Works    |    Last play                 ÆSOP SHAKESPEARE           Next play     |    Glossary
Created and designed by




Tragedies

King Lear
  • Last scene
  • Curtain
  • Complete play
  • ACT V SCENE III

    
     Dramatis Personae 
     Act I   Scene I 
     Act I   Scene II 
     Act I   Scene III 
     Act I   Scene IV 
     Act I   Scene V 
     Act II  Scene I 
     Act II  Scene II
     Act II  Scene III 
     Act II  Scene IV 
     Act III Scene I
     Act III Scene II 
     Act III Scene III
     Act III Scene IV
    
     Act III Scene V 
     Act III Scene VI 
     Act III Scene VII 
     Act IV  Scene I  
     Act IV  Scene II 
     Act IV  Scene III 
     Act IV  Scene IV 
     Act IV  Scene V 
     Act IV  Scene VI 
     Act IV  Scene VII 
     Act V   Scene I 
     Act V   Scene II 
     Act V   Scene III 
     Complete play


     Act V 

    
    ACT V: SCENE III	The British camp near Dover.

    
    	Enter, in conquest, with drum and colours, EDMUND,
    	KING LEAR and CORDELIA, prisoners; Captain,
    	Soldiers, &c
    
    EDMUND	Some officers take them away: good guard,
    	Until their greater pleasures first be known
    	That are to censure them.
    
    CORDELIA	We 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?
    
    KING 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's 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.
    
    EDMUND	Take them away.
    
    KING 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 good-years shall devour them, flesh and fell,
    	Ere they shall make us weep: we'll see 'em starve
    	first. Come.
    
    	Exeunt KING LEAR and CORDELIA, guarded
    
    EDMUND	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 a sword: thy great employment
    	Will not bear question; either say thou'lt do 't,
    	Or thrive by other means.
    
    Captain	I'll do 't, my lord.
    
    EDMUND	About it; and write happy when thou hast done.
    	Mark, I say, instantly; and carry it so
    	As I have set it down.
    
    Captain	I cannot draw a cart, nor eat dried oats;
    	If it be man's work, I'll do 't.
    
    	Exit
    
    	Flourish. Enter ALBANY, GONERIL, REGAN, another
    	Captain, and Soldiers
    
    ALBANY	Sir, you have shown to-day your valiant strain,
    	And fortune led you well: you have the captives
    	That were the opposites of this day's strife:
    	We do require them of you, so to use them
    	As we shall find their merits and our safety
    	May equally determine.
    
    EDMUND	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,
    	An turn our impress'd lances in our eyes
    	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.
    
    ALBANY	Sir, by your patience,
    	I hold you but a subject of this war,
    	Not as a brother.
    
    REGAN	                  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.
    
    GONERIL	Not so hot:
    	In his own grace he doth exalt himself,
    	More than in your addition.
    
    REGAN	In my rights,
    	By me invested, he compeers the best.
    
    GONERIL	That were the most, if he should husband you.
    
    REGAN	Jesters do oft prove prophets.
    
    GONERIL	Holla, holla!
    	That eye that told you so look'd but a-squint.
    
    REGAN	Lady, I am not well; else I should answer
    	From a full-flowing stomach. General,
    	Take thou my soldiers, prisoners, patrimony;
    	Dispose of them, of me; the walls are thine:
    	Witness the world, that I create thee here
    	My lord and master.
    
    GONERIL	Mean you to enjoy him?
    
    ALBANY	The let-alone lies not in your good will.
    
    EDMUND	Nor in thine, lord.
    
    ALBANY	Half-blooded fellow, yes.
    
    REGAN	To EDMUND  Let the drum strike, and prove my title thine.
    
    ALBANY	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:
    	'Tis she is sub-contracted to this lord,
    	And I, her husband, contradict your bans.
    	If you will marry, make your loves to me,
    	My lady is bespoke.
    
    GONERIL	An interlude!
    
    ALBANY	Thou art arm'd, Gloucester: let the trumpet sound:
    	If none appear to prove upon thy head
    	Thy heinous, manifest, and many treasons,
    	There is my pledge;
    
    	Throwing down a glove
    
    	I'll prove it on thy heart,
    	Ere I taste bread, thou art in nothing less
    	Than I have here proclaim'd thee.
    
    REGAN	Sick, O, sick!
    
    GONERIL	Aside  If not, I'll ne'er trust medicine.
    
    EDMUND	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
    	My truth and honour firmly.
    
    ALBANY	A herald, ho!
    
    EDMUND	                  A herald, ho, a herald!
    
    ALBANY	Trust to thy single virtue; for thy soldiers,
    	All levied in my name, have in my name
    	Took their discharge.
    
    REGAN	My sickness grows upon me.
    
    ALBANY	She is not well; convey her to my tent.
    
    	Exit Regan, led
    
    	Enter a Herald
    
    	Come hither, herald,--Let the trumpet sound,
    	And read out this.
    
    Captain	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 Gloucester, that he is a manifold
    	traitor, let him appear by the third sound of the
    	trumpet: he is bold in his defence.'
    
    EDMUND	Sound!
    
    	First trumpet
    
    Herald	Again!
    
    	Second trumpet
    
    Herald	Again!
    
    	Third trumpet
    
    	Trumpet answers within
    
    	Enter EDGAR, at the third sound, armed, with a
    	trumpet before him
    
    ALBANY	Ask him his purposes, why he appears
    	Upon this call o' the trumpet.
    
    Herald	What are you?
    	Your name, your quality? and why you answer
    	This present summons?
    
    EDGAR	Know, my name is lost;
    	By treason's tooth bare-gnawn and canker-bit:
    	Yet am I noble as the adversary
    	I come to cope.
    
    ALBANY	                  Which is that adversary?
    
    EDGAR	What's he that speaks for Edmund Earl of Gloucester?
    
    EDMUND	Himself: what say'st thou to him?
    
    EDGAR	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,
    	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 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,
    	Thou liest.
    
    EDMUND	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
    
    ALBANY	Save him, save him!
    
    GONERIL	This is practise, Gloucester:
    	By the law of arms thou wast not bound to answer
    	An unknown opposite; thou art not vanquish'd,
    	But cozen'd and beguiled.
    
    ALBANY	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
    
    GONERIL	Say, if I do, the laws are mine, not thine:
    	Who can arraign me for't.
    
    ALBANY	Most monstrous! oh!
    	Know'st thou this paper?
    
    GONERIL	Ask me not what I know.
    
    	Exit
    
    ALBANY	Go after her: she's desperate; govern her.
    
    EDMUND	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'rt noble,
    	I do forgive thee.
    
    EDGAR	                  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
    	Make instruments to plague us:
    	The dark and vicious place where thee he got
    	Cost him his eyes.
    
    EDMUND	                  Thou hast spoken right, 'tis true;
    	The wheel is come full circle: I am here.
    
    ALBANY	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!
    
    EDGAR	Worthy prince, I know't.
    
    ALBANY	Where have you hid yourself?
    	How have you known the miseries of your father?
    
    EDGAR	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 disdain'd: and in this habit
    	Met I my father with his bleeding rings,
    	Their precious stones new lost: became his guide,
    	Led him, begg'd for him, saved him from despair;
    	Never,--O fault!--reveal'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.
    
    EDMUND	This speech of yours hath moved me,
    	And shall perchance do good: but speak you on;
    	You look as you had something more to say.
    
    ALBANY	If there be more, more woeful, hold it in;
    	For I am almost ready to dissolve,
    	Hearing of this.
    
    EDGAR	                  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
    	Who 'twas that so endured, with his strong arms
    	He fastened on my neck, and bellow'd out
    	As he'ld 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.
    
    ALBANY	But who was this?
    
    EDGAR	Kent, sir, the banish'd Kent; who in disguise
    	Follow'd his enemy king, and did him service
    	Improper for a slave.
    
    	Enter a Gentleman, with a bloody knife
    
    Gentleman	Help, help, O, help!
    
    EDGAR	What kind of help?
    
    ALBANY	Speak, man.
    
    EDGAR	What means that bloody knife?
    
    Gentleman	'Tis hot, it smokes;
    	It came even from the heart of--O, she's dead!
    
    ALBANY	Who dead? speak, man.
    
    Gentleman	Your lady, sir, your lady: and her sister
    	By her is poisoned; she hath confess'd it.
    
    EDMUND	I was contracted to them both: all three
    	Now marry in an instant.
    
    EDGAR	Here comes Kent.
    
    ALBANY	Produce their bodies, be they alive or dead:
    	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?
    
    ALBANY	                  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?
    
    EDMUND	                  Yet Edmund was beloved:
    	The one the other poison'd for my sake,
    	And after slew herself.
    
    ALBANY	Even so. Cover their faces.
    
    EDMUND	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.
    
    ALBANY	                  Run, run, O, run!
    
    EDGAR	To who, my lord? Who hath the office? send
    	Thy token of reprieve.
    
    EDMUND	Well thought on: take my sword,
    	Give it the captain.
    
    ALBANY	Haste thee, for thy life.
    
    	Exit EDGAR
    
    EDMUND	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.
    
    ALBANY	The gods defend her! Bear him hence awhile.
    
    	EDMUND is borne off
    
    	Re-enter KING LEAR, with CORDELIA dead in his arms;
    	EDGAR, Captain, and others following
    
    KING LEAR	Howl, howl, howl, howl! O, you are men of stones:
    	Had I your tongues and eyes, I'ld use them so
    	That heaven's vault should crack. She's 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
    
    EDGAR	Or image of that horror?
    
    ALBANY	Fall, and cease!
    
    KING 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!
    
    KING LEAR	Prithee, away.
    
    EDGAR	'Tis noble Kent, your friend.
    
    KING LEAR	A plague upon you, murderers, traitors all!
    	I might have saved her; now she's gone for ever!
    	Cordelia, Cordelia! stay a little. Ha!
    	What is't thou say'st? Her voice was ever soft,
    	Gentle, and low, an excellent thing in woman.
    	I kill'd the slave that was a-hanging thee.
    
    Captain	'Tis true, my lords, he did.
    
    KING LEAR	Did I not, fellow?
    	I have seen the day, with my good biting falchion
    	I would have made them skip: I am old now,
    	And these same crosses spoil me. Who are you?
    	Mine eyes are not o' the best: I'll tell you straight.
    
    KENT	If fortune brag of two she loved and hated,
    	One of them we behold.
    
    KING LEAR	This is a dull sight. Are you not Kent?
    
    KENT	The same,
    	Your servant Kent: Where is your servant Caius?
    
    KING 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,--
    
    KING LEAR	I'll see that straight.
    
    KENT	That, from your first of difference and decay,
    	Have follow'd your sad steps.
    
    KING LEAR	You are welcome hither.
    
    KENT	Nor no man else: all's cheerless, dark, and deadly.
    	Your eldest daughters have fordone them selves,
    	And desperately are dead.
    
    KING LEAR	Ay, so I think.
    
    ALBANY	He knows not what he says: and vain it is
    	That we present us to him.
    
    EDGAR	Very bootless.
    
    	Enter a Captain
    
    Captain	Edmund is dead, my lord.
    
    ALBANY	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:
    	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!
    
    KING 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'lt 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!
    
    	Dies
    
    EDGAR	He faints! My lord, my lord!
    
    KENT	Break, heart; I prithee, break!
    
    EDGAR	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.
    
    EDGAR	He is gone, indeed.
    
    KENT	The wonder is, he hath endured so long:
    	He but usurp'd his life.
    
    ALBANY	Bear them from hence. Our present business
    	Is general woe.
    
    	To KENT and EDGAR
    
    	Friends of my soul, you twain
    	Rule in this realm, and the gored state sustain.
    
    KENT	I have a journey, sir, shortly to go;
    	My master calls me, I must not say no.
    
    ALBANY	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
    
    
    

    Last scene | This scene | All scenes | Dramatis Personæ | All works | Curtain | Complete play