2. 12; iii. 7. 64.

Lipsbury pinfold, ii. 2. 8.
liver, as the seat of couragfe,

the, ii. 2. 15.
Lyly's Euphtics, ii. 2. 155, 156.

Malone, i. 4. 338; iii. 4. 51 ;

iv. 3. 19.
Middleton's Phoenix, ii. 2. 14.

neuter possessive, forms of the,
i. 4. 206; iv. 2. 32.

Odes, Horace's, iii. 6. 79.
Oedipus Colonetts, Sophocles',

iii. 2. 55.
one superlative form applying-

to two superlatives, i. 4. 254.
other, forms of the plural of,

i. 4. 191.

pa t participles, with active
sense, i. i. 266; iv. 6. 10;
suffix -ed in, i. i. 253; i. 4.
291; iv. 6. 21; iv. 6. 251.

Phoenix, Middleton's, ii. 2.

Pierces Supererogation, Ga.hr'iG\

Harvey's, ii. 2. 28.
preposition, omission of, i. i.

'54; i- 3- '; "• '• 39; •'• 2- 76;

V. 3. 274.
Proverbs of John Heywood, ii.

2- 155.. '56- ..
puns, ii. i. 1 19; ii. 4. 7; ii. 4. 10;

ii. 4. 51.
Purchas Pilgrtmes, i. i. 1 10.

Rabelais, Gargantua and Pa n-

tagruel, iii. 6. 6, 7.
Reynolds, Sir Joshua, i. 4.

206.

Schmidt, Shakespearian Lexi-
con, ii. 2. 16; iii. 4. 160.

seeming- substance, that little,
i. I. 192.

Silent Woman, Ben Jonson's,
ii. 2. 14.

sing-ular verb, preceding- a
plural subject, i. i. 182; fol-
lowing- a pronoun with a
plural antecedent, i. i. 184,
185; following two nouns,
ii. I. 113.

some, with force of indefinite
article, ii. 2. 89.

Sophocles' Oedipus Colonetis,
iii. 2. 55.

Steevens, i. 4. 165, 166; i. 4.
215; i. 5. 38; v.\3. 72.

stomach the seat of anger,
the, v. 3. 74.

superlatives, one superlative
form with two, i. 4. 254.

text, notes on the, i. i. 33-38,
71, 76, 142; i. 2. 16, 101-106,
130-137, 134, 150-155; i. 3.
20; i. 4. i32-'47. 314-325.
335; ii. 2. 135-139. 162-164;
ii. 4. 45-52, 136-141; iii. I.
7-15, 22-29, 30-42; iii. 2. 49,
74-88; iii. 4. 1 10; iii. 6. 12-14,

214

KING LEAR

53, 96-100; iii. 7. 17, 42, 62,
64; iv. 1.6-9; 'V. 2. 28, 31-50,
68; iv. 3; iv. 3. 19; iv. 4. 4;
iv. 6. 15, 146-151; iv. 6. 231;
iv. 7. 85-97; V. 3- 160, 204-
221, 323.
transposition, form of, i. i. 88.

Warburton, i. 4. 16, 17; i. 4.
145; iv. 3. 19.

ivhere, substantival use of, i.

255.
Wright, i. I. 273; i. 2. 96; ii.

2. 16.

ye for j'ou, the use of, 1. 2. 153;

i. 4. 293; ii. 2. 41.
you were best, i. 4. 94.

Z, the letter, ii. 2. 58

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GENERAL LITERATURE

Malory— The Coming of Arthur
^IAL■>Kv— The Knights of the Round

Table
Sintram and his Companions
Defoe's Robinson Crusoe
Swift's Gulliver's Travels
Lamb's Adventures of Ulysses
Hawthorne's Tanglewood Tales
Kingsley's Heroes
Kingsley's Water-Babies
Dickens- A Christmas Carol
DiCKENS-The Chimes
Dickens— The Cricket on the Hearth
Irving— Rip Van Winkia and other
Borrow— Gipsy Stories (Sketches

Borrow- The Stories of Antonio and

Benedict Mol
SIndbad the Sailor
Tales from the Arabian Nights
Tales from the Decameron
RusKiN — Sesame and Lilies
RusKiN — Crown of Wild Olive
RusKiN — Byzantine Churches of

Venice
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Man of Letters
Caki.vi.e — The Hero as Poet, The

Hero as King
Irving — England's Rural Life and

Christmas Customs
De Quincey's English Mail Coach
Lamb's School-Days and other Essays
Walpole's Letters on the American

War of Independence
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the French Revolution
Defoe's Journal of the Plague Year
Burke's American Speeches
Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress— Part I.
Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress— Part II.
Walton's Complete Angler
Cowley's Essays
Bacon's Essays
More's Utopia

Erasmus's In Praise of Folly
Trips to Wonderland, from Lucian

TRA VEL

Drake's The World Encompassed

Sir Richard Hawkins's Voyage into
the South Seas

Irving's Companions of Columbus

Early Voyages to Japan, from I'ur:/ias
his Filg'i'Hi

Roe's Embassy to the great Mogul
from I^uixhas his l^ilt^rints

The Voyage of Captain James, from
Harris's I'oyages

The French in Canada (Cartier, Cham-
plain, and (Ic MonlsJ

Adventures of Captain John Smith

from Smith's True Tra-'eh
Raleigh's Discovery of Guiana
Anson's Taking of the Galleon
Captain Cook's Second Voyage
Hic — A Sojourn at Lha-Ssa
Hue — Travels in Thibet

HISTORY

Britain and Germany in Roman

Times
I!ki)k - History of the Church of

England
Fkoissaui— Border Warfare under

Edward III and Richard II
Fkoissart— The Reign of Richard II
Kkoissart- Crecy and Poitiers
CoMMiNES — Warwick the Kingmaker
HoLiNSHKD— England in the Sixteenth

Century
The Spanish Armada, The Last

Figlit of the Revenge, and

other Adventures of the Reign

of Queen Elizabeth
John Smiih — Early History of

Virginia
Macaulay's History, Chapters I 111.

3 Vols.
Macaulay's Essay on Hampden
Macaulay's Essay on the War of the

Spanish Succession
Orme— The Black Hole of Calcutta,

and the Battle of Plassey
Macaulay's Essay on Clive
Macaulay's Essay on Warren Hastings
Macaulay's Second Essay on Pitt,

Karl of Chatham
Burke's Speeches on America
Horace Walpole's Letters on the

American War of Independence
Horace Walpole's Letters on France

and the French Revolution
Napier's Battles of the Peninsular

War. 2 Vols.
I. Coruna, Talavcra, Batlajos.
1. Salamanca. .Sies;e of liurgos, Vittoria,
Siege of San Schasttan.
r.LAKENEv--The Retreat to Corunna
Richard Knoli.es — Wars with the

Turks
The Adventures of Montluc
Pkescott— The Conquest of Peru
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Prescott— The Capture of Mexico
'iHtcvDinES— The Siege of Syracuse
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Gibbon — The Age of the Antonines
Ammianus Marcellinus — Julian the

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