Cor. Had you not been their father, these white | Remembers not these garments; nor I know not flakes Had challenged pity of them. Was this a face Of quick, cross-lightning? to watch (poor perdu!) 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 Cor. Sir, do you know me? Lear. You are a spirit, I know; When did you die? Cor. Still, still, far wide! Phys. He's scarce awake; let him alone awhile. Lear. Where have I been? Where am I?-Fair daylight? I am mightily abused.-I should even die with pity, Cor. Lear Pray, do not mock me: I am a very foolish, fond old man, Fourscore and upward; and, to deal plainly, I fear, I am not in my perfect mind. Methinks, I should know you, and know this man; Yet I am doubtful: for I am mainly ignorant What place this is; and all the skill I have Where I did lodge last night: Do not laugh at me; Cor. And so I am, I am. Lear. Be your tears wet? Yes, 'faith. I pray, weep If you have poison for me, I will drink it. [not: 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. Lear. Am I in France? Kent. No cause, no cause. In your own kingdom, sir. Lear. Do not abuse me. Cor. Edm. Some officers take them away; good guard; Until their greater pleasures first be known, That are to censure them. We are not the first, Who, with best meaning have incurr'd the worst. For thee, oppressed king, am I cast down; Myselfcould 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: We two alone will sing like birds i' the cage : When thou dost ask me blessing, I'll kneel down, And ask of thee forgiveness: So we'll live, Elm. He that parts us, shall bring a brand from Heaven, And fire us hence, like foxes. Wipe thine eyes; The goujeers shall devour them, flesh and fell, Ere they shall make us weep; we'll see them starve first. Come. [Exeunt LEAR and CORDELIA, guarded. Edm. Come hither, captain; hark. Take thou this note; [giving a paper,] go, follow them to prison : One step I have advanced thee; if thou dost Does not become asword.-Thy great employment Off. I'll do't, my lord SCENE.-Another part of the field. Enter ALBANY, EDMUND, with forces, and heralds. Edm. Come hither, herald,-Let the trumpet sound, And read out this. Of. Sound, trumpet. [A trumpet sounds. Herald reads. If any man of quality, or degree, within the lists of the army, will maintain upon Edmund, supposed earl of Gloster, that he is a manifold traitor, lel him appear at the third sound of the trumpet. He is bold in his defence. Edm. Sound. Her. Again. Her. Again. That, if my speech offend a noble heart, Edm. In wisdom, I should ask thy name; Gon. This is mere practice, Gloster; By the law of arms, thou wast not bound to answer An unknown opposite; thou art not vanquish'd, But cozen'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 the letter to EDMUND. Gon. Say, if I do : the laws are mine, not thine : Who shall arraign me for't? Knowest thou this paper? [Exit. Gon. Ask me not what I know. And more, much more; the time will bring it out; That hast this fortune on me? If thou art noble, [1 Trumpet. Edg. Let's exchange charity. [Trumpet answers within. Enter EDGAR, armed, preceded by a Trumpet. Alb. Ask him his purposes, why he appears Upon this call o' the trumpet. What are you? Her. Your name, your quality? and why you answer This present summons ? Edg. Know, my name is lost; By treason's tooth bare gnawn, and canker bit: Yet I am noble, as the adversary I come to cope withal. Alb. Which is that adversary? And when 'tis told, oh that my heart would break! Edg. What's he that speaks for Edmund, earl Taught me to shift into a madman's rags; And-saved him from despair. Never (oh fault!) reveal'd myself to him, Edm. This speech of yours has mov'd me, Enter a Gentleman, hastily, with a knife covered with blood. Gent. Help, help, oh, help! Edg. What means that reeking knife? Alb. Whe, man? speak! Gent. Your lady, sir, your lady; and her sister, By her is poisoned-she confesses it. Alb. Produce their bodies-be they alive or dead. This judgment of heaven, which makes us tremble, Touches us not with pity. [Exit Gentleman. Kent. I'm come Enter KENT. To bid my king and master aye good-night. Edm. Yet Edmund was beloved. Alb. 'Tis even so-cover their faces. Quickly send Be brief in it-to the castle-for my writ Edg. Who has the office? Alb. Haste thee for thy life. Send the token of take my sword. [Exit EDGAR. [EDMUND is borne off, dying. Enter LEAR, with CORDELIA dead in his arms: EDGAR, Officer, and others. Lear. Howl, howl, howl, howl!-O, you are men of stones; Had I your tongues and eyes, I'd use them so That heaven's vault should crack :-O, she is gone for ever! I know, when one is dead, and when one lives; Fall and cease Kent. O my good master! [Kneeling. Lear. Pr'ythee, away. Edg. 'Tis noble Kent, your friend. Lear. A plague upon you, murderers, traitors all! I might have saved her; now she's gone for ever! I have seen the day, with my good biting faulchion I would have made them skip: I am old now, And these same crosses spoil me.-Who are you? Mine eyes are none o' the best :-I'll tell you straight. Kent. If fortune brag of two she loved and hated, One of them we behold. Lear. This is a dull sight; Are you not Kent? 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 Kent. No, my good lord. I am the very man. Lear. I'll see that straight. Kent, That, from your first of difference and decay, rotten. Have follow'd your sad steps. Lear. Your eldest daughters have fore-doom'd themselves, Ay, so I think. Very bootless. Enter an Officer. Off. Edmund is dead, my lord. That's but a trifle here. Lear. And my poor fool* is hang'd! No, no, no life: Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life, no more, Never, never, never, never, never!— That would upon the rack of this tough world Edg. * Poor fool was a term of familiar endearment. Alb. Bear them from hence. - Our present | My master calls, and I must not say, no. business Is general woe. Friends of my soul, you twain Alb. The weight of this sad time we must obey; Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say. The oldest hath borne most: we, that are young, Shall never see so much, nor live so long. [Exeunt with a dead march. SCENE. A Room in Capulet's House at Verona. Enter Lady CAPULET and NURse. Enter a Servant. Serv. Madam, the guests are come, supper La. Cap. Nurse, where's my daughter? call her served up, you called, my young lady asked for, forth to me. What is your will? La Cap. This is the matter:-Nurse, give leave awhile, We must talk in secret.-Nurse, come back again; How stands your disposition to be married? Jul. It is an honour that I dream not of. La. Cap. Well, think of marriage now, in brief;The valiant Paris seeks you for his love. Nurse. A man, young lady! lady, such a man, As all the world-Why, he's a man of wax. La. Cap. Verona's summer hath not such a flower. Nurse. Nay, he's a flower; in faith, a very flower. La. Cap. What say you? can you love the gen tleman ? This night you shall behold him at our feast: Jul. I'll look to like, if looking liking move: the nurse cursed in the pantry, and everything in extremity. I must hence to wait; I beseech you, follow straight. La. Cap. We follow thee.--Juliet, the county stays. SCENE.-A Street in Verona. Enter ROMEO, MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, with five or six Maskers, Torch Bearers, and others. Rom. Give me a torch,-I am not for this ambling; Being but heavy I will bear the light. Mer. Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance. Rom. Not I, believe me: you have dancing shoes, With nimble soles: I have a soul of lead, So stakes me to the ground I cannot move. Mer. You are a lover; borrow Cupid's wings, And soar with them above a common bound. Rom. I am too sore enpierced with his shaft, To soar with his light feathers; and to boundI cannot bound a pitch above dull woe: Under love's heavy burden do I sink. Now we mean well in going to this mask, But 'tis no wit to go. Mer. Why, may one ask? Rom. I dreamt a dream to-night. Mer. And so did I. That dreamers often lie. Rom. In bed, asleep, while they do dream things Rom. Well, what was yours? true. Drawn with a team of little atomies* On courtiers' knees, that dream on court'sies straight: O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees: O'er ladies' lips, who straight on kisses dream. Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace, Rom. Thou talk'st of nothing. Mer. True, I talk of dreams, Which are the children of an idle brain, Begot of nothing but vain fantasy; Which is as thin of substance as the air; And more inconstant than the wind who woos Even now the frozen bosom of the north, And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence, Turning his face to the dew-dropping south. Ben. This wind, you talk of, blows us from ourselves; Supper is done, and we shall come too late. Rom. I fear, too early; for my mind misgives Some consequence, yet hanging in the stars, Shall bitterly begin bis fearful date With this night's revels; and expire the term [Exeunt. SCENE.-A Hall in Capulet's House, Musicians waiting. Enter Servants. Enter CAPULET, &c., with the Guests, and the Maskers. Welcome, gentlemen! I have seen the day, Such as would please; 'tis gone, 'tis gone, 'tis gone : You are welcome, gentlemen!-Come, musicians, play. A hall! a hall give room, and foot it, girls. [Music plays, and they dance. Rom. What lady's that, which doth enrich the hand Of yonder knight? Serv. I know not, sir. Rom. O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright! Her beauty hangs upon the cheek of night As a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear; * Atoms. Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight! Tyb. This, by his voice, should be a Montague :- 1 Cap. Why, how now, kinsman? wherefore storm you so? Tyb. Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe: Tyb. Tyb. It fits, when such a villain is a guest; I'll not endure him. 1 Cap. He shall be endur'd. Tyb. Why, uncle, 'tis a shame. 1 Cap. Go to, go to. Tyb. Patience perforce with wilful choler meeting, Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting. I will withdraw: but this intrusion shall, Now seeming sweet, convert to bitter gall. [Exit, Rom. If I profane with my unworthiest hand [To JULIET. This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this,My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss. Jul. Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, Which mannerly devotion shows in this; For saints have hands that pilgrims hands do touch, And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss. Rom. Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too? Jul. Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer. Rom. O then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do; They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair. Jul. Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake. Rom. Then move not, while my prayers' effect I take. Thus from my lips, by thine my sin is urg'd. [Kissing her. Jul. Then have my lips the sin that they have took. Rom. Sin from my lips? urg'd; Give me my sin again. Jul. O trespass sweetly You kiss by the book. Nurse. Madam, your mother craves a word with you. Rom. What is her mother? Nurse. Marry, bachelor, Her mother is the lady of the house, And a good lady, and a wise and virtuous: |