King Lear (Folio 1, 1623)
Not Peer Reviewed
¶
Scena Septima.
¶
Enter Cornwall, Regan, Gonerill, Bastard,
¶and Seruants.
¶him this Letter, the Army of France is landed: seeke out
¶the Traitor Glouster.
¶Gon. Plucke out his eyes.
¶you our Sister company: the reuenges wee are bound to
¶take vppon your Traitorous Father, are not fit for your
¶beholding. Aduice the Duke where you are going, to a
¶
Enter Steward.
¶How now? Where's the King?
2075Some fiue or six and thirty of his Knights
¶Who, with some other of the Lords, dependants,
¶Are gone with him toward Douer; where they boast
¶To haue well armed Friends.
¶Pinnion him like a Theefe, bring him before vs:
2085Without the forme of Iustice: yet our power
¶Shall do a curt'sie to our wrath, which men
¶May blame, but not comptroll.
¶
Enter Gloucester, and Seruants.
¶Who's there? the Traitor?
2090Reg. Ingratefull Fox, 'tis he.
¶Glou. What meanes your Graces?
¶Do me no foule play, Friends.
¶Reg. Hard, hard: O filthy Traitor.
¶Glou. Vnmercifull Lady, as you are, I'me none.
¶Corn. To this Chaire binde him,
¶Villaine, thou shalt finde.
¶To plucke me by the Beard.
¶Glou. Naughty Ladie,
¶With Robbers hands, my hospitable fauours
¶You should not ruffle thus. What will you do?
¶Corn. Come Sir.
¶What Letters had you late from France?
¶Corn. And what confederacie haue you with the Trai-
¶tors, late footed in the Kingdome?
¶You haue sent the Lunaticke King: Speake.
¶Which came from one that's of a newtrall heart,
¶And not from one oppos'd.
¶Corn. Cunning.
¶Glou. To Douer.
¶Reg. Wherefore to Douer?
¶Was't thou not charg'd at perill.
2125Glou. I am tyed to'th'Stake,
¶Reg. Wherefore to Douer?
¶Plucke out his poore old eyes: nor thy fierce Sister,
¶In Hell-blacke-night indur'd, would haue buoy'd vp
¶And quench'd the Stelled fires:
¶Yet poore old heart, he holpe the Heauens to raine.
2135If Wolues had at thy Gate howl'd that sterne time,
¶The winged Vengeance ouertake such Children.
¶Glou. He that will thinke to liue, till he be old,
¶Giue me some helpe. ---- O cruell! O you Gods.
2145Seru. Hold your hand, my Lord:
¶But better seruice haue I neuer done you,
¶Then now to bid you hold.
¶Reg. How now, you dogge?
2150Ser. If you did weare a beard vpon your chin,
¶I'ld shake it on this quarrell. What do you meane?
¶Corn. My Villaine?
¶Seru. Nay then come on, and take the chance of anger.
2155
Killes him.
¶Where is thy luster now?
¶Where's my Sonne Edmund?
¶Edmund, enkindle all the sparkes of Nature
¶To quit this horrid acte.
¶Reg. Out treacherous Villaine,
2165Thou call'st on him, that hates thee. It was he
¶That made the ouerture of thy Treasons to vs:
¶Who is too good to pitty thee.
¶Glou. O my Follies! then Edgar was abus'd,
¶Kinde Gods, forgiue me that, and prosper him.
¶His way to Douer.
Exit with Glouster.
¶How is't my Lord? How looke you?
¶Corn. I haue receiu'd a hurt: Follow me Lady;
2175Vpon the Dunghill: Regan, I bleed apace,
¶Vntimely comes this hurt. Giue me your arme.
Exeunt,
