King Lear Part 15

Cor. Alack, 'tis 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 hardocks, hemlock, nettles, cuckoo flow'rs, Darnel, and all the idle weeds that grow In 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 In the restoring his bereaved sense?

He that helps him take all my outward worth.

Doct. There is means, madam.

Our foster nurse of nature is repose, The which he lacks. That to provoke in him Are many simples 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!

Lest his ungovern'd rage dissolve the life That wants the means to lead it.

Enter Messenger.

Mess. News, madam.

The British pow'rs 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 ag'd father's right.

Soon may I hear and see him!

Exeunt.

Scene V.

Gloucester's Castle.

Enter Regan and [Oswald the] Steward.

Reg. But are my brother's pow'rs set forth?

Osw. Ay, madam.

Reg. Himself in person there?

Osw. 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.

It was great ignorance, Gloucester's eyes being out, To let him live. Where he arrives he moves 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' th' 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 charg'd my duty in this business.

Reg. Why should she write to Edmund? Might not you Transport her purposes by word? Belike, Something- I know not what- I'll 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 eliads and most speaking looks To n.o.ble Edmund. I know you are of her bosom.

Osw. I, madam?

Reg. I speak in understanding. Y'are! I know't.

Therefore I do advise you take this note.

My lord is dead; Edmund and I have talk'd, 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 farewell.

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

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

Reg. Fare thee well. Exeunt.

Scene VI.

The country near Dover.

Enter Gloucester, and Edgar [like a Peasant].

Glou. When shall I come to th' 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. Y'are much deceiv'd. In nothing am I chang'd But in my garments.

Glou. Methinks y'are better spoken.

Edg. Come on, sir; here's the place. Stand still. How fearful And dizzy 'tis to cast one's eyes so low!

The crows and choughs that wing the midway air Show scarce so gross as beetles. Halfway down Hangs one that gathers sampire- 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 c.o.c.k; her c.o.c.k, a buoy Almost too small for sight. The murmuring surge That on th' unnumb'red idle pebble chafes Cannot be heard so high. I'll 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 th' extreme verge. For all beneath the moon Would I not leap upright.

Glou. Let go my hand.

Here, friend, is another purse; in it a jewel Well worth a poor man's taking. Fairies and G.o.ds Prosper it with thee! Go thou further off; Bid me farewell, and let me hear thee going.

Edg. Now fare ye well, good sir.

Glou. With all my heart.

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

Glou. O you mighty G.o.ds! He kneels.

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!

Now, fellow, fare thee well.

He falls [forward and swoons].

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 pa.s.s 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 fadom down precipitating, 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 alt.i.tude Which thou hast perpendicularly fell.

Thy life is a miracle. Speak yet again.

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

Edg. From the dread summit of this chalky bourn.

Look up a-height. The shrill-gorg'd lark so far Cannot be seen or heard. Do but look up.

Glou. Alack, I have no eyes!