Page 22
p. 22
The
Tragedy
of
King
Lear.
The
Duke
must
grant
me
that:
besides,
his
picture
I
will
send
far
and
near,
that
all
the
Kingdom
My
have
due
note
of
him,
and
of
my
land,
(Loyal
and
natural
Boy)
I'le
work
the
means
To
make
thee
capable.
Enter
Cornwall,
Regan,
and
Attendants.
Corn.
How
now,
my
noble
friend,
since
I
came
hither
(Which
I
can
call
but
now)
I
have
heard
strangeness.
Reg,
If
it
be
true,
all
vengeance
comes
too
short
Which
can
pursue
th’offender:
how
does
my
Lord?
Glo.
O
Madam,
my
old
heart
is
crack’d,
it’s
crack’d.
Reg.
What,
did
my
Father’s
Godson
seek
your
life?
He
whom
my
father
nam’d,
your
Edgar:
Glo.
O
Lady,
Lady,
shame
would
have
it
hid.
Reg.
Was
he
not
compainon
with
the
riotous
Knights
That
tended
upon
my
father?
Glo.
I
know
not,
Madam,
’tis
too
bad,
too
bad.
Bast.
Yes,
Madam,
he
was
of
that
consort.
Reg.
No
marvel
then,
though
he
were
ill-affected,
’Tis
they
have
put
him
on
the
old
man’s
death,
To
have
th’expence
and
wast
of
Revenues;
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’le
not
be
there.
Cor.
Nor
I,
assure
thee,
Regan;
Edmund,
I
hear
that
you
have
shewn
your
Father
A
Child-like
Office.
Bast.
It
is
my
duty,
Sir.
Glo.
He
did
bewray
his
practice,
and
receiv’d
This
hurt
you
see,
striving
to
apprehend
him.
Cor.
Is
he
pursued?
Glo.
I,
my
good
Lord.
Cor.
If
he
be
taken,
he
shall
never
more
Be
fear’d
of
doing
harm,
make
your
own
purpose,
How
in
my
strength
you
please:
as
for
you,
Edmund,
Whose
virtue
and
obedience
doth
this
instant
So
much
commend
it
self,
you
shall
be
ours,
Natures
of
such
deep
trust,
we
shall
much
need:
You
we
first
seize
on.
Bast.
I
shall
serve
you,
Sir,
truly,
how
ever
else.
Glo.
For
him
I
thank
your
Grace.
Cor.
You
know
not
why
we
came
to
visit
you.
Reg.
Thus
out
of
season,
thredding
dark-ey’d
night,
Occasions
Noble
Gloster
of
some
prize.
Wherein
we
must
have
use
of
your
advice.
Our
Father
he
hath
writ,
so
hath
our
Sister,
Of
differences,
which
I
best
thought
it
fit
To
answer
from
our
home:
the
several
Messengers
From
hence
attend
dispatch,
our
good
old
friend
Lay
comforts
to
your
bosome,
and
bestow
Your
needful
counsel
to
our
businesses,
Which
craves
the
instant
use.
Glo.
I
serve
you,
Madam,
Your
Graces
are
right
welcom.
[Exeunt.
Scena
Secunda.
Enter
Kent,
and
Steward,
severally.
Stew.
Good
dawning
to
thee,
friend,
art
of
this
house?
Kent.
I.
Stew.
Where
may
we
set
our
horses?
Kent.
I
th’mire.
Stew.
Prythee
if
thou
lov’st
me,
tell
me.
Kent.
I
love
thee
not.
Stew.
Why
then
I
care
not
for
thee.
Kent.
If
I
had
thee
in
Lipsbury
Pinfold,
I
would
make
thee
care
for
me.
Stew.
Why
dost
thou
use
me
thus?
I
know
thee
not.
Kent.
Fellow,
I
know
thee.
Stew.
Enter
Edgar.
Brother,
a
word,
descend,
brother
I
say,
My
Father
watches;
O
Sir,
fly
this
place,
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’th’
night,
i’th’haste,
And
Regan
with
him,
have
you
nothing
said
Upon
his
party
’gainst
the
Duke
of
Albany?
Advise
your
self.
Edg.
I
am
sure
on’t,
not
a
word.
Bast.
I
hear
my
Father
coming,
pardon
me:
In
cunning,
I
must
draw
my
Sword
upon
you:
Draw,
seem
to
defend
your
self,
Now
quit
you
well.
Yield,
come
before
my
father,
light
hoa,
here,
Fly,
Brother,
Torches,
so
farewel,
[Exit
Edgar.
Some
bloud
drawn
on
me
would
beget
opinion
Of
my
mere
fierce
endeavour.
I
have
seen
drunkards
Do
more
than
this
in
sport;
Father,
father,
Stop,
stop,
no
help?
Enter
Gloster,
and
Servants
with
Torches.
Glo.
Now,
Edmund,
where’s
the
villain?
Bast.
Here
stood
he
in
the
dark,
his
sharp
Sword
out,
Mumbling
of
wicked
Charms,
conjuring
the
Moon
To
stand
his
auspicious
Mistress.
Glo.
But
where
is
he?
Bast.
Look,
Sir,
I
bleed.
v
Glo.
Where
is
the
villain,
Edmund?
Bast.
Fled
this
way,
Sir,
when
by
no
means
he
could—
Glo.
Pursue
him,
ho:
go
after.
By
no
means,
what?
Bast.
Perswade
me
to
murther
of
your
Lordship,
But
that
I
told
him
the
revenging
gods,
’Gainst
Parricides
did
all
the
thunder
bend,
Spoke
with
how
manifold,
and
strong
a
Bond
The
Child
was
bound
to
th'
Father.
Sir,
in
fine,
Seeing
how
lothly
opposite
I
stood
To
his
unnatural
purpose,
in
fell
motion
With
his
prepared
Sword,
he
charges
home
My
unprovided
body,
latch’d
mine
Arm:
And
when
he
saw
my
best
alarm’d
Spirits
Bold
in
the
quarrels
right,
rouz’d
to
th’encounter,
Or
whether
gasted
by
the
noise
I
made,
Full
suddenly
he
fled.
Glo.
Let
him
flye
far:
Not
in
this
land
shall
he
remain
uncaught
And
sound;
dispatch,
the
Noble
Duke
my
Master,
My
worth
Arch
and
Patron
comes
to
night,
By
his
Authority
I
will
proclaim
it,
That
he
which
finds
him
shall
deserve
our
thanks,
Bringing
the
murderous
Coward
to
the
stake:
He
that
conceals
him,
death.
Bast.
When
I
disswaded
him
from
his
intent,
And
found
him
pight
to
do
it,
with
curst
speech
I
threatned
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
should
I
deny,
(As
this
I
would,
though
thou
did’st
produce
My
very
Character)
I’ll
turn
it
all
To
thy
suggestion,
plot,
and
damned
practice:
And
thou
must
make
a
dullard
of
the
world,
If
they
not
thought
the
profits
of
my
death
Were
very
pregnant
and
potential
Spirits
To
make
thee
seek
it.
[Tucket
within.
Glo.
O
strange
and
fastned
Villain!
Would
he
deny
his
Letter,
said
he?
Heark,
the
Duke’s
trumpets,
I
know
not
where
he
comes,
All
Ports
I’le
bar,
the
villain
shall
not
scape,
94