Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

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
To be exposed against the warring winds?
To stand against the deep dread-bolted thunder?
In the most terrible and nimble stroke

Of quick, cross-lightning? to watch (poor perdu!)
With this thin helm? Mine enemy's dog,
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!
'Tis wonder, that thy life and wits at once
Had not concluded all. He wakes; speak to him.
Phys. Madam, do you; 'tis 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!

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,
To see another thus.-I know not what to say.-
I will not swear, these are my hands :-let's see;
I feel 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, 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;
For, as I am a man, I think this lady
To be my child Cordelia.

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.

[blocks in formation]
[blocks in formation]
[blocks in formation]
[blocks in formation]

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,
And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh
At gilded butterflies, and hear poor rogues
Talk of court news; and we'll talk with them too,-
Who loses, and who wins: who's in, who's out;-
And take upon us the mystery of things,
As if we were God's spies: And we'll wear out,
In a wall'd prison, packs and sects of great ones,
That ebb and flow by the moon.

Elm.
Take them away.
Lear. Upon such sacrifices, my Cordelia,
The gods themselves throw incense. Have I
caught thee?

He that parts us, shall bring a brand from Heaven, And fire us hence, like foxes. Wipe thine eyes; The 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
As this instructs thee, thou dost make thy way
To noble fortunes. Know thou this,-that men
Are as the time is; to be tender minded

Does not become asword.-Thy great employment
Will not bear question; either say, thou'lt do it,
Or thrive by other means.

Off.

I'll do't, my lord

[blocks in formation]

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,
Thy arm may do thee justice; here is mine,
Behold, it is the privilege of mine honours,
My oath, and my profession. I protest.-
Maugre thy strength*, youth, place, and eminence,
Despite thy victor sword, and fire new fortune,
Thy valour, and thy heart, thou art a traitor :
False to thy gods, thy brother, and thy father;
Conspirant 'gainst this high illustrious prince;
And, from the extremest upward of thy head,
To the descent and dust beneath thy feet,
A most toad-spotted traitor. Say thou No.
This sword, this arm, and my best spirits, are bent
To prove upon thy heart, whereto I speak,
Thou liest.

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,
What safe and nicely I might well delay,
By rule of knighthood I disdain and spurn.
Back do I toss these treasons to thy head;
With the hell-hated lie o'erwhelm thy heart;
Which, (for they yet glance by, and scarcely bruise,)
This sword of mine shall give them instant way,
Where they shall rest for ever.-Trumpets, speak.
[Alarums. They fight. EDMUND falls.
Alb. O save him, save him!

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?

[blocks in formation]

Knowest thou this paper?

[Exit.

Gon. Ask me not what I know.
Alb. Go after her: she's desperate; govern her.
[To an Officer, who goes out.
Edm. What you have charged me with, that
have I done;

And more, much more; the time will bring it out;
'Tis past, and so am I.
But what art thou,

That hast this fortune on me? If thou art noble,
I do forgive thee.

[1 Trumpet. Edg. Let's exchange charity.
[2 Trumpet. I am no less in blood than thou art, Edmund;
[3 Trumpet. If more, the more thou hast wrong'd me.
My name is Edgar, and thy father's son.

[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?

[blocks in formation]

And when 'tis told, oh that my heart would break!
The proclamation to escape that follow'd me,

Edg. What's he that speaks for Edmund, earl Taught me to shift into a madman's rags;

[blocks in formation]

And-saved him from despair.

Never (oh fault!) reveal'd myself to him,
Until some half-hour past, when I was armed-
Not sure, but 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 has mov'd me,
And shall, perchance, do good.

Enter a Gentleman, hastily, with a knife covered with blood.

Gent. Help, help, oh, help!

Edg. What means that reeking knife?
Gent. It came even from the heart of-

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.
Alb. Great thing of us forgot. Speak, Edmund,
Where's the king, and where's Cordelia ?
The bodies of REGAN and CORDELIA are brought in.
Kent. Alack, why thus?

Edm. Yet Edmund was beloved.
The one the other poisoned for my sake,
And after slew herself.

Alb. 'Tis 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 of Cordelia ?

Edg. Who has the office?
reprieve.
Edm. Well thought on;
Give it the captain.

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;
She's dead as earth :-Lend me a looking-glass;
If that her breath will mist or stain the stone,
Why, then she lives.
Kent.
Is this the promised end?
Edg. Or image of that horror?
Alb.

Fall and cease
Lear. This feather stirs; she lives! if it be so
It is a chance that does redeem all sorrows
That ever I have felt.

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!

[blocks in formation]

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.
You are welcome hither.
Kent. Nor no man else; all's cheerless, dark,
and deadly.

Your eldest daughters have fore-doom'd themselves,
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 an Officer.

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

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? O, thou wilt come

no more,

Never, never, never, never, never!—
Pray you, undo this button: Thank you, sir.-
Do you see this? Look on her,-look,―her lips.—
Look there, look there!
[He dies.
Edg.
He faints!-my lord, my lord,-
Kent. Break, heart; I pr'ythee break!
Edg.
Look up, my lord.
Kent. Vex not his ghost: O let him pass! he
hates him,

That would upon the rack of this tough world
Stretch him out longer.

Edg.
O, he is gone indeed.
Kent. The wonder is, he hath endured so long:
He but usurp'd his life.

* 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
[To KENT and EDGAR.
Rule in this realm, and the gored state sustain.
Kent. I have a journey, sir, shortly to go;

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.

[blocks in formation]

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.

[blocks in formation]

What is your will?

La Cap. This is the matter:-Nurse, give leave awhile,

We must talk in secret.-Nurse, come back again;
I have remember'd me, thou shalt hear our counsel.
Thou know'st, my daughter's of a pretty age.
Tell me, daughter Juliet,

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:
Read o'er the volume of young Paris' face,
And find delight writ there with beauty's pen;
Examine every several lineament,
And see how one another lends content;
And what obscur'd in this fair volume lies,
Find written in the margin of his eyes.
Speak briefly, can you like of Paris' love?

Jul. I'll look to like, if looking liking move:
But no more deep will I endart mine eye,
Than your consent gives strength to make it fly.

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?
Mer.

true.

[blocks in formation]

Drawn with a team of little atomies*
Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep:
Her waggon-spokes made of long spinners' legs,
The cover, of the wings of grasshoppers;
Her traces of the smallest spider's web;
Her collars of the moonshine's watery beams;
Her whip of cricket's bone; the lash of film :
Her waggoner a small grey-coated gnat,
Not half so big as a round little worm
Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid:
Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut,
Made by the joiner squirrel, or old grub,
Time out o' mind the fairies' coach-makers.
And in this state she gallops night by night
Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of
love:

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
Of a despised life, clos'd in my breast,
By some vile forfeit of untimely death:
But He, that hath the steerage of my course,
Direct my sail!-On, lusty gentlemen.
Ben. Strike, drum.

[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,
That I have worn a visor; and could tell
A whispering tale in a fair lady's ear,

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;
Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear!
So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows,
As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows.
The measure done, I'll watch her place of stand,
And touching hers, make blessed my rude hand.

* Atoms.

Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight!
For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.

Tyb. This, by his voice, should be a Montague :-
Fetch me my rapier, boy:-What? dares the slave
Come hither, cover'd with an antic face,
To fleer and scorn at our solemnity?
Now by the stock and honour of my kin,
To strike him dead I hold it not a sin.

1 Cap. Why, how now, kinsman? wherefore storm you so?

Tyb. Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe:
A villain that is hither come in spite,
To scorn at our solemnity this night.
1 Cap. Young Romeo is't?

Tyb.
'Tis he, that villain Romeo.
1 Cap. Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone,
He bears him like a portly gentleman;
And, to say truth, Verona brags of him,
To be a virtuous and well-govern'd youth;
I would not for the wealth of all this town,
Here in my house, do him disparagement;
Therefore be patient, take no note of him,
It is my will; the which if thou respect,
Show a fair presence, and put
off these frowns,
An ill-beseeming semblance for a feast.

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:

« AnteriorContinuar »