pid	:: 	speaker	::	lineinplay	::	theline 
klear	:	KENT	::	1	::	 I thought the King had more affected the Duke of Albany than Cornwall.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	2	::	 It did always seem so to us; but now, in the division of the kingdom, it appears not which of the Dukes he values most, for qualities are so weighed that curiosity in neither can make choice of either’s moiety.
klear	::	KENT	::	3	::	 Is not this your son, my lord?
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	4	::	 His breeding, sir, hath been at my charge: I have so often blush’d to acknowledge him that now I am braz’d to’t.
klear	::	KENT	::	5	::	 I cannot conceive you.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	6	::	 Sir, this young fellow’s mother could; whereupon she grew round-wombed, and had indeed, sir, a son for her cradle ere she had a husband for her bed. Do you smell a fault?
klear	::	KENT	::	7	::	 I cannot wish the fault undone, the issue of it being so proper.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	8	::	 But I have a son, sir, by order of law, some year elder than this, who yet is no dearer in my account: though this knave came something saucily to the world before he was sent for, yet was his mother fair; there was good sport at his making, and the whoreson must be acknowledged. Do you know this noble gentleman, Edmund?
klear	::	EDMUND	::	9	::	 No, my lord.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	10	::	 My Lord of Kent: remember him hereafter as my honourable friend.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	11	::	 My services to your lordship.
klear	::	KENT	::	12	::	 I must love you, and sue to know you better.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	13	::	 Sir, I shall study deserving.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	14	::	 He hath been out nine years, and away he shall again. The King is coming.
klear	::	LEAR	::	15	::	 Attend the lords of France and Burgundy, Gloucester.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	16	::	 I shall, my lord.
klear	::	LEAR	::	17	::	 Meantime we shall express our darker purpose. Give me the map there. Know that we have divided In three our kingdom: and ’tis our fast intent To shake all cares and business from our age; Conferring them on younger strengths, while we Unburden’d crawl toward death. Our son of Cornwall, And you, our no less loving son of Albany, We have this hour a constant will to publish Our daughters’ several dowers, that future strife May be prevented now. The princes, France and Burgundy, Great rivals in our youngest daughter’s love, Long in our court have made their amorous sojourn, And here are to be answer’d. Tell me, my daughters,— Since now we will divest us both of rule, Interest of territory, cares of state,— Which of you shall we say doth love us most? That we our largest bounty may extend Where nature doth with merit challenge.—Goneril, Our eldest born, speak first.
klear	::	GONERIL	::	18	::	 Sir, I love you more than word can wield the matter; Dearer than eyesight, space, and liberty; Beyond what can be valu’d, rich or rare; No less than life, with grace, health, beauty, honour; As much as child e’er lov’d, or father found; A love that makes breath poor and speech unable; Beyond all manner of so much I love you.
klear	::	CORDELIA	::	19	::	  What shall Cordelia speak? Love, and be silent.
klear	::	LEAR	::	20	::	 Of all these bounds, even from this line to this, With shadowy forests and with champains rich’d, With plenteous rivers and wide-skirted meads, We make thee lady: to thine and Albany’s issue Be this perpetual.—What says our second daughter, Our dearest Regan, wife of Cornwall? Speak.
klear	::	REGAN	::	21	::	 Sir, I am made of the self mettle as my sister, And prize me at her worth. In my true heart I find she names my very deed of love; Only she comes too short, that I profess Myself an enemy to all other joys Which the most precious square of sense possesses, And find I am alone felicitate In your dear highness’ love.
klear	::	CORDELIA	::	22	::	  Then poor Cordelia, And yet not so; since, I am sure, my love’s More ponderous than my tongue.
klear	::	LEAR	::	23	::	 To thee and thine hereditary ever Remain this ample third of our fair kingdom; No less in space, validity, and pleasure Than that conferr’d on Goneril.—Now, our joy, Although the last and least; to whose young love The vines of France and milk of Burgundy Strive to be interess’d; what can you say to draw A third more opulent than your sisters? Speak.
klear	::	CORDELIA	::	24	::	 Nothing, my lord.
klear	::	LEAR	::	25	::	 Nothing?
klear	::	CORDELIA	::	26	::	 Nothing.
klear	::	LEAR	::	27	::	 Nothing will come of nothing: speak again.
klear	::	CORDELIA	::	28	::	 Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave My heart into my mouth: I love your majesty According to my bond; no more nor less.
klear	::	LEAR	::	29	::	 How, how, Cordelia? Mend your speech a little, Lest you may mar your fortunes.
klear	::	CORDELIA	::	30	::	 Good my lord, You have begot me, bred me, lov’d me: I Return those duties back as are right fit, Obey you, love you, and most honour you. Why have my sisters husbands if they say They love you all? Haply, when I shall wed, That lord whose hand must take my plight shall carry Half my love with him, half my care and duty: Sure I shall never marry like my sisters, To love my father all.
klear	::	LEAR	::	31	::	 But goes thy heart with this?
klear	::	CORDELIA	::	32	::	 Ay, my good lord.
klear	::	LEAR	::	33	::	 So young, and so untender?
klear	::	CORDELIA	::	34	::	 So young, my lord, and true.
klear	::	LEAR	::	35	::	 Let it be so, thy truth then be thy dower: For, by the sacred radiance of the sun, The mysteries of Hecate and the night; By all the operation of the orbs, From whom we do exist and cease to be; Here I disclaim all my paternal care, Propinquity and property of blood, And as a stranger to my heart and me Hold thee from this for ever. The barbarous Scythian, Or he that makes his generation messes To gorge his appetite, shall to my bosom Be as well neighbour’d, pitied, and reliev’d, As thou my sometime daughter.
klear	::	KENT	::	36	::	 Good my liege,—
klear	::	LEAR	::	37	::	 Peace, Kent! Come not between the dragon and his wrath. I lov’d her most, and thought to set my rest On her kind nursery.  Hence and avoid my sight! So be my grave my peace, as here I give Her father’s heart from her! Call France. Who stirs? Call Burgundy! Cornwall and Albany, With my two daughters’ dowers digest this third: Let pride, which she calls plainness, marry her. I do invest you jointly with my power, Pre-eminence, and all the large effects That troop with majesty. Ourself, by monthly course, With reservation of an hundred knights, By you to be sustain’d, shall our abode Make with you by due turn. Only we shall retain The name, and all the addition to a king; the sway, Revenue, execution of the rest, Beloved sons, be yours; which to confirm, This coronet part between you. 
klear	::	KENT	::	38	::	 Royal Lear, Whom I have ever honour’d as my king, Lov’d as my father, as my master follow’d, As my great patron thought on in my prayers.—
klear	::	LEAR	::	39	::	 The bow is bent and drawn; make from the shaft.
klear	::	KENT	::	40	::	 Let it fall rather, though the fork invade The region of my heart: be Kent unmannerly When Lear is mad. What wouldst thou do, old man? Think’st thou that duty shall have dread to speak, When power to flattery bows? To plainness honour’s bound When majesty falls to folly. Reverse thy state; And in thy best consideration check This hideous rashness: answer my life my judgement, Thy youngest daughter does not love thee least; Nor are those empty-hearted, whose low sounds Reverb no hollowness.
klear	::	LEAR	::	41	::	 Kent, on thy life, no more.
klear	::	KENT	::	42	::	 My life I never held but as a pawn To wage against thine enemies; ne’er fear to lose it, Thy safety being the motive.
klear	::	LEAR	::	43	::	 Out of my sight!
klear	::	KENT	::	44	::	 See better, Lear; and let me still remain The true blank of thine eye.
klear	::	LEAR	::	45	::	 Now, by Apollo,—
klear	::	KENT	::	46	::	 Now by Apollo, King, Thou swear’st thy gods in vain.
klear	::	LEAR	::	47	::	 O vassal! Miscreant!
klear	::	KENT	::	48	::	 Kill thy physician, and the fee bestow Upon the foul disease. Revoke thy gift, Or, whilst I can vent clamour from my throat, I’ll tell thee thou dost evil.
klear	::	LEAR	::	49	::	 Hear me, recreant! on thine allegiance, hear me! Since thou hast sought to make us break our vows, Which we durst never yet, and with strain’d pride To come betwixt our sentences and our power, Which nor our nature, nor our place can bear, Our potency made good, take thy reward. Five days we do allot thee for provision, To shield thee from disasters of the world; And on the sixth to turn thy hated back Upon our kingdom: if, on the next day following, Thy banish’d trunk be found in our dominions, The moment is thy death. Away! By Jupiter, This shall not be revok’d.
klear	::	KENT	::	50	::	 Fare thee well, King: sith thus thou wilt appear, Freedom lives hence, and banishment is here.  The gods to their dear shelter take thee, maid, That justly think’st and hast most rightly said!  And your large speeches may your deeds approve, That good effects may spring from words of love. Thus Kent, O princes, bids you all adieu; He’ll shape his old course in a country new.
klear	::	CORDELIA	::	51	::	 Here’s France and Burgundy, my noble lord.
klear	::	LEAR	::	52	::	 My Lord of Burgundy, We first address toward you, who with this king Hath rivall’d for our daughter: what in the least Will you require in present dower with her, Or cease your quest of love?
klear	::	BURGUNDY	::	53	::	 Most royal majesty, I crave no more than hath your highness offer’d, Nor will you tender less?
klear	::	LEAR	::	54	::	 Right noble Burgundy, When she was dear to us, we did hold her so; But now her price is fall’n. Sir, there she stands: If aught within that little-seeming substance, Or all of it, with our displeasure piec’d, And nothing more, may fitly like your grace, She’s there, and she is yours.
klear	::	BURGUNDY	::	55	::	 I know no answer.
klear	::	LEAR	::	56	::	 Will you, with those infirmities she owes, Unfriended, new adopted to our hate, Dower’d with our curse, and stranger’d with our oath, Take her or leave her?
klear	::	BURGUNDY	::	57	::	 Pardon me, royal sir; Election makes not up in such conditions.
klear	::	LEAR	::	58	::	 Then leave her, sir; for, by the power that made me, I tell you all her wealth.  For you, great king, I would not from your love make such a stray To match you where I hate; therefore beseech you T’avert your liking a more worthier way Than on a wretch whom nature is asham’d Almost t’acknowledge hers.
klear	::	FRANCE	::	59	::	 This is most strange, That she, who even but now was your best object, The argument of your praise, balm of your age, The best, the dearest, should in this trice of time Commit a thing so monstrous, to dismantle So many folds of favour. Sure her offence Must be of such unnatural degree That monsters it, or your fore-vouch’d affection Fall into taint; which to believe of her Must be a faith that reason without miracle Should never plant in me.
klear	::	CORDELIA	::	60	::	 I yet beseech your majesty, If for I want that glib and oily art To speak and purpose not; since what I well intend, I’ll do’t before I speak,—that you make known It is no vicious blot, murder, or foulness, No unchaste action or dishonour’d step, That hath depriv’d me of your grace and favour; But even for want of that for which I am richer, A still soliciting eye, and such a tongue As I am glad I have not, though not to have it Hath lost me in your liking.
klear	::	LEAR	::	61	::	 Better thou hadst Not been born than not to have pleas’d me better.
klear	::	FRANCE	::	62	::	 Is it but this?—a tardiness in nature Which often leaves the history unspoke That it intends to do? My lord of Burgundy, What say you to the lady? Love’s not love When it is mingled with regards that stands Aloof from the entire point. Will you have her? She is herself a dowry.
klear	::	BURGUNDY	::	63	::	 Royal King, Give but that portion which yourself propos’d, And here I take Cordelia by the hand, Duchess of Burgundy.
klear	::	LEAR	::	64	::	 Nothing: I have sworn; I am firm.
klear	::	BURGUNDY	::	65	::	 I am sorry, then, you have so lost a father That you must lose a husband.
klear	::	CORDELIA	::	66	::	 Peace be with Burgundy! Since that respects of fortunes are his love, I shall not be his wife.
klear	::	FRANCE	::	67	::	 Fairest Cordelia, that art most rich, being poor; Most choice forsaken; and most lov’d, despis’d! Thee and thy virtues here I seize upon: Be it lawful, I take up what’s cast away. Gods, gods! ’Tis strange that from their cold’st neglect My love should kindle to inflam’d respect. Thy dowerless daughter, King, thrown to my chance, Is queen of us, of ours, and our fair France: Not all the dukes of waterish Burgundy Can buy this unpriz’d precious maid of me. Bid them farewell, Cordelia, though unkind: Thou losest here, a better where to find.
klear	::	LEAR	::	68	::	 Thou hast her, France: let her be thine; for we Have no such daughter, nor shall ever see That face of hers again. Therefore be gone Without our grace, our love, our benison. Come, noble Burgundy.
klear	::	FRANCE	::	69	::	 Bid farewell to your sisters.
klear	::	CORDELIA	::	70	::	 The jewels of our father, with wash’d eyes Cordelia leaves you: I know you what you are; And like a sister am most loath to call Your faults as they are nam’d. Love well our father: To your professed bosoms I commit him: But yet, alas, stood I within his grace, I would prefer him to a better place. So farewell to you both.
klear	::	REGAN	::	71	::	 Prescribe not us our duties.
klear	::	GONERIL	::	72	::	 Let your study Be to content your lord, who hath receiv’d you At fortune’s alms. You have obedience scanted, And well are worth the want that you have wanted.
klear	::	CORDELIA	::	73	::	 Time shall unfold what plighted cunning hides: Who covers faults, at last shame derides. Well may you prosper.
klear	::	FRANCE	::	74	::	 Come, my fair Cordelia.
klear	::	GONERIL	::	75	::	 Sister, it is not little I have to say of what most nearly appertains to us both. I think our father will hence tonight.
klear	::	REGAN	::	76	::	 That’s most certain, and with you; next month with us.
klear	::	GONERIL	::	77	::	 You see how full of changes his age is; the observation we have made of it hath not been little: he always loved our sister most; and with what poor judgement he hath now cast her off appears too grossly.
klear	::	REGAN	::	78	::	 ’Tis the infirmity of his age: yet he hath ever but slenderly known himself.
klear	::	GONERIL	::	79	::	 The best and soundest of his time hath been but rash; then must we look from his age to receive not alone the imperfections of long-engrafted condition, but therewithal the unruly waywardness that infirm and choleric years bring with them.
klear	::	REGAN	::	80	::	 Such unconstant starts are we like to have from him as this of Kent’s banishment.
klear	::	GONERIL	::	81	::	 There is further compliment of leave-taking between France and him. Pray you let us hit together: if our father carry authority with such disposition as he bears, this last surrender of his will but offend us.
klear	::	REGAN	::	82	::	 We shall further think of it.
klear	::	GONERIL	::	83	::	 We must do something, and i’ th’ heat.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	84	::	 Thou, Nature, art my goddess; to thy law My services are bound. Wherefore should I Stand in the plague of custom, and permit The curiosity of nations to deprive me? For that I am some twelve or fourteen moonshines Lag of a brother? Why bastard? Wherefore base? When my dimensions are as well compact, My mind as generous, and my shape as true As honest madam’s issue? Why brand they us With base? With baseness? bastardy? Base, base? Who, in the lusty stealth of nature, take More composition and fierce quality Than doth within a dull stale tired bed Go to the creating a whole tribe of fops Got ’tween asleep and wake? Well then, Legitimate Edgar, I must have your land: Our father’s love is to the bastard Edmund As to the legitimate: fine word: legitimate! Well, my legitimate, if this letter speed, And my invention thrive, Edmund the base Shall top the legitimate. I grow, I prosper. Now, gods, stand up for bastards!
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	85	::	 Kent banish’d thus! and France in choler parted! And the King gone tonight! Prescrib’d his pow’r! Confin’d to exhibition! All this done Upon the gad!—Edmund, how now! What news?
klear	::	EDMUND	::	86	::	 So please your lordship, none.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	87	::	 Why so earnestly seek you to put up that letter?
klear	::	EDMUND	::	88	::	 I know no news, my lord.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	89	::	 What paper were you reading?
klear	::	EDMUND	::	90	::	 Nothing, my lord.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	91	::	 No? What needed then that terrible dispatch of it into your pocket? The quality of nothing hath not such need to hide itself. Let’s see. Come, if it be nothing, I shall not need spectacles.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	92	::	 I beseech you, sir, pardon me. It is a letter from my brother that I have not all o’er-read; and for so much as I have perus’d, I find it not fit for your o’er-looking.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	93	::	 Give me the letter, sir.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	94	::	 I shall offend, either to detain or give it. The contents, as in part I understand them, are to blame.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	95	::	 Let’s see, let’s see!
klear	::	EDMUND	::	96	::	 I hope, for my brother’s justification, he wrote this but as an essay, or taste of my virtue.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	97	::	  ‘This policy and reverence of age makes the world bitter to the best of our times; keeps our fortunes from us till our oldness cannot relish them. I begin to find an idle and fond bondage in the oppression of aged tyranny; who sways not as it hath power, but as it is suffered. Come to me, that of this I may speak more. If our father would sleep till I waked him, you should enjoy half his revenue for ever, and live the beloved of your brother EDGAR.’ Hum! Conspiracy? ‘Sleep till I wake him, you should enjoy half his revenue.’—My son Edgar! Had he a hand to write this? A heart and brain to breed it in? When came this to you? Who brought it?
klear	::	EDMUND	::	98	::	 It was not brought me, my lord, there’s the cunning of it. I found it thrown in at the casement of my closet.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	99	::	 You know the character to be your brother’s?
klear	::	EDMUND	::	100	::	 If the matter were good, my lord, I durst swear it were his; but in respect of that, I would fain think it were not.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	101	::	 It is his.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	102	::	 It is his hand, my lord; but I hope his heart is not in the contents.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	103	::	 Has he never before sounded you in this business?
klear	::	EDMUND	::	104	::	 Never, my lord. But I have heard him oft maintain it to be fit that, sons at perfect age, and fathers declined, the father should be as ward to the son, and the son manage his revenue.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	105	::	 O villain, villain! His very opinion in the letter! Abhorred villain! Unnatural, detested, brutish villain! worse than brutish! Go, sirrah, seek him; I’ll apprehend him. Abominable villain, Where is he?
klear	::	EDMUND	::	106	::	 I do not well know, my lord. If it shall please you to suspend your indignation against my brother till you can derive from him better testimony of his intent, you should run a certain course; where, if you violently proceed against him, mistaking his purpose, it would make a great gap in your own honour, and shake in pieces the heart of his obedience. I dare pawn down my life for him, that he hath writ this to feel my affection to your honour, and to no other pretence of danger.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	107	::	 Think you so?
klear	::	EDMUND	::	108	::	 If your honour judge it meet, I will place you where you shall hear us confer of this, and by an auricular assurance have your satisfaction, and that without any further delay than this very evening.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	109	::	 He cannot be such a monster.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	110	::	 Nor is not, sure.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	111	::	 To his father, that so tenderly and entirely loves him. Heaven and earth! Edmund, seek him out; wind me into him, I pray you: frame the business after your own wisdom. I would unstate myself to be in a due resolution.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	112	::	 I will seek him, sir, presently; convey the business as I shall find means, and acquaint you withal.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	113	::	 These late eclipses in the sun and moon portend no good to us: though the wisdom of Nature can reason it thus and thus, yet nature finds itself scourged by the sequent effects. Love cools, friendship falls off, brothers divide: in cities, mutinies; in countries, discord; in palaces, treason; and the bond cracked ’twixt son and father. This villain of mine comes under the prediction; there’s son against father: the King falls from bias of nature; there’s father against child. We have seen the best of our time. Machinations, hollowness, treachery, and all ruinous disorders follow us disquietly to our graves. Find out this villain, Edmund; it shall lose thee nothing; do it carefully.—And the noble and true-hearted Kent banished! his offence, honesty! ’Tis strange.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	114	::	 This is the excellent foppery of the world, that, when we are sick in fortune, often the surfeits of our own behaviour, we make guilty of our disasters the sun, the moon, and the stars; as if we were villains on necessity; fools by heavenly compulsion; knaves, thieves, and treachers by spherical predominance; drunkards, liars, and adulterers by an enforced obedience of planetary influence; and all that we are evil in, by a divine thrusting on. An admirable evasion of whoremaster man, to lay his goatish disposition to the charge of a star. My father compounded with my mother under the dragon’s tail, and my nativity was under Ursa Major, so that it follows I am rough and lecherous. Fut! I should have been that I am, had the maidenliest star in the firmament twinkled on my bastardizing.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	115	::	 How now, brother Edmund, what serious contemplation are you in?
klear	::	EDMUND	::	116	::	 I am thinking, brother, of a prediction I read this other day, what should follow these eclipses.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	117	::	 Do you busy yourself with that?
klear	::	EDMUND	::	118	::	 I promise you, the effects he writes of succeed unhappily: as of unnaturalness between the child and the parent; death, dearth, dissolutions of ancient amities; divisions in state, menaces and maledictions against King and nobles; needless diffidences, banishment of friends, dissipation of cohorts, nuptial breaches, and I know not what.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	119	::	 How long have you been a sectary astronomical?
klear	::	EDMUND	::	120	::	 Come, come! when saw you my father last?
klear	::	EDGAR	::	121	::	 The night gone by.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	122	::	 Spake you with him?
klear	::	EDGAR	::	123	::	 Ay, two hours together.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	124	::	 Parted you in good terms? Found you no displeasure in him, by word nor countenance?
klear	::	EDGAR	::	125	::	 None at all.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	126	::	 Bethink yourself wherein you may have offended him: and at my entreaty forbear his presence until some little time hath qualified the heat of his displeasure; which at this instant so rageth in him that with the mischief of your person it would scarcely allay.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	127	::	 Some villain hath done me wrong.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	128	::	 That’s my fear. I pray you have a continent forbearance till the speed of his rage goes slower; and, as I say, retire with me to my lodging, from whence I will fitly bring you to hear my lord speak: pray ye, go; there’s my key. If you do stir abroad, go armed.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	129	::	 Armed, brother?
klear	::	EDMUND	::	130	::	 Brother, I advise you to the best; I am no honest man if there be any good meaning toward you: I have told you what I have seen and heard. But faintly; nothing like the image and horror of it: pray you, away!
klear	::	EDGAR	::	131	::	 Shall I hear from you anon?
klear	::	EDMUND	::	132	::	 I do serve you in this business.
klear	::	GONERIL	::	133	::	 Did my father strike my gentleman for chiding of his fool?
klear	::	OSWALD	::	134	::	 Ay, madam.
klear	::	GONERIL	::	135	::	 By day and night, he wrongs me; every hour He flashes into one gross crime or other, That sets us all at odds; I’ll not endure it: His knights grow riotous, and himself upbraids us On every trifle. When he returns from hunting, I will not speak with him; say I am sick. If you come slack of former services, You shall do well; the fault of it I’ll answer.
klear	::	OSWALD	::	136	::	 He’s coming, madam; I hear him.
klear	::	GONERIL	::	137	::	 Put on what weary negligence you please, You and your fellows; I’d have it come to question: If he distaste it, let him to our sister, Whose mind and mine, I know, in that are one, Not to be overruled. Idle old man, That still would manage those authorities That he hath given away! Now, by my life, Old fools are babes again; and must be us’d With checks as flatteries, when they are seen abus’d. Remember what I have said.
klear	::	OSWALD	::	138	::	 Very well, madam.
klear	::	GONERIL	::	139	::	 And let his knights have colder looks among you; What grows of it, no matter; advise your fellows so; I would breed from hence occasions, and I shall, That I may speak. I’ll write straight to my sister To hold my very course. Prepare for dinner.
klear	::	KENT	::	140	::	 If but as well I other accents borrow, That can my speech defuse, my good intent May carry through itself to that full issue For which I rais’d my likeness. Now, banish’d Kent, If thou canst serve where thou dost stand condemn’d, So may it come, thy master, whom thou lov’st, Shall find thee full of labours.
klear	::	LEAR	::	141	::	 Let me not stay a jot for dinner; go get it ready.
klear	::	KENT	::	142	::	 A man, sir.
klear	::	LEAR	::	143	::	 What dost thou profess? What wouldst thou with us?
klear	::	KENT	::	144	::	 I do profess to be no less than I seem; to serve him truly that will put me in trust; to love him that is honest; to converse with him that is wise and says little; to fear judgement; to fight when I cannot choose; and to eat no fish.
klear	::	LEAR	::	145	::	 What art thou?
klear	::	KENT	::	146	::	 A very honest-hearted fellow, and as poor as the King.
klear	::	LEAR	::	147	::	 If thou be’st as poor for a subject as he’s for a king, thou art poor enough. What wouldst thou?
klear	::	KENT	::	148	::	 Service.
klear	::	LEAR	::	149	::	 Who wouldst thou serve?
klear	::	KENT	::	150	::	 You.
klear	::	LEAR	::	151	::	 Dost thou know me, fellow?
klear	::	KENT	::	152	::	 No, sir; but you have that in your countenance which I would fain call master.
klear	::	LEAR	::	153	::	 What’s that?
klear	::	KENT	::	154	::	 Authority.
klear	::	LEAR	::	155	::	 What services canst thou do?
klear	::	KENT	::	156	::	 I can keep honest counsel, ride, run, mar a curious tale in telling it and deliver a plain message bluntly. That which ordinary men are fit for, I am qualified in, and the best of me is diligence.
klear	::	LEAR	::	157	::	 How old art thou?
klear	::	KENT	::	158	::	 Not so young, sir, to love a woman for singing; nor so old to dote on her for anything: I have years on my back forty-eight.
klear	::	LEAR	::	159	::	 Follow me; thou shalt serve me. If I like thee no worse after dinner, I will not part from thee yet. Dinner, ho, dinner! Where’s my knave? my fool? Go you and call my fool hither.
klear	::	OSWALD	::	160	::	 So please you,—
klear	::	LEAR	::	161	::	 What says the fellow there? Call the clotpoll back.
klear	::	KNIGHT	::	162	::	 He says, my lord, your daughter is not well.
klear	::	LEAR	::	163	::	 Why came not the slave back to me when I called him?
klear	::	KNIGHT	::	164	::	 Sir, he answered me in the roundest manner, he would not.
klear	::	LEAR	::	165	::	 He would not?
klear	::	KNIGHT	::	166	::	 My lord, I know not what the matter is; but to my judgement your highness is not entertained with that ceremonious affection as you were wont; there’s a great abatement of kindness appears as well in the general dependants as in the Duke himself also, and your daughter.
klear	::	LEAR	::	167	::	 Ha! say’st thou so?
klear	::	KNIGHT	::	168	::	 I beseech you pardon me, my lord, if I be mistaken; for my duty cannot be silent when I think your highness wronged.
klear	::	LEAR	::	169	::	 Thou but rememberest me of mine own conception: I have perceived a most faint neglect of late; which I have rather blamed as mine own jealous curiosity than as a very pretence and purpose of unkindness: I will look further into’t. But where’s my fool? I have not seen him this two days.
klear	::	KNIGHT	::	170	::	 Since my young lady’s going into France, sir, the fool hath much pined away.
klear	::	LEAR	::	171	::	 No more of that; I have noted it well. Go you and tell my daughter I would speak with her.
klear	::	OSWALD	::	172	::	 My lady’s father.
klear	::	LEAR	::	173	::	 My lady’s father! my lord’s knave: you whoreson dog! you slave! you cur!
klear	::	OSWALD	::	174	::	 I am none of these, my lord; I beseech your pardon.
klear	::	LEAR	::	175	::	 Do you bandy looks with me, you rascal?
klear	::	OSWALD	::	176	::	 I’ll not be struck, my lord.
klear	::	KENT	::	177	::	 Nor tripp’d neither, you base football player.
klear	::	LEAR	::	178	::	 I thank thee, fellow. Thou serv’st me, and I’ll love thee.
klear	::	KENT	::	179	::	 Come, sir, arise, away! I’ll teach you differences: away, away! If you will measure your lubber’s length again, tarry; but away! go to; have you wisdom? So.
klear	::	LEAR	::	180	::	 Now, my friendly knave, I thank thee: there’s earnest of thy service.
klear	::	FOOL	::	181	::	 Let me hire him too; here’s my coxcomb.
klear	::	LEAR	::	182	::	 How now, my pretty knave, how dost thou?
klear	::	FOOL	::	183	::	 Sirrah, you were best take my coxcomb.
klear	::	KENT	::	184	::	 Why, fool?
klear	::	FOOL	::	185	::	 Why, for taking one’s part that’s out of favour. Nay, an thou canst not smile as the wind sits, thou’lt catch cold shortly: there, take my coxcomb: why, this fellow has banish’d two on’s daughters, and did the third a blessing against his will; if thou follow him, thou must needs wear my coxcomb. How now, nuncle! Would I had two coxcombs and two daughters!
klear	::	LEAR	::	186	::	 Why, my boy?
klear	::	FOOL	::	187	::	 If I gave them all my living, I’d keep my coxcombs myself. There’s mine; beg another of thy daughters.
klear	::	LEAR	::	188	::	 Take heed, sirrah, the whip.
klear	::	FOOL	::	189	::	 Truth’s a dog must to kennel; he must be whipped out, when the Lady Brach may stand by the fire and stink.
klear	::	LEAR	::	190	::	 A pestilent gall to me!
klear	::	FOOL	::	191	::	 Sirrah, I’ll teach thee a speech.
klear	::	LEAR	::	192	::	 Do.
klear	::	FOOL	::	193	::	 Mark it, nuncle: Have more than thou showest, Speak less than thou knowest, Lend less than thou owest, Ride more than thou goest, Learn more than thou trowest, Set less than thou throwest; Leave thy drink and thy whore, And keep in-a-door, And thou shalt have more Than two tens to a score.
klear	::	KENT	::	194	::	 This is nothing, fool.
klear	::	FOOL	::	195	::	 Then ’tis like the breath of an unfee’d lawyer, you gave me nothing for’t. Can you make no use of nothing, nuncle?
klear	::	LEAR	::	196	::	 Why, no, boy; nothing can be made out of nothing.
klear	::	FOOL	::	197	::	  Prythee tell him, so much the rent of his land comes to: he will not believe a fool.
klear	::	LEAR	::	198	::	 A bitter fool.
klear	::	FOOL	::	199	::	 Dost thou know the difference, my boy, between a bitter fool and a sweet one?
klear	::	LEAR	::	200	::	 No, lad; teach me.
klear	::	FOOL	::	201	::	 That lord that counsell’d thee To give away thy land, Come place him here by me, Do thou for him stand. The sweet and bitter fool Will presently appear; The one in motley here, The other found out there.
klear	::	LEAR	::	202	::	 Dost thou call me fool, boy?
klear	::	FOOL	::	203	::	 All thy other titles thou hast given away; that thou wast born with.
klear	::	KENT	::	204	::	 This is not altogether fool, my lord.
klear	::	FOOL	::	205	::	 No, faith; lords and great men will not let me; if I had a monopoly out, they would have part on’t and ladies too, they will not let me have all the fool to myself; they’ll be snatching. Nuncle, give me an egg, and I’ll give thee two crowns.
klear	::	LEAR	::	206	::	 What two crowns shall they be?
klear	::	FOOL	::	207	::	 Why, after I have cut the egg i’ the middle and eat up the meat, the two crowns of the egg. When thou clovest thy crown i’ the middle and gav’st away both parts, thou bor’st thine ass on thy back o’er the dirt: thou hadst little wit in thy bald crown when thou gav’st thy golden one away. If I speak like myself in this, let him be whipped that first finds it so.  Fools had ne’er less grace in a year; For wise men are grown foppish, And know not how their wits to wear, Their manners are so apish.
klear	::	LEAR	::	208	::	 When were you wont to be so full of songs, sirrah?
klear	::	FOOL	::	209	::	 I have used it, nuncle, e’er since thou mad’st thy daughters thy mothers; for when thou gav’st them the rod, and put’st down thine own breeches,  Then they for sudden joy did weep, And I for sorrow sung, That such a king should play bo-peep, And go the fools among. Prythee, nuncle, keep a schoolmaster that can teach thy fool to lie; I would fain learn to lie.
klear	::	LEAR	::	210	::	 An you lie, sirrah, we’ll have you whipped.
klear	::	FOOL	::	211	::	 I marvel what kin thou and thy daughters are: they’ll have me whipped for speaking true; thou’lt have me whipped for lying; and sometimes I am whipped for holding my peace. I had rather be any kind o’thing than a fool: and yet I would not be thee, nuncle: thou hast pared thy wit o’both sides, and left nothing i’ the middle: here comes one o’ the parings.
klear	::	LEAR	::	212	::	 How now, daughter? What makes that frontlet on? Methinks you are too much of late i’ the frown.
klear	::	FOOL	::	213	::	 Thou wast a pretty fellow when thou hadst no need to care for her frowning. Now thou art an O without a figure: I am better than thou art now. I am a fool, thou art nothing.  Yes, forsooth, I will hold my tongue. So your face bids me, though you say nothing. Mum, mum, He that keeps nor crust nor crum, Weary of all, shall want some. [_Pointing to Lear_.] That’s a shealed peascod.
klear	::	GONERIL	::	214	::	 Not only, sir, this your all-licens’d fool, But other of your insolent retinue Do hourly carp and quarrel; breaking forth In rank and not-to-be-endured riots. Sir, I had thought, by making this well known unto you, To have found a safe redress; but now grow fearful, By what yourself too late have spoke and done, That you protect this course, and put it on By your allowance; which if you should, the fault Would not scape censure, nor the redresses sleep, Which, in the tender of a wholesome weal, Might in their working do you that offence Which else were shame, that then necessity Will call discreet proceeding.
klear	::	FOOL	::	215	::	 For you know, nuncle, The hedge-sparrow fed the cuckoo so long That it’s had it head bit off by it young. So out went the candle, and we were left darkling.
klear	::	LEAR	::	216	::	 Are you our daughter?
klear	::	GONERIL	::	217	::	 Come, sir, I would you would make use of that good wisdom, Whereof I know you are fraught; and put away These dispositions, which of late transform you From what you rightly are.
klear	::	FOOL	::	218	::	 May not an ass know when the cart draws the horse? Whoop, Jug! I love thee!
klear	::	LEAR	::	219	::	 Doth any here know me? This is not Lear; Doth Lear walk thus? speak thus? Where are his eyes? Either his notion weakens, his discernings Are lethargied. Ha! waking? ’Tis not so! Who is it that can tell me who I am?
klear	::	FOOL	::	220	::	 Lear’s shadow.
klear	::	LEAR	::	221	::	 I would learn that; for by the marks of sovereignty, knowledge and reason, I should be false persuaded I had daughters.
klear	::	FOOL	::	222	::	 Which they will make an obedient father.
klear	::	LEAR	::	223	::	 Your name, fair gentlewoman?
klear	::	GONERIL	::	224	::	 This admiration, sir, is much o’ the favour Of other your new pranks. I do beseech you To understand my purposes aright: As you are old and reverend, you should be wise. Here do you keep a hundred knights and squires; Men so disorder’d, so debosh’d and bold That this our court, infected with their manners, Shows like a riotous inn. Epicurism and lust Makes it more like a tavern or a brothel Than a grac’d palace. The shame itself doth speak For instant remedy. Be, then, desir’d By her that else will take the thing she begs A little to disquantity your train; And the remainder that shall still depend, To be such men as may besort your age, Which know themselves, and you.
klear	::	LEAR	::	225	::	 Darkness and devils! Saddle my horses; call my train together. Degenerate bastard! I’ll not trouble thee: Yet have I left a daughter.
klear	::	GONERIL	::	226	::	 You strike my people; and your disorder’d rabble Make servants of their betters.
klear	::	LEAR	::	227	::	 Woe that too late repents!—  O, sir, are you come? Is it your will? Speak, sir.—Prepare my horses. Ingratitude, thou marble-hearted fiend, More hideous when thou show’st thee in a child Than the sea-monster!
klear	::	ALBANY	::	228	::	 Pray, sir, be patient.
klear	::	LEAR	::	229	::	  Detested kite, thou liest. My train are men of choice and rarest parts, That all particulars of duty know; And in the most exact regard support The worships of their name. O most small fault, How ugly didst thou in Cordelia show! Which, like an engine, wrench’d my frame of nature From the fix’d place; drew from my heart all love, And added to the gall. O Lear, Lear, Lear!  Beat at this gate that let thy folly in And thy dear judgement out! Go, go, my people.
klear	::	ALBANY	::	230	::	 My lord, I am guiltless, as I am ignorant Of what hath moved you.
klear	::	LEAR	::	231	::	 It may be so, my lord. Hear, nature, hear; dear goddess, hear Suspend thy purpose, if thou didst intend To make this creature fruitful! Into her womb convey sterility! Dry up in her the organs of increase; And from her derogate body never spring A babe to honour her! If she must teem, Create her child of spleen, that it may live And be a thwart disnatur’d torment to her! Let it stamp wrinkles in her brow of youth; With cadent tears fret channels in her cheeks; Turn all her mother’s pains and benefits To laughter and contempt; that she may feel How sharper than a serpent’s tooth it is To have a thankless child! Away, away!
klear	::	ALBANY	::	232	::	 Now, gods that we adore, whereof comes this?
klear	::	GONERIL	::	233	::	 Never afflict yourself to know more of it; But let his disposition have that scope That dotage gives it.
klear	::	LEAR	::	234	::	 What, fifty of my followers at a clap? Within a fortnight?
klear	::	ALBANY	::	235	::	 What’s the matter, sir?
klear	::	LEAR	::	236	::	 I’ll tell thee.  Life and death! I am asham’d That thou hast power to shake my manhood thus; That these hot tears, which break from me perforce, Should make thee worth them. Blasts and fogs upon thee! Th’untented woundings of a father’s curse Pierce every sense about thee! Old fond eyes, Beweep this cause again, I’ll pluck ye out, And cast you with the waters that you lose To temper clay. Ha! Let it be so. I have another daughter, Who, I am sure, is kind and comfortable: When she shall hear this of thee, with her nails She’ll flay thy wolvish visage. Thou shalt find That I’ll resume the shape which thou dost think I have cast off for ever.
klear	::	GONERIL	::	237	::	 Do you mark that?
klear	::	ALBANY	::	238	::	 I cannot be so partial, Goneril, To the great love I bear you,—
klear	::	GONERIL	::	239	::	 Pray you, content. What, Oswald, ho!  You, sir, more knave than fool, after your master.
klear	::	FOOL	::	240	::	 Nuncle Lear, nuncle Lear, tarry and take the fool with thee. A fox when one has caught her, And such a daughter, Should sure to the slaughter, If my cap would buy a halter; So the fool follows after.
klear	::	GONERIL	::	241	::	 This man hath had good counsel.—A hundred knights! ’Tis politic and safe to let him keep At point a hundred knights: yes, that on every dream, Each buzz, each fancy, each complaint, dislike, He may enguard his dotage with their powers, And hold our lives in mercy. Oswald, I say!
klear	::	ALBANY	::	242	::	 Well, you may fear too far.
klear	::	GONERIL	::	243	::	 Safer than trust too far: Let me still take away the harms I fear, Not fear still to be taken: I know his heart. What he hath utter’d I have writ my sister: If she sustain him and his hundred knights, When I have show’d th’unfitness,—
klear	::	OSWALD	::	244	::	 Ay, madam.
klear	::	GONERIL	::	245	::	 Take you some company, and away to horse: Inform her full of my particular fear; And thereto add such reasons of your own As may compact it more. Get you gone; And hasten your return.
klear	::	ALBANY	::	246	::	 How far your eyes may pierce I cannot tell: Striving to better, oft we mar what’s well.
klear	::	GONERIL	::	247	::	 Nay then,—
klear	::	ALBANY	::	248	::	 Well, well; the event.
klear	::	LEAR	::	249	::	 Go you before to Gloucester with these letters: acquaint my daughter no further with anything you know than comes from her demand out of the letter. If your diligence be not speedy, I shall be there afore you.
klear	::	KENT	::	250	::	 I will not sleep, my lord, till I have delivered your letter.
klear	::	FOOL	::	251	::	 If a man’s brains were in’s heels, were’t not in danger of kibes?
klear	::	LEAR	::	252	::	 Ay, boy.
klear	::	FOOL	::	253	::	 Then I prythee be merry; thy wit shall not go slipshod.
klear	::	LEAR	::	254	::	 Ha, ha, ha!
klear	::	FOOL	::	255	::	 Shalt see thy other daughter will use thee kindly, for though she’s as like this as a crab’s like an apple, yet I can tell what I can tell.
klear	::	LEAR	::	256	::	 What canst tell, boy?
klear	::	FOOL	::	257	::	 She’ll taste as like this as a crab does to a crab. Thou canst tell why one’s nose stands i’the middle on’s face?
klear	::	LEAR	::	258	::	 No.
klear	::	FOOL	::	259	::	 Why, to keep one’s eyes of either side’s nose, that what a man cannot smell out, he may spy into.
klear	::	LEAR	::	260	::	 I did her wrong.
klear	::	FOOL	::	261	::	 Canst tell how an oyster makes his shell?
klear	::	LEAR	::	262	::	 No.
klear	::	FOOL	::	263	::	 Nor I neither; but I can tell why a snail has a house.
klear	::	LEAR	::	264	::	 Why?
klear	::	FOOL	::	265	::	 Why, to put’s head in; not to give it away to his daughters, and leave his horns without a case.
klear	::	LEAR	::	266	::	 I will forget my nature. So kind a father! Be my horses ready?
klear	::	FOOL	::	267	::	 Thy asses are gone about ’em. The reason why the seven stars are no more than seven is a pretty reason.
klear	::	LEAR	::	268	::	 Because they are not eight?
klear	::	FOOL	::	269	::	 Yes indeed: thou wouldst make a good fool.
klear	::	LEAR	::	270	::	 To tak’t again perforce!—Monster ingratitude!
klear	::	FOOL	::	271	::	 If thou wert my fool, nuncle, I’ld have thee beaten for being old before thy time.
klear	::	LEAR	::	272	::	 How’s that?
klear	::	FOOL	::	273	::	 Thou shouldst not have been old till thou hadst been wise.
klear	::	LEAR	::	274	::	 O, let me not be mad, not mad, sweet heaven! Keep me in temper; I would not be mad!
klear	::	GENTLEMAN	::	275	::	 Ready, my lord.
klear	::	LEAR	::	276	::	 Come, boy.
klear	::	FOOL	::	277	::	 She that’s a maid now, and laughs at my departure, Shall not be a maid long, unless things be cut shorter.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	278	::	 Save thee, Curan.
klear	::	CURAN	::	279	::	 And you, sir. I have been with your father, and given him notice that the Duke of Cornwall and Regan his Duchess will be here with him this night.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	280	::	 How comes that?
klear	::	CURAN	::	281	::	 Nay, I know not. You have heard of the news abroad; I mean the whispered ones, for they are yet but ear-kissing arguments?
klear	::	EDMUND	::	282	::	 Not I: pray you, what are they?
klear	::	CURAN	::	283	::	 Have you heard of no likely wars toward, ’twixt the two dukes of Cornwall and Albany?
klear	::	EDMUND	::	284	::	 Not a word.
klear	::	CURAN	::	285	::	 You may do, then, in time. Fare you well, sir.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	286	::	 The Duke be here tonight? The better! best! This weaves itself perforce into my business. My father hath set guard to take my brother; And I have one thing, of a queasy question, Which I must act. Briefness and fortune work! Brother, a word, descend, brother, I say!
klear	::	EDGAR	::	287	::	 I am sure on’t, not a word.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	288	::	 I hear my father coming:—pardon me; In cunning I must draw my sword upon you: Draw: seem to defend yourself: now quit you well. Yield: come before my father. Light, ho, here! Fly, brother. Torches, torches!—So farewell.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	289	::	 Now, Edmund, where’s the villain?
klear	::	EDMUND	::	290	::	 Here stood he in the dark, his sharp sword out, Mumbling of wicked charms, conjuring the moon To stand auspicious mistress.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	291	::	 But where is he?
klear	::	EDMUND	::	292	::	 Look, sir, I bleed.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	293	::	 Where is the villain, Edmund?
klear	::	EDMUND	::	294	::	 Fled this way, sir. When by no means he could,—
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	295	::	 Pursue him, ho! Go after.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	296	::	 Persuade me to the murder of your lordship; But that I told him the revenging gods ’Gainst parricides did all their thunders bend; Spoke with how manifold and strong a bond The child was bound to the father; sir, in fine, Seeing how loathly opposite I stood To his unnatural purpose, in fell motion With his prepared sword, he charges home My unprovided body, latch’d mine arm; But when he saw my best alarum’d spirits, Bold in the quarrel’s right, rous’d to th’encounter, Or whether gasted by the noise I made, Full suddenly he fled.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	297	::	 Let him fly far; Not in this land shall he remain uncaught; And found—dispatch’d. The noble Duke my master, My worthy arch and patron, comes tonight: 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.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	298	::	 When I dissuaded him from his intent, And found him pight to do it, with curst speech I threaten’d 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 I should deny As this I would; ay, though thou didst produce My very character, I’d 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 spurs To make thee seek it.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	299	::	 O strange and fast’ned villain! Would he deny his letter, said he? I never got him.
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	300	::	 How now, my noble friend! since I came hither, Which I can call but now, I have heard strange news.
klear	::	REGAN	::	301	::	 If it be true, all vengeance comes too short Which can pursue th’offender. How dost, my lord?
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	302	::	 O madam, my old heart is crack’d, it’s crack’d!
klear	::	REGAN	::	303	::	 What, did my father’s godson seek your life? He whom my father nam’d? your Edgar?
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	304	::	 O lady, lady, shame would have it hid!
klear	::	REGAN	::	305	::	 Was he not companion with the riotous knights That tend upon my father?
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	306	::	 I know not, madam; ’tis too bad, too bad.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	307	::	 Yes, madam, he was of that consort.
klear	::	REGAN	::	308	::	 No marvel then though he were ill affected: ’Tis they have put him on the old man’s death, To have the expense and waste of his 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’ll not be there.
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	309	::	 Nor I, assure thee, Regan. Edmund, I hear that you have shown your father A childlike office.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	310	::	 It was my duty, sir.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	311	::	 He did bewray his practice; and receiv’d This hurt you see, striving to apprehend him.
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	312	::	 Is he pursued?
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	313	::	 Ay, my good lord.
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	314	::	 If he be taken, he shall never more Be fear’d of doing harm: make your own purpose, How in my strength you please. For you, Edmund, Whose virtue and obedience doth this instant So much commend itself, you shall be ours: Natures of such deep trust we shall much need; You we first seize on.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	315	::	 I shall serve you, sir, truly, however else.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	316	::	 For him I thank your grace.
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	317	::	 You know not why we came to visit you?
klear	::	REGAN	::	318	::	 Thus out of season, threading dark-ey’d night: Occasions, noble Gloucester, of some poise, 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 bosom; and bestow Your needful counsel to our business, Which craves the instant use.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	319	::	 I serve you, madam: Your graces are right welcome.
klear	::	OSWALD	::	320	::	 Good dawning to thee, friend: art of this house?
klear	::	KENT	::	321	::	 Ay.
klear	::	OSWALD	::	322	::	 Where may we set our horses?
klear	::	KENT	::	323	::	 I’ the mire.
klear	::	OSWALD	::	324	::	 Prythee, if thou lov’st me, tell me.
klear	::	KENT	::	325	::	 I love thee not.
klear	::	OSWALD	::	326	::	 Why then, I care not for thee.
klear	::	KENT	::	327	::	 If I had thee in Lipsbury pinfold, I would make thee care for me.
klear	::	OSWALD	::	328	::	 Why dost thou use me thus? I know thee not.
klear	::	KENT	::	329	::	 Fellow, I know thee.
klear	::	OSWALD	::	330	::	 What dost thou know me for?
klear	::	KENT	::	331	::	 A knave; a rascal; an eater of broken meats; a base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three-suited, hundred-pound, filthy, worsted-stocking knave; a lily-livered, action-taking, whoreson, glass-gazing, super-serviceable, finical rogue; one trunk-inheriting slave; one that wouldst be a bawd in way of good service, and art nothing but the composition of a knave, beggar, coward, pander, and the son and heir of a mongrel bitch: one whom I will beat into clamorous whining, if thou deniest the least syllable of thy addition.
klear	::	OSWALD	::	332	::	 Why, what a monstrous fellow art thou, thus to rail on one that’s neither known of thee nor knows thee?
klear	::	KENT	::	333	::	 What a brazen-faced varlet art thou, to deny thou knowest me! Is it two days ago since I tripped up thy heels and beat thee before the King? Draw, you rogue: for, though it be night, yet the moon shines; I’ll make a sop o’ the moonshine of you: draw, you whoreson cullionly barber-monger, draw!
klear	::	OSWALD	::	334	::	 Away! I have nothing to do with thee.
klear	::	KENT	::	335	::	 Draw, you rascal: you come with letters against the King; and take vanity the puppet’s part against the royalty of her father: draw, you rogue, or I’ll so carbonado your shanks:—draw, you rascal; come your ways!
klear	::	OSWALD	::	336	::	 Help, ho! murder! help!
klear	::	KENT	::	337	::	 Strike, you slave; stand, rogue, stand; you neat slave, strike!
klear	::	OSWALD	::	338	::	 Help, ho! murder! murder!
klear	::	EDMUND	::	339	::	 How now! What’s the matter? Part!
klear	::	KENT	::	340	::	 With you, goodman boy, if you please: come, I’ll flesh ye; come on, young master.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	341	::	 Weapons! arms! What’s the matter here?
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	342	::	 Keep peace, upon your lives, he dies that strikes again. What is the matter?
klear	::	REGAN	::	343	::	 The messengers from our sister and the King.
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	344	::	 What is your difference? Speak.
klear	::	OSWALD	::	345	::	 I am scarce in breath, my lord.
klear	::	KENT	::	346	::	 No marvel, you have so bestirr’d your valour. You cowardly rascal, nature disclaims in thee; a tailor made thee.
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	347	::	 Thou art a strange fellow: a tailor make a man?
klear	::	KENT	::	348	::	 Ay, a tailor, sir: a stonecutter or a painter could not have made him so ill, though he had been but two years at the trade.
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	349	::	 Speak yet, how grew your quarrel?
klear	::	OSWALD	::	350	::	 This ancient ruffian, sir, whose life I have spared at suit of his grey beard,—
klear	::	KENT	::	351	::	 Thou whoreson zed! thou unnecessary letter! My lord, if you’ll give me leave, I will tread this unbolted villain into mortar and daub the walls of a jakes with him. Spare my grey beard, you wagtail?
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	352	::	 Peace, sirrah! You beastly knave, know you no reverence?
klear	::	KENT	::	353	::	 Yes, sir; but anger hath a privilege.
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	354	::	 Why art thou angry?
klear	::	KENT	::	355	::	 That such a slave as this should wear a sword, Who wears no honesty. Such smiling rogues as these, Like rats, oft bite the holy cords a-twain Which are too intrince t’unloose; smooth every passion That in the natures of their lords rebel; Bring oil to fire, snow to their colder moods; Renege, affirm, and turn their halcyon beaks With every gale and vary of their masters, Knowing naught, like dogs, but following. A plague upon your epileptic visage! Smile you my speeches, as I were a fool? Goose, if I had you upon Sarum plain, I’d drive ye cackling home to Camelot.
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	356	::	 What, art thou mad, old fellow?
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	357	::	 How fell you out? Say that.
klear	::	KENT	::	358	::	 No contraries hold more antipathy Than I and such a knave.
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	359	::	 Why dost thou call him knave? What is his fault?
klear	::	KENT	::	360	::	 His countenance likes me not.
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	361	::	 No more perchance does mine, or his, or hers.
klear	::	KENT	::	362	::	 Sir, ’tis my occupation to be plain: I have seen better faces in my time Than stands on any shoulder that I see Before me at this instant.
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	363	::	 This is some fellow Who, having been prais’d for bluntness, doth affect A saucy roughness, and constrains the garb Quite from his nature: he cannot flatter, he, An honest mind and plain, he must speak truth! An they will take it, so; if not, he’s plain. These kind of knaves I know which in this plainness Harbour more craft and more corrupter ends Than twenty silly-ducking observants That stretch their duties nicely.
klear	::	KENT	::	364	::	 Sir, in good faith, in sincere verity, Under th’allowance of your great aspect, Whose influence, like the wreath of radiant fire On flickering Phoebus’ front,—
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	365	::	 What mean’st by this?
klear	::	KENT	::	366	::	 To go out of my dialect, which you discommend so much. I know, sir, I am no flatterer: he that beguiled you in a plain accent was a plain knave; which, for my part, I will not be, though I should win your displeasure to entreat me to’t.
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	367	::	 What was the offence you gave him?
klear	::	OSWALD	::	368	::	 I never gave him any: It pleas’d the King his master very late To strike at me, upon his misconstruction; When he, compact, and flattering his displeasure, Tripp’d me behind; being down, insulted, rail’d And put upon him such a deal of man, That worthied him, got praises of the King For him attempting who was self-subdu’d; And, in the fleshment of this dread exploit, Drew on me here again.
klear	::	KENT	::	369	::	 None of these rogues and cowards But Ajax is their fool.
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	370	::	 Fetch forth the stocks! You stubborn ancient knave, you reverent braggart, We’ll teach you.
klear	::	KENT	::	371	::	 Sir, I am too old to learn: Call not your stocks for me: I serve the King; On whose employment I was sent to you: You shall do small respect, show too bold malice Against the grace and person of my master, Stocking his messenger.
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	372	::	 Fetch forth the stocks! As I have life and honour, there shall he sit till noon.
klear	::	REGAN	::	373	::	 Till noon! Till night, my lord; and all night too!
klear	::	KENT	::	374	::	 Why, madam, if I were your father’s dog, You should not use me so.
klear	::	REGAN	::	375	::	 Sir, being his knave, I will.
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	376	::	 This is a fellow of the selfsame colour Our sister speaks of. Come, bring away the stocks!
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	377	::	 Let me beseech your grace not to do so: His fault is much, and the good King his master Will check him for’t: your purpos’d low correction Is such as basest and contemned’st wretches For pilferings and most common trespasses, Are punish’d with. The King must take it ill That he, so slightly valued in his messenger, Should have him thus restrained.
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	378	::	 I’ll answer that.
klear	::	REGAN	::	379	::	 My sister may receive it much more worse, To have her gentleman abus’d, assaulted, For following her affairs. Put in his legs.
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	380	::	 Come, my good lord, away.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	381	::	 I am sorry for thee, friend; ’tis the Duke’s pleasure, Whose disposition, all the world well knows, Will not be rubb’d nor stopp’d; I’ll entreat for thee.
klear	::	KENT	::	382	::	 Pray do not, sir: I have watch’d, and travell’d hard; Some time I shall sleep out, the rest I’ll whistle. A good man’s fortune may grow out at heels: Give you good morrow!
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	383	::	 The Duke’s to blame in this: ’twill be ill taken.
klear	::	KENT	::	384	::	 Good King, that must approve the common saw, Thou out of heaven’s benediction com’st To the warm sun. Approach, thou beacon to this under globe, That by thy comfortable beams I may Peruse this letter. Nothing almost sees miracles But misery. I know ’tis from Cordelia, Who hath most fortunately been inform’d Of my obscured course. And shall find time From this enormous state, seeking to give Losses their remedies. All weary and o’erwatch’d, Take vantage, heavy eyes, not to behold This shameful lodging. Fortune, good night: smile once more, turn thy wheel!
klear	::	EDGAR	::	385	::	 I heard myself proclaim’d, And by the happy hollow of a tree Escap’d the hunt. No port is free, no place That guard and most unusual vigilance Does not attend my taking. While I may scape I will preserve myself: and am bethought To take the basest and most poorest shape That ever penury in contempt of man, Brought near to beast: my face I’ll grime with filth, Blanket my loins; elf all my hair in knots, And with presented nakedness outface The winds and persecutions of the sky. The country gives me proof and precedent Of Bedlam beggars, who, with roaring voices, Strike in their numb’d and mortified bare arms Pins, wooden pricks, nails, sprigs of rosemary; And with this horrible object, from low farms, Poor pelting villages, sheep-cotes, and mills, Sometime with lunatic bans, sometime with prayers, Enforce their charity. Poor Turlygod! poor Tom, That’s something yet: Edgar I nothing am.
klear	::	LEAR	::	386	::	 ’Tis strange that they should so depart from home, And not send back my messenger.
klear	::	GENTLEMAN	::	387	::	 As I learn’d, The night before there was no purpose in them Of this remove.
klear	::	KENT	::	388	::	 Hail to thee, noble master!
klear	::	LEAR	::	389	::	 Ha! Mak’st thou this shame thy pastime?
klear	::	KENT	::	390	::	 No, my lord.
klear	::	FOOL	::	391	::	 Ha, ha! he wears cruel garters. Horses are tied by the heads; dogs and bears by the neck, monkeys by the loins, and men by the legs: when a man is overlusty at legs, then he wears wooden nether-stocks.
klear	::	LEAR	::	392	::	 What’s he that hath so much thy place mistook To set thee here?
klear	::	KENT	::	393	::	 It is both he and she, Your son and daughter.
klear	::	LEAR	::	394	::	 No.
klear	::	KENT	::	395	::	 Yes.
klear	::	LEAR	::	396	::	 No, I say.
klear	::	KENT	::	397	::	 I say, yea.
klear	::	LEAR	::	398	::	 No, no; they would not.
klear	::	KENT	::	399	::	 Yes, they have.
klear	::	LEAR	::	400	::	 By Jupiter, I swear no.
klear	::	KENT	::	401	::	 By Juno, I swear ay.
klear	::	LEAR	::	402	::	 They durst not do’t. They could not, would not do’t; ’tis worse than murder, To do upon respect such violent outrage: Resolve me, with all modest haste, which way Thou mightst deserve or they impose this usage, Coming from us.
klear	::	KENT	::	403	::	 My lord, when at their home I did commend your highness’ letters to them, Ere I was risen from the place that show’d My duty kneeling, came there a reeking post, Stew’d in his haste, half breathless, panting forth From Goneril his mistress salutations; Deliver’d letters, spite of intermission, Which presently they read; on those contents, They summon’d up their meiny, straight took horse; Commanded me to follow and attend The leisure of their answer; gave me cold looks: And meeting here the other messenger, Whose welcome I perceiv’d had poison’d mine, Being the very fellow which of late Display’d so saucily against your highness, Having more man than wit about me, drew; He rais’d the house with loud and coward cries. Your son and daughter found this trespass worth The shame which here it suffers.
klear	::	FOOL	::	404	::	 Winter’s not gone yet, if the wild geese fly that way. Fathers that wear rags Do make their children blind, But fathers that bear bags Shall see their children kind. Fortune, that arrant whore, Ne’er turns the key to th’ poor. But for all this, thou shalt have as many dolours for thy daughters as thou canst tell in a year.
klear	::	LEAR	::	405	::	 O, how this mother swells up toward my heart! _Hysterica passio_, down, thou climbing sorrow, Thy element’s below! Where is this daughter?
klear	::	KENT	::	406	::	 With the earl, sir, here within.
klear	::	LEAR	::	407	::	 Follow me not; stay here.
klear	::	GENTLEMAN	::	408	::	 Made you no more offence but what you speak of?
klear	::	KENT	::	409	::	 None. How chance the King comes with so small a number?
klear	::	FOOL	::	410	::	 An thou hadst been set i’ the stocks for that question, thou hadst well deserved it.
klear	::	KENT	::	411	::	 Why, fool?
klear	::	FOOL	::	412	::	 We’ll set thee to school to an ant, to teach thee there’s no labouring i’the winter. All that follow their noses are led by their eyes but blind men; and there’s not a nose among twenty but can smell him that’s stinking. Let go thy hold when a great wheel runs down a hill, lest it break thy neck with following it; but the great one that goes upward, let him draw thee after. When a wise man gives thee better counsel, give me mine again: I would have none but knaves follow it, since a fool gives it. That sir which serves and seeks for gain, And follows but for form, Will pack when it begins to rain, And leave thee in the storm. But I will tarry; the fool will stay, And let the wise man fly: The knave turns fool that runs away; The fool no knave perdy.
klear	::	KENT	::	413	::	 Where learn’d you this, fool?
klear	::	FOOL	::	414	::	 Not i’ the stocks, fool.
klear	::	LEAR	::	415	::	 Deny to speak with me? They are sick? they are weary? They have travell’d all the night? Mere fetches; The images of revolt and flying off. Fetch me a better answer.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	416	::	 My dear lord, You know the fiery quality of the Duke; How unremovable and fix’d he is In his own course.
klear	::	LEAR	::	417	::	 Vengeance! plague! death! confusion! Fiery? What quality? Why, Gloucester, Gloucester, I’d speak with the Duke of Cornwall and his wife.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	418	::	 Well, my good lord, I have inform’d them so.
klear	::	LEAR	::	419	::	 Inform’d them! Dost thou understand me, man?
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	420	::	 Ay, my good lord.
klear	::	LEAR	::	421	::	 The King would speak with Cornwall; the dear father Would with his daughter speak, commands, tends, service, Are they inform’d of this? My breath and blood! Fiery? The fiery Duke, tell the hot Duke that— No, but not yet: maybe he is not well: Infirmity doth still neglect all office Whereto our health is bound: we are not ourselves When nature, being oppress’d, commands the mind To suffer with the body: I’ll forbear; And am fallen out with my more headier will, To take the indispos’d and sickly fit For the sound man.  Death on my state! Wherefore Should he sit here? This act persuades me That this remotion of the Duke and her Is practice only. Give me my servant forth. Go tell the Duke and’s wife I’d speak with them, Now, presently: bid them come forth and hear me, Or at their chamber door I’ll beat the drum Till it cry sleep to death.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	422	::	 I would have all well betwixt you.
klear	::	LEAR	::	423	::	 O me, my heart, my rising heart! But down!
klear	::	FOOL	::	424	::	 Cry to it, nuncle, as the cockney did to the eels when she put ’em i’ the paste alive; she knapped ’em o’ the coxcombs with a stick and cried ‘Down, wantons, down!’ ’Twas her brother that, in pure kindness to his horse buttered his hay.
klear	::	LEAR	::	425	::	 Good morrow to you both.
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	426	::	 Hail to your grace!
klear	::	REGAN	::	427	::	 I am glad to see your highness.
klear	::	LEAR	::	428	::	 Regan, I think you are; I know what reason I have to think so: if thou shouldst not be glad, I would divorce me from thy mother’s tomb, Sepulchring an adultress.  O, are you free? Some other time for that.—Beloved Regan, Thy sister’s naught: O Regan, she hath tied Sharp-tooth’d unkindness, like a vulture, here.
klear	::	REGAN	::	429	::	 I pray you, sir, take patience. I have hope You less know how to value her desert Than she to scant her duty.
klear	::	LEAR	::	430	::	 Say, how is that?
klear	::	REGAN	::	431	::	 I cannot think my sister in the least Would fail her obligation. If, sir, perchance She have restrain’d the riots of your followers, ’Tis on such ground, and to such wholesome end, As clears her from all blame.
klear	::	LEAR	::	432	::	 My curses on her.
klear	::	REGAN	::	433	::	 O, sir, you are old; Nature in you stands on the very verge Of her confine: you should be rul’d and led By some discretion, that discerns your state Better than you yourself. Therefore I pray you, That to our sister you do make return; Say you have wrong’d her, sir.
klear	::	LEAR	::	434	::	 Ask her forgiveness? Do you but mark how this becomes the house? ‘Dear daughter, I confess that I am old;  Age is unnecessary: on my knees I beg That you’ll vouchsafe me raiment, bed, and food.’
klear	::	REGAN	::	435	::	 Good sir, no more! These are unsightly tricks: Return you to my sister.
klear	::	LEAR	::	436	::	  Never, Regan: She hath abated me of half my train; Look’d black upon me; struck me with her tongue, Most serpent-like, upon the very heart. All the stor’d vengeances of heaven fall On her ingrateful top! Strike her young bones, You taking airs, with lameness!
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	437	::	 Fie, sir, fie!
klear	::	LEAR	::	438	::	 You nimble lightnings, dart your blinding flames Into her scornful eyes! Infect her beauty, You fen-suck’d fogs, drawn by the powerful sun, To fall and blast her pride!
klear	::	REGAN	::	439	::	 O the blest gods! So will you wish on me when the rash mood is on.
klear	::	LEAR	::	440	::	 No, Regan, thou shalt never have my curse. Thy tender-hefted nature shall not give Thee o’er to harshness. Her eyes are fierce; but thine Do comfort, and not burn. ’Tis not in thee To grudge my pleasures, to cut off my train, To bandy hasty words, to scant my sizes, And, in conclusion, to oppose the bolt Against my coming in. Thou better know’st The offices of nature, bond of childhood, Effects of courtesy, dues of gratitude; Thy half o’ the kingdom hast thou not forgot, Wherein I thee endow’d.
klear	::	REGAN	::	441	::	 Good sir, to the purpose.
klear	::	LEAR	::	442	::	 Who put my man i’ the stocks?
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	443	::	 What trumpet’s that?
klear	::	REGAN	::	444	::	 I know’t, my sister’s: this approves her letter, That she would soon be here.
klear	::	LEAR	::	445	::	 This is a slave, whose easy borrowed pride Dwells in the fickle grace of her he follows. Out, varlet, from my sight!
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	446	::	 What means your grace?
klear	::	LEAR	::	447	::	 Who stock’d my servant? Regan, I have good hope Thou didst not know on’t. Who comes here? O heavens!
klear	::	GONERIL	::	448	::	 Why not by the hand, sir? How have I offended? All’s not offence that indiscretion finds And dotage terms so.
klear	::	LEAR	::	449	::	 O sides, you are too tough! Will you yet hold? How came my man i’ the stocks?
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	450	::	 I set him there, sir: but his own disorders Deserv’d much less advancement.
klear	::	LEAR	::	451	::	 You? Did you?
klear	::	REGAN	::	452	::	 I pray you, father, being weak, seem so. If, till the expiration of your month, You will return and sojourn with my sister, Dismissing half your train, come then to me: I am now from home, and out of that provision Which shall be needful for your entertainment.
klear	::	LEAR	::	453	::	 Return to her, and fifty men dismiss’d? No, rather I abjure all roofs, and choose To wage against the enmity o’ the air; To be a comrade with the wolf and owl, Necessity’s sharp pinch! Return with her? Why, the hot-blooded France, that dowerless took Our youngest born, I could as well be brought To knee his throne, and, squire-like, pension beg To keep base life afoot. Return with her? Persuade me rather to be slave and sumpter To this detested groom.
klear	::	GONERIL	::	454	::	 At your choice, sir.
klear	::	LEAR	::	455	::	 I prythee, daughter, do not make me mad: I will not trouble thee, my child; farewell: We’ll no more meet, no more see one another. But yet thou art my flesh, my blood, my daughter; Or rather a disease that’s in my flesh, Which I must needs call mine. Thou art a boil, A plague sore, or embossed carbuncle In my corrupted blood. But I’ll not chide thee; Let shame come when it will, I do not call it: I do not bid the thunder-bearer shoot, Nor tell tales of thee to high-judging Jove: Mend when thou canst; be better at thy leisure: I can be patient; I can stay with Regan, I and my hundred knights.
klear	::	REGAN	::	456	::	 Not altogether so, I look’d not for you yet, nor am provided For your fit welcome. Give ear, sir, to my sister; For those that mingle reason with your passion Must be content to think you old, and so— But she knows what she does.
klear	::	LEAR	::	457	::	 Is this well spoken?
klear	::	REGAN	::	458	::	 I dare avouch it, sir: what, fifty followers? Is it not well? What should you need of more? Yea, or so many, sith that both charge and danger Speak ’gainst so great a number? How in one house Should many people, under two commands, Hold amity? ’Tis hard; almost impossible.
klear	::	GONERIL	::	459	::	 Why might not you, my lord, receive attendance From those that she calls servants, or from mine?
klear	::	REGAN	::	460	::	 Why not, my lord? If then they chanc’d to slack ye, We could control them. If you will come to me,— For now I spy a danger,—I entreat you To bring but five-and-twenty: to no more Will I give place or notice.
klear	::	LEAR	::	461	::	 I gave you all,—
klear	::	REGAN	::	462	::	 And in good time you gave it.
klear	::	LEAR	::	463	::	 Made you my guardians, my depositaries; But kept a reservation to be followed With such a number. What, must I come to you With five-and-twenty, Regan, said you so?
klear	::	REGAN	::	464	::	 And speak’t again my lord; no more with me.
klear	::	LEAR	::	465	::	 Those wicked creatures yet do look well-favour’d When others are more wicked; not being the worst Stands in some rank of praise.  I’ll go with thee: Thy fifty yet doth double five-and-twenty, And thou art twice her love.
klear	::	GONERIL	::	466	::	 Hear me, my lord: What need you five-and-twenty? Ten? Or five? To follow in a house where twice so many Have a command to tend you?
klear	::	REGAN	::	467	::	 What need one?
klear	::	LEAR	::	468	::	 O, reason not the need: our basest beggars Are in the poorest thing superfluous: Allow not nature more than nature needs, Man’s life is cheap as beast’s. Thou art a lady; If only to go warm were gorgeous, Why, nature needs not what thou gorgeous wear’st Which scarcely keeps thee warm. But, for true need,— You heavens, give me that patience, patience I need! You see me here, you gods, a poor old man, As full of grief as age; wretched in both! If it be you that stirs these daughters’ hearts Against their father, fool me not so much To bear it tamely; touch me with noble anger, And let not women’s weapons, water-drops, Stain my man’s cheeks! No, you unnatural hags, I will have such revenges on you both That all the world shall,—I will do such things,— What they are yet, I know not; but they shall be The terrors of the earth. You think I’ll weep; No, I’ll not weep:—  I have full cause of weeping; but this heart Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws Or ere I’ll weep.—O fool, I shall go mad!
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	469	::	 Let us withdraw; ’twill be a storm.
klear	::	REGAN	::	470	::	 This house is little: the old man and his people Cannot be well bestow’d.
klear	::	GONERIL	::	471	::	 ’Tis his own blame; hath put himself from rest And must needs taste his folly.
klear	::	REGAN	::	472	::	 For his particular, I’ll receive him gladly, But not one follower.
klear	::	GONERIL	::	473	::	 So am I purpos’d. Where is my lord of Gloucester?
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	474	::	 Followed the old man forth, he is return’d.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	475	::	 The King is in high rage.
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	476	::	 Whither is he going?
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	477	::	 He calls to horse; but will I know not whither.
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	478	::	 ’Tis best to give him way; he leads himself.
klear	::	GONERIL	::	479	::	 My lord, entreat him by no means to stay.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	480	::	 Alack, the night comes on, and the high winds Do sorely ruffle; for many miles about There’s scarce a bush.
klear	::	REGAN	::	481	::	 O, sir, to wilful men The injuries that they themselves procure Must be their schoolmasters. Shut up your doors. He is attended with a desperate train, And what they may incense him to, being apt To have his ear abus’d, wisdom bids fear.
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	482	::	 Shut up your doors, my lord; ’tis a wild night. My Regan counsels well: come out o’ the storm.
klear	::	KENT	::	483	::	 Who’s there, besides foul weather?
klear	::	GENTLEMAN	::	484	::	 One minded like the weather, most unquietly.
klear	::	KENT	::	485	::	 I know you. Where’s the King?
klear	::	GENTLEMAN	::	486	::	 Contending with the fretful elements; Bids the wind blow the earth into the sea, Or swell the curled waters ’bove the main, That things might change or cease; tears his white hair, Which the impetuous blasts with eyeless rage, Catch in their fury and make nothing of; Strives in his little world of man to outscorn The to-and-fro-conflicting wind and rain. This night, wherein the cub-drawn bear would couch, The lion and the belly-pinched wolf Keep their fur dry, unbonneted he runs, And bids what will take all.
klear	::	KENT	::	487	::	 But who is with him?
klear	::	GENTLEMAN	::	488	::	 None but the fool, who labours to out-jest His heart-struck injuries.
klear	::	KENT	::	489	::	 Sir, I do know you; And dare, upon the warrant of my note Commend a dear thing to you. There is division, Although as yet the face of it be cover’d With mutual cunning, ’twixt Albany and Cornwall; Who have, as who have not, that their great stars Throne’d and set high; servants, who seem no less, Which are to France the spies and speculations Intelligent of our state. What hath been seen, Either in snuffs and packings of the Dukes; Or the hard rein which both of them have borne Against the old kind King; or something deeper, Whereof, perchance, these are but furnishings;— But, true it is, from France there comes a power Into this scatter’d kingdom; who already, Wise in our negligence, have secret feet In some of our best ports, and are at point To show their open banner.—Now to you: If on my credit you dare build so far To make your speed to Dover, you shall find Some that will thank you making just report Of how unnatural and bemadding sorrow The King hath cause to plain. I am a gentleman of blood and breeding; And from some knowledge and assurance Offer this office to you.
klear	::	GENTLEMAN	::	490	::	 I will talk further with you.
klear	::	KENT	::	491	::	 No, do not. For confirmation that I am much more Than my out-wall, open this purse, and take What it contains. If you shall see Cordelia, As fear not but you shall, show her this ring; And she will tell you who your fellow is That yet you do not know. Fie on this storm! I will go seek the King.
klear	::	GENTLEMAN	::	492	::	 Give me your hand: have you no more to say?
klear	::	KENT	::	493	::	 Few words, but, to effect, more than all yet: That, when we have found the King, in which your pain That way, I’ll this; he that first lights on him Holla the other.
klear	::	LEAR	::	494	::	 Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! Rage! blow! You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout Till you have drench’d our steeples, drown’d the cocks! You sulphurous and thought-executing fires, Vaunt-couriers to oak-cleaving thunderbolts, Singe my white head! And thou, all-shaking thunder, Strike flat the thick rotundity o’ the world! Crack nature’s moulds, all germens spill at once, That make ingrateful man!
klear	::	FOOL	::	495	::	 O nuncle, court holy-water in a dry house is better than this rain-water out o’ door. Good nuncle, in; and ask thy daughters blessing: here’s a night pities neither wise men nor fools.
klear	::	LEAR	::	496	::	 Rumble thy bellyful! Spit, fire! spout, rain! Nor rain, wind, thunder, fire are my daughters; I tax not you, you elements, with unkindness. I never gave you kingdom, call’d you children; You owe me no subscription: then let fall Your horrible pleasure. Here I stand your slave, A poor, infirm, weak, and despis’d old man: But yet I call you servile ministers, That will with two pernicious daughters join Your high-engender’d battles ’gainst a head So old and white as this! O! O! ’tis foul!
klear	::	FOOL	::	497	::	 He that has a house to put’s head in has a good head-piece. The codpiece that will house Before the head has any, The head and he shall louse: So beggars marry many. The man that makes his toe What he his heart should make Shall of a corn cry woe, And turn his sleep to wake. For there was never yet fair woman but she made mouths in a glass.
klear	::	LEAR	::	498	::	 No, I will be the pattern of all patience; I will say nothing.
klear	::	KENT	::	499	::	 Who’s there?
klear	::	FOOL	::	500	::	 Marry, here’s grace and a codpiece; that’s a wise man and a fool.
klear	::	KENT	::	501	::	 Alas, sir, are you here? Things that love night Love not such nights as these; the wrathful skies Gallow the very wanderers of the dark, And make them keep their caves. Since I was man, Such sheets of fire, such bursts of horrid thunder, Such groans of roaring wind and rain I never Remember to have heard. Man’s nature cannot carry Th’affliction, nor the fear.
klear	::	LEAR	::	502	::	 Let the great gods, That keep this dreadful pudder o’er our heads, Find out their enemies now. Tremble, thou wretch, That hast within thee undivulged crimes Unwhipp’d of justice. Hide thee, thou bloody hand; Thou perjur’d, and thou simular of virtue That art incestuous. Caitiff, to pieces shake That under covert and convenient seeming Hast practis’d on man’s life: close pent-up guilts, Rive your concealing continents, and cry These dreadful summoners grace. I am a man More sinn’d against than sinning.
klear	::	KENT	::	503	::	 Alack, bareheaded! Gracious my lord, hard by here is a hovel; Some friendship will it lend you ’gainst the tempest: Repose you there, whilst I to this hard house,— More harder than the stones whereof ’tis rais’d; Which even but now, demanding after you, Denied me to come in,—return, and force Their scanted courtesy.
klear	::	LEAR	::	504	::	 My wits begin to turn. Come on, my boy. How dost, my boy? Art cold? I am cold myself. Where is this straw, my fellow? The art of our necessities is strange, That can make vile things precious. Come, your hovel. Poor fool and knave, I have one part in my heart That’s sorry yet for thee.
klear	::	FOOL	::	505	::	  He that has and a little tiny wit, With heigh-ho, the wind and the rain, Must make content with his fortunes fit, Though the rain it raineth every day.
klear	::	LEAR	::	506	::	 True, boy. Come, bring us to this hovel.
klear	::	FOOL	::	507	::	 This is a brave night to cool a courtezan. I’ll speak a prophecy ere I go: When priests are more in word than matter; When brewers mar their malt with water; When nobles are their tailors’ tutors; No heretics burn’d, but wenches’ suitors; When every case in law is right; No squire in debt, nor no poor knight; When slanders do not live in tongues; Nor cut-purses come not to throngs; When usurers tell their gold i’ the field; And bawds and whores do churches build, Then shall the realm of Albion Come to great confusion: Then comes the time, who lives to see’t, That going shall be us’d with feet. This prophecy Merlin shall make; for I live before his time.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	508	::	 Alack, alack, Edmund, I like not this unnatural dealing. When I desired their leave that I might pity him, they took from me the use of mine own house; charged me on pain of perpetual displeasure, neither to speak of him, entreat for him, or any way sustain him.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	509	::	 Most savage and unnatural!
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	510	::	 Go to; say you nothing. There is division between the Dukes, and a worse matter than that: I have received a letter this night;—’tis dangerous to be spoken;—I have locked the letter in my closet: these injuries the King now bears will be revenged home; there’s part of a power already footed: we must incline to the King. I will look him, and privily relieve him: go you and maintain talk with the Duke, that my charity be not of him perceived: if he ask for me, I am ill, and gone to bed. If I die for it, as no less is threatened me, the King my old master must be relieved. There is some strange thing toward, Edmund; pray you be careful.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	511	::	 This courtesy, forbid thee, shall the Duke Instantly know; and of that letter too. This seems a fair deserving, and must draw me That which my father loses, no less than all: The younger rises when the old doth fall.
klear	::	KENT	::	512	::	 Here is the place, my lord; good my lord, enter: The tyranny of the open night’s too rough For nature to endure.
klear	::	LEAR	::	513	::	 Let me alone.
klear	::	KENT	::	514	::	 Good my lord, enter here.
klear	::	LEAR	::	515	::	 Wilt break my heart?
klear	::	KENT	::	516	::	 I had rather break mine own. Good my lord, enter.
klear	::	LEAR	::	517	::	 Thou think’st ’tis much that this contentious storm Invades us to the skin: so ’tis to thee, But where the greater malady is fix’d, The lesser is scarce felt. Thou’dst shun a bear; But if thy flight lay toward the raging sea, Thou’dst meet the bear i’ the mouth. When the mind’s free, The body’s delicate: the tempest in my mind Doth from my senses take all feeling else Save what beats there. Filial ingratitude! Is it not as this mouth should tear this hand For lifting food to’t? But I will punish home; No, I will weep no more. In such a night To shut me out! Pour on; I will endure: In such a night as this! O Regan, Goneril! Your old kind father, whose frank heart gave all, O, that way madness lies; let me shun that; No more of that.
klear	::	KENT	::	518	::	 Good my lord, enter here.
klear	::	LEAR	::	519	::	 Prythee go in thyself; seek thine own ease: This tempest will not give me leave to ponder On things would hurt me more. But I’ll go in.  In, boy; go first. You houseless poverty, Nay, get thee in. I’ll pray, and then I’ll sleep.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	520	::	  Fathom and half, fathom and half! Poor Tom!
klear	::	FOOL	::	521	::	 Come not in here, nuncle, here’s a spirit. Help me, help me!
klear	::	KENT	::	522	::	 Give me thy hand. Who’s there?
klear	::	FOOL	::	523	::	 A spirit, a spirit: he says his name’s poor Tom.
klear	::	KENT	::	524	::	 What art thou that dost grumble there i’ the straw? Come forth.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	525	::	 Away! the foul fiend follows me! Through the sharp hawthorn blows the cold wind. Humh! go to thy cold bed, and warm thee.
klear	::	LEAR	::	526	::	 Didst thou give all to thy two daughters? And art thou come to this?
klear	::	EDGAR	::	527	::	 Who gives anything to poor Tom? Whom the foul fiend hath led through fire and through flame, through ford and whirlpool, o’er bog and quagmire; that hath laid knives under his pillow and halters in his pew, set ratsbane by his porridge; made him proud of heart, to ride on a bay trotting horse over four-inched bridges, to course his own shadow for a traitor. Bless thy five wits! \tTom’s a-cold. O, do, de, do, de, do, de. Bless thee from whirlwinds, star-blasting, and taking! Do poor Tom some charity, whom the foul fiend vexes. There could I have him now, and there,—and there again, and there.
klear	::	LEAR	::	528	::	 What, have his daughters brought him to this pass? Couldst thou save nothing? Didst thou give ’em all?
klear	::	FOOL	::	529	::	 Nay, he reserv’d a blanket, else we had been all shamed.
klear	::	LEAR	::	530	::	 Now all the plagues that in the pendulous air Hang fated o’er men’s faults light on thy daughters!
klear	::	KENT	::	531	::	 He hath no daughters, sir.
klear	::	LEAR	::	532	::	 Death, traitor! nothing could have subdu’d nature To such a lowness but his unkind daughters. Is it the fashion that discarded fathers Should have thus little mercy on their flesh? Judicious punishment! ’twas this flesh begot Those pelican daughters.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	533	::	 Pillicock sat on Pillicock hill, Alow, alow, loo loo!
klear	::	FOOL	::	534	::	 This cold night will turn us all to fools and madmen.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	535	::	 Take heed o’ th’ foul fiend: obey thy parents; keep thy word justly; swear not; commit not with man’s sworn spouse; set not thy sweet-heart on proud array. Tom’s a-cold.
klear	::	LEAR	::	536	::	 What hast thou been?
klear	::	EDGAR	::	537	::	 A serving-man, proud in heart and mind; that curled my hair; wore gloves in my cap; served the lust of my mistress’ heart, and did the act of darkness with her; swore as many oaths as I spake words, and broke them in the sweet face of heaven. One that slept in the contriving of lust, and waked to do it. Wine loved I deeply, dice dearly; and in woman out-paramour’d the Turk. False of heart, light of ear, bloody of hand; hog in sloth, fox in stealth, wolf in greediness, dog in madness, lion in prey. Let not the creaking of shoes nor the rustling of silks betray thy poor heart to woman. Keep thy foot out of brothels, thy hand out of plackets, thy pen from lender’s book, and defy the foul fiend. Still through the hawthorn blows the cold wind: says suum, mun, nonny. Dolphin my boy, boy, sessa! let him trot by.
klear	::	LEAR	::	538	::	 Why, thou wert better in thy grave than to answer with thy uncovered body this extremity of the skies. Is man no more than this? Consider him well. Thou owest the worm no silk, the beast no hide, the sheep no wool, the cat no perfume. Ha! here’s three on’s are sophisticated! Thou art the thing itself: unaccommodated man is no more but such a poor, bare, forked animal as thou art. Off, off, you lendings! Come, unbutton here.
klear	::	FOOL	::	539	::	 Prythee, nuncle, be contented; ’tis a naughty night to swim in. Now a little fire in a wild field were like an old lecher’s heart, a small spark, all the rest on’s body cold. Look, here comes a walking fire.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	540	::	 This is the foul fiend Flibbertigibbet: he begins at curfew, and walks till the first cock; he gives the web and the pin, squints the eye, and makes the harelip; mildews the white wheat, and hurts the poor creature of earth. Swithold footed thrice the old; He met the nightmare, and her nine-fold; Bid her alight and her troth plight, And aroint thee, witch, aroint thee!
klear	::	KENT	::	541	::	 How fares your grace?
klear	::	LEAR	::	542	::	 What’s he?
klear	::	KENT	::	543	::	 Who’s there? What is’t you seek?
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	544	::	 What are you there? Your names?
klear	::	EDGAR	::	545	::	 Poor Tom; that eats the swimming frog, the toad, the todpole, the wall-newt and the water; that in the fury of his heart, when the foul fiend rages, eats cow-dung for sallets; swallows the old rat and the ditch-dog; drinks the green mantle of the standing pool; who is whipped from tithing to tithing, and stocked, punished, and imprisoned; who hath had three suits to his back, six shirts to his body, Horse to ride, and weapon to wear. But mice and rats and such small deer, Have been Tom’s food for seven long year. Beware my follower. Peace, Smulkin; peace, thou fiend!
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	546	::	 What, hath your grace no better company?
klear	::	EDGAR	::	547	::	 The prince of darkness is a gentleman: Modo he’s call’d, and Mahu.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	548	::	 Our flesh and blood, my lord, is grown so vile That it doth hate what gets it.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	549	::	 Poor Tom’s a-cold.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	550	::	 Go in with me: my duty cannot suffer T’obey in all your daughters’ hard commands; Though their injunction be to bar my doors, And let this tyrannous night take hold upon you, Yet have I ventur’d to come seek you out, And bring you where both fire and food is ready.
klear	::	LEAR	::	551	::	 First let me talk with this philosopher. What is the cause of thunder?
klear	::	KENT	::	552	::	 Good my lord, take his offer; go into the house.
klear	::	LEAR	::	553	::	 I’ll talk a word with this same learned Theban. What is your study?
klear	::	EDGAR	::	554	::	 How to prevent the fiend and to kill vermin.
klear	::	LEAR	::	555	::	 Let me ask you one word in private.
klear	::	KENT	::	556	::	 Importune him once more to go, my lord; His wits begin t’unsettle.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	557	::	 Canst thou blame him? His daughters seek his death. Ah, that good Kent! He said it would be thus, poor banish’d man! Thou sayest the King grows mad; I’ll tell thee, friend, I am almost mad myself. I had a son, Now outlaw’d from my blood; he sought my life But lately, very late: I lov’d him, friend, No father his son dearer: true to tell thee,
klear	::	LEAR	::	558	::	 O, cry you mercy, sir. Noble philosopher, your company.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	559	::	 Tom’s a-cold.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	560	::	 In, fellow, there, into the hovel; keep thee warm.
klear	::	LEAR	::	561	::	 Come, let’s in all.
klear	::	KENT	::	562	::	 This way, my lord.
klear	::	LEAR	::	563	::	 With him; I will keep still with my philosopher.
klear	::	KENT	::	564	::	 Good my lord, soothe him; let him take the fellow.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	565	::	 Take him you on.
klear	::	KENT	::	566	::	 Sirrah, come on; go along with us.
klear	::	LEAR	::	567	::	 Come, good Athenian.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	568	::	 No words, no words, hush.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	569	::	 Child Rowland to the dark tower came, His word was still—Fie, foh, and fum, I smell the blood of a British man.
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	570	::	 I will have my revenge ere I depart his house.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	571	::	 How, my lord, I may be censured, that nature thus gives way to loyalty, something fears me to think of.
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	572	::	 I now perceive it was not altogether your brother’s evil disposition made him seek his death; but a provoking merit, set a-work by a reproveable badness in himself.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	573	::	 How malicious is my fortune, that I must repent to be just! This is the letter he spoke of, which approves him an intelligent party to the advantages of France. O heavens! that this treason were not; or not I the detector!
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	574	::	 Go with me to the Duchess.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	575	::	 If the matter of this paper be certain, you have mighty business in hand.
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	576	::	 True or false, it hath made thee Earl of Gloucester. Seek out where thy father is, that he may be ready for our apprehension.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	577	::	  If I find him comforting the King, it will stuff his suspicion more fully. I will persever in my course of loyalty, though the conflict be sore between that and my blood.
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	578	::	 I will lay trust upon thee; and thou shalt find a dearer father in my love.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	579	::	 Here is better than the open air; take it thankfully. I will piece out the comfort with what addition I can: I will not be long from you.
klear	::	KENT	::	580	::	 All the power of his wits have given way to his impatience:— the gods reward your kindness!
klear	::	EDGAR	::	581	::	 Frateretto calls me; and tells me Nero is an angler in the lake of darkness. Pray, innocent, and beware the foul fiend.
klear	::	FOOL	::	582	::	 Prythee, nuncle, tell me whether a madman be a gentleman or a yeoman.
klear	::	LEAR	::	583	::	 A king, a king!
klear	::	FOOL	::	584	::	 No, he’s a yeoman that has a gentleman to his son; for he’s a mad yeoman that sees his son a gentleman before him.
klear	::	LEAR	::	585	::	 To have a thousand with red burning spits Come hissing in upon ’em.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	586	::	 The foul fiend bites my back.
klear	::	FOOL	::	587	::	 He’s mad that trusts in the tameness of a wolf, a horse’s health, a boy’s love, or a whore’s oath.
klear	::	LEAR	::	588	::	 It shall be done; I will arraign them straight.  Come, sit thou here, most learned justicer;  Thou, sapient sir, sit here. Now, you she-foxes!—
klear	::	EDGAR	::	589	::	 Look, where he stands and glares! Want’st thou eyes at trial, madam? Come o’er the bourn, Bessy, to me.
klear	::	FOOL	::	590	::	 Her boat hath a leak, And she must not speak Why she dares not come over to thee.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	591	::	 The foul fiend haunts poor Tom in the voice of a nightingale. Hoppedance cries in Tom’s belly for two white herring. Croak not, black angel; I have no food for thee.
klear	::	KENT	::	592	::	 How do you, sir? Stand you not so amaz’d; Will you lie down and rest upon the cushions?
klear	::	LEAR	::	593	::	 I’ll see their trial first. Bring in their evidence.  Thou, robed man of justice, take thy place.  And thou, his yokefellow of equity, Bench by his side.  You are o’ the commission, Sit you too.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	594	::	 Let us deal justly. Sleepest or wakest thou, jolly shepherd? Thy sheep be in the corn; And for one blast of thy minikin mouth Thy sheep shall take no harm. Purr! the cat is grey.
klear	::	LEAR	::	595	::	 Arraign her first; ’tis Goneril. I here take my oath before this honourable assembly, she kicked the poor King her father.
klear	::	FOOL	::	596	::	 Come hither, mistress. Is your name Goneril?
klear	::	LEAR	::	597	::	 She cannot deny it.
klear	::	FOOL	::	598	::	 Cry you mercy, I took you for a joint-stool.
klear	::	LEAR	::	599	::	 And here’s another, whose warp’d looks proclaim What store her heart is made on. Stop her there! Arms, arms! sword! fire! Corruption in the place! False justicer, why hast thou let her ’scape?
klear	::	EDGAR	::	600	::	 Bless thy five wits!
klear	::	KENT	::	601	::	 O pity! Sir, where is the patience now That you so oft have boasted to retain?
klear	::	EDGAR	::	602	::	  My tears begin to take his part so much They mar my counterfeiting.
klear	::	LEAR	::	603	::	 The little dogs and all, Trey, Blanch, and Sweetheart, see, they bark at me.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	604	::	 Tom will throw his head at them. Avaunt, you curs! Be thy mouth or black or white, Tooth that poisons if it bite; Mastiff, greyhound, mongrel grim, Hound or spaniel, brach or him, Or bobtail tike or trundle-tail, Tom will make them weep and wail; For, with throwing thus my head, Dogs leap the hatch, and all are fled. Do, de, de, de. Sessa! Come, march to wakes and fairs and market towns. Poor Tom, thy horn is dry.
klear	::	LEAR	::	605	::	 Then let them anatomize Regan; see what breeds about her heart. Is there any cause in nature that makes these hard hearts?  You, sir, I entertain you for one of my hundred; only I do not like the fashion of your garments. You’ll say they are Persian; but let them be changed.
klear	::	KENT	::	606	::	 Now, good my lord, lie here and rest awhile.
klear	::	LEAR	::	607	::	 Make no noise, make no noise; draw the curtains. So, so. We’ll go to supper i’ the morning.
klear	::	FOOL	::	608	::	 And I’ll go to bed at noon.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	609	::	 Come hither, friend; Where is the King my master?
klear	::	KENT	::	610	::	 Here, sir; but trouble him not, his wits are gone.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	611	::	 Good friend, I prythee, take him in thy arms; I have o’erheard a plot of death upon him; There is a litter ready; lay him in’t And drive towards Dover, friend, where thou shalt meet Both welcome and protection. Take up thy master; If thou shouldst dally half an hour, his life, With thine, and all that offer to defend him, Stand in assured loss. Take up, take up; And follow me, that will to some provision Give thee quick conduct.
klear	::	KENT	::	612	::	 Oppressed nature sleeps. This rest might yet have balm’d thy broken sinews, Which, if convenience will not allow, Stand in hard cure. Come, help to bear thy master;  Thou must not stay behind.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	613	::	 Come, come, away!
klear	::	EDGAR	::	614	::	 When we our betters see bearing our woes, We scarcely think our miseries our foes. Who alone suffers, suffers most i’ the mind, Leaving free things and happy shows behind: But then the mind much sufferance doth o’erskip When grief hath mates, and bearing fellowship. How light and portable my pain seems now, When that which makes me bend makes the King bow; He childed as I fathered! Tom, away! Mark the high noises; and thyself bewray, When false opinion, whose wrong thoughts defile thee, In thy just proof repeals and reconciles thee. What will hap more tonight, safe ’scape the King! Lurk, lurk.
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	615	::	 Post speedily to my lord your husband, show him this letter: the army of France is landed. Seek out the traitor Gloucester.
klear	::	REGAN	::	616	::	 Hang him instantly.
klear	::	GONERIL	::	617	::	 Pluck out his eyes.
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	618	::	 Leave him to my displeasure. Edmund, keep you our sister company: the revenges we are bound to take upon your traitorous father are not fit for your beholding. Advise the Duke where you are going, to a most festinate preparation: we are bound to the like. Our posts shall be swift and intelligent betwixt us. Farewell, dear sister, farewell, my lord of Gloucester.
klear	::	OSWALD	::	619	::	 My lord of Gloucester hath convey’d him hence: Some five or six and thirty of his knights, Hot questrists after him, met him at gate; Who, with some other of the lord’s dependants, Are gone with him toward Dover: where they boast To have well-armed friends.
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	620	::	 Get horses for your mistress.
klear	::	GONERIL	::	621	::	 Farewell, sweet lord, and sister.
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	622	::	 Edmund, farewell.
klear	::	REGAN	::	623	::	 Ingrateful fox! ’tis he.
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	624	::	 Bind fast his corky arms.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	625	::	 What mean your graces? Good my friends, consider you are my guests. Do me no foul play, friends.
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	626	::	 Bind him, I say.
klear	::	REGAN	::	627	::	 Hard, hard. O filthy traitor!
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	628	::	 Unmerciful lady as you are, I’m none.
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	629	::	 To this chair bind him. Villain, thou shalt find—
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	630	::	 By the kind gods, ’tis most ignobly done To pluck me by the beard.
klear	::	REGAN	::	631	::	 So white, and such a traitor!
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	632	::	 Naughty lady, These hairs which thou dost ravish from my chin Will quicken, and accuse thee. I am your host: With robber’s hands my hospitable favours You should not ruffle thus. What will you do?
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	633	::	 Come, sir, what letters had you late from France?
klear	::	REGAN	::	634	::	 Be simple answer’d, for we know the truth.
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	635	::	 And what confederacy have you with the traitors, Late footed in the kingdom?
klear	::	REGAN	::	636	::	 To whose hands have you sent the lunatic King? Speak.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	637	::	 I have a letter guessingly set down, Which came from one that’s of a neutral heart, And not from one oppos’d.
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	638	::	 Cunning.
klear	::	REGAN	::	639	::	 And false.
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	640	::	 Where hast thou sent the King?
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	641	::	 To Dover.
klear	::	REGAN	::	642	::	 Wherefore to Dover? Wast thou not charg’d at peril,—
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	643	::	 Wherefore to Dover? Let him first answer that.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	644	::	 I am tied to the stake, and I must stand the course.
klear	::	REGAN	::	645	::	 Wherefore to Dover, sir?
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	646	::	 Because I would not see thy cruel nails Pluck out his poor old eyes; nor thy fierce sister In his anointed flesh stick boarish fangs. The sea, with such a storm as his bare head In hell-black night endur’d, would have buoy’d up, And quench’d the stelled fires; Yet, poor old heart, he holp the heavens to rain. If wolves had at thy gate howl’d that stern time, Thou shouldst have said, ‘Good porter, turn the key.’ All cruels else subscrib’d: but I shall see The winged vengeance overtake such children.
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	647	::	 See’t shalt thou never. Fellows, hold the chair. Upon these eyes of thine I’ll set my foot.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	648	::	 He that will think to live till he be old, Give me some help!—O cruel! O you gods!
klear	::	REGAN	::	649	::	 One side will mock another; the other too!
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	650	::	 If you see vengeance—
klear	::	FIRST SERVANT	::	651	::	 Hold your hand, my lord: I have serv’d you ever since I was a child; But better service have I never done you Than now to bid you hold.
klear	::	REGAN	::	652	::	 How now, you dog!
klear	::	FIRST SERVANT	::	653	::	 If you did wear a beard upon your chin, I’d shake it on this quarrel. What do you mean?
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	654	::	 My villain?
klear	::	FIRST SERVANT	::	655	::	 Nay, then, come on, and take the chance of anger.
klear	::	REGAN	::	656	::	  Give me thy sword. A peasant stand up thus?
klear	::	FIRST SERVANT	::	657	::	 O, I am slain! My lord, you have one eye left To see some mischief on him. O!
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	658	::	 Lest it see more, prevent it. Out, vile jelly! Where is thy lustre now?
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	659	::	 All dark and comfortless. Where’s my son Edmund? Edmund, enkindle all the sparks of nature To quit this horrid act.
klear	::	REGAN	::	660	::	 Out, treacherous villain! Thou call’st on him that hates thee: it was he That made the overture of thy treasons to us; Who is too good to pity thee.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	661	::	 O my follies! Then Edgar was abus’d. Kind gods, forgive me that, and prosper him!
klear	::	REGAN	::	662	::	 Go thrust him out at gates, and let him smell His way to Dover. How is’t, my lord? How look you?
klear	::	CORNWALL	::	663	::	 I have receiv’d a hurt: follow me, lady. Turn out that eyeless villain. Throw this slave Upon the dunghill. Regan, I bleed apace: Untimely comes this hurt: give me your arm.
klear	::	SECOND SERVANT	::	664	::	 I’ll never care what wickedness I do, If this man come to good.
klear	::	THIRD SERVANT	::	665	::	 If she live long, And in the end meet the old course of death, Women will all turn monsters.
klear	::	SECOND SERVANT	::	666	::	 Let’s follow the old Earl, and get the bedlam To lead him where he would: his roguish madness Allows itself to anything.
klear	::	THIRD SERVANT	::	667	::	 Go thou: I’ll fetch some flax and whites of eggs To apply to his bleeding face. Now heaven help him!
klear	::	EDGAR	::	668	::	 Yet better thus, and known to be contemn’d, Than still contemn’d and flatter’d. To be worst, The lowest and most dejected thing of fortune, Stands still in esperance, lives not in fear: The lamentable change is from the best; The worst returns to laughter. Welcome then, Thou unsubstantial air that I embrace; The wretch that thou hast blown unto the worst Owes nothing to thy blasts.
klear	::	OLD MAN	::	669	::	 O my good lord, I have been your tenant, and your father’s tenant these fourscore years.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	670	::	 Away, get thee away; good friend, be gone. Thy comforts can do me no good at all; Thee they may hurt.
klear	::	OLD MAN	::	671	::	 You cannot see your way.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	672	::	 I have no way, and therefore want no eyes; I stumbled when I saw. Full oft ’tis seen Our means secure us, and our mere defects Prove our commodities. O dear son Edgar, The food of thy abused father’s wrath! Might I but live to see thee in my touch, I’d say I had eyes again!
klear	::	OLD MAN	::	673	::	 How now! Who’s there?
klear	::	EDGAR	::	674	::	  O gods! Who is’t can say ‘I am at the worst’? I am worse than e’er I was.
klear	::	OLD MAN	::	675	::	 ’Tis poor mad Tom.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	676	::	  And worse I may be yet. The worst is not So long as we can say ‘This is the worst.’
klear	::	OLD MAN	::	677	::	 Fellow, where goest?
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	678	::	 Is it a beggar-man?
klear	::	OLD MAN	::	679	::	 Madman, and beggar too.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	680	::	 He has some reason, else he could not beg. I’ the last night’s storm I such a fellow saw; Which made me think a man a worm. My son Came then into my mind, and yet my mind Was then scarce friends with him. I have heard more since. As flies to wanton boys are we to the gods, They kill us for their sport.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	681	::	  How should this be? Bad is the trade that must play fool to sorrow, Angering itself and others. Bless thee, master!
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	682	::	 Is that the naked fellow?
klear	::	OLD MAN	::	683	::	 Ay, my lord.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	684	::	 Then prythee get thee away. If for my sake Thou wilt o’ertake us hence a mile or twain, I’ the way toward Dover, do it for ancient love, And bring some covering for this naked soul, Which I’ll entreat to lead me.
klear	::	OLD MAN	::	685	::	 Alack, sir, he is mad.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	686	::	 ’Tis the time’s plague when madmen lead the blind. Do as I bid thee, or rather do thy pleasure; Above the rest, be gone.
klear	::	OLD MAN	::	687	::	 I’ll bring him the best ’parel that I have, Come on’t what will.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	688	::	 Sirrah naked fellow.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	689	::	 Poor Tom’s a-cold.  I cannot daub it further.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	690	::	 Come hither, fellow.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	691	::	  And yet I must. Bless thy sweet eyes, they bleed.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	692	::	 Know’st thou the way to Dover?
klear	::	EDGAR	::	693	::	 Both stile and gate, horseway and footpath. Poor Tom hath been scared out of his good wits. Bless thee, good man’s son, from the foul fiend! Five fiends have been in poor Tom at once; of lust, as Obidicut; Hobbididence, prince of darkness; Mahu, of stealing; Modo, of murder; Flibbertigibbet, of mopping and mowing, who since possesses chambermaids and waiting women. So, bless thee, master!
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	694	::	 Here, take this purse, thou whom the heaven’s plagues Have humbled to all strokes: that I am wretched Makes thee the happier. Heavens deal so still! Let the superfluous and lust-dieted man, That slaves your ordinance, that will not see Because he does not feel, feel your power quickly; So distribution should undo excess, And each man have enough. Dost thou know Dover?
klear	::	EDGAR	::	695	::	 Ay, master.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	696	::	 There is a cliff, whose high and bending head Looks fearfully in the confined deep: Bring me but to the very brim of it, And I’ll repair the misery thou dost bear With something rich about me: from that place I shall no leading need.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	697	::	 Give me thy arm: Poor Tom shall lead thee.
klear	::	GONERIL	::	698	::	 Welcome, my lord. I marvel our mild husband Not met us on the way. Now, where’s your master?
klear	::	OSWALD	::	699	::	 Madam, within; but never man so chang’d. I told him of the army that was landed; He smil’d at it: I told him you were coming; His answer was, ‘The worse.’ Of Gloucester’s treachery And of the loyal service of his son When I inform’d him, then he call’d me sot, And told me I had turn’d the wrong side out. What most he should dislike seems pleasant to him; What like, offensive.
klear	::	GONERIL	::	700	::	  Then shall you go no further. It is the cowish terror of his spirit, That dares not undertake. He’ll not feel wrongs Which tie him to an answer. Our wishes on the way May prove effects. Back, Edmund, to my brother; Hasten his musters and conduct his powers. I must change names at home, and give the distaff Into my husband’s hands. This trusty servant Shall pass between us. Ere long you are like to hear, If you dare venture in your own behalf, A mistress’s command.  Wear this; spare speech; Decline your head. This kiss, if it durst speak, Would stretch thy spirits up into the air. Conceive, and fare thee well.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	701	::	 Yours in the ranks of death.
klear	::	GONERIL	::	702	::	 My most dear Gloucester. O, the difference of man and man! To thee a woman’s services are due; My fool usurps my body.
klear	::	OSWALD	::	703	::	 Madam, here comes my lord.
klear	::	GONERIL	::	704	::	 I have been worth the whistle.
klear	::	ALBANY	::	705	::	 O Goneril! You are not worth the dust which the rude wind Blows in your face! I fear your disposition; That nature which contemns its origin Cannot be bordered certain in itself. She that herself will sliver and disbranch From her material sap, perforce must wither And come to deadly use.
klear	::	GONERIL	::	706	::	 No more; the text is foolish.
klear	::	ALBANY	::	707	::	 Wisdom and goodness to the vile seem vile; Filths savour but themselves. What have you done? Tigers, not daughters, what have you perform’d? A father, and a gracious aged man, Whose reverence even the head-lugg’d bear would lick, Most barbarous, most degenerate, have you madded. Could my good brother suffer you to do it? A man, a prince, by him so benefitted! If that the heavens do not their visible spirits Send quickly down to tame these vile offences, It will come, Humanity must perforce prey on itself, Like monsters of the deep.
klear	::	GONERIL	::	708	::	 Milk-liver’d man! That bear’st a cheek for blows, a head for wrongs; Who hast not in thy brows an eye discerning Thine honour from thy suffering; that not know’st Fools do those villains pity who are punish’d Ere they have done their mischief. Where’s thy drum? France spreads his banners in our noiseless land; With plumed helm thy state begins to threat, Whilst thou, a moral fool, sitt’st still, and criest ‘Alack, why does he so?’
klear	::	ALBANY	::	709	::	 See thyself, devil! Proper deformity seems not in the fiend So horrid as in woman.
klear	::	GONERIL	::	710	::	 O vain fool!
klear	::	ALBANY	::	711	::	 Thou changed and self-cover’d thing, for shame! Be-monster not thy feature! Were’t my fitness To let these hands obey my blood. They are apt enough to dislocate and tear Thy flesh and bones. Howe’er thou art a fiend, A woman’s shape doth shield thee.
klear	::	GONERIL	::	712	::	 Marry, your manhood, mew!
klear	::	ALBANY	::	713	::	 What news?
klear	::	MESSENGER	::	714	::	 O, my good lord, the Duke of Cornwall’s dead; Slain by his servant, going to put out The other eye of Gloucester.
klear	::	ALBANY	::	715	::	 Gloucester’s eyes!
klear	::	MESSENGER	::	716	::	 A servant that he bred, thrill’d with remorse, Oppos’d against the act, bending his sword To his great master; who, thereat enrag’d, Flew on him, and amongst them fell’d him dead; But not without that harmful stroke which since Hath pluck’d him after.
klear	::	ALBANY	::	717	::	 This shows you are above, You justicers, that these our nether crimes So speedily can venge! But, O poor Gloucester! Lost he his other eye?
klear	::	MESSENGER	::	718	::	 Both, both, my lord. This letter, madam, craves a speedy answer; ’Tis from your sister.
klear	::	GONERIL	::	719	::	  One way I like this well; But being widow, and my Gloucester with her, May all the building in my fancy pluck Upon my hateful life. Another way The news is not so tart. I’ll read, and answer.
klear	::	ALBANY	::	720	::	 Where was his son when they did take his eyes?
klear	::	MESSENGER	::	721	::	 Come with my lady hither.
klear	::	ALBANY	::	722	::	 He is not here.
klear	::	MESSENGER	::	723	::	 No, my good lord; I met him back again.
klear	::	ALBANY	::	724	::	 Knows he the wickedness?
klear	::	MESSENGER	::	725	::	 Ay, my good lord. ’Twas he inform’d against him; And quit the house on purpose, that their punishment Might have the freer course.
klear	::	ALBANY	::	726	::	 Gloucester, I live To thank thee for the love thou show’dst the King, And to revenge thine eyes. Come hither, friend, Tell me what more thou know’st.
klear	::	KENT	::	727	::	 Why the King of France is so suddenly gone back, know you no reason?
klear	::	GENTLEMAN	::	728	::	 Something he left imperfect in the state, which since his coming forth is thought of, which imports to the kingdom so much fear and danger that his personal return was most required and necessary.
klear	::	KENT	::	729	::	 Who hath he left behind him general?
klear	::	GENTLEMAN	::	730	::	 The Mareschal of France, Monsieur La Far.
klear	::	KENT	::	731	::	 Did your letters pierce the queen to any demonstration of grief?
klear	::	GENTLEMAN	::	732	::	 Ay, sir; she took them, read them in my presence; And now and then an ample tear trill’d down Her delicate cheek. It seem’d she was a queen Over her passion; who, most rebel-like, Sought to be king o’er her.
klear	::	KENT	::	733	::	 O, then it mov’d her.
klear	::	GENTLEMAN	::	734	::	 Not to a rage: patience and sorrow strove Who should express her goodliest. You have seen Sunshine and rain at once: her smiles and tears Were like a better day. Those happy smilets That play’d on her ripe lip seem’d not to know What guests were in her eyes; which parted thence As pearls from diamonds dropp’d. In brief, Sorrow would be a rarity most belov’d, If all could so become it.
klear	::	KENT	::	735	::	 Made she no verbal question?
klear	::	GENTLEMAN	::	736	::	 Faith, once or twice she heav’d the name of ‘father’ Pantingly forth, as if it press’d her heart; Cried ‘Sisters, sisters! Shame of ladies! sisters! Kent! father! sisters! What, i’ the storm? i’ the night? Let pity not be believ’d!’ There she shook The holy water from her heavenly eyes, And clamour master’d her: then away she started To deal with grief alone.
klear	::	KENT	::	737	::	 It is the stars, The stars above us govern our conditions; Else one self mate and make could not beget Such different issues. You spoke not with her since?
klear	::	GENTLEMAN	::	738	::	 No.
klear	::	KENT	::	739	::	 Was this before the King return’d?
klear	::	GENTLEMAN	::	740	::	 No, since.
klear	::	KENT	::	741	::	 Well, sir, the poor distressed Lear’s i’ the town; Who sometime, in his better tune, remembers What we are come about, and by no means Will yield to see his daughter.
klear	::	GENTLEMAN	::	742	::	 Why, good sir?
klear	::	KENT	::	743	::	 A sovereign shame so elbows him. His own unkindness, That stripp’d her from his benediction, turn’d her To foreign casualties, gave her dear rights To his dog-hearted daughters, these things sting His mind so venomously that burning shame Detains him from Cordelia.
klear	::	GENTLEMAN	::	744	::	 Alack, poor gentleman!
klear	::	KENT	::	745	::	 Of Albany’s and Cornwall’s powers you heard not?
klear	::	GENTLEMAN	::	746	::	 ’Tis so; they are afoot.
klear	::	KENT	::	747	::	 Well, sir, I’ll bring you to our master Lear And leave you to attend him. Some dear cause Will in concealment wrap me up awhile; When I am known aright, you shall not grieve Lending me this acquaintance. I pray you, go along with me.
klear	::	CORDELIA	::	748	::	 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 harlocks, hemlock, nettles, cuckoo-flowers, 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.
klear	::	PHYSICIAN	::	749	::	 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.
klear	::	CORDELIA	::	750	::	 All bless’d 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.
klear	::	MESSENGER	::	751	::	 News, madam; The British powers are marching hitherward.
klear	::	CORDELIA	::	752	::	 ’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!
klear	::	REGAN	::	753	::	 But are my brother’s powers set forth?
klear	::	OSWALD	::	754	::	 Ay, madam.
klear	::	REGAN	::	755	::	 Himself in person there?
klear	::	OSWALD	::	756	::	 Madam, with much ado. Your sister is the better soldier.
klear	::	REGAN	::	757	::	 Lord Edmund spake not with your lord at home?
klear	::	OSWALD	::	758	::	 No, madam.
klear	::	REGAN	::	759	::	 What might import my sister’s letter to him?
klear	::	OSWALD	::	760	::	 I know not, lady.
klear	::	REGAN	::	761	::	 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.
klear	::	OSWALD	::	762	::	 I must needs after him, madam, with my letter.
klear	::	REGAN	::	763	::	 Our troops set forth tomorrow; stay with us; The ways are dangerous.
klear	::	OSWALD	::	764	::	 I may not, madam: My lady charg’d my duty in this business.
klear	::	REGAN	::	765	::	 Why should she write to Edmund? Might not you Transport her purposes by word? Belike, Somethings, I know not what, I’ll love thee much. Let me unseal the letter.
klear	::	OSWALD	::	766	::	 Madam, I had rather—
klear	::	REGAN	::	767	::	 I know your lady does not love her husband; I am sure of that; and at her late being here She gave strange oeillades and most speaking looks To noble Edmund. I know you are of her bosom.
klear	::	OSWALD	::	768	::	 I, madam?
klear	::	REGAN	::	769	::	 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, fare you well. If you do chance to hear of that blind traitor, Preferment falls on him that cuts him off.
klear	::	OSWALD	::	770	::	 Would I could meet him, madam! I should show What party I do follow.
klear	::	REGAN	::	771	::	 Fare thee well.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	772	::	 When shall I come to the top of that same hill?
klear	::	EDGAR	::	773	::	 You do climb up it now. Look how we labour.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	774	::	 Methinks the ground is even.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	775	::	 Horrible steep. Hark, do you hear the sea?
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	776	::	 No, truly.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	777	::	 Why, then, your other senses grow imperfect By your eyes’ anguish.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	778	::	 So may it be indeed. Methinks thy voice is alter’d; and thou speak’st In better phrase and matter than thou didst.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	779	::	 Y’are much deceiv’d: in nothing am I chang’d But in my garments.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	780	::	 Methinks you’re better spoken.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	781	::	 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. Half way down Hangs one that gathers samphire—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 cock; her cock a buoy Almost too small for sight: the murmuring surge That on th’unnumber’d idle pebble chafes Cannot be heard so high. I’ll look no more; Lest my brain turn, and the deficient sight Topple down headlong.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	782	::	 Set me where you stand.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	783	::	 Give me your hand. You are now within a foot of th’extreme verge. For all beneath the moon would I not leap upright.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	784	::	 Let go my hand. Here, friend, ’s another purse; in it a jewel Well worth a poor man’s taking. Fairies and gods Prosper it with thee! Go thou further off; Bid me farewell, and let me hear thee going.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	785	::	 Now fare ye well, good sir.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	786	::	 With all my heart.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	787	::	  Why I do trifle thus with his despair Is done to cure it.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	788	::	 O you mighty gods! 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.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	789	::	 Gone, sir, farewell.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	790	::	 Away, and let me die.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	791	::	 Hadst thou been aught but gossamer, feathers, air, So many fathom 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 altitude Which thou hast perpendicularly fell. Thy life is a miracle. Speak yet again.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	792	::	 But have I fall’n, or no?
klear	::	EDGAR	::	793	::	 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.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	794	::	 Alack, I have no eyes. Is wretchedness depriv’d that benefit To end itself by death? ’Twas yet some comfort When misery could beguile the tyrant’s rage And frustrate his proud will.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	795	::	 Give me your arm. Up, so. How is’t? Feel you your legs? You stand.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	796	::	 Too well, too well.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	797	::	 This is above all strangeness. Upon the crown o’ the cliff what thing was that Which parted from you?
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	798	::	 A poor unfortunate beggar.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	799	::	 As I stood here below, methought his eyes Were two full moons; he had a thousand noses, Horns whelk’d and waved like the enraged sea. It was some fiend. Therefore, thou happy father, Think that the clearest gods, who make them honours Of men’s impossibilities, have preserv’d thee.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	800	::	 I do remember now: henceforth I’ll bear Affliction till it do cry out itself ‘Enough, enough,’ and die. That thing you speak of, I took it for a man; often ’twould say, ‘The fiend, the fiend’; he led me to that place.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	801	::	 Bear free and patient thoughts. But who comes here?
klear	::	LEAR	::	802	::	 No, they cannot touch me for coining. I am the King himself.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	803	::	 O thou side-piercing sight!
klear	::	LEAR	::	804	::	 Nature’s above art in that respect. There’s your press money. That fellow handles his bow like a crow-keeper: draw me a clothier’s yard. Look, look, a mouse! Peace, peace, this piece of toasted cheese will do’t. There’s my gauntlet; I’ll prove it on a giant. Bring up the brown bills. O, well flown, bird! i’ the clout, i’ the clout. Hewgh! Give the word.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	805	::	 Sweet marjoram.
klear	::	LEAR	::	806	::	 Pass.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	807	::	 I know that voice.
klear	::	LEAR	::	808	::	 Ha! Goneril with a white beard! They flattered me like a dog; and told me I had white hairs in my beard ere the black ones were there. To say ‘ay’ and ‘no’ to everything I said ‘ay’ and ‘no’ to was no good divinity. When the rain came to wet me once, and the wind to make me chatter; when the thunder would not peace at my bidding; there I found ’em, there I smelt ’em out. Go to, they are not men o’ their words: they told me I was everything; ’tis a lie, I am not ague-proof.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	809	::	 The trick of that voice I do well remember: Is’t not the King?
klear	::	LEAR	::	810	::	 Ay, every inch a king. When I do stare, see how the subject quakes. I pardon that man’s life. What was thy cause? Adultery? Thou shalt not die: die for adultery! No: The wren goes to’t, and the small gilded fly Does lecher in my sight. Let copulation thrive; For Gloucester’s bastard son was kinder to his father Than my daughters got ’tween the lawful sheets. To’t, luxury, pell-mell! for I lack soldiers. Behold yond simp’ring dame, Whose face between her forks presages snow; That minces virtue, and does shake the head To hear of pleasure’s name. The fitchew nor the soiled horse goes to’t with a more riotous appetite. Down from the waist they are centaurs, though women all above. But to the girdle do the gods inherit, beneath is all the fiend’s; there’s hell, there’s darkness, there is the sulphurous pit; burning, scalding, stench, consumption. Fie, fie, fie! pah, pah! Give me an ounce of civet, good apothecary, to sweeten my imagination. There’s money for thee.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	811	::	 O, let me kiss that hand!
klear	::	LEAR	::	812	::	 Let me wipe it first; it smells of mortality.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	813	::	 O ruin’d piece of nature, this great world Shall so wear out to naught. Dost thou know me?
klear	::	LEAR	::	814	::	 I remember thine eyes well enough. Dost thou squiny at me? No, do thy worst, blind Cupid; I’ll not love. Read thou this challenge; mark but the penning of it.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	815	::	 Were all the letters suns, I could not see one.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	816	::	 I would not take this from report, It is, and my heart breaks at it.
klear	::	LEAR	::	817	::	 Read.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	818	::	 What, with the case of eyes?
klear	::	LEAR	::	819	::	 O, ho, are you there with me? No eyes in your head, nor no money in your purse? Your eyes are in a heavy case, your purse in a light, yet you see how this world goes.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	820	::	 I see it feelingly.
klear	::	LEAR	::	821	::	 What, art mad? A man may see how the world goes with no eyes. Look with thine ears. See how yon justice rails upon yon simple thief. Hark, in thine ear: change places; and, handy-dandy, which is the justice, which is the thief? Thou hast seen a farmer’s dog bark at a beggar?
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	822	::	 Ay, sir.
klear	::	LEAR	::	823	::	 And the creature run from the cur? There thou mightst behold the great image of authority: a dog’s obeyed in office. Thou rascal beadle, hold thy bloody hand! Why dost thou lash that whore? Strip thine own back; Thou hotly lusts to use her in that kind For which thou whipp’st her. The usurer hangs the cozener. Through tatter’d clothes great vices do appear; Robes and furr’d gowns hide all. Plate sin with gold, And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks; Arm it in rags, a pygmy’s straw does pierce it. None does offend, none, I say none; I’ll able ’em; Take that of me, my friend, who have the power To seal the accuser’s lips. Get thee glass eyes, And like a scurvy politician, seem To see the things thou dost not. Now, now, now, now: Pull off my boots: harder, harder, so.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	824	::	 O, matter and impertinency mix’d! Reason in madness!
klear	::	LEAR	::	825	::	 If thou wilt weep my fortunes, take my eyes. I know thee well enough, thy name is Gloucester. Thou must be patient; we came crying hither: Thou know’st the first time that we smell the air We wawl and cry. I will preach to thee: mark.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	826	::	 Alack, alack the day!
klear	::	LEAR	::	827	::	 When we are born, we cry that we are come To this great stage of fools. This a good block: It were a delicate stratagem to shoe A troop of horse with felt. I’ll put’t in proof And when I have stol’n upon these son-in-laws, Then kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill!
klear	::	GENTLEMAN	::	828	::	 O, here he is: lay hand upon him. Sir, Your most dear daughter—
klear	::	LEAR	::	829	::	 No rescue? What, a prisoner? I am even The natural fool of fortune. Use me well; You shall have ransom. Let me have surgeons; I am cut to the brains.
klear	::	GENTLEMAN	::	830	::	 You shall have anything.
klear	::	LEAR	::	831	::	 No seconds? All myself? Why, this would make a man a man of salt, To use his eyes for garden water-pots, Ay, and for laying autumn’s dust.
klear	::	GENTLEMAN	::	832	::	 Good sir.
klear	::	LEAR	::	833	::	 I will die bravely, like a smug bridegroom. What! I will be jovial. Come, come, I am a king, my masters, know you that.
klear	::	GENTLEMAN	::	834	::	 You are a royal one, and we obey you.
klear	::	LEAR	::	835	::	 Then there’s life in’t. Come, and you get it, You shall get it by running. Sa, sa, sa, sa!
klear	::	GENTLEMAN	::	836	::	 A sight most pitiful in the meanest wretch, Past speaking of in a king! Thou hast one daughter Who redeems nature from the general curse Which twain have brought her to.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	837	::	 Hail, gentle sir.
klear	::	GENTLEMAN	::	838	::	 Sir, speed you. What’s your will?
klear	::	EDGAR	::	839	::	 Do you hear aught, sir, of a battle toward?
klear	::	GENTLEMAN	::	840	::	 Most sure and vulgar. Everyone hears that, which can distinguish sound.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	841	::	 But, by your favour, How near’s the other army?
klear	::	GENTLEMAN	::	842	::	 Near and on speedy foot; the main descry Stands on the hourly thought.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	843	::	 I thank you sir, that’s all.
klear	::	GENTLEMAN	::	844	::	 Though that the queen on special cause is here, Her army is mov’d on.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	845	::	 I thank you, sir.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	846	::	 You ever-gentle gods, take my breath from me; Let not my worser spirit tempt me again To die before you please.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	847	::	 Well pray you, father.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	848	::	 Now, good sir, what are you?
klear	::	EDGAR	::	849	::	 A most poor man, made tame to fortune’s blows; Who, by the art of known and feeling sorrows, Am pregnant to good pity. Give me your hand, I’ll lead you to some biding.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	850	::	 Hearty thanks: The bounty and the benison of heaven To boot, and boot.
klear	::	OSWALD	::	851	::	 A proclaim’d prize! Most happy! That eyeless head of thine was first fram’d flesh To raise my fortunes. Thou old unhappy traitor, Briefly thyself remember. The sword is out That must destroy thee.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	852	::	 Now let thy friendly hand Put strength enough to’t.
klear	::	OSWALD	::	853	::	 Wherefore, bold peasant, Dar’st thou support a publish’d traitor? Hence; Lest that th’infection of his fortune take Like hold on thee. Let go his arm.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	854	::	 Chill not let go, zir, without vurther ’casion.
klear	::	OSWALD	::	855	::	 Let go, slave, or thou diest!
klear	::	EDGAR	::	856	::	 Good gentleman, go your gait, and let poor volke pass. An chud ha’ bin zwaggered out of my life, ’twould not ha’ bin zo long as ’tis by a vortnight. Nay, come not near th’old man; keep out, che vor ye, or ise try whether your costard or my ballow be the harder: chill be plain with you.
klear	::	OSWALD	::	857	::	 Out, dunghill!
klear	::	EDGAR	::	858	::	 Chill pick your teeth, zir. Come! No matter vor your foins.
klear	::	OSWALD	::	859	::	 Slave, thou hast slain me. Villain, take my purse. If ever thou wilt thrive, bury my body; And give the letters which thou find’st about me To Edmund, Earl of Gloucester. Seek him out Upon the British party. O, untimely death!
klear	::	EDGAR	::	860	::	 I know thee well. A serviceable villain, As duteous to the vices of thy mistress As badness would desire.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	861	::	 What, is he dead?
klear	::	EDGAR	::	862	::	 Sit you down, father; rest you. Let’s see these pockets; the letters that he speaks of May be my friends. He’s dead; I am only sorry He had no other deathsman. Let us see: Leave, gentle wax; and, manners, blame us not. To know our enemies’ minds, we rip their hearts, Their papers is more lawful.  ‘Let our reciprocal vows be remembered. You have many opportunities to cut him off: if your will want not, time and place will be fruitfully offered. There is nothing done if he return the conqueror: then am I the prisoner, and his bed my gaol; from the loathed warmth whereof deliver me, and supply the place for your labour. ‘Your (wife, so I would say) affectionate servant, ‘Goneril.’ O indistinguish’d space of woman’s will! A plot upon her virtuous husband’s life, And the exchange my brother! Here in the sands Thee I’ll rake up, the post unsanctified Of murderous lechers: and in the mature time, With this ungracious paper strike the sight Of the death-practis’d Duke: for him ’tis well That of thy death and business I can tell.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	863	::	 The King is mad: how stiff is my vile sense, That I stand up, and have ingenious feeling Of my huge sorrows! Better I were distract: So should my thoughts be sever’d from my griefs, And woes by wrong imaginations lose The knowledge of themselves.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	864	::	 Give me your hand. Far off methinks I hear the beaten drum. Come, father, I’ll bestow you with a friend.
klear	::	CORDELIA	::	865	::	 O thou good Kent, how shall I live and work To match thy goodness? My life will be too short, And every measure fail me.
klear	::	KENT	::	866	::	 To be acknowledg’d, madam, is o’erpaid. All my reports go with the modest truth; Nor more, nor clipp’d, but so.
klear	::	CORDELIA	::	867	::	 Be better suited, These weeds are memories of those worser hours: I prythee put them off.
klear	::	KENT	::	868	::	 Pardon, dear madam; Yet to be known shortens my made intent. My boon I make it that you know me not Till time and I think meet.
klear	::	CORDELIA	::	869	::	 Then be’t so, my good lord.  How, does the King?
klear	::	PHYSICIAN	::	870	::	 Madam, sleeps still.
klear	::	CORDELIA	::	871	::	 O you kind gods, Cure this great breach in his abused nature! The untun’d and jarring senses, O, wind up Of this child-changed father.
klear	::	PHYSICIAN	::	872	::	 So please your majesty That we may wake the King: he hath slept long.
klear	::	CORDELIA	::	873	::	 Be govern’d by your knowledge, and proceed I’ the sway of your own will. Is he array’d?
klear	::	PHYSICIAN	::	874	::	 Ay, madam. In the heaviness of sleep We put fresh garments on him. Be by, good madam, when we do awake him; I doubt not of his temperance.
klear	::	CORDELIA	::	875	::	 Very well.
klear	::	PHYSICIAN	::	876	::	 Please you draw near. Louder the music there!
klear	::	CORDELIA	::	877	::	 O my dear father! Restoration hang Thy medicine on my lips; and let this kiss Repair those violent harms that my two sisters Have in thy reverence made!
klear	::	KENT	::	878	::	 Kind and dear princess!
klear	::	CORDELIA	::	879	::	 Had you not been their father, these white flakes Did challenge pity of them. Was this a face To be oppos’d 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.
klear	::	PHYSICIAN	::	880	::	 Madam, do you; ’tis fittest.
klear	::	CORDELIA	::	881	::	 How does my royal lord? How fares your majesty?
klear	::	LEAR	::	882	::	 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.
klear	::	CORDELIA	::	883	::	 Sir, do you know me?
klear	::	LEAR	::	884	::	 You are a spirit, I know: when did you die?
klear	::	CORDELIA	::	885	::	 Still, still, far wide!
klear	::	PHYSICIAN	::	886	::	 He’s scarce awake: let him alone awhile.
klear	::	LEAR	::	887	::	 Where have I been? Where am I? Fair daylight? I am mightily abus’d. I should e’en 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 assur’d Of my condition!
klear	::	CORDELIA	::	888	::	 O, look upon me, sir, And hold your hands in benediction o’er me. No, sir, you must not kneel.
klear	::	LEAR	::	889	::	 Pray, do not mock me: I am a very foolish fond old man, Fourscore and upward, not an hour more nor less; 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 Remembers not these garments; nor I know not 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.
klear	::	CORDELIA	::	890	::	 And so I am. I am.
klear	::	LEAR	::	891	::	 Be your tears wet? Yes, faith. I pray weep not: If you have poison for me, I will drink it. 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.
klear	::	CORDELIA	::	892	::	 No cause, no cause.
klear	::	LEAR	::	893	::	 Am I in France?
klear	::	KENT	::	894	::	 In your own kingdom, sir.
klear	::	LEAR	::	895	::	 Do not abuse me.
klear	::	PHYSICIAN	::	896	::	 Be comforted, good madam, the great rage, You see, is kill’d in him: and yet it is danger To make him even o’er the time he has lost. Desire him to go in; trouble him no more Till further settling.
klear	::	CORDELIA	::	897	::	 Will’t please your highness walk?
klear	::	LEAR	::	898	::	 You must bear with me: Pray you now, forget and forgive: I am old and foolish.
klear	::	GENTLEMAN	::	899	::	 Holds it true, sir, that the Duke of Cornwall was so slain?
klear	::	KENT	::	900	::	 Most certain, sir.
klear	::	GENTLEMAN	::	901	::	 Who is conductor of his people?
klear	::	KENT	::	902	::	 As ’tis said, the bastard son of Gloucester.
klear	::	GENTLEMAN	::	903	::	 They say Edgar, his banished son, is with the Earl of Kent in Germany.
klear	::	KENT	::	904	::	 Report is changeable. ’Tis time to look about; the powers of the kingdom approach apace.
klear	::	GENTLEMAN	::	905	::	 The arbitrement is like to be bloody. Fare you well, sir.
klear	::	KENT	::	906	::	 My point and period will be throughly wrought, Or well or ill, as this day’s battle’s fought.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	907	::	 Know of the Duke if his last purpose hold, Or whether since he is advis’d by aught To change the course, he’s full of alteration And self-reproving, bring his constant pleasure.
klear	::	REGAN	::	908	::	 Our sister’s man is certainly miscarried.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	909	::	 ’Tis to be doubted, madam.
klear	::	REGAN	::	910	::	 Now, sweet lord, You know the goodness I intend upon you: Tell me but truly, but then speak the truth, Do you not love my sister?
klear	::	EDMUND	::	911	::	 In honour’d love.
klear	::	REGAN	::	912	::	 But have you never found my brother’s way To the forfended place?
klear	::	EDMUND	::	913	::	 That thought abuses you.
klear	::	REGAN	::	914	::	 I am doubtful that you have been conjunct And bosom’d with her, as far as we call hers.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	915	::	 No, by mine honour, madam.
klear	::	REGAN	::	916	::	 I never shall endure her, dear my lord, Be not familiar with her.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	917	::	 Fear not, She and the Duke her husband!
klear	::	GONERIL	::	918	::	  I had rather lose the battle than that sister Should loosen him and me.
klear	::	ALBANY	::	919	::	 Our very loving sister, well be-met. Sir, this I heard: the King is come to his daughter, With others whom the rigour of our state Forc’d to cry out. Where I could not be honest, I never yet was valiant. For this business, It toucheth us as France invades our land, Not bolds the King, with others whom I fear Most just and heavy causes make oppose.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	920	::	 Sir, you speak nobly.
klear	::	REGAN	::	921	::	 Why is this reason’d?
klear	::	GONERIL	::	922	::	 Combine together ’gainst the enemy; For these domestic and particular broils Are not the question here.
klear	::	ALBANY	::	923	::	 Let’s, then, determine with the ancient of war On our proceeding.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	924	::	 I shall attend you presently at your tent.
klear	::	REGAN	::	925	::	 Sister, you’ll go with us?
klear	::	GONERIL	::	926	::	 No.
klear	::	REGAN	::	927	::	 ’Tis most convenient; pray you, go with us.
klear	::	GONERIL	::	928	::	 [_Aside_.] O, ho, I know the riddle. I will go.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	929	::	 If e’er your grace had speech with man so poor, Hear me one word.
klear	::	ALBANY	::	930	::	 I’ll overtake you. Speak.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	931	::	 Before you fight the battle, ope this letter. If you have victory, let the trumpet sound For him that brought it: wretched though I seem, I can produce a champion that will prove What is avouched there. If you miscarry, Your business of the world hath so an end, And machination ceases. Fortune love you!
klear	::	ALBANY	::	932	::	 Stay till I have read the letter.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	933	::	 I was forbid it. When time shall serve, let but the herald cry, And I’ll appear again.
klear	::	ALBANY	::	934	::	 Why, fare thee well. I will o’erlook thy paper.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	935	::	 The enemy’s in view; draw up your powers. Here is the guess of their true strength and forces By diligent discovery; but your haste Is now urg’d on you.
klear	::	ALBANY	::	936	::	 We will greet the time.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	937	::	 To both these sisters have I sworn my love; Each jealous of the other, as the stung Are of the adder. Which of them shall I take? Both? One? Or neither? Neither can be enjoy’d, If both remain alive. To take the widow Exasperates, makes mad her sister Goneril; And hardly shall I carry out my side, Her husband being alive. Now, then, we’ll use His countenance for the battle; which being done, Let her who would be rid of him devise His speedy taking off. As for the mercy Which he intends to Lear and to Cordelia, The battle done, and they within our power, Shall never see his pardon: for my state Stands on me to defend, not to debate.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	938	::	 Here, father, take the shadow of this tree For your good host; pray that the right may thrive: If ever I return to you again, I’ll bring you comfort.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	939	::	 Grace go with you, sir!
klear	::	EDGAR	::	940	::	 Away, old man, give me thy hand, away! King Lear hath lost, he and his daughter ta’en: Give me thy hand; come on!
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	941	::	 No further, sir; a man may rot even here.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	942	::	 What, in ill thoughts again? Men must endure Their going hence, even as their coming hither; Ripeness is all. Come on.
klear	::	GLOUCESTER	::	943	::	 And that’s true too.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	944	::	 Some officers take them away: good guard Until their greater pleasures first be known That are to censure them.
klear	::	CORDELIA	::	945	::	 We are not the first Who with best meaning have incurr’d the worst. For thee, oppressed King, I am cast down; Myself could else out-frown false fortune’s frown. Shall we not see these daughters and these sisters?
klear	::	LEAR	::	946	::	 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.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	947	::	 Take them away.
klear	::	LEAR	::	948	::	 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.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	949	::	 Come hither, captain, hark. Take thou this note ; go follow them to prison. One step I have advanc’d 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.
klear	::	CAPTAIN	::	950	::	 I’ll do’t, my lord.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	951	::	 About it; and write happy when thou hast done. Mark, I say, instantly; and carry it so As I have set it down.
klear	::	CAPTAIN	::	952	::	 I cannot draw a cart, nor eat dried oats; If it be man’s work, I’ll do’t.
klear	::	ALBANY	::	953	::	 Sir, you have show’d today your valiant strain, And fortune led you well: you have the captives Who were the opposites of this day’s strife: I do require them of you, so to use them As we shall find their merits and our safety May equally determine.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	954	::	 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, And 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 Tomorrow, 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 curs’d By those that feel their sharpness. The question of Cordelia and her father Requires a fitter place.
klear	::	ALBANY	::	955	::	 Sir, by your patience, I hold you but a subject of this war, Not as a brother.
klear	::	REGAN	::	956	::	 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.
klear	::	GONERIL	::	957	::	 Not so hot: In his own grace he doth exalt himself, More than in your addition.
klear	::	REGAN	::	958	::	 In my rights, By me invested, he compeers the best.
klear	::	ALBANY	::	959	::	 That were the most, if he should husband you.
klear	::	REGAN	::	960	::	 Jesters do oft prove prophets.
klear	::	GONERIL	::	961	::	 Holla, holla! That eye that told you so look’d but asquint.
klear	::	REGAN	::	962	::	 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.
klear	::	GONERIL	::	963	::	 Mean you to enjoy him?
klear	::	ALBANY	::	964	::	 The let-alone lies not in your good will.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	965	::	 Nor in thine, lord.
klear	::	ALBANY	::	966	::	 Half-blooded fellow, yes.
klear	::	REGAN	::	967	::	  Let the drum strike, and prove my title thine.
klear	::	ALBANY	::	968	::	 Stay yet; hear reason: Edmund, I arrest thee On capital treason; and, in thine arrest, This gilded serpent.  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.
klear	::	GONERIL	::	969	::	 An interlude!
klear	::	ALBANY	::	970	::	 Thou art arm’d, Gloucester. Let the trumpet sound: If none appear to prove upon thy person Thy heinous, manifest, and many treasons, There is my pledge.  I’ll make it on thy heart, Ere I taste bread, thou art in nothing less Than I have here proclaim’d thee.
klear	::	REGAN	::	971	::	 Sick, O, sick!
klear	::	GONERIL	::	972	::	  If not, I’ll ne’er trust medicine.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	973	::	 There’s my exchange.  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.
klear	::	ALBANY	::	974	::	 A herald, ho!
klear	::	REGAN	::	975	::	 My sickness grows upon me.
klear	::	ALBANY	::	976	::	 She is not well. Convey her to my tent.
klear	::	OFFICER	::	977	::	 Sound, trumpet!
klear	::	HERALD	::	978	::	  ‘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.’
klear	::	EDMUND	::	979	::	 Sound!
klear	::	HERALD	::	980	::	 Again!
klear	::	HERALD	::	981	::	 Again!
klear	::	ALBANY	::	982	::	 Ask him his purposes, why he appears Upon this call o’ the trumpet.
klear	::	HERALD	::	983	::	 What are you? Your name, your quality? and why you answer This present summons?
klear	::	EDGAR	::	984	::	 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.
klear	::	ALBANY	::	985	::	 Which is that adversary?
klear	::	EDGAR	::	986	::	 What’s he that speaks for Edmund, Earl of Gloucester?
klear	::	EDMUND	::	987	::	 Himself, what say’st thou to him?
klear	::	EDGAR	::	988	::	 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 beneath 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.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	989	::	 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 those 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!
klear	::	ALBANY	::	990	::	 Save him, save him!
klear	::	GONERIL	::	991	::	 This is mere practice, Gloucester: By the law of arms thou wast not bound to answer An unknown opposite; thou art not vanquish’d, But cozen’d and beguil’d.
klear	::	ALBANY	::	992	::	 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.
klear	::	GONERIL	::	993	::	 Say if I do, the laws are mine, not thine: Who can arraign me for’t?
klear	::	ALBANY	::	994	::	 Most monstrous! O! Know’st thou this paper?
klear	::	EDMUND	::	995	::	 Ask me not what I know.
klear	::	ALBANY	::	996	::	  Go after her; she’s desperate; govern her.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	997	::	 What you have charg’d 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.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	998	::	 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.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	999	::	 Thou hast spoken right, ’tis true; The wheel is come full circle; I am here.
klear	::	ALBANY	::	1000	::	 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.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	1001	::	 Worthy prince, I know’t.
klear	::	ALBANY	::	1002	::	 Where have you hid yourself? How have you known the miseries of your father?
klear	::	EDGAR	::	1003	::	 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 with the pain of death we’d hourly die Rather than die at once!—taught me to shift Into a madman’s rags; t’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, sav’d 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.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	1004	::	 This speech of yours hath mov’d me, And shall perchance do good, but speak you on; You look as you had something more to say.
klear	::	ALBANY	::	1005	::	 If there be more, more woeful, hold it in; For I am almost ready to dissolve, Hearing of this.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	1006	::	 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 a man Who, having seen me in my worst estate, Shunn’d my abhorr’d society; but then finding Who ’twas that so endur’d, with his strong arms He fastened on my neck, and bellow’d out As he’d burst heaven; threw him on my father; Told the most piteous tale of Lear and him That ever ear receiv’d, 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 tranc’d.
klear	::	ALBANY	::	1007	::	 But who was this?
klear	::	EDGAR	::	1008	::	 Kent, sir, the banish’d Kent; who in disguise Follow’d his enemy king and did him service Improper for a slave.
klear	::	GENTLEMAN	::	1009	::	 Help, help! O, help!
klear	::	EDGAR	::	1010	::	 What kind of help?
klear	::	ALBANY	::	1011	::	 Speak, man.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	1012	::	 What means this bloody knife?
klear	::	GENTLEMAN	::	1013	::	 ’Tis hot, it smokes; It came even from the heart of—O! she’s dead!
klear	::	ALBANY	::	1014	::	 Who dead? Speak, man.
klear	::	GENTLEMAN	::	1015	::	 Your lady, sir, your lady; and her sister By her is poisoned; she hath confesses it.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	1016	::	 I was contracted to them both, all three Now marry in an instant.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	1017	::	 Here comes Kent.
klear	::	ALBANY	::	1018	::	 Produce their bodies, be they alive or dead. This judgement of the heavens that makes us tremble Touches us not with pity. O, is this he? The time will not allow the compliment Which very manners urges.
klear	::	KENT	::	1019	::	 I am come To bid my King and master aye good night: Is he not here?
klear	::	ALBANY	::	1020	::	 Great thing of us forgot! Speak, Edmund, where’s the King? and where’s Cordelia?
klear	::	KENT	::	1021	::	 Alack, why thus?
klear	::	EDMUND	::	1022	::	 Yet Edmund was belov’d. The one the other poisoned for my sake, And after slew herself.
klear	::	ALBANY	::	1023	::	 Even so. Cover their faces.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	1024	::	 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.
klear	::	ALBANY	::	1025	::	 Run, run, O, run!
klear	::	EDGAR	::	1026	::	 To who, my lord? Who has the office? Send Thy token of reprieve.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	1027	::	 Well thought on: take my sword, Give it the captain.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	1028	::	 Haste thee for thy life.
klear	::	EDMUND	::	1029	::	 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.
klear	::	ALBANY	::	1030	::	 The gods defend her! Bear him hence awhile.
klear	::	LEAR	::	1031	::	 Howl, howl, howl, howl! O, you are men of stone. 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.
klear	::	KENT	::	1032	::	 Is this the promis’d end?
klear	::	EDGAR	::	1033	::	 Or image of that horror?
klear	::	ALBANY	::	1034	::	 Fall, and cease!
klear	::	LEAR	::	1035	::	 This feather stirs; she lives! If it be so, It is a chance which does redeem all sorrows That ever I have felt.
klear	::	KENT	::	1036	::	 O, my good master! 
klear	::	LEAR	::	1037	::	 Prythee, away!
klear	::	EDGAR	::	1038	::	 ’Tis noble Kent, your friend.
klear	::	LEAR	::	1039	::	 A plague upon you, murderers, traitors all! I might have sav’d 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.
klear	::	OFFICER	::	1040	::	 ’Tis true, my lords, he did.
klear	::	LEAR	::	1041	::	 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.
klear	::	KENT	::	1042	::	 If Fortune brag of two she lov’d and hated, One of them we behold.
klear	::	LEAR	::	1043	::	 This is a dull sight. Are you not Kent?
klear	::	KENT	::	1044	::	 The same, Your servant Kent. Where is your servant Caius?
klear	::	LEAR	::	1045	::	 He’s a good fellow, I can tell you that; He’ll strike, and quickly too:. He’s dead and rotten.
klear	::	KENT	::	1046	::	 No, my good lord; I am the very man.
klear	::	LEAR	::	1047	::	 I’ll see that straight.
klear	::	KENT	::	1048	::	 That from your first of difference and decay Have follow’d your sad steps.
klear	::	LEAR	::	1049	::	 You are welcome hither.
klear	::	KENT	::	1050	::	 Nor no man else. All’s cheerless, dark and deadly. Your eldest daughters have fordone themselves, And desperately are dead.
klear	::	LEAR	::	1051	::	 Ay, so I think.
klear	::	ALBANY	::	1052	::	 He knows not what he says; and vain is it That we present us to him.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	1053	::	 Very bootless.
klear	::	OFFICER	::	1054	::	 Edmund is dead, my lord.
klear	::	ALBANY	::	1055	::	 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; 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!
klear	::	LEAR	::	1056	::	 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!
klear	::	EDGAR	::	1057	::	 He faints! My lord, my lord!
klear	::	KENT	::	1058	::	 Break, heart; I prythee break!
klear	::	EDGAR	::	1059	::	 Look up, my lord.
klear	::	KENT	::	1060	::	 Vex not his ghost: O, let him pass! He hates him That would upon the rack of this rough world Stretch him out longer.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	1061	::	 He is gone indeed.
klear	::	KENT	::	1062	::	 The wonder is, he hath endur’d so long: He but usurp’d his life.
klear	::	ALBANY	::	1063	::	 Bear them from hence. Our present business Is general woe.  Friends of my soul, you twain, Rule in this realm and the gor’d state sustain.
klear	::	KENT	::	1064	::	 I have a journey, sir, shortly to go; My master calls me, I must not say no.
klear	::	EDGAR	::	1065	::	 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.
macbe	::	FIRST WITCH	::	1	::	 When shall we three meet again? In thunder, lightning, or in rain?
macbe	::	SECOND WITCH	::	2	::	 When the hurlyburly’s done, When the battle’s lost and won.
macbe	::	THIRD WITCH	::	3	::	 That will be ere the set of sun.
macbe	::	FIRST WITCH	::	4	::	 Where the place?
macbe	::	SECOND WITCH	::	5	::	 Upon the heath.
macbe	::	THIRD WITCH	::	6	::	 There to meet with Macbeth.
macbe	::	FIRST WITCH	::	7	::	 I come, Graymalkin!
macbe	::	SECOND WITCH	::	8	::	 Paddock calls.
macbe	::	THIRD WITCH	::	9	::	 Anon.
macbe	::	ALL	::	10	::	 Fair is foul, and foul is fair: Hover through the fog and filthy air.
macbe	::	DUNCAN	::	11	::	 What bloody man is that? He can report, As seemeth by his plight, of the revolt The newest state.
macbe	::	MALCOLM	::	12	::	 This is the sergeant Who, like a good and hardy soldier, fought ’Gainst my captivity.—Hail, brave friend! Say to the King the knowledge of the broil As thou didst leave it.
macbe	::	SOLDIER	::	13	::	 Doubtful it stood; As two spent swimmers that do cling together And choke their art. The merciless Macdonwald (Worthy to be a rebel, for to that The multiplying villainies of nature Do swarm upon him) from the Western Isles Of kerns and gallowglasses is supplied; And Fortune, on his damned quarrel smiling, Show’d like a rebel’s whore. But all’s too weak; For brave Macbeth (well he deserves that name), Disdaining Fortune, with his brandish’d steel, Which smok’d with bloody execution, Like Valour’s minion, carv’d out his passage, Till he fac’d the slave; Which ne’er shook hands, nor bade farewell to him, Till he unseam’d him from the nave to the chops, And fix’d his head upon our battlements.
macbe	::	DUNCAN	::	14	::	 O valiant cousin! worthy gentleman!
macbe	::	SOLDIER	::	15	::	 As whence the sun ’gins his reflection Shipwracking storms and direful thunders break, So from that spring, whence comfort seem’d to come Discomfort swells. Mark, King of Scotland, mark: No sooner justice had, with valour arm’d, Compell’d these skipping kerns to trust their heels, But the Norweyan lord, surveying vantage, With furbish’d arms and new supplies of men, Began a fresh assault.
macbe	::	DUNCAN	::	16	::	 Dismay’d not this Our captains, Macbeth and Banquo?
macbe	::	SOLDIER	::	17	::	 Yes; As sparrows eagles, or the hare the lion. If I say sooth, I must report they were As cannons overcharg’d with double cracks; So they Doubly redoubled strokes upon the foe: Except they meant to bathe in reeking wounds, Or memorize another Golgotha, I cannot tell— But I am faint, my gashes cry for help.
macbe	::	DUNCAN	::	18	::	 So well thy words become thee as thy wounds: They smack of honour both.—Go, get him surgeons.
macbe	::	MALCOLM	::	19	::	 The worthy Thane of Ross.
macbe	::	LENNOX	::	20	::	 What a haste looks through his eyes! So should he look That seems to speak things strange.
macbe	::	ROSS	::	21	::	 God save the King!
macbe	::	DUNCAN	::	22	::	 Whence cam’st thou, worthy thane?
macbe	::	ROSS	::	23	::	 From Fife, great King, Where the Norweyan banners flout the sky And fan our people cold. Norway himself, with terrible numbers, Assisted by that most disloyal traitor, The Thane of Cawdor, began a dismal conflict; Till that Bellona’s bridegroom, lapp’d in proof, Confronted him with self-comparisons, Point against point, rebellious arm ’gainst arm, Curbing his lavish spirit: and, to conclude, The victory fell on us.
macbe	::	DUNCAN	::	24	::	 Great happiness!
macbe	::	ROSS	::	25	::	 That now Sweno, the Norways’ king, craves composition; Nor would we deign him burial of his men Till he disbursed at Saint Colme’s Inch Ten thousand dollars to our general use.
macbe	::	DUNCAN	::	26	::	 No more that Thane of Cawdor shall deceive Our bosom interest. Go pronounce his present death, And with his former title greet Macbeth.
macbe	::	ROSS	::	27	::	 I’ll see it done.
macbe	::	DUNCAN	::	28	::	 What he hath lost, noble Macbeth hath won.
macbe	::	FIRST WITCH	::	29	::	 Where hast thou been, sister?
macbe	::	SECOND WITCH	::	30	::	 Killing swine.
macbe	::	THIRD WITCH	::	31	::	 Sister, where thou?
macbe	::	FIRST WITCH	::	32	::	 A sailor’s wife had chestnuts in her lap, And mounch’d, and mounch’d, and mounch’d. “Give me,” quoth I. “Aroint thee, witch!” the rump-fed ronyon cries. Her husband’s to Aleppo gone, master o’ th’ _Tiger:_ But in a sieve I’ll thither sail, And, like a rat without a tail, I’ll do, I’ll do, and I’ll do.
macbe	::	SECOND WITCH	::	33	::	 I’ll give thee a wind.
macbe	::	FIRST WITCH	::	34	::	 Th’art kind.
macbe	::	THIRD WITCH	::	35	::	 And I another.
macbe	::	FIRST WITCH	::	36	::	 I myself have all the other, And the very ports they blow, All the quarters that they know I’ the shipman’s card. I will drain him dry as hay: Sleep shall neither night nor day Hang upon his pent-house lid; He shall live a man forbid. Weary sev’n-nights nine times nine, Shall he dwindle, peak, and pine: Though his bark cannot be lost, Yet it shall be tempest-tost. Look what I have.
macbe	::	SECOND WITCH	::	37	::	 Show me, show me.
macbe	::	FIRST WITCH	::	38	::	 Here I have a pilot’s thumb, Wrack’d as homeward he did come.
macbe	::	THIRD WITCH	::	39	::	 A drum, a drum! Macbeth doth come.
macbe	::	ALL	::	40	::	 The Weird Sisters, hand in hand, Posters of the sea and land, Thus do go about, about: Thrice to thine, and thrice to mine, And thrice again, to make up nine. Peace!—the charm’s wound up.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	41	::	 So foul and fair a day I have not seen.
macbe	::	BANQUO	::	42	::	 How far is’t call’d to Forres?—What are these, So wither’d, and so wild in their attire, That look not like the inhabitants o’ th’ earth, And yet are on’t?—Live you? or are you aught That man may question? You seem to understand me, By each at once her choppy finger laying Upon her skinny lips. You should be women, And yet your beards forbid me to interpret That you are so.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	43	::	 Speak, if you can;—what are you?
macbe	::	FIRST WITCH	::	44	::	 All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, Thane of Glamis!
macbe	::	SECOND WITCH	::	45	::	 All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, Thane of Cawdor!
macbe	::	THIRD WITCH	::	46	::	 All hail, Macbeth! that shalt be king hereafter!
macbe	::	BANQUO	::	47	::	 Good sir, why do you start and seem to fear Things that do sound so fair?—I’ th’ name of truth, Are ye fantastical, or that indeed Which outwardly ye show? My noble partner You greet with present grace and great prediction Of noble having and of royal hope, That he seems rapt withal. To me you speak not. If you can look into the seeds of time, And say which grain will grow, and which will not, Speak then to me, who neither beg nor fear Your favours nor your hate.
macbe	::	FIRST WITCH	::	48	::	 Hail!
macbe	::	SECOND WITCH	::	49	::	 Hail!
macbe	::	THIRD WITCH	::	50	::	 Hail!
macbe	::	FIRST WITCH	::	51	::	 Lesser than Macbeth, and greater.
macbe	::	SECOND WITCH	::	52	::	 Not so happy, yet much happier.
macbe	::	THIRD WITCH	::	53	::	 Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none: So all hail, Macbeth and Banquo!
macbe	::	FIRST WITCH	::	54	::	 Banquo and Macbeth, all hail!
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	55	::	 Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me more. By Sinel’s death I know I am Thane of Glamis; But how of Cawdor? The Thane of Cawdor lives, A prosperous gentleman; and to be king Stands not within the prospect of belief, No more than to be Cawdor. Say from whence You owe this strange intelligence? or why Upon this blasted heath you stop our way With such prophetic greeting?—Speak, I charge you.
macbe	::	BANQUO	::	56	::	 The earth hath bubbles, as the water has, And these are of them. Whither are they vanish’d?
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	57	::	 Into the air; and what seem’d corporal, Melted as breath into the wind. Would they had stay’d!
macbe	::	BANQUO	::	58	::	 Were such things here as we do speak about? Or have we eaten on the insane root That takes the reason prisoner?
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	59	::	 Your children shall be kings.
macbe	::	BANQUO	::	60	::	 You shall be king.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	61	::	 And Thane of Cawdor too; went it not so?
macbe	::	BANQUO	::	62	::	 To the selfsame tune and words. Who’s here?
macbe	::	ROSS	::	63	::	 The King hath happily receiv’d, Macbeth, The news of thy success, and when he reads Thy personal venture in the rebels’ fight, His wonders and his praises do contend Which should be thine or his: silenc’d with that, In viewing o’er the rest o’ th’ selfsame day, He finds thee in the stout Norweyan ranks, Nothing afeard of what thyself didst make, Strange images of death. As thick as tale Came post with post; and everyone did bear Thy praises in his kingdom’s great defence, And pour’d them down before him.
macbe	::	ANGUS	::	64	::	 We are sent To give thee from our royal master thanks; Only to herald thee into his sight, Not pay thee.
macbe	::	ROSS	::	65	::	 And, for an earnest of a greater honour, He bade me, from him, call thee Thane of Cawdor: In which addition, hail, most worthy thane, For it is thine.
macbe	::	BANQUO	::	66	::	 What, can the devil speak true?
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	67	::	 The Thane of Cawdor lives: why do you dress me In borrow’d robes?
macbe	::	ANGUS	::	68	::	 Who was the Thane lives yet, But under heavy judgement bears that life Which he deserves to lose. Whether he was combin’d With those of Norway, or did line the rebel With hidden help and vantage, or that with both He labour’d in his country’s wrack, I know not; But treasons capital, confess’d and prov’d, Have overthrown him.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	69	::	  Glamis, and Thane of Cawdor: The greatest is behind.  Thanks for your pains.  Do you not hope your children shall be kings, When those that gave the Thane of Cawdor to me Promis’d no less to them?
macbe	::	BANQUO	::	70	::	 That, trusted home, Might yet enkindle you unto the crown, Besides the Thane of Cawdor. But ’tis strange: And oftentimes to win us to our harm, The instruments of darkness tell us truths; Win us with honest trifles, to betray’s In deepest consequence.— Cousins, a word, I pray you.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	71	::	  Two truths are told, As happy prologues to the swelling act Of the imperial theme.—I thank you, gentlemen.—  This supernatural soliciting Cannot be ill; cannot be good. If ill, Why hath it given me earnest of success, Commencing in a truth? I am Thane of Cawdor: If good, why do I yield to that suggestion Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair, And make my seated heart knock at my ribs, Against the use of nature? Present fears Are less than horrible imaginings. My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical, Shakes so my single state of man That function is smother’d in surmise, And nothing is but what is not.
macbe	::	BANQUO	::	72	::	 Look, how our partner’s rapt.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	73	::	  If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me Without my stir.
macbe	::	BANQUO	::	74	::	 New honours come upon him, Like our strange garments, cleave not to their mould But with the aid of use.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	75	::	  Come what come may, Time and the hour runs through the roughest day.
macbe	::	BANQUO	::	76	::	 Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your leisure.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	77	::	 Give me your favour. My dull brain was wrought With things forgotten. Kind gentlemen, your pains Are register’d where every day I turn The leaf to read them.—Let us toward the King.— Think upon what hath chanc’d; and at more time, The interim having weigh’d it, let us speak Our free hearts each to other.
macbe	::	BANQUO	::	78	::	 Very gladly.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	79	::	 Till then, enough.—Come, friends.
macbe	::	DUNCAN	::	80	::	 Is execution done on Cawdor? Are not Those in commission yet return’d?
macbe	::	MALCOLM	::	81	::	 My liege, They are not yet come back. But I have spoke With one that saw him die, who did report, That very frankly he confess’d his treasons, Implor’d your Highness’ pardon, and set forth A deep repentance. Nothing in his life Became him like the leaving it; he died As one that had been studied in his death, To throw away the dearest thing he ow’d As ’twere a careless trifle.
macbe	::	DUNCAN	::	82	::	 There’s no art To find the mind’s construction in the face: He was a gentleman on whom I built An absolute trust.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	83	::	 The service and the loyalty I owe, In doing it, pays itself. Your Highness’ part Is to receive our duties: and our duties Are to your throne and state, children and servants; Which do but what they should, by doing everything Safe toward your love and honour.
macbe	::	DUNCAN	::	84	::	 Welcome hither: I have begun to plant thee, and will labour To make thee full of growing.—Noble Banquo, That hast no less deserv’d, nor must be known No less to have done so, let me infold thee And hold thee to my heart.
macbe	::	BANQUO	::	85	::	 There if I grow, The harvest is your own.
macbe	::	DUNCAN	::	86	::	 My plenteous joys, Wanton in fulness, seek to hide themselves In drops of sorrow.—Sons, kinsmen, thanes, And you whose places are the nearest, know, We will establish our estate upon Our eldest, Malcolm; whom we name hereafter The Prince of Cumberland: which honour must Not unaccompanied invest him only, But signs of nobleness, like stars, shall shine On all deservers.—From hence to Inverness, And bind us further to you.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	87	::	 The rest is labour, which is not us’d for you: I’ll be myself the harbinger, and make joyful The hearing of my wife with your approach; So, humbly take my leave.
macbe	::	DUNCAN	::	88	::	 My worthy Cawdor!
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	89	::	  The Prince of Cumberland!—That is a step On which I must fall down, or else o’erleap, For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires! Let not light see my black and deep desires. The eye wink at the hand, yet let that be, Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see.
macbe	::	DUNCAN	::	90	::	 True, worthy Banquo! He is full so valiant; And in his commendations I am fed. It is a banquet to me. Let’s after him, Whose care is gone before to bid us welcome: It is a peerless kinsman.
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	91	::	 “They met me in the day of success; and I have learned by the perfect’st report they have more in them than mortal knowledge. When I burned in desire to question them further, they made themselves air, into which they vanished. Whiles I stood rapt in the wonder of it, came missives from the King, who all-hailed me, ‘Thane of Cawdor’; by which title, before, these Weird Sisters saluted me, and referred me to the coming on of time, with ‘Hail, king that shalt be!’ This have I thought good to deliver thee (my dearest partner of greatness) that thou might’st not lose the dues of rejoicing, by being ignorant of what greatness is promis’d thee. Lay it to thy heart, and farewell.”
macbe	::	MESSENGER	::	92	::	 The King comes here tonight.
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	93	::	 Thou’rt mad to say it. Is not thy master with him? who, were’t so, Would have inform’d for preparation.
macbe	::	MESSENGER	::	94	::	 So please you, it is true. Our thane is coming. One of my fellows had the speed of him, Who, almost dead for breath, had scarcely more Than would make up his message.
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	95	::	 Give him tending. He brings great news.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	96	::	 My dearest love, Duncan comes here tonight.
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	97	::	 And when goes hence?
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	98	::	 Tomorrow, as he purposes.
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	99	::	 O, never Shall sun that morrow see! Your face, my thane, is as a book where men May read strange matters. To beguile the time, Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye, Your hand, your tongue: look like the innocent flower, But be the serpent under’t. He that’s coming Must be provided for; and you shall put This night’s great business into my dispatch; Which shall to all our nights and days to come Give solely sovereign sway and masterdom.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	100	::	 We will speak further.
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	101	::	 Only look up clear; To alter favour ever is to fear. Leave all the rest to me.
macbe	::	DUNCAN	::	102	::	 This castle hath a pleasant seat. The air Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself Unto our gentle senses.
macbe	::	BANQUO	::	103	::	 This guest of summer, The temple-haunting martlet, does approve, By his loved mansionry, that the heaven’s breath Smells wooingly here: no jutty, frieze, Buttress, nor coign of vantage, but this bird hath made his pendant bed and procreant cradle. Where they most breed and haunt, I have observ’d The air is delicate.
macbe	::	DUNCAN	::	104	::	 See, see, our honour’d hostess!— The love that follows us sometime is our trouble, Which still we thank as love. Herein I teach you How you shall bid God ’ild us for your pains, And thank us for your trouble.
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	105	::	 All our service, In every point twice done, and then done double, Were poor and single business to contend Against those honours deep and broad wherewith Your Majesty loads our house: for those of old, And the late dignities heap’d up to them, We rest your hermits.
macbe	::	DUNCAN	::	106	::	 Where’s the Thane of Cawdor? We cours’d him at the heels, and had a purpose To be his purveyor: but he rides well; And his great love, sharp as his spur, hath holp him To his home before us. Fair and noble hostess, We are your guest tonight.
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	107	::	 Your servants ever Have theirs, themselves, and what is theirs, in compt, To make their audit at your Highness’ pleasure, Still to return your own.
macbe	::	DUNCAN	::	108	::	 Give me your hand; Conduct me to mine host: we love him highly, And shall continue our graces towards him. By your leave, hostess.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	109	::	 If it were done when ’tis done, then ’twere well It were done quickly. If th’ assassination Could trammel up the consequence, and catch With his surcease success; that but this blow Might be the be-all and the end-all—here, But here, upon this bank and shoal of time, We’d jump the life to come. But in these cases We still have judgement here; that we but teach Bloody instructions, which being taught, return To plague th’ inventor. This even-handed justice Commends th’ ingredience of our poison’d chalice To our own lips. He’s here in double trust: First, as I am his kinsman and his subject, Strong both against the deed; then, as his host, Who should against his murderer shut the door, Not bear the knife myself. Besides, this Duncan Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been So clear in his great office, that his virtues Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against The deep damnation of his taking-off; And pity, like a naked new-born babe, Striding the blast, or heaven’s cherubin, hors’d Upon the sightless couriers of the air, Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye, That tears shall drown the wind.—I have no spur To prick the sides of my intent, but only Vaulting ambition, which o’erleaps itself And falls on th’ other—
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	110	::	 He has almost supp’d. Why have you left the chamber?
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	111	::	 Hath he ask’d for me?
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	112	::	 Know you not he has?
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	113	::	 We will proceed no further in this business: He hath honour’d me of late; and I have bought Golden opinions from all sorts of people, Which would be worn now in their newest gloss, Not cast aside so soon.
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	114	::	 Was the hope drunk Wherein you dress’d yourself? Hath it slept since? And wakes it now, to look so green and pale At what it did so freely? From this time Such I account thy love. Art thou afeard To be the same in thine own act and valour As thou art in desire? Wouldst thou have that Which thou esteem’st the ornament of life, And live a coward in thine own esteem, Letting “I dare not” wait upon “I would,” Like the poor cat i’ th’ adage?
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	115	::	 Pr’ythee, peace! I dare do all that may become a man; Who dares do more is none.
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	116	::	 What beast was’t, then, That made you break this enterprise to me? When you durst do it, then you were a man; And, to be more than what you were, you would Be so much more the man. Nor time nor place Did then adhere, and yet you would make both: They have made themselves, and that their fitness now Does unmake you. I have given suck, and know How tender ’tis to love the babe that milks me: I would, while it was smiling in my face, Have pluck’d my nipple from his boneless gums And dash’d the brains out, had I so sworn as you Have done to this.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	117	::	 If we should fail?
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	118	::	 We fail? But screw your courage to the sticking-place, And we’ll not fail. When Duncan is asleep (Whereto the rather shall his day’s hard journey Soundly invite him), his two chamberlains Will I with wine and wassail so convince That memory, the warder of the brain, Shall be a fume, and the receipt of reason A limbeck only: when in swinish sleep Their drenched natures lie as in a death, What cannot you and I perform upon Th’ unguarded Duncan? what not put upon His spongy officers; who shall bear the guilt Of our great quell?
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	119	::	 Bring forth men-children only; For thy undaunted mettle should compose Nothing but males. Will it not be receiv’d, When we have mark’d with blood those sleepy two Of his own chamber, and us’d their very daggers, That they have done’t?
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	120	::	 Who dares receive it other, As we shall make our griefs and clamour roar Upon his death?
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	121	::	 I am settled, and bend up Each corporal agent to this terrible feat. Away, and mock the time with fairest show: False face must hide what the false heart doth know.
macbe	::	BANQUO	::	122	::	 How goes the night, boy?
macbe	::	FLEANCE	::	123	::	 The moon is down; I have not heard the clock.
macbe	::	BANQUO	::	124	::	 And she goes down at twelve.
macbe	::	FLEANCE	::	125	::	 I take’t, ’tis later, sir.
macbe	::	BANQUO	::	126	::	 Hold, take my sword.—There’s husbandry in heaven; Their candles are all out. Take thee that too. A heavy summons lies like lead upon me, And yet I would not sleep. Merciful powers, Restrain in me the cursed thoughts that nature Gives way to in repose!
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	127	::	 A friend.
macbe	::	BANQUO	::	128	::	 What, sir, not yet at rest? The King’s abed: He hath been in unusual pleasure and Sent forth great largess to your offices. This diamond he greets your wife withal, By the name of most kind hostess, and shut up In measureless content.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	129	::	 Being unprepar’d, Our will became the servant to defect, Which else should free have wrought.
macbe	::	BANQUO	::	130	::	 All’s well. I dreamt last night of the three Weird Sisters: To you they have show’d some truth.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	131	::	 I think not of them: Yet, when we can entreat an hour to serve, We would spend it in some words upon that business, If you would grant the time.
macbe	::	BANQUO	::	132	::	 At your kind’st leisure.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	133	::	 If you shall cleave to my consent, when ’tis, It shall make honour for you.
macbe	::	BANQUO	::	134	::	 So I lose none In seeking to augment it, but still keep My bosom franchis’d, and allegiance clear, I shall be counsell’d.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	135	::	 Good repose the while!
macbe	::	BANQUO	::	136	::	 Thanks, sir: the like to you.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	137	::	 Go bid thy mistress, when my drink is ready, She strike upon the bell. Get thee to bed.
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	138	::	 That which hath made them drunk hath made me bold: What hath quench’d them hath given me fire.—Hark!—Peace! It was the owl that shriek’d, the fatal bellman, Which gives the stern’st good night. He is about it. The doors are open; and the surfeited grooms Do mock their charge with snores: I have drugg’d their possets, That death and nature do contend about them, Whether they live or die.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	139	::	  Who’s there?—what, ho!
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	140	::	 Alack! I am afraid they have awak’d, And ’tis not done. Th’ attempt and not the deed Confounds us.—Hark!—I laid their daggers ready; He could not miss ’em.—Had he not resembled My father as he slept, I had done’t.—My husband!
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	141	::	 I have done the deed.—Didst thou not hear a noise?
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	142	::	 I heard the owl scream and the crickets cry. Did not you speak?
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	143	::	 When?
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	144	::	 Now.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	145	::	 As I descended?
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	146	::	 Ay.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	147	::	 Hark!—Who lies i’ th’ second chamber?
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	148	::	 Donalbain.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	149	::	 This is a sorry sight.
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	150	::	 A foolish thought, to say a sorry sight.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	151	::	 There’s one did laugh in’s sleep, and one cried, “Murder!” That they did wake each other: I stood and heard them. But they did say their prayers, and address’d them Again to sleep.
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	152	::	 There are two lodg’d together.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	153	::	 One cried, “God bless us!” and, “Amen,” the other, As they had seen me with these hangman’s hands. List’ning their fear, I could not say “Amen,” When they did say, “God bless us.”
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	154	::	 Consider it not so deeply.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	155	::	 But wherefore could not I pronounce “Amen”? I had most need of blessing, and “Amen” Stuck in my throat.
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	156	::	 These deeds must not be thought After these ways; so, it will make us mad.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	157	::	 Methought I heard a voice cry, “Sleep no more! Macbeth does murder sleep,”—the innocent sleep; Sleep that knits up the ravell’d sleave of care, The death of each day’s life, sore labour’s bath, Balm of hurt minds, great nature’s second course, Chief nourisher in life’s feast.
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	158	::	 What do you mean?
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	159	::	 Still it cried, “Sleep no more!” to all the house: “Glamis hath murder’d sleep, and therefore Cawdor Shall sleep no more. Macbeth shall sleep no more!”
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	160	::	 Who was it that thus cried? Why, worthy thane, You do unbend your noble strength to think So brainsickly of things. Go get some water, And wash this filthy witness from your hand.— Why did you bring these daggers from the place? They must lie there: go carry them, and smear The sleepy grooms with blood.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	161	::	 I’ll go no more: I am afraid to think what I have done; Look on’t again I dare not.
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	162	::	 Infirm of purpose! Give me the daggers. The sleeping and the dead Are but as pictures. ’Tis the eye of childhood That fears a painted devil. If he do bleed, I’ll gild the faces of the grooms withal, For it must seem their guilt.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	163	::	 Whence is that knocking? How is’t with me, when every noise appals me? What hands are here? Ha, they pluck out mine eyes! Will all great Neptune’s ocean wash this blood Clean from my hand? No, this my hand will rather The multitudinous seas incarnadine, Making the green one red.
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	164	::	 My hands are of your color, but I shame To wear a heart so white.  I hear knocking At the south entry:—retire we to our chamber. A little water clears us of this deed: How easy is it then! Your constancy Hath left you unattended.— Hark, more knocking. Get on your nightgown, lest occasion call us And show us to be watchers. Be not lost So poorly in your thoughts.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	165	::	 To know my deed, ’twere best not know myself.  Wake Duncan with thy knocking! I would thou couldst!
macbe	::	PORTER	::	166	::	 Here’s a knocking indeed! If a man were porter of hell gate, he should have old turning the key.  Knock, knock, knock. Who’s there, i’ th’ name of Belzebub? Here’s a farmer that hanged himself on the expectation of plenty: come in time; have napkins enow about you; here you’ll sweat for’t.  Knock, knock! Who’s there, i’ th’ other devil’s name? Faith, here’s an equivocator, that could swear in both the scales against either scale, who committed treason enough for God’s sake, yet could not equivocate to heaven: O, come in, equivocator.  Knock, knock, knock! Who’s there? Faith, here’s an English tailor come hither, for stealing out of a French hose: come in, tailor; here you may roast your goose.  Knock, knock. Never at quiet! What are you?—But this place is too cold for hell. I’ll devil-porter it no further: I had thought to have let in some of all professions, that go the primrose way to th’ everlasting bonfire.  Anon, anon! I pray you, remember the porter.
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	167	::	 Was it so late, friend, ere you went to bed, That you do lie so late?
macbe	::	PORTER	::	168	::	 Faith, sir, we were carousing till the second cock; and drink, sir, is a great provoker of three things.
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	169	::	 What three things does drink especially provoke?
macbe	::	PORTER	::	170	::	 Marry, sir, nose-painting, sleep, and urine. Lechery, sir, it provokes and unprovokes; it provokes the desire, but it takes away the performance. Therefore much drink may be said to be an equivocator with lechery: it makes him, and it mars him; it sets him on, and it takes him off; it persuades him, and disheartens him; makes him stand to, and not stand to; in conclusion, equivocates him in a sleep, and giving him the lie, leaves him.
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	171	::	 I believe drink gave thee the lie last night.
macbe	::	PORTER	::	172	::	 That it did, sir, i’ the very throat on me; but I requited him for his lie; and (I think) being too strong for him, though he took up my legs sometime, yet I made a shift to cast him.
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	173	::	 Is thy master stirring?
macbe	::	LENNOX	::	174	::	 Good morrow, noble sir!
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	175	::	 Good morrow, both!
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	176	::	 Is the King stirring, worthy thane?
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	177	::	 Not yet.
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	178	::	 He did command me to call timely on him. I have almost slipp’d the hour.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	179	::	 I’ll bring you to him.
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	180	::	 I know this is a joyful trouble to you; But yet ’tis one.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	181	::	 The labour we delight in physics pain. This is the door.
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	182	::	 I’ll make so bold to call. For ’tis my limited service.
macbe	::	LENNOX	::	183	::	 Goes the King hence today?
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	184	::	 He does. He did appoint so.
macbe	::	LENNOX	::	185	::	 The night has been unruly: where we lay, Our chimneys were blown down and, as they say, Lamentings heard i’ th’ air, strange screams of death, And prophesying, with accents terrible, Of dire combustion and confus’d events, New hatch’d to the woeful time. The obscure bird Clamour’d the live-long night. Some say the earth Was feverous, and did shake.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	186	::	 ’Twas a rough night.
macbe	::	LENNOX	::	187	::	 My young remembrance cannot parallel A fellow to it.
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	188	::	 O horror, horror, horror! Tongue nor heart cannot conceive nor name thee!
macbe	::	MACBETH, LENNOX	::	189	::	 What’s the matter?
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	190	::	 Confusion now hath made his masterpiece! Most sacrilegious murder hath broke ope The Lord’s anointed temple, and stole thence The life o’ th’ building.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	191	::	 What is’t you say? the life?
macbe	::	LENNOX	::	192	::	 Mean you his majesty?
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	193	::	 Approach the chamber, and destroy your sight With a new Gorgon. Do not bid me speak. See, and then speak yourselves.
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	194	::	 What’s the business, That such a hideous trumpet calls to parley The sleepers of the house? Speak, speak!
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	195	::	 O gentle lady, ’Tis not for you to hear what I can speak: The repetition, in a woman’s ear, Would murder as it fell.
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	196	::	 Woe, alas! What, in our house?
macbe	::	BANQUO	::	197	::	 Too cruel anywhere.— Dear Duff, I pr’ythee, contradict thyself, And say it is not so.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	198	::	 Had I but died an hour before this chance, I had liv’d a blessed time; for, from this instant There’s nothing serious in mortality. All is but toys: renown and grace is dead; The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees Is left this vault to brag of.
macbe	::	DONALBAIN	::	199	::	 What is amiss?
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	200	::	 You are, and do not know’t: The spring, the head, the fountain of your blood Is stopp’d; the very source of it is stopp’d.
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	201	::	 Your royal father’s murder’d.
macbe	::	MALCOLM	::	202	::	 O, by whom?
macbe	::	LENNOX	::	203	::	 Those of his chamber, as it seem’d, had done’t: Their hands and faces were all badg’d with blood; So were their daggers, which, unwip’d, we found Upon their pillows. They star’d, and were distracted; No man’s life was to be trusted with them.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	204	::	 O, yet I do repent me of my fury, That I did kill them.
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	205	::	 Wherefore did you so?
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	206	::	 Who can be wise, amaz’d, temperate, and furious, Loyal and neutral, in a moment? No man: Th’ expedition of my violent love Outrun the pauser, reason. Here lay Duncan, His silver skin lac’d with his golden blood; And his gash’d stabs look’d like a breach in nature For ruin’s wasteful entrance: there, the murderers, Steep’d in the colours of their trade, their daggers Unmannerly breech’d with gore. Who could refrain, That had a heart to love, and in that heart Courage to make’s love known?
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	207	::	 Help me hence, ho!
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	208	::	 Look to the lady.
macbe	::	MALCOLM	::	209	::	 Why do we hold our tongues, That most may claim this argument for ours?
macbe	::	DONALBAIN	::	210	::	 What should be spoken here, where our fate, Hid in an auger hole, may rush, and seize us? Let’s away. Our tears are not yet brew’d.
macbe	::	MALCOLM	::	211	::	 Nor our strong sorrow Upon the foot of motion.
macbe	::	BANQUO	::	212	::	 Look to the lady:—
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	213	::	 And so do I.
macbe	::	ALL	::	214	::	 So all.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	215	::	 Let’s briefly put on manly readiness, And meet i’ th’ hall together.
macbe	::	ALL	::	216	::	 Well contented.
macbe	::	MALCOLM	::	217	::	 What will you do? Let’s not consort with them: To show an unfelt sorrow is an office Which the false man does easy. I’ll to England.
macbe	::	DONALBAIN	::	218	::	 To Ireland, I. Our separated fortune Shall keep us both the safer. Where we are, There’s daggers in men’s smiles: the near in blood, The nearer bloody.
macbe	::	MALCOLM	::	219	::	 This murderous shaft that’s shot Hath not yet lighted; and our safest way Is to avoid the aim. Therefore to horse; And let us not be dainty of leave-taking, But shift away. There’s warrant in that theft Which steals itself, when there’s no mercy left.
macbe	::	OLD MAN	::	220	::	 Threescore and ten I can remember well, Within the volume of which time I have seen Hours dreadful and things strange, but this sore night Hath trifled former knowings.
macbe	::	ROSS	::	221	::	 Ha, good father, Thou seest the heavens, as troubled with man’s act, Threatens his bloody stage: by the clock ’tis day, And yet dark night strangles the travelling lamp. Is’t night’s predominance, or the day’s shame, That darkness does the face of earth entomb, When living light should kiss it?
macbe	::	OLD MAN	::	222	::	 ’Tis unnatural, Even like the deed that’s done. On Tuesday last, A falcon, towering in her pride of place, Was by a mousing owl hawk’d at and kill’d.
macbe	::	ROSS	::	223	::	 And Duncan’s horses (a thing most strange and certain) Beauteous and swift, the minions of their race, Turn’d wild in nature, broke their stalls, flung out, Contending ’gainst obedience, as they would make War with mankind.
macbe	::	OLD MAN	::	224	::	 ’Tis said they eat each other.
macbe	::	ROSS	::	225	::	 They did so; to the amazement of mine eyes, That look’d upon’t. Here comes the good Macduff.
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	226	::	 Why, see you not?
macbe	::	ROSS	::	227	::	 Is’t known who did this more than bloody deed?
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	228	::	 Those that Macbeth hath slain.
macbe	::	ROSS	::	229	::	 Alas, the day! What good could they pretend?
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	230	::	 They were suborn’d. Malcolm and Donalbain, the King’s two sons, Are stol’n away and fled; which puts upon them Suspicion of the deed.
macbe	::	ROSS	::	231	::	 ’Gainst nature still: Thriftless ambition, that will ravin up Thine own life’s means!—Then ’tis most like The sovereignty will fall upon Macbeth.
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	232	::	 He is already nam’d; and gone to Scone To be invested.
macbe	::	ROSS	::	233	::	 Where is Duncan’s body?
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	234	::	 Carried to Colmekill, The sacred storehouse of his predecessors, And guardian of their bones.
macbe	::	ROSS	::	235	::	 Will you to Scone?
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	236	::	 No, cousin, I’ll to Fife.
macbe	::	ROSS	::	237	::	 Well, I will thither.
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	238	::	 Well, may you see things well done there. Adieu! Lest our old robes sit easier than our new!
macbe	::	ROSS	::	239	::	 Farewell, father.
macbe	::	OLD MAN	::	240	::	 God’s benison go with you; and with those That would make good of bad, and friends of foes!
macbe	::	BANQUO	::	241	::	 Thou hast it now, King, Cawdor, Glamis, all, As the Weird Women promis’d; and, I fear, Thou play’dst most foully for’t; yet it was said It should not stand in thy posterity; But that myself should be the root and father Of many kings. If there come truth from them (As upon thee, Macbeth, their speeches shine) Why, by the verities on thee made good, May they not be my oracles as well, And set me up in hope? But hush; no more.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	242	::	 Here’s our chief guest.
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	243	::	 If he had been forgotten, It had been as a gap in our great feast, And all-thing unbecoming.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	244	::	 Tonight we hold a solemn supper, sir, And I’ll request your presence.
macbe	::	BANQUO	::	245	::	 Let your Highness Command upon me, to the which my duties Are with a most indissoluble tie For ever knit.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	246	::	 Ride you this afternoon?
macbe	::	BANQUO	::	247	::	 Ay, my good lord.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	248	::	 We should have else desir’d your good advice (Which still hath been both grave and prosperous) In this day’s council; but we’ll take tomorrow. Is’t far you ride?
macbe	::	BANQUO	::	249	::	 As far, my lord, as will fill up the time ’Twixt this and supper: go not my horse the better, I must become a borrower of the night, For a dark hour or twain.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	250	::	 Fail not our feast.
macbe	::	BANQUO	::	251	::	 My lord, I will not.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	252	::	 We hear our bloody cousins are bestow’d In England and in Ireland; not confessing Their cruel parricide, filling their hearers With strange invention. But of that tomorrow, When therewithal we shall have cause of state Craving us jointly. Hie you to horse: adieu, Till you return at night. Goes Fleance with you?
macbe	::	BANQUO	::	253	::	 Ay, my good lord: our time does call upon’s.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	254	::	 I wish your horses swift and sure of foot; And so I do commend you to their backs. Farewell.—
macbe	::	SERVANT	::	255	::	 They are, my lord, without the palace gate.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	256	::	 Bring them before us.
macbe	::	FIRST MURDERER	::	257	::	 It was, so please your Highness.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	258	::	 Well then, now Have you consider’d of my speeches? Know That it was he, in the times past, which held you So under fortune, which you thought had been Our innocent self? This I made good to you In our last conference, pass’d in probation with you How you were borne in hand, how cross’d, the instruments, Who wrought with them, and all things else that might To half a soul and to a notion craz’d Say, “Thus did Banquo.”
macbe	::	FIRST MURDERER	::	259	::	 You made it known to us.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	260	::	 I did so; and went further, which is now Our point of second meeting. Do you find Your patience so predominant in your nature, That you can let this go? Are you so gospell’d, To pray for this good man and for his issue, Whose heavy hand hath bow’d you to the grave, And beggar’d yours forever?
macbe	::	FIRST MURDERER	::	261	::	 We are men, my liege.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	262	::	 Ay, in the catalogue ye go for men; As hounds, and greyhounds, mongrels, spaniels, curs, Shoughs, water-rugs, and demi-wolves are clept All by the name of dogs: the valu’d file Distinguishes the swift, the slow, the subtle, The housekeeper, the hunter, every one According to the gift which bounteous nature Hath in him clos’d; whereby he does receive Particular addition, from the bill That writes them all alike: and so of men. Now, if you have a station in the file, Not i’ th’ worst rank of manhood, say’t; And I will put that business in your bosoms, Whose execution takes your enemy off, Grapples you to the heart and love of us, Who wear our health but sickly in his life, Which in his death were perfect.
macbe	::	SECOND MURDERER	::	263	::	 I am one, my liege, Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world Hath so incens’d that I am reckless what I do to spite the world.
macbe	::	FIRST MURDERER	::	264	::	 And I another, So weary with disasters, tugg’d with fortune, That I would set my life on any chance, To mend it or be rid on’t.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	265	::	 Both of you Know Banquo was your enemy.
macbe	::	BOTH MURDERERS	::	266	::	 True, my lord.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	267	::	 So is he mine; and in such bloody distance, That every minute of his being thrusts Against my near’st of life; and though I could With barefac’d power sweep him from my sight, And bid my will avouch it, yet I must not, For certain friends that are both his and mine, Whose loves I may not drop, but wail his fall Who I myself struck down: and thence it is That I to your assistance do make love, Masking the business from the common eye For sundry weighty reasons.
macbe	::	SECOND MURDERER	::	268	::	 We shall, my lord, Perform what you command us.
macbe	::	FIRST MURDERER	::	269	::	 Though our lives—
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	270	::	 Your spirits shine through you. Within this hour at most, I will advise you where to plant yourselves, Acquaint you with the perfect spy o’ th’ time, The moment on’t; for’t must be done tonight And something from the palace; always thought That I require a clearness. And with him (To leave no rubs nor botches in the work) Fleance his son, that keeps him company, Whose absence is no less material to me Than is his father’s, must embrace the fate Of that dark hour. Resolve yourselves apart. I’ll come to you anon.
macbe	::	BOTH MURDERERS	::	271	::	 We are resolv’d, my lord.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	272	::	 I’ll call upon you straight: abide within.
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	273	::	 Is Banquo gone from court?
macbe	::	SERVANT	::	274	::	 Ay, madam, but returns again tonight.
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	275	::	 Say to the King, I would attend his leisure For a few words.
macbe	::	SERVANT	::	276	::	 Madam, I will.
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	277	::	 Naught’s had, all’s spent, Where our desire is got without content: ’Tis safer to be that which we destroy, Than by destruction dwell in doubtful joy.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	278	::	 We have scorch’d the snake, not kill’d it. She’ll close, and be herself; whilst our poor malice Remains in danger of her former tooth. But let the frame of things disjoint, Both the worlds suffer, Ere we will eat our meal in fear, and sleep In the affliction of these terrible dreams That shake us nightly. Better be with the dead, Whom we, to gain our peace, have sent to peace, Than on the torture of the mind to lie In restless ecstasy. Duncan is in his grave; After life’s fitful fever he sleeps well; Treason has done his worst: nor steel, nor poison, Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing Can touch him further.
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	279	::	 Come on, Gently my lord, sleek o’er your rugged looks; Be bright and jovial among your guests tonight.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	280	::	 So shall I, love; and so, I pray, be you. Let your remembrance apply to Banquo; Present him eminence, both with eye and tongue: Unsafe the while, that we Must lave our honours in these flattering streams, And make our faces vizards to our hearts, Disguising what they are.
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	281	::	 You must leave this.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	282	::	 O, full of scorpions is my mind, dear wife! Thou know’st that Banquo, and his Fleance, lives.
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	283	::	 But in them nature’s copy’s not eterne.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	284	::	 There’s comfort yet; they are assailable. Then be thou jocund. Ere the bat hath flown His cloister’d flight, ere to black Hecate’s summons The shard-born beetle, with his drowsy hums, Hath rung night’s yawning peal, there shall be done A deed of dreadful note.
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	285	::	 What’s to be done?
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	286	::	 Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest chuck, Till thou applaud the deed. Come, seeling night, Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day, And with thy bloody and invisible hand Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond Which keeps me pale!—Light thickens; and the crow Makes wing to th’ rooky wood. Good things of day begin to droop and drowse, Whiles night’s black agents to their preys do rouse. Thou marvell’st at my words: but hold thee still; Things bad begun make strong themselves by ill. So, pr’ythee, go with me.
macbe	::	FIRST MURDERER	::	287	::	 But who did bid thee join with us?
macbe	::	THIRD MURDERER	::	288	::	 Macbeth.
macbe	::	SECOND MURDERER	::	289	::	 He needs not our mistrust; since he delivers Our offices and what we have to do To the direction just.
macbe	::	FIRST MURDERER	::	290	::	 Then stand with us. The west yet glimmers with some streaks of day. Now spurs the lated traveller apace, To gain the timely inn; and near approaches The subject of our watch.
macbe	::	THIRD MURDERER	::	291	::	 Hark! I hear horses.
macbe	::	BANQUO	::	292	::	  Give us a light there, ho!
macbe	::	SECOND MURDERER	::	293	::	 Then ’tis he; the rest That are within the note of expectation Already are i’ th’ court.
macbe	::	FIRST MURDERER	::	294	::	 His horses go about.
macbe	::	THIRD MURDERER	::	295	::	 Almost a mile; but he does usually, So all men do, from hence to the palace gate Make it their walk.
macbe	::	SECOND MURDERER	::	296	::	 A light, a light!
macbe	::	THIRD MURDERER	::	297	::	 ’Tis he.
macbe	::	FIRST MURDERER	::	298	::	 Stand to’t.
macbe	::	BANQUO	::	299	::	 It will be rain tonight.
macbe	::	FIRST MURDERER	::	300	::	 Let it come down.
macbe	::	BANQUO	::	301	::	 O, treachery! Fly, good Fleance, fly, fly, fly! Thou mayst revenge—O slave!
macbe	::	THIRD MURDERER	::	302	::	 Who did strike out the light?
macbe	::	FIRST MURDERER	::	303	::	 Was’t not the way?
macbe	::	THIRD MURDERER	::	304	::	 There’s but one down: the son is fled.
macbe	::	SECOND MURDERER	::	305	::	 We have lost best half of our affair.
macbe	::	FIRST MURDERER	::	306	::	 Well, let’s away, and say how much is done.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	307	::	 You know your own degrees, sit down. At first And last the hearty welcome.
macbe	::	LORDS	::	308	::	 Thanks to your Majesty.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	309	::	 Ourself will mingle with society, And play the humble host. Our hostess keeps her state; but, in best time, We will require her welcome.
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	310	::	 Pronounce it for me, sir, to all our friends; For my heart speaks they are welcome.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	311	::	 See, they encounter thee with their hearts’ thanks. Both sides are even: here I’ll sit i’ th’ midst.
macbe	::	MURDERER	::	312	::	 ’Tis Banquo’s then.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	313	::	 ’Tis better thee without than he within. Is he dispatch’d?
macbe	::	MURDERER	::	314	::	 My lord, his throat is cut. That I did for him.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	315	::	 Thou art the best o’ th’ cut-throats; Yet he’s good that did the like for Fleance: If thou didst it, thou art the nonpareil.
macbe	::	MURDERER	::	316	::	 Most royal sir, Fleance is ’scap’d.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	317	::	 Then comes my fit again: I had else been perfect; Whole as the marble, founded as the rock, As broad and general as the casing air: But now I am cabin’d, cribb’d, confin’d, bound in To saucy doubts and fears. But Banquo’s safe?
macbe	::	MURDERER	::	318	::	 Ay, my good lord. Safe in a ditch he bides, With twenty trenched gashes on his head; The least a death to nature.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	319	::	 Thanks for that. There the grown serpent lies; the worm that’s fled Hath nature that in time will venom breed, No teeth for th’ present.—Get thee gone; tomorrow We’ll hear, ourselves, again.
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	320	::	 My royal lord, You do not give the cheer: the feast is sold That is not often vouch’d, while ’tis a-making, ’Tis given with welcome. To feed were best at home; From thence the sauce to meat is ceremony; Meeting were bare without it.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	321	::	 Sweet remembrancer!— Now, good digestion wait on appetite, And health on both!
macbe	::	LENNOX	::	322	::	 May’t please your Highness sit.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	323	::	 Here had we now our country’s honour roof’d, Were the grac’d person of our Banquo present; Who may I rather challenge for unkindness Than pity for mischance!
macbe	::	ROSS	::	324	::	 His absence, sir, Lays blame upon his promise. Please’t your Highness To grace us with your royal company?
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	325	::	 The table’s full.
macbe	::	LENNOX	::	326	::	 Here is a place reserv’d, sir.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	327	::	 Where?
macbe	::	LENNOX	::	328	::	 Here, my good lord. What is’t that moves your Highness?
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	329	::	 Which of you have done this?
macbe	::	LORDS	::	330	::	 What, my good lord?
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	331	::	 Thou canst not say I did it. Never shake Thy gory locks at me.
macbe	::	ROSS	::	332	::	 Gentlemen, rise; his Highness is not well.
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	333	::	 Sit, worthy friends. My lord is often thus, And hath been from his youth: pray you, keep seat; The fit is momentary; upon a thought He will again be well. If much you note him, You shall offend him, and extend his passion. Feed, and regard him not.—Are you a man?
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	334	::	 Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on that Which might appal the devil.
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	335	::	 O proper stuff! This is the very painting of your fear: This is the air-drawn dagger which you said, Led you to Duncan. O, these flaws, and starts (Impostors to true fear), would well become A woman’s story at a winter’s fire, Authoris’d by her grandam. Shame itself! Why do you make such faces? When all’s done, You look but on a stool.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	336	::	 Pr’ythee, see there! Behold! look! lo! how say you? Why, what care I? If thou canst nod, speak too.— If charnel houses and our graves must send Those that we bury back, our monuments Shall be the maws of kites.
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	337	::	 What, quite unmann’d in folly?
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	338	::	 If I stand here, I saw him.
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	339	::	 Fie, for shame!
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	340	::	 Blood hath been shed ere now, i’ th’ olden time, Ere humane statute purg’d the gentle weal; Ay, and since too, murders have been perform’d Too terrible for the ear: the time has been, That, when the brains were out, the man would die, And there an end; but now they rise again, With twenty mortal murders on their crowns, And push us from our stools. This is more strange Than such a murder is.
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	341	::	 My worthy lord, Your noble friends do lack you.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	342	::	 I do forget.— Do not muse at me, my most worthy friends. I have a strange infirmity, which is nothing To those that know me. Come, love and health to all; Then I’ll sit down.—Give me some wine, fill full.— I drink to the general joy o’ th’ whole table, And to our dear friend Banquo, whom we miss: Would he were here.
macbe	::	LORDS	::	343	::	 Our duties, and the pledge.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	344	::	 Avaunt! and quit my sight! let the earth hide thee! Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold; Thou hast no speculation in those eyes Which thou dost glare with!
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	345	::	 Think of this, good peers, But as a thing of custom: ’tis no other, Only it spoils the pleasure of the time.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	346	::	 What man dare, I dare: Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear, The arm’d rhinoceros, or th’ Hyrcan tiger; Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves Shall never tremble: or be alive again, And dare me to the desert with thy sword; If trembling I inhabit then, protest me The baby of a girl. Hence, horrible shadow! Unreal mock’ry, hence!
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	347	::	 You have displaced the mirth, broke the good meeting With most admir’d disorder.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	348	::	 Can such things be, And overcome us like a summer’s cloud, Without our special wonder? You make me strange Even to the disposition that I owe, When now I think you can behold such sights, And keep the natural ruby of your cheeks, When mine are blanch’d with fear.
macbe	::	ROSS	::	349	::	 What sights, my lord?
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	350	::	 I pray you, speak not; he grows worse and worse; Question enrages him. At once, good night:— Stand not upon the order of your going, But go at once.
macbe	::	LENNOX	::	351	::	 Good night; and better health Attend his Majesty!
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	352	::	 A kind good night to all!
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	353	::	 It will have blood, they say, blood will have blood. Stones have been known to move, and trees to speak; Augurs, and understood relations, have By magot-pies, and choughs, and rooks, brought forth The secret’st man of blood.—What is the night?
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	354	::	 Almost at odds with morning, which is which.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	355	::	 How say’st thou, that Macduff denies his person At our great bidding?
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	356	::	 Did you send to him, sir?
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	357	::	 I hear it by the way; but I will send. There’s not a one of them but in his house I keep a servant fee’d. I will tomorrow (And betimes I will) to the Weird Sisters: More shall they speak; for now I am bent to know, By the worst means, the worst. For mine own good, All causes shall give way: I am in blood Stepp’d in so far that, should I wade no more, Returning were as tedious as go o’er. Strange things I have in head, that will to hand, Which must be acted ere they may be scann’d.
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	358	::	 You lack the season of all natures, sleep.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	359	::	 Come, we’ll to sleep. My strange and self-abuse Is the initiate fear that wants hard use. We are yet but young in deed.
macbe	::	FIRST WITCH	::	360	::	 Why, how now, Hecate? you look angerly.
macbe	::	HECATE	::	361	::	 Have I not reason, beldams as you are, Saucy and overbold? How did you dare To trade and traffic with Macbeth In riddles and affairs of death; And I, the mistress of your charms, The close contriver of all harms, Was never call’d to bear my part, Or show the glory of our art? And, which is worse, all you have done Hath been but for a wayward son, Spiteful and wrathful; who, as others do, Loves for his own ends, not for you. But make amends now: get you gone, And at the pit of Acheron Meet me i’ th’ morning: thither he Will come to know his destiny. Your vessels and your spells provide, Your charms, and everything beside. I am for th’ air; this night I’ll spend Unto a dismal and a fatal end. Great business must be wrought ere noon. Upon the corner of the moon There hangs a vap’rous drop profound; I’ll catch it ere it come to ground: And that, distill’d by magic sleights, Shall raise such artificial sprites, As, by the strength of their illusion, Shall draw him on to his confusion. He shall spurn fate, scorn death, and bear His hopes ’bove wisdom, grace, and fear. And you all know, security Is mortals’ chiefest enemy.
macbe	::	FIRST WITCH	::	362	::	 Come, let’s make haste; she’ll soon be back again.
macbe	::	LENNOX	::	363	::	 My former speeches have but hit your thoughts, Which can interpret farther: only, I say, Thing’s have been strangely borne. The gracious Duncan Was pitied of Macbeth:—marry, he was dead:— And the right valiant Banquo walk’d too late; Whom, you may say, if’t please you, Fleance kill’d, For Fleance fled. Men must not walk too late. Who cannot want the thought, how monstrous It was for Malcolm and for Donalbain To kill their gracious father? damned fact! How it did grieve Macbeth! did he not straight, In pious rage, the two delinquents tear That were the slaves of drink and thralls of sleep? Was not that nobly done? Ay, and wisely too; For ’twould have anger’d any heart alive, To hear the men deny’t. So that, I say, He has borne all things well: and I do think, That had he Duncan’s sons under his key (As, and’t please heaven, he shall not) they should find What ’twere to kill a father; so should Fleance. But, peace!—for from broad words, and ’cause he fail’d His presence at the tyrant’s feast, I hear, Macduff lives in disgrace. Sir, can you tell Where he bestows himself?
macbe	::	LORD	::	364	::	 The son of Duncan, From whom this tyrant holds the due of birth, Lives in the English court and is receiv’d Of the most pious Edward with such grace That the malevolence of fortune nothing Takes from his high respect. Thither Macduff Is gone to pray the holy king, upon his aid To wake Northumberland, and warlike Siward That, by the help of these (with Him above To ratify the work), we may again Give to our tables meat, sleep to our nights; Free from our feasts and banquets bloody knives, Do faithful homage, and receive free honours, All which we pine for now. And this report Hath so exasperate the King that he Prepares for some attempt of war.
macbe	::	LENNOX	::	365	::	 Sent he to Macduff?
macbe	::	LORD	::	366	::	 He did: and with an absolute “Sir, not I,” The cloudy messenger turns me his back, And hums, as who should say, “You’ll rue the time That clogs me with this answer.”
macbe	::	LENNOX	::	367	::	 And that well might Advise him to a caution, t’ hold what distance His wisdom can provide. Some holy angel Fly to the court of England, and unfold His message ere he come, that a swift blessing May soon return to this our suffering country Under a hand accurs’d!
macbe	::	LORD	::	368	::	 I’ll send my prayers with him.
macbe	::	FIRST WITCH	::	369	::	 Thrice the brinded cat hath mew’d.
macbe	::	SECOND WITCH	::	370	::	 Thrice, and once the hedge-pig whin’d.
macbe	::	THIRD WITCH	::	371	::	 Harpier cries:—’Tis time, ’tis time.
macbe	::	FIRST WITCH	::	372	::	 Round about the cauldron go; In the poison’d entrails throw.— Toad, that under cold stone Days and nights has thirty-one Swelter’d venom sleeping got, Boil thou first i’ th’ charmed pot!
macbe	::	ALL	::	373	::	 Double, double, toil and trouble; Fire, burn; and cauldron, bubble.
macbe	::	SECOND WITCH	::	374	::	 Fillet of a fenny snake, In the cauldron boil and bake; Eye of newt, and toe of frog, Wool of bat, and tongue of dog, Adder’s fork, and blind-worm’s sting, Lizard’s leg, and howlet’s wing, For a charm of powerful trouble, Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.
macbe	::	ALL	::	375	::	 Double, double, toil and trouble; Fire, burn; and cauldron, bubble.
macbe	::	THIRD WITCH	::	376	::	 Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf, Witch’s mummy, maw and gulf Of the ravin’d salt-sea shark, Root of hemlock digg’d i’ th’ dark, Liver of blaspheming Jew, Gall of goat, and slips of yew Sliver’d in the moon’s eclipse, Nose of Turk, and Tartar’s lips, Finger of birth-strangled babe Ditch-deliver’d by a drab, Make the gruel thick and slab: Add thereto a tiger’s chaudron, For th’ ingredients of our cauldron.
macbe	::	ALL	::	377	::	 Double, double, toil and trouble; Fire, burn; and cauldron, bubble.
macbe	::	SECOND WITCH	::	378	::	 Cool it with a baboon’s blood. Then the charm is firm and good.
macbe	::	HECATE	::	379	::	 O, well done! I commend your pains, And everyone shall share i’ th’ gains. And now about the cauldron sing, Like elves and fairies in a ring, Enchanting all that you put in.
macbe	::	SECOND WITCH	::	380	::	 By the pricking of my thumbs, Something wicked this way comes. Open, locks, Whoever knocks!
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	381	::	 How now, you secret, black, and midnight hags! What is’t you do?
macbe	::	ALL	::	382	::	 A deed without a name.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	383	::	 I conjure you, by that which you profess, (Howe’er you come to know it) answer me: Though you untie the winds, and let them fight Against the churches; though the yesty waves Confound and swallow navigation up; Though bladed corn be lodg’d, and trees blown down; Though castles topple on their warders’ heads; Though palaces and pyramids do slope Their heads to their foundations; though the treasure Of nature’s germens tumble all together, Even till destruction sicken, answer me To what I ask you.
macbe	::	FIRST WITCH	::	384	::	 Speak.
macbe	::	SECOND WITCH	::	385	::	 Demand.
macbe	::	THIRD WITCH	::	386	::	 We’ll answer.
macbe	::	FIRST WITCH	::	387	::	 Say, if thou’dst rather hear it from our mouths, Or from our masters?
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	388	::	 Call ’em, let me see ’em.
macbe	::	FIRST WITCH	::	389	::	 Pour in sow’s blood, that hath eaten Her nine farrow; grease that’s sweaten From the murderer’s gibbet throw Into the flame.
macbe	::	ALL	::	390	::	 Come, high or low; Thyself and office deftly show!
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	391	::	 Tell me, thou unknown power,—
macbe	::	FIRST WITCH	::	392	::	 He knows thy thought: Hear his speech, but say thou naught.
macbe	::	APPARITION	::	393	::	 Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth! Beware Macduff; Beware the Thane of Fife.—Dismiss me.—Enough.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	394	::	 Whate’er thou art, for thy good caution, thanks; Thou hast harp’d my fear aright.—But one word more.
macbe	::	FIRST WITCH	::	395	::	 He will not be commanded. Here’s another, More potent than the first.
macbe	::	APPARITION	::	396	::	 Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth!
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	397	::	 Had I three ears, I’d hear thee.
macbe	::	APPARITION	::	398	::	 Be bloody, bold, and resolute. Laugh to scorn The power of man, for none of woman born Shall harm Macbeth.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	399	::	 Then live, Macduff: what need I fear of thee? But yet I’ll make assurance double sure, And take a bond of fate. Thou shalt not live; That I may tell pale-hearted fear it lies, And sleep in spite of thunder.
macbe	::	ALL	::	400	::	 Listen, but speak not to’t.
macbe	::	APPARITION	::	401	::	 Be lion-mettled, proud, and take no care Who chafes, who frets, or where conspirers are: Macbeth shall never vanquish’d be, until Great Birnam wood to high Dunsinane hill Shall come against him.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	402	::	 That will never be: Who can impress the forest; bid the tree Unfix his earth-bound root? Sweet bodements, good! Rebellious head, rise never till the wood Of Birnam rise, and our high-plac’d Macbeth Shall live the lease of nature, pay his breath To time and mortal custom.—Yet my heart Throbs to know one thing: tell me, if your art Can tell so much, shall Banquo’s issue ever Reign in this kingdom?
macbe	::	ALL	::	403	::	 Seek to know no more.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	404	::	 I will be satisfied: deny me this, And an eternal curse fall on you! Let me know. Why sinks that cauldron? and what noise is this?
macbe	::	FIRST WITCH	::	405	::	 Show!
macbe	::	SECOND WITCH	::	406	::	 Show!
macbe	::	THIRD WITCH	::	407	::	 Show!
macbe	::	ALL	::	408	::	 Show his eyes, and grieve his heart; Come like shadows, so depart!
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	409	::	 Thou are too like the spirit of Banquo. Down! Thy crown does sear mine eyeballs:—and thy hair, Thou other gold-bound brow, is like the first. A third is like the former.—Filthy hags! Why do you show me this?—A fourth!—Start, eyes! What, will the line stretch out to th’ crack of doom? Another yet!—A seventh!—I’ll see no more:— And yet the eighth appears, who bears a glass Which shows me many more; and some I see That twofold balls and treble sceptres carry. Horrible sight!—Now I see ’tis true; For the blood-bolter’d Banquo smiles upon me, And points at them for his.—What! is this so?
macbe	::	FIRST WITCH	::	410	::	 Ay, sir, all this is so:—but why Stands Macbeth thus amazedly?— Come, sisters, cheer we up his sprites, And show the best of our delights. I’ll charm the air to give a sound, While you perform your antic round; That this great king may kindly say, Our duties did his welcome pay.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	411	::	 Where are they? Gone?—Let this pernicious hour Stand aye accursed in the calendar!— Come in, without there!
macbe	::	LENNOX	::	412	::	 What’s your Grace’s will?
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	413	::	 Saw you the Weird Sisters?
macbe	::	LENNOX	::	414	::	 No, my lord.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	415	::	 Came they not by you?
macbe	::	LENNOX	::	416	::	 No, indeed, my lord.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	417	::	 Infected be the air whereon they ride; And damn’d all those that trust them!—I did hear The galloping of horse: who was’t came by?
macbe	::	LENNOX	::	418	::	 ’Tis two or three, my lord, that bring you word Macduff is fled to England.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	419	::	 Fled to England!
macbe	::	LENNOX	::	420	::	 Ay, my good lord.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	421	::	 Time, thou anticipat’st my dread exploits: The flighty purpose never is o’ertook Unless the deed go with it. From this moment The very firstlings of my heart shall be The firstlings of my hand. And even now, To crown my thoughts with acts, be it thought and done: The castle of Macduff I will surprise; Seize upon Fife; give to th’ edge o’ th’ sword His wife, his babes, and all unfortunate souls That trace him in his line. No boasting like a fool; This deed I’ll do before this purpose cool: But no more sights!—Where are these gentlemen? Come, bring me where they are.
macbe	::	LADY MACDUFF	::	422	::	 What had he done, to make him fly the land?
macbe	::	ROSS	::	423	::	 You must have patience, madam.
macbe	::	LADY MACDUFF	::	424	::	 He had none: His flight was madness: when our actions do not, Our fears do make us traitors.
macbe	::	ROSS	::	425	::	 You know not Whether it was his wisdom or his fear.
macbe	::	LADY MACDUFF	::	426	::	 Wisdom! to leave his wife, to leave his babes, His mansion, and his titles, in a place From whence himself does fly? He loves us not: He wants the natural touch; for the poor wren, The most diminutive of birds, will fight, Her young ones in her nest, against the owl. All is the fear, and nothing is the love; As little is the wisdom, where the flight So runs against all reason.
macbe	::	ROSS	::	427	::	 My dearest coz, I pray you, school yourself: but, for your husband, He is noble, wise, judicious, and best knows The fits o’ th’ season. I dare not speak much further: But cruel are the times, when we are traitors, And do not know ourselves; when we hold rumour From what we fear, yet know not what we fear, But float upon a wild and violent sea Each way and move—I take my leave of you: Shall not be long but I’ll be here again. Things at the worst will cease, or else climb upward To what they were before.—My pretty cousin, Blessing upon you!
macbe	::	LADY MACDUFF	::	428	::	 Father’d he is, and yet he’s fatherless.
macbe	::	ROSS	::	429	::	 I am so much a fool, should I stay longer, It would be my disgrace and your discomfort: I take my leave at once.
macbe	::	LADY MACDUFF	::	430	::	 Sirrah, your father’s dead. And what will you do now? How will you live?
macbe	::	SON	::	431	::	 As birds do, mother.
macbe	::	LADY MACDUFF	::	432	::	 What, with worms and flies?
macbe	::	SON	::	433	::	 With what I get, I mean; and so do they.
macbe	::	LADY MACDUFF	::	434	::	 Poor bird! thou’dst never fear the net nor lime, The pit-fall nor the gin.
macbe	::	SON	::	435	::	 Why should I, mother? Poor birds they are not set for. My father is not dead, for all your saying.
macbe	::	LADY MACDUFF	::	436	::	 Yes, he is dead: how wilt thou do for a father?
macbe	::	SON	::	437	::	 Nay, how will you do for a husband?
macbe	::	LADY MACDUFF	::	438	::	 Why, I can buy me twenty at any market.
macbe	::	SON	::	439	::	 Then you’ll buy ’em to sell again.
macbe	::	LADY MACDUFF	::	440	::	 Thou speak’st with all thy wit; And yet, i’ faith, with wit enough for thee.
macbe	::	SON	::	441	::	 Was my father a traitor, mother?
macbe	::	LADY MACDUFF	::	442	::	 Ay, that he was.
macbe	::	SON	::	443	::	 What is a traitor?
macbe	::	LADY MACDUFF	::	444	::	 Why, one that swears and lies.
macbe	::	SON	::	445	::	 And be all traitors that do so?
macbe	::	LADY MACDUFF	::	446	::	 Every one that does so is a traitor, and must be hanged.
macbe	::	SON	::	447	::	 And must they all be hanged that swear and lie?
macbe	::	LADY MACDUFF	::	448	::	 Every one.
macbe	::	SON	::	449	::	 Who must hang them?
macbe	::	LADY MACDUFF	::	450	::	 Why, the honest men.
macbe	::	SON	::	451	::	 Then the liars and swearers are fools: for there are liars and swearers enow to beat the honest men and hang up them.
macbe	::	LADY MACDUFF	::	452	::	 Now, God help thee, poor monkey! But how wilt thou do for a father?
macbe	::	SON	::	453	::	 If he were dead, you’ld weep for him: if you would not, it were a good sign that I should quickly have a new father.
macbe	::	LADY MACDUFF	::	454	::	 Poor prattler, how thou talk’st!
macbe	::	MESSENGER	::	455	::	 Bless you, fair dame! I am not to you known, Though in your state of honour I am perfect. I doubt some danger does approach you nearly: If you will take a homely man’s advice, Be not found here; hence, with your little ones. To fright you thus, methinks, I am too savage; To do worse to you were fell cruelty, Which is too nigh your person. Heaven preserve you! I dare abide no longer.
macbe	::	LADY MACDUFF	::	456	::	 Whither should I fly? I have done no harm. But I remember now I am in this earthly world, where to do harm Is often laudable; to do good sometime Accounted dangerous folly:  why then, alas, Do I put up that womanly defence, To say I have done no harm? What are these faces?
macbe	::	FIRST MURDERER	::	457	::	 Where is your husband?
macbe	::	LADY MACDUFF	::	458	::	 I hope, in no place so unsanctified Where such as thou mayst find him.
macbe	::	FIRST MURDERER	::	459	::	 He’s a traitor.
macbe	::	SON	::	460	::	 Thou liest, thou shag-ear’d villain!
macbe	::	FIRST MURDERER	::	461	::	 What, you egg!
macbe	::	SON	::	462	::	 He has kill’d me, mother: Run away, I pray you!
macbe	::	MALCOLM	::	463	::	 Let us seek out some desolate shade and there Weep our sad bosoms empty.
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	464	::	 Let us rather Hold fast the mortal sword, and, like good men, Bestride our down-fall’n birthdom. Each new morn New widows howl, new orphans cry; new sorrows Strike heaven on the face, that it resounds As if it felt with Scotland, and yell’d out Like syllable of dolour.
macbe	::	MALCOLM	::	465	::	 What I believe, I’ll wail; What know, believe; and what I can redress, As I shall find the time to friend, I will. What you have spoke, it may be so, perchance. This tyrant, whose sole name blisters our tongues, Was once thought honest: you have loved him well; He hath not touch’d you yet. I am young; but something You may deserve of him through me; and wisdom To offer up a weak, poor, innocent lamb To appease an angry god.
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	466	::	 I am not treacherous.
macbe	::	MALCOLM	::	467	::	 But Macbeth is. A good and virtuous nature may recoil In an imperial charge. But I shall crave your pardon. That which you are, my thoughts cannot transpose. Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell: Though all things foul would wear the brows of grace, Yet grace must still look so.
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	468	::	 I have lost my hopes.
macbe	::	MALCOLM	::	469	::	 Perchance even there where I did find my doubts. Why in that rawness left you wife and child, Those precious motives, those strong knots of love, Without leave-taking?—I pray you, Let not my jealousies be your dishonours, But mine own safeties. You may be rightly just, Whatever I shall think.
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	470	::	 Bleed, bleed, poor country! Great tyranny, lay thou thy basis sure, For goodness dare not check thee! wear thou thy wrongs; The title is affeer’d.—Fare thee well, lord: I would not be the villain that thou think’st For the whole space that’s in the tyrant’s grasp And the rich East to boot.
macbe	::	MALCOLM	::	471	::	 Be not offended: I speak not as in absolute fear of you. I think our country sinks beneath the yoke; It weeps, it bleeds; and each new day a gash Is added to her wounds. I think, withal, There would be hands uplifted in my right; And here, from gracious England, have I offer Of goodly thousands: but, for all this, When I shall tread upon the tyrant’s head, Or wear it on my sword, yet my poor country Shall have more vices than it had before, More suffer, and more sundry ways than ever, By him that shall succeed.
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	472	::	 What should he be?
macbe	::	MALCOLM	::	473	::	 It is myself I mean; in whom I know All the particulars of vice so grafted That, when they shall be open’d, black Macbeth Will seem as pure as snow; and the poor state Esteem him as a lamb, being compar’d With my confineless harms.
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	474	::	 Not in the legions Of horrid hell can come a devil more damn’d In evils to top Macbeth.
macbe	::	MALCOLM	::	475	::	 I grant him bloody, Luxurious, avaricious, false, deceitful, Sudden, malicious, smacking of every sin That has a name: but there’s no bottom, none, In my voluptuousness: your wives, your daughters, Your matrons, and your maids, could not fill up The cistern of my lust; and my desire All continent impediments would o’erbear, That did oppose my will: better Macbeth Than such an one to reign.
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	476	::	 Boundless intemperance In nature is a tyranny; it hath been Th’ untimely emptying of the happy throne, And fall of many kings. But fear not yet To take upon you what is yours: you may Convey your pleasures in a spacious plenty, And yet seem cold—the time you may so hoodwink. We have willing dames enough; there cannot be That vulture in you, to devour so many As will to greatness dedicate themselves, Finding it so inclin’d.
macbe	::	MALCOLM	::	477	::	 With this there grows In my most ill-compos’d affection such A staunchless avarice, that, were I king, I should cut off the nobles for their lands; Desire his jewels, and this other’s house: And my more-having would be as a sauce To make me hunger more; that I should forge Quarrels unjust against the good and loyal, Destroying them for wealth.
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	478	::	 This avarice Sticks deeper; grows with more pernicious root Than summer-seeming lust; and it hath been The sword of our slain kings: yet do not fear; Scotland hath foisons to fill up your will, Of your mere own. All these are portable, With other graces weigh’d.
macbe	::	MALCOLM	::	479	::	 But I have none: the king-becoming graces, As justice, verity, temp’rance, stableness, Bounty, perseverance, mercy, lowliness, Devotion, patience, courage, fortitude, I have no relish of them; but abound In the division of each several crime, Acting it many ways. Nay, had I power, I should Pour the sweet milk of concord into hell, Uproar the universal peace, confound All unity on earth.
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	480	::	 O Scotland, Scotland!
macbe	::	MALCOLM	::	481	::	 If such a one be fit to govern, speak: I am as I have spoken.
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	482	::	 Fit to govern? No, not to live.—O nation miserable, With an untitled tyrant bloody-scepter’d, When shalt thou see thy wholesome days again, Since that the truest issue of thy throne By his own interdiction stands accus’d, And does blaspheme his breed? Thy royal father Was a most sainted king. The queen that bore thee, Oft’ner upon her knees than on her feet, Died every day she lived. Fare thee well! These evils thou repeat’st upon thyself Have banish’d me from Scotland.—O my breast, Thy hope ends here!
macbe	::	MALCOLM	::	483	::	 Macduff, this noble passion, Child of integrity, hath from my soul Wiped the black scruples, reconcil’d my thoughts To thy good truth and honour. Devilish Macbeth By many of these trains hath sought to win me Into his power, and modest wisdom plucks me From over-credulous haste: but God above Deal between thee and me! for even now I put myself to thy direction, and Unspeak mine own detraction; here abjure The taints and blames I laid upon myself, For strangers to my nature. I am yet Unknown to woman; never was forsworn; Scarcely have coveted what was mine own; At no time broke my faith; would not betray The devil to his fellow; and delight No less in truth than life: my first false speaking Was this upon myself. What I am truly, Is thine and my poor country’s to command: Whither, indeed, before thy here-approach, Old Siward, with ten thousand warlike men, Already at a point, was setting forth. Now we’ll together, and the chance of goodness Be like our warranted quarrel. Why are you silent?
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	484	::	 Such welcome and unwelcome things at once ’Tis hard to reconcile.
macbe	::	MALCOLM	::	485	::	 Well; more anon.—Comes the King forth, I pray you?
macbe	::	DOCTOR	::	486	::	 Ay, sir. There are a crew of wretched souls That stay his cure: their malady convinces The great assay of art; but at his touch, Such sanctity hath heaven given his hand, They presently amend.
macbe	::	MALCOLM	::	487	::	 I thank you, doctor.
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	488	::	 What’s the disease he means?
macbe	::	MALCOLM	::	489	::	 ’Tis call’d the evil: A most miraculous work in this good king; Which often, since my here-remain in England, I have seen him do. How he solicits heaven, Himself best knows, but strangely-visited people, All swoln and ulcerous, pitiful to the eye, The mere despair of surgery, he cures; Hanging a golden stamp about their necks, Put on with holy prayers: and ’tis spoken, To the succeeding royalty he leaves The healing benediction. With this strange virtue, He hath a heavenly gift of prophecy; And sundry blessings hang about his throne, That speak him full of grace.
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	490	::	 See, who comes here?
macbe	::	MALCOLM	::	491	::	 My countryman; but yet I know him not.
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	492	::	 My ever-gentle cousin, welcome hither.
macbe	::	MALCOLM	::	493	::	 I know him now. Good God, betimes remove The means that makes us strangers!
macbe	::	ROSS	::	494	::	 Sir, amen.
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	495	::	 Stands Scotland where it did?
macbe	::	ROSS	::	496	::	 Alas, poor country, Almost afraid to know itself! It cannot Be call’d our mother, but our grave, where nothing, But who knows nothing, is once seen to smile; Where sighs, and groans, and shrieks, that rent the air, Are made, not mark’d; where violent sorrow seems A modern ecstasy. The dead man’s knell Is there scarce ask’d for who; and good men’s lives Expire before the flowers in their caps, Dying or ere they sicken.
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	497	::	 O, relation Too nice, and yet too true!
macbe	::	MALCOLM	::	498	::	 What’s the newest grief?
macbe	::	ROSS	::	499	::	 That of an hour’s age doth hiss the speaker; Each minute teems a new one.
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	500	::	 How does my wife?
macbe	::	ROSS	::	501	::	 Why, well.
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	502	::	 And all my children?
macbe	::	ROSS	::	503	::	 Well too.
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	504	::	 The tyrant has not batter’d at their peace?
macbe	::	ROSS	::	505	::	 No; they were well at peace when I did leave ’em.
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	506	::	 Be not a niggard of your speech: how goes’t?
macbe	::	ROSS	::	507	::	 When I came hither to transport the tidings, Which I have heavily borne, there ran a rumour Of many worthy fellows that were out; Which was to my belief witness’d the rather, For that I saw the tyrant’s power afoot. Now is the time of help. Your eye in Scotland Would create soldiers, make our women fight, To doff their dire distresses.
macbe	::	MALCOLM	::	508	::	 Be’t their comfort We are coming thither. Gracious England hath Lent us good Siward and ten thousand men; An older and a better soldier none That Christendom gives out.
macbe	::	ROSS	::	509	::	 Would I could answer This comfort with the like! But I have words That would be howl’d out in the desert air, Where hearing should not latch them.
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	510	::	 What concern they? The general cause? or is it a fee-grief Due to some single breast?
macbe	::	ROSS	::	511	::	 No mind that’s honest But in it shares some woe, though the main part Pertains to you alone.
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	512	::	 If it be mine, Keep it not from me, quickly let me have it.
macbe	::	ROSS	::	513	::	 Let not your ears despise my tongue for ever, Which shall possess them with the heaviest sound That ever yet they heard.
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	514	::	 Humh! I guess at it.
macbe	::	ROSS	::	515	::	 Your castle is surpris’d; your wife and babes Savagely slaughter’d. To relate the manner Were, on the quarry of these murder’d deer, To add the death of you.
macbe	::	MALCOLM	::	516	::	 Merciful heaven!— What, man! ne’er pull your hat upon your brows. Give sorrow words. The grief that does not speak Whispers the o’er-fraught heart, and bids it break.
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	517	::	 My children too?
macbe	::	ROSS	::	518	::	 Wife, children, servants, all That could be found.
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	519	::	 And I must be from thence! My wife kill’d too?
macbe	::	ROSS	::	520	::	 I have said.
macbe	::	MALCOLM	::	521	::	 Be comforted: Let’s make us med’cines of our great revenge, To cure this deadly grief.
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	522	::	 He has no children.—All my pretty ones? Did you say all?—O hell-kite!—All? What, all my pretty chickens and their dam At one fell swoop?
macbe	::	MALCOLM	::	523	::	 Dispute it like a man.
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	524	::	 I shall do so; But I must also feel it as a man: I cannot but remember such things were, That were most precious to me.—Did heaven look on, And would not take their part? Sinful Macduff, They were all struck for thee! Naught that I am, Not for their own demerits, but for mine, Fell slaughter on their souls: heaven rest them now!
macbe	::	MALCOLM	::	525	::	 Be this the whetstone of your sword. Let grief Convert to anger; blunt not the heart, enrage it.
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	526	::	 O, I could play the woman with mine eyes, And braggart with my tongue!—But, gentle heavens, Cut short all intermission; front to front, Bring thou this fiend of Scotland and myself; Within my sword’s length set him; if he ’scape, Heaven forgive him too!
macbe	::	MALCOLM	::	527	::	 This tune goes manly. Come, go we to the King. Our power is ready; Our lack is nothing but our leave. Macbeth Is ripe for shaking, and the powers above Put on their instruments. Receive what cheer you may; The night is long that never finds the day.
macbe	::	DOCTOR	::	528	::	 I have two nights watched with you, but can perceive no truth in your report. When was it she last walked?
macbe	::	GENTLEWOMAN	::	529	::	 Since his Majesty went into the field, I have seen her rise from her bed, throw her nightgown upon her, unlock her closet, take forth paper, fold it, write upon’t, read it, afterwards seal it, and again return to bed; yet all this while in a most fast sleep.
macbe	::	DOCTOR	::	530	::	 A great perturbation in nature, to receive at once the benefit of sleep, and do the effects of watching. In this slumbery agitation, besides her walking and other actual performances, what, at any time, have you heard her say?
macbe	::	GENTLEWOMAN	::	531	::	 That, sir, which I will not report after her.
macbe	::	DOCTOR	::	532	::	 You may to me; and ’tis most meet you should.
macbe	::	GENTLEWOMAN	::	533	::	 Neither to you nor anyone; having no witness to confirm my speech.
macbe	::	DOCTOR	::	534	::	 How came she by that light?
macbe	::	GENTLEWOMAN	::	535	::	 Why, it stood by her: she has light by her continually; ’tis her command.
macbe	::	DOCTOR	::	536	::	 You see, her eyes are open.
macbe	::	GENTLEWOMAN	::	537	::	 Ay, but their sense are shut.
macbe	::	DOCTOR	::	538	::	 What is it she does now? Look how she rubs her hands.
macbe	::	GENTLEWOMAN	::	539	::	 It is an accustomed action with her, to seem thus washing her hands. I have known her continue in this a quarter of an hour.
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	540	::	 Yet here’s a spot.
macbe	::	DOCTOR	::	541	::	 Hark, she speaks. I will set down what comes from her, to satisfy my remembrance the more strongly.
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	542	::	 Out, damned spot! out, I say! One; two. Why, then ’tis time to do’t. Hell is murky! Fie, my lord, fie! a soldier, and afeard? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our power to account? Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him?
macbe	::	DOCTOR	::	543	::	 Do you mark that?
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	544	::	 The Thane of Fife had a wife. Where is she now?—What, will these hands ne’er be clean? No more o’ that, my lord, no more o’ that: you mar all with this starting.
macbe	::	DOCTOR	::	545	::	 Go to, go to. You have known what you should not.
macbe	::	GENTLEWOMAN	::	546	::	 She has spoke what she should not, I am sure of that: heaven knows what she has known.
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	547	::	 Here’s the smell of the blood still: all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. Oh, oh, oh!
macbe	::	DOCTOR	::	548	::	 What a sigh is there! The heart is sorely charged.
macbe	::	GENTLEWOMAN	::	549	::	 I would not have such a heart in my bosom for the dignity of the whole body.
macbe	::	DOCTOR	::	550	::	 Well, well, well.
macbe	::	GENTLEWOMAN	::	551	::	 Pray God it be, sir.
macbe	::	DOCTOR	::	552	::	 This disease is beyond my practice: yet I have known those which have walked in their sleep, who have died holily in their beds.
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	553	::	 Wash your hands, put on your nightgown; look not so pale. I tell you yet again, Banquo’s buried; he cannot come out on’s grave.
macbe	::	DOCTOR	::	554	::	 Even so?
macbe	::	LADY MACBETH	::	555	::	 To bed, to bed. There’s knocking at the gate. Come, come, come, come, give me your hand. What’s done cannot be undone. To bed, to bed, to bed.
macbe	::	DOCTOR	::	556	::	 Will she go now to bed?
macbe	::	GENTLEWOMAN	::	557	::	 Directly.
macbe	::	DOCTOR	::	558	::	 Foul whisp’rings are abroad. Unnatural deeds Do breed unnatural troubles: infected minds To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets. More needs she the divine than the physician.— God, God, forgive us all! Look after her; Remove from her the means of all annoyance, And still keep eyes upon her. So, good night: My mind she has mated, and amaz’d my sight. I think, but dare not speak.
macbe	::	GENTLEWOMAN	::	559	::	 Good night, good doctor.
macbe	::	MENTEITH	::	560	::	 The English power is near, led on by Malcolm, His uncle Siward, and the good Macduff. Revenges burn in them; for their dear causes Would to the bleeding and the grim alarm Excite the mortified man.
macbe	::	ANGUS	::	561	::	 Near Birnam wood Shall we well meet them. That way are they coming.
macbe	::	CAITHNESS	::	562	::	 Who knows if Donalbain be with his brother?
macbe	::	LENNOX	::	563	::	 For certain, sir, he is not. I have a file Of all the gentry: there is Siward’s son And many unrough youths, that even now Protest their first of manhood.
macbe	::	MENTEITH	::	564	::	 What does the tyrant?
macbe	::	CAITHNESS	::	565	::	 Great Dunsinane he strongly fortifies. Some say he’s mad; others, that lesser hate him, Do call it valiant fury: but, for certain, He cannot buckle his distemper’d cause Within the belt of rule.
macbe	::	ANGUS	::	566	::	 Now does he feel His secret murders sticking on his hands; Now minutely revolts upbraid his faith-breach; Those he commands move only in command, Nothing in love: now does he feel his title Hang loose about him, like a giant’s robe Upon a dwarfish thief.
macbe	::	MENTEITH	::	567	::	 Who, then, shall blame His pester’d senses to recoil and start, When all that is within him does condemn Itself for being there?
macbe	::	CAITHNESS	::	568	::	 Well, march we on, To give obedience where ’tis truly ow’d: Meet we the med’cine of the sickly weal; And with him pour we, in our country’s purge, Each drop of us.
macbe	::	LENNOX	::	569	::	 Or so much as it needs To dew the sovereign flower, and drown the weeds. Make we our march towards Birnam.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	570	::	 Bring me no more reports; let them fly all: Till Birnam wood remove to Dunsinane I cannot taint with fear. What’s the boy Malcolm? Was he not born of woman? The spirits that know All mortal consequences have pronounc’d me thus: “Fear not, Macbeth; no man that’s born of woman Shall e’er have power upon thee.”—Then fly, false thanes, And mingle with the English epicures: The mind I sway by, and the heart I bear, Shall never sag with doubt nor shake with fear.
macbe	::	SERVANT	::	571	::	 There is ten thousand—
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	572	::	 Geese, villain?
macbe	::	SERVANT	::	573	::	 Soldiers, sir.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	574	::	 Go prick thy face and over-red thy fear, Thou lily-liver’d boy. What soldiers, patch? Death of thy soul! those linen cheeks of thine Are counsellors to fear. What soldiers, whey-face?
macbe	::	SERVANT	::	575	::	 The English force, so please you.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	576	::	 Take thy face hence.
macbe	::	SEYTON	::	577	::	 What’s your gracious pleasure?
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	578	::	 What news more?
macbe	::	SEYTON	::	579	::	 All is confirm’d, my lord, which was reported.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	580	::	 I’ll fight till from my bones my flesh be hack’d. Give me my armour.
macbe	::	SEYTON	::	581	::	 ’Tis not needed yet.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	582	::	 I’ll put it on. Send out more horses, skirr the country round; Hang those that talk of fear. Give me mine armour.— How does your patient, doctor?
macbe	::	DOCTOR	::	583	::	 Not so sick, my lord, As she is troubled with thick-coming fancies, That keep her from her rest.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	584	::	 Cure her of that: Canst thou not minister to a mind diseas’d, Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow, Raze out the written troubles of the brain, And with some sweet oblivious antidote Cleanse the stuff’d bosom of that perilous stuff Which weighs upon the heart?
macbe	::	DOCTOR	::	585	::	 Therein the patient Must minister to himself.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	586	::	 Throw physic to the dogs, I’ll none of it. Come, put mine armour on; give me my staff: Seyton, send out.—Doctor, the Thanes fly from me.— Come, sir, despatch.—If thou couldst, doctor, cast The water of my land, find her disease, And purge it to a sound and pristine health, I would applaud thee to the very echo, That should applaud again.—Pull’t off, I say.— What rhubarb, senna, or what purgative drug, Would scour these English hence? Hear’st thou of them?
macbe	::	DOCTOR	::	587	::	 Ay, my good lord. Your royal preparation Makes us hear something.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	588	::	 Bring it after me.— I will not be afraid of death and bane, Till Birnam forest come to Dunsinane.
macbe	::	DOCTOR	::	589	::	 Were I from Dunsinane away and clear, Profit again should hardly draw me here.
macbe	::	MALCOLM	::	590	::	 Cousins, I hope the days are near at hand That chambers will be safe.
macbe	::	MENTEITH	::	591	::	 We doubt it nothing.
macbe	::	SIWARD	::	592	::	 What wood is this before us?
macbe	::	MENTEITH	::	593	::	 The wood of Birnam.
macbe	::	MALCOLM	::	594	::	 Let every soldier hew him down a bough, And bear’t before him. Thereby shall we shadow The numbers of our host, and make discovery Err in report of us.
macbe	::	SOLDIERS	::	595	::	 It shall be done.
macbe	::	SIWARD	::	596	::	 We learn no other but the confident tyrant Keeps still in Dunsinane, and will endure Our setting down before’t.
macbe	::	MALCOLM	::	597	::	 ’Tis his main hope; For where there is advantage to be given, Both more and less have given him the revolt, And none serve with him but constrained things, Whose hearts are absent too.
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	598	::	 Let our just censures Attend the true event, and put we on Industrious soldiership.
macbe	::	SIWARD	::	599	::	 The time approaches, That will with due decision make us know What we shall say we have, and what we owe. Thoughts speculative their unsure hopes relate, But certain issue strokes must arbitrate; Towards which advance the war.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	600	::	 Hang out our banners on the outward walls; The cry is still, “They come!” Our castle’s strength Will laugh a siege to scorn: here let them lie Till famine and the ague eat them up. Were they not forc’d with those that should be ours, We might have met them dareful, beard to beard, And beat them backward home.
macbe	::	SEYTON	::	601	::	 It is the cry of women, my good lord.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	602	::	 I have almost forgot the taste of fears. The time has been, my senses would have cool’d To hear a night-shriek; and my fell of hair Would at a dismal treatise rouse and stir As life were in’t. I have supp’d full with horrors; Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts, Cannot once start me.
macbe	::	SEYTON	::	603	::	 The Queen, my lord, is dead.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	604	::	 She should have died hereafter. There would have been a time for such a word. Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life’s but a walking shadow; a poor player, That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, And then is heard no more: it is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing.
macbe	::	MESSENGER	::	605	::	 Gracious my lord, I should report that which I say I saw, But know not how to do’t.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	606	::	 Well, say, sir.
macbe	::	MESSENGER	::	607	::	 As I did stand my watch upon the hill, I look’d toward Birnam, and anon, methought, The wood began to move.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	608	::	 Liar, and slave!
macbe	::	MESSENGER	::	609	::	 Let me endure your wrath, if’t be not so. Within this three mile may you see it coming; I say, a moving grove.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	610	::	 If thou speak’st false, Upon the next tree shalt thou hang alive, Till famine cling thee: if thy speech be sooth, I care not if thou dost for me as much.— I pull in resolution; and begin To doubt th’ equivocation of the fiend, That lies like truth. “Fear not, till Birnam wood Do come to Dunsinane;” and now a wood Comes toward Dunsinane.—Arm, arm, and out!— If this which he avouches does appear, There is nor flying hence nor tarrying here. I ’gin to be aweary of the sun, And wish th’ estate o’ th’ world were now undone.— Ring the alarum bell!—Blow, wind! come, wrack! At least we’ll die with harness on our back.
macbe	::	MALCOLM	::	611	::	 Now near enough. Your leafy screens throw down, And show like those you are.—You, worthy uncle, Shall with my cousin, your right noble son, Lead our first battle: worthy Macduff and we Shall take upon’s what else remains to do, According to our order.
macbe	::	SIWARD	::	612	::	 Fare you well.— Do we but find the tyrant’s power tonight, Let us be beaten, if we cannot fight.
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	613	::	 Make all our trumpets speak; give them all breath, Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	614	::	 They have tied me to a stake. I cannot fly, But, bear-like I must fight the course.—What’s he That was not born of woman? Such a one Am I to fear, or none.
macbe	::	YOUNG SIWARD	::	615	::	 What is thy name?
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	616	::	 Thou’lt be afraid to hear it.
macbe	::	YOUNG SIWARD	::	617	::	 No; though thou call’st thyself a hotter name Than any is in hell.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	618	::	 My name’s Macbeth.
macbe	::	YOUNG SIWARD	::	619	::	 The devil himself could not pronounce a title More hateful to mine ear.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	620	::	 No, nor more fearful.
macbe	::	YOUNG SIWARD	::	621	::	 Thou liest, abhorred tyrant. With my sword I’ll prove the lie thou speak’st.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	622	::	 Thou wast born of woman. But swords I smile at, weapons laugh to scorn, Brandish’d by man that’s of a woman born.
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	623	::	 That way the noise is.—Tyrant, show thy face! If thou be’st slain and with no stroke of mine, My wife and children’s ghosts will haunt me still. I cannot strike at wretched kerns, whose arms Are hired to bear their staves. Either thou, Macbeth, Or else my sword, with an unbatter’d edge, I sheathe again undeeded. There thou shouldst be; By this great clatter, one of greatest note Seems bruited. Let me find him, Fortune! And more I beg not.
macbe	::	SIWARD	::	624	::	 This way, my lord;—the castle’s gently render’d: The tyrant’s people on both sides do fight; The noble thanes do bravely in the war, The day almost itself professes yours, And little is to do.
macbe	::	MALCOLM	::	625	::	 We have met with foes That strike beside us.
macbe	::	SIWARD	::	626	::	 Enter, sir, the castle.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	627	::	 Why should I play the Roman fool, and die On mine own sword? whiles I see lives, the gashes Do better upon them.
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	628	::	 Turn, hell-hound, turn!
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	629	::	 Of all men else I have avoided thee: But get thee back; my soul is too much charg’d With blood of thine already.
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	630	::	 I have no words; My voice is in my sword: thou bloodier villain Than terms can give thee out!
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	631	::	 Thou losest labour: As easy mayst thou the intrenchant air With thy keen sword impress, as make me bleed: Let fall thy blade on vulnerable crests; I bear a charmed life, which must not yield To one of woman born.
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	632	::	 Despair thy charm; And let the angel whom thou still hast serv’d Tell thee, Macduff was from his mother’s womb Untimely ripp’d.
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	633	::	 Accursed be that tongue that tells me so, For it hath cow’d my better part of man! And be these juggling fiends no more believ’d, That palter with us in a double sense; That keep the word of promise to our ear, And break it to our hope!—I’ll not fight with thee.
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	634	::	 Then yield thee, coward, And live to be the show and gaze o’ th’ time. We’ll have thee, as our rarer monsters are, Painted upon a pole, and underwrit, “Here may you see the tyrant.”
macbe	::	MACBETH	::	635	::	 I will not yield, To kiss the ground before young Malcolm’s feet, And to be baited with the rabble’s curse. Though Birnam wood be come to Dunsinane, And thou oppos’d, being of no woman born, Yet I will try the last. Before my body I throw my warlike shield: lay on, Macduff; And damn’d be him that first cries, “Hold, enough!”
macbe	::	MALCOLM	::	636	::	 I would the friends we miss were safe arriv’d.
macbe	::	SIWARD	::	637	::	 Some must go off; and yet, by these I see, So great a day as this is cheaply bought.
macbe	::	MALCOLM	::	638	::	 Macduff is missing, and your noble son.
macbe	::	ROSS	::	639	::	 Your son, my lord, has paid a soldier’s debt: He only liv’d but till he was a man; The which no sooner had his prowess confirm’d In the unshrinking station where he fought, But like a man he died.
macbe	::	SIWARD	::	640	::	 Then he is dead?
macbe	::	FLEANCE	::	641	::	 Ay, and brought off the field. Your cause of sorrow Must not be measur’d by his worth, for then It hath no end.
macbe	::	SIWARD	::	642	::	 Had he his hurts before?
macbe	::	ROSS	::	643	::	 Ay, on the front.
macbe	::	SIWARD	::	644	::	 Why then, God’s soldier be he! Had I as many sons as I have hairs, I would not wish them to a fairer death: And so his knell is knoll’d.
macbe	::	MALCOLM	::	645	::	 He’s worth more sorrow, And that I’ll spend for him.
macbe	::	SIWARD	::	646	::	 He’s worth no more. They say he parted well and paid his score: And so, God be with him!—Here comes newer comfort.
macbe	::	MACDUFF	::	647	::	 Hail, King, for so thou art. Behold, where stands Th’ usurper’s cursed head: the time is free. I see thee compass’d with thy kingdom’s pearl, That speak my salutation in their minds; Whose voices I desire aloud with mine,— Hail, King of Scotland!
macbe	::	ALL	::	648	::	 Hail, King of Scotland!
macbe	::	MALCOLM	::	649	::	 We shall not spend a large expense of time Before we reckon with your several loves, And make us even with you. My thanes and kinsmen, Henceforth be earls, the first that ever Scotland In such an honour nam’d. What’s more to do, Which would be planted newly with the time,— As calling home our exil’d friends abroad, That fled the snares of watchful tyranny; Producing forth the cruel ministers Of this dead butcher, and his fiend-like queen, Who, as ’tis thought, by self and violent hands Took off her life;—this, and what needful else That calls upon us, by the grace of Grace, We will perform in measure, time, and place. So thanks to all at once, and to each one, Whom we invite to see us crown’d at Scone.