Internet Shakespeare Editions

About this text

  • Title: King Lear (Folio 1, 1623)
  • Editor: Michael Best
  • ISBN: 978-1-55058-463-9

    Copyright Michael Best. This text may be freely used for educational, non-profit purposes; for all other uses contact the Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Editor: Michael Best
    Not Peer Reviewed

    King Lear (Folio 1, 1623)

    Scena Secunda.
    Enter Gonerill, Ba stard, and Steward.
    Gon. Welcome my Lord. I meruell our mild husband
    Not met vs on the way. Now, where's your Ma ster?
    2270 Stew. Madam within, but neuer man so chang'd:
    I told him of the Army that was Landed:
    He smil'd at it. I told him you were comming,
    His answer was, the worse. Of Glo sters Treachery,
    And of the loyall Seruice of his Sonne
    2275When I inform'd him, then he call'd me Sot,
    And told me I had turn'd the wrong side out:
    What mo st he should di slike, seemes pleasant to him;
    What like, offen siue.
    Gon. Then shall you go no further.
    2280It is the Cowi sh terror of his spirit
    That dares not vndertake: Hee'l not feele wrongs
    Which tye him to an answer: our wi shes on the way
    May proue effects. Backe Edmond to my Brother,
    Ha sten his Mu sters, and conduct his powres.
    2285I mu st change names at home, and giue the Di staffe
    Into my Husbands hands. This tru stie Seruant
    Shall pa s s e betweene vs: ere long you are like to heare
    (If you dare venture in your owne behalfe)
    A Mi stre s s es command. Weare this; spare speech,
    2290Decline your head. This ki s s e, if it dur st speake
    Would stretch thy Spirits vp into the ayre:
    Conceiue, and fare thee well.
    Ba st . Yours in the rankes of death. Exit.
    Gon. My mo st deere Glo ster.
    2295Oh, the difference of man, and man,
    To thee a Womans seruices are due,
    My Foole vsurpes my body.
    Stew. Madam, here come's my Lord.
    Enter Albany.
    2300 Gon. I haue beene worth the whi stle.
    Alb. Oh Gonerill,
    You are not worth the du st which the rude winde
    Blowes in your face.
    Gon. Milke-Liuer'd man,
    2305That bear' st a cheeke for blowes, a head for wrongs,
    Who ha st not in thy browes an eye-discerning
    Thine Honor, from thy suffering.
    Alb. See thy selfe diuell :
    Proper deformitie seemes not in the Fiend
    2310So horrid as in woman.
    Gon. Oh vaine Foole.
    Enter a Me s s enger.
    Mes . Oh my good Lord, the Duke of Cornwals dead,
    Slaine by his Seruant, going to put out
    2315The other eye of Glou ster.
    Alb. Glou sters eyes.
    Mes . A Seruant that he bred, thrill'd with remorse,
    Oppos'd again st the act : bending his Sword
    To his great Ma ster, who, threat-enrag'd
    2320Flew on him, and among' st them fell'd him dead,
    But not without that harmefull stroke, which since
    Hath pluckt him after.
    Alb. This shewes you are aboue
    You Iu stices, that these our neather crimes
    2325So speedily can venge. But (O poore Glou ster)
    Lo st he his other eye?
    Mes . Both, both, my Lord.
    This Leter Madam, craues a speedy answer:
    'Tis from your Si ster.
    2330 Gon. One way I like this well,
    But being widdow, and my Glou ster with her,
    May all the building in my fancie plucke
    Vpon my hatefull life. Another way
    The Newes is not so tart. Ile read, and answer.
    2335 Alb. Where was his Sonne,
    When they did take his eyes?
    Mes . Come with my Lady hither.
    Alb. He is not heere.
    Mes . No my good Lord, I met him backe againe.
    2340 Alb. Knowes he the wickedne s s e?
    Mes . I my good Lord: 'twas he inform'd again st him
    And quit the house on purpose, that their puni shment
    Might haue the freer course.
    Alb. Glou ster, I liue
    2345To thanke thee for the loue thou shew'd st the King,
    And to reuenge thine eyes. Come hither Friend,
    Tell me what more thou know' st. Exeunt.