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King Lear The Cambridge Dover Wilson Shakespeare Volume 17 William Shakespeare E di ted by John D over Wilson
C A m B R i D g E U N i V E R Si T y P R E S S Cambridge New york melbourne madrid Cape Town Singapore São Paolo Delhi Published in the United States of America by Cambridge University Press, New york www.cambridge.org information on this title: www.cambridge.org/9781108005890 © in this compilation Cambridge University Press 2009 This edition first published 1960 This digitally printed version 2009 iSBN 978-1-108-00589-0 This book reproduces the text of the original edition. The content and language reflect the beliefs, practices and terminology of their time, and have not been updated.
THE WORKS OF SHAKESPEARE EDITED FOR THE SYNDICS OF THE CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS BY
JOHN DOVER WILSON
KING LEAR EDITED BY GEORGE IAN DUTHIE AND JOHN DOVER WILSON
KING LEAR
CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS CAMBRIDGE LONDON • NEW YORK • MELBOURNE
CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS Cambridge, New York, Melbourne, Madrid, Cape Town, Singapore, Sao Paulo, Delhi Cambridge University Press The Edinburgh Building, Cambridge CB2 8RU, UK Published in the United States of America by Cambridge University Press, New York www.cambridge.org Information on this title: www.cambridge.org/9780521094849 © Cambridge University Press 1960, 2008 This publication is in copyright. Subject to statutory exception and to the provisions of relevant collective licensing agreements, no reproduction of any part may take place without the written permission of Cambridge University Press. First published 1960 Reprinted 1962 First paperback edition 1968 Reprinted 1969, 1972, 1975, 1979 Re-issued in this digitally printed version 2009 A catalogue record for this publication is available from the British Library ISBN 978-0-521-07541-1 hardback ISBN 978-0-521-09484-9 paperback
CONTENTS PREFATORY NOTE INTRODUCTION I. Sources and Date II. The King III. Cordelia IV. Kent V. The Fool VI. Lear's Suffering VII. The Sub-Plot VIII. 'Nature' IX. Man's Double Nature X. The Play's 'Pessimism' XL D. G. James' View of the Play THE STAGE-HISTORY TO THE READER KING LEAR
PAGE
vii ix ix
xiv xx xxvi xxviii xxxiii xxxviii xliii xlvii xlviii lii Ivi Ixix I
THE COPY FOR KING LEAR, 1608 AND 1623
122
NOTES
140
GLOSSARY
277
TO
DAVID NICHOL SMITH FROM THE TWO EDITORS
vii
PREFATORY NOTE The editing of this play, like that of'Romeo and Juliet in 1955, has been shared by Professor Duthie and myself. And, as before, he drafted the whole and handed it over to me with permission to make what additions or changes I thought fit. The Introduction (except for a paragraph on page xxiv about Cordelia) and the Note on the Copy are virtually as he gave them to me; and the text also is his, except for some slight adaptation of the stage-directions and emendations here and there, made with his consent. The Glossary too, apart from a few additions, is mainly his. Since, however, the Notes he drafted were predominantly textual in character, it has fallen to me to supply most of the exegesis, such .textual notes as I am responsible for being labelled
'J.D.W.'. His earlier edition of the play, published in 1949, was at once recognized as a landmark in the study of Shakespearian textual criticism. Scholars may well turn then with especial interest to his present Note on the Copy, which embodies some of his second thoughts in the light of subsequent work on the text. Yet in a play like King Lear commentary presents problems almost, if not quite, as difficult as those involved in textual decision. And I for my part have been compelled to not a few second thoughts by other collaborators in the edition as a whole, namely Mr C. B. Youngand Mr J. C. Maxwell, who read my notes in draft and to whom I owe a good deal more than can be conveniently recorded; while a third friend, Professor Peter Alexander, has always been ready with a word of warning or encouragement.' Needless to say, moreover, I have kept the valuable editions of Professor Kenneth Muir
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PREFATORY NOTE
and the late Professor Kittredge constantly before me. Finally—a point well known to scholars—the general reader of a modern text of King Lear should be made aware of the great debt all editors of this play owe to Sir Walter Greg's various essays upon it and in particular to that little bibliographical masterpiece The Variants in the First Qgarto of King Lear (1940), which is the foundation of the present text and will remain the foundation of all future ones. How many years of his life Professor Duthie has given to the text of King Lear I do not know. I have myself only been able to spend sixteen' months on the commentary. For life is short and the editing of Shakespeare an endless adventure.
J.D.W.
CHRISTMAS I958
ix
INTRODUCTION I. Sources and Date The story of King Lear and his daughters is a very old one, and it had been told by many writers before it supplied Shakespeare with the main plot of his mightiest tragedy. Shakespeare apparently knew four renderings of the tale. He knew it as it is chronicled in the pages of Holinshed. He knew it as it is told in the second book of The Faerie Qyeene. He knew it related—as coming from the mouth of the youngest daughter, after her death— by John Higgins in the Mirrorfor Magistrates. And he knew it already presented in dramatic form, by a playwright whose identity we do not know, as The True Chronicle History of King Leir, and his three daughterst Gonorill, Ragan, and Cordelia. The reader who wishes to go into the question of the relationship between Shakespeare's play and its sources should consult first the beautiful and too little known lecture on the subject by R. W. Chambers,1 and for details an article published in The Library* by Sir Walter Greg in 1940. Greg lists some two score parallels3 between Shakespeare's version and the Leir play. It would, seem, as he says, that, as Shakespeare wrote; 'ideas, phrases, cadences from the old play still floated in his memory below the level of conscious thought, and that now and again one or another helped to fashion the words that flowed from his pen'. He shows also that there are 1
King Lean the first W. P. Ker Memorial Lecture, by R. W. Chambers (Glasgow, 1940). 3
4th series, XX (1939-40), 377 ff. There was room for only a few of these in our Notes. 3
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places in Lear where Shakespeare seems to recall now Holinshed, now Spenser, now Higgins. We find, too, recollections of words and phrases from other books. Shakespeare knew Samuel Harsnett's Declaration of Egregious Popish Impostures, and, as Professor Muir has
shown,1 echoes it frequently in this play. There are echoes also of Florio's translation of Montaigne.* And the Gloucester sub-plot has its source in the story of the Paphlagonian king in Sidney's Arcadia. Plenty of Shakespearian reading lies behind this play. But assuredly he did not write it with books at his elbow. And what he remembered from books he used for his own new purposes, transmuting what his memory furnished. He has his own dramatic design to work out. If he recalls and uses words and phrases and situations from one or other of the sources, he is never bound to follow the plot-development of any of them. In Holinshed, Spenser, and Higgins Lear is, after his tribulations, restored to his crown through the military intervention of Cordelia and her husband. He dies in the course of nature, and is succeeded by Cordelia, who rules for a time. She then becomes a victim of rebellion by her nephews, is defeated and imprisoned, and commits suicide. In the Leir play we have the restoration of the king to his throne as the ending, with no unhappy fate for Cordelia. Shakespeare differs here (and elsewhere too) from all four source-documents, and is infinitely more powerful. The plot, the tone, and the significances of the drama he produces are his own business. When did Shakespeare compose King Lear} Harsnett's book was entered in the Stationers' Register on 16 March 1603; and the Shakespearian Lear itself was registered on 26 November 1607, the entry indicatx In the revised 'Ardea* edition of the play (i95*)» pp.253 ff. * Ibid. pp. 249 ff«
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ing that it had been performed at court on 26 December 1606. Thus we have clearly established termini. Can a more precise date befixedupon? Sir Edmund Chambers1 declares that 'these late eclipses' referred to by Gloucester in 1. 2 'must be the nearly total eclipse of the sun on 2 October 1605 and the partial eclipse of the moon on 27 September 1605'; and he says also that 'there is a fairly palpable imitation of 1.4.9-42 in Edward Sharpham's The F/eir, 1, ad fin?, a work which 'was probably produced after 30 January 1606, registered on May 13, and printed in 1607'. The composition of Lear, then, would seem to belong to the winter of 1605-6: and Chambers comments further that 'the earlier part of 1606 seems also to fit best for Macbeth, and...the time-table left available by plagues makes it unlikely that two Shakespearean plays appeared almost concurrently at this date and none at all in 160 5, which was clearer from sickness'; thus the latter months of 1605 would seem to be indicated for Lear. And this fits in very well with the appearance of the principal source, the Leir play, which was registered on 8 May 1605, and published in the same year. We can readily imagine Shakespeare studying this book (along with other versions of the story) during the summer and autumn of 1605. The picture seems to be clear enough, and it may indeed be accurate; yet there are difficulties in the way of accepting it—difficulties excellently presented by Sir Walter Greg in the 1940 article already drawn upon. The earliest record ofa Lear drama is oftwo performances of a 'kinge leare' at the Rose in April 1594, in the course of a brief and unsuccessful season there by the Queen's and Sussex' companies jointly. As Greg says, 'It was not a new play, and since there is no trace of it in Sussex' men's repertory during their longer season of 1
William Shakespeare (1930), 1, 468.
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thirty performances the previous Christmas, it presumably belonged to the Queen's'. It was no doubt this play, or a version of it, that was entered in the Stationer? Register on 14 May 1594, as 'The moste famous Chronicle historye of Leire kinge of England and his Three Daughters'; but this entry would appear not to have been followed by publication, for on 8 May 1605, we have, entered to Simon Stafford and immediately transferred to John Wright, 'the Tragecall historie of Kinge Leir and his-Three Daughters'. 'These entries,' says Greg, 'are sufficient evidence that no edition had followed the entrance of 1594. Had there been one it would presumably have been known: an honest holder of the copy would not have entered it anew, he would have obtained an assignment; while a pirate would have stood to gain nothing by advertising his theft.' The Stafford-Wright entry was followed in the same year by the publication of the Leir text which we have already referred to as Shakespeare's main source. Now there are, about the 1605 Leir publication, two odd things which, as Greg shows, suggest that Shakespeare's play was in existence before 8 May 1605. (1) In the entry, the Leir play was originally called a 'Tragedie'; this was subsequently altered to 'Tragecall historie'. Now Leir is not a tragedy—and the title-page gives it as a 'true chronicle history'. Reference to the tragic in the Register may well be due to the fact that Shakespeare's tragic handling of the story had been, recently acted. (2) The entry refers to Leir as having been 'latelie Acted', and the Leir title-page carries the legend 'As it hath bene diuers and sundry times lately acted'. Now it is quite possible that the play performed and registered in 1594 was not the same play as that entered and published in 1605. Yet it is equally possible that the two were the same, or closely related; and not only, as Greg
INTRODUCTION
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says, would it be foolish not to apply the principle of Occam's razor, but the style of the play published in 1605 definitely suggests a much earlier date. Greg is surely being very reasonable when he says,' Ifindit very difficult to believe that this respectable but old-fashioned play, dating back in all probability to about 1590, had been "divers and sundry times lately acted" in 1605.' But if Shakespeare's new play had been sundry times lately acted by the spring of 1605, it is easy enough to believe that'it was the popularity of Shakespeare's play that suggested the publication of the old KingLeir\ and that there was a fraudulent intention to pass off the Leir volume as giving the text of Shakespeare's recent successful masterpiece. It seems eminently possible then that Shakespeare wrote Lear late in 1604 or early in 1605. How, in that case, did he get his intimate knowledge of the Leir play? Are his debts to it due merely to recollection of performances in thefirsthalf of the 1590's ? This cannot be ruled out as quite impossible, but it does not seem likely. Shakespeare's acquaintance with the old play seems rather too close to make such an explanation plausible. Having given his impressive list of parallels, Greg comments : 'When a general similarity of structure and incident has already betrayed Shakespeare's acquaintance with the earlier piece: then the parallels, I conceive, point to his having read it with some care.' Presumably he read it ia manuscript. The manuscript registered in 1594 may have been a transcript, or even a report, ofthe Leir prompt-book: that prompt-book itself may eventually have come intothe possession ofthe Chamberlain's Men: it may have lain unused in their library until Shakespeare'read it and decided to transfigure it: and subsequently, in some way, Stafford may have got hold of it. This hypothetical chain of events—advanced as possible by Greg (though he is not very enthusiastic
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about it)—has nothing in it inherently unlikely. As for the reference to eclipses which suggests that Lear belongs to the later part of 1605: there is always the possibility of the insertion of a topical allusion some time after the composition of the play; but in any case I have never been happy about this kind of evidence for dating. Astrology is a significant dramatic element in Lear. Why should it be supposed that if Shakespeare makes a character refer to 'these late eclipses' he must needs have in mind eclipses that had actually occurred in the recent experience of himself and his audiences ? I pass to a consideration of Shakespeare's play in and by itself—the play which Maeterlinck called 'the mightiest, the vastest, the most stirring, the most intense dramatic poem that has ever been written'. Indebted to Sir Walter Greg in what has gone before, I am equally indebted, in what follows, to various other recent critics. It happens here—as perhaps elsewhere also—that the editor of a play in a serial edition finds that he has little to say about it that has not been said before, but that he wishes to tell his readers about some of the views—the most important ones, in his opinion— taken by others. He may wish to endorse them, or to oppose them. And if a debt is inadvertently unacknowledged, why then, 'pray you, forgive and forget'.
II. The King In Shakespeare's play the king is an impressive, dominating figure. He is aged, and he speaks of himself as about to 'crawl toward death' (1. I. 40). Yet he is in fact robust; for at r. 4. 8 we find him coming back from hunting, a strenuous pursuit, and calling with hearty appetite for dinner. There is no fatigue here. In the centre of the play he is grievously afflicted by exposure to the fury of the tempest; yet he survives it—and, after
INTRODUCTION
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his ordeal, he has the strength, near the very end, to kill Cordelia's hangman. His physical stamina is indeed extraordinary, and any producer who thought of presenting him as (in Lamb's phrase) 'an old man tottering about the stage with a walking-stick' would be (in Cordelia's phrase) 'far wide'. And Lear's aspect is indeed royal. The disguised Kent is assuredly using no flattery when at i. 4. 31 he speaks of Lear as having 'authority' in his countenance—that is, in his bearing. The Lear we see in 1. 1 is a monarch of great age, of powerful physique, of compelling personality. But he is a foolish man. Consider what he does. Determined to retain the title, status, and prerogatives of a king, he nevertheless wishes to relinquish the actual task of ruling. He has decided to divide his kingdom amongst his three daughters who, with their husbands, will govern their respective regions, under his titular authority. In the first scene of the play he ostensibly holds an auction—the best portion of the kingdom will go to that daughter who by her words indicates that she loves her father best of the three; and so on. But he has already made his division. Before the play has begun, he has decided to give Goneril and Regan exactly equal portions of the realm, and to give Cordelia a portion richer than these. If he has made his decision already, why should he ask the daughters to speak of their love for him before he formally presents them with their portions ? It might be suggested that he wants to corroborate in his own mind, or publicly to display as sound, his previous judgement as to their degrees of" affection for him. But this will hardly do. For when thefirstdaughter has spoken, Lear gives her her portion before hearing the second; and when the second has spoken, he gives her her portion before hearing the third. His real reason for making his daughters speak of their love is just that he likes to hear
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himself praised on ceremonial occasions. He knew that Goneril would flatter him, that Regan would flatter him; and he enjoys their flattery. He was confident that Cordelia—his particular favourite—would excel them in adulation. His own words give him away. 'Now, our joy,' he says, what can you say to draw A third more opulent than your sisters? Speak. The matter is already decided. Lear leans back to enjoy the culmination of the performance he has staged. But the words do not come, and he immediately casts her off. And to his fault of vanity is joined the fault of rashness. When his pride receives an affront he reacts intemperately. He lacks self-control. Passion usurps the place of reason. And this is not merely the result of old age—he 'hath ever but slenderly known himself', and 'the best and soundest of his time hath been but rash'. None of the pre-Shakespearian versions gives any reasonable excuse for Lear's rejection of Cordelia. But with the love-contest the matter is different. In the old Leir play the love-contest is not originally the king's idea. Leir's queen has died and the funeral has just taken place. His three daughters are unmarried. He now wants to marry them to 'princely mates' for their own good; for, deprived of their mother's care, they are like 'a ship without a stern', since a father can manage sons but does not know how to guide daughters. In addition, he wants to resign his crown, for he is old and tired and hopes to devote himself tothe contemplative life. He wishes therefore to divide his realm amongst the three daughters as dowry. He will thus kill two birds with one stone. One of his lords, Skalliger, advises him to modify his plan. He recommends him To make them each a jointure more or less As is their worth, to them that love profess.
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Leir rejects this: No more, nor less, but even all alike. But he subsequently decides to conduct the contest. When he does, he speaks as if the idea is his own and has just occurred to him— I am resolv'd, and even now my mind Doth meditate a sudden stratagem, To try which of my daughters loves me best. The old playwright is inconsistent. But the fact that the plan is not Leir's in the first place does suggest a mitigation of his blameworthiness. And yet Leir does not need this mitigation; for in deciding to conduct the contest he has a motive which is at once reasonable and wellintentioned. The two elder daughters have suitors whom they are prepared to accept. But the youngest, Cordelia, though 'solicited by divers peers', will accept none of them. She will not marry anyone 'unless love allows', and as yet none has appeared whom she can love. This naturally causes Leir anxiety—his youngest child has no one to look after her properly. It is this commendable anxiety which causes him to institute the love-contest. He calculates thus: when his daughters declare how much they love him, they will 'contend each to exceed the other in their love' (and, if we regard this as rather cynical, the atmosphere of the passage permits us to visualize a twinkle in the old king's eye). 'Then,' he continues, at the vantage will I take Cordelia. Even as she doth protest she loves me best, I'll say 'Then, daughter, grant me one request, To show thou lov'st me as thy sisters do, Accept a husband whom myself will woo.' This said, she cannot well deny my suit, Although, poor soul, her senses will be mute.
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Then will I triumph in my policy, And match her with a king of Britanny. No doubt this is hardly honourable (quite apart from the fact that Leir does not know his Cordelia): but it is rational; and. the trick is a loving stratagem. Shakespeare rejects it altogether—surely because he wants to relate Lear's questioning of his daughters simply and solely to a serious character-defect. In his opening scene Shakespeare will give Lear no excuse whatever for what he does. Shakespeare wants, at the outset, to establishfirmlyin our minds the notion oihamartia. In a brilliant book on Hamlet recently published1 Professor Alexander makes light of that notion in connection with Hamlet: it is certainly relevant to Lear. The Leir playwright is, I have said, inconsistent. Having given the king a rational and good-hearted motive for arranging the love-contest, he makes him react to Cordelia's honesty in an intemperate way which, disconcerts us because Leir has so far been so reasonable. The writer does not seem able to give a consistent characterization of the king at the start. Shakespeare is quite clear, to the king's disadvantage. The absurdity of Lear's conduct in Shakespeare's first scene is such as to induce some critics to say that the scene is 'improbable'. Thus Coleridge declared that * Lear is the only serious performance of Shakespeare the interest and situations of which are derived from the assumption of a gross improbability'.3 Professor Charlton says, in his book Shakespearian Tragedy, published in 1948 (in which what I have just been writing about Leir and Lear at the beginning of the story is more felicitously put), that 'Shakespeare's version has more 1
Hamlet, Father and Son (1955). Coleridge's Shakespearean Criticism, ed. T . M. Raysor (i93°)> h S9' 8
INTRODUCTION
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improbabilities in it than has any of the older versions'.1 Yet I doubt whether the 'improbabilities' of i . I trouble any audience in the theatre; for the might of Shakespeare's poetry conveys to our imaginations 'an elemental human world', and we do not think altogether in terms of commonplace probability. This is going to be a huge, momentous, universal tragedy—essentially different from the old Leir play in which, as Professor Charlton says, 'the anonymous dramatist set the whole scene in an atmosphere of everyday reasonable probability'. Consider the two elder sisters, for instance. In the old play they are, as Charlton says again, 'commonplace in their littlenesses. They regard Cordelia as a "proud pert Peat", mainly because she copies the cut of all the new frocks which they put on so that they may compete with her greater natural prettiness'. H o w different is this from Shakespeare's presentation of two moral monsters! What Goneril and Regan have in their hearts is quintessential evil. Thus Shakespeare withdraws from them the kind of real-life actuality which they have in the old play. He makes them more improbable. But by the power of his imagination, and of the poetry which expresses it, he makes them seem frighteningly real to us in a deeper sense. Professor Tucker Brooke declares2 that in Shakespeare's Lear 'the theme is bourgeois, in spite of the rank of the protagonists; the vices portrayed are mean and the virtues homely'. I cannot think that this is a proper estimate. Professor Tucker Brooke's words are indeed very applicable to the old play. But Shakespeare's transformation of the old play lifts the story out of the everyday bourgeois world and into the sphere of the elemental. 1 Charlton, op. cit. p. 198. * In A Literary History of England, ed. A . C. Baugh (1948), p . 536.
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At the beginning of Shakespeare's play, Lear is foolish. At the end, he is a man who has learned wisdom. And it is an appalling intensity of suffering that has taught him this wisdom. This is a play about education. It is not essentially different to say that it is also a play about conversion, spiritual regeneration, the attainment of salvation. At the beginning Lear is spiritually bankrupt; at the end he is (to use a phrase of Marlowe's) 'i' the way to heaven'. 'The Lear that dies is not a Lear defiant, but a Lear redeemed. His education is complete, his regeneration accomplished.'1 His initial folly and lack of spiritual health result in his rejection of Cordelia. The wisdom and spiritual health which he ultimately achieves result in his kneeling before Cordelia. How does Shakespeare want us to think of Cordelia? She is conceived as a Christ-like figure. This is indicated by words applied to her by other characters and by words she herself speaks. It is a feature of Shakespeare's art that he sometimes makes a character express itself in words and phrases the surface meaning of which, important in itself, is quite clear—but the words and phrases chosen to express this surface meaning have certain well-defined and widelyaccepted associations, so that, as the character speaks, it becomes surrounded in the audience's imaginations with_ a certain atmosphere. Cordelia's grief over her father's sufferings is thus described in 4. 3. 3 0 - 1 : There she shook The holy water from her heavenly eyes That clamour moistened. 1
J. Dover Wilson, The Essential Shakespeare (1937), p. 126.
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On the surface the meaning is simply that her beautiful eyes shed tears which were caused by her truly filial feeling. And it would be absurd to brush the surface meaning aside as unimportant—it is the primary meaning. But the words 'holy water', conjoined with the word 'heavenly', could not but suggest to Shakespeare's contemporary audiences a Christ-like atmosphere about Cordelia. 'The reference is certainly to the holy water of ecclesiastical usage', says Mr Bethell;1 and he points out that holy water, 'being prepared with the addition of salt, furnishes an especially appropriate conceit'. In the next scene Cordelia says O, dear father, It is thy business that I go about, echoing words of the child Christ quoted in the second chapter of St Luke. In 4.7 she says to her father who, as yet, cannot hear her, and wast thou fain> poor father, To hovel thee with swine and rogues forlorn, In short and musty straw? No doubt Shakespeare has in memory the line in Higgins in which Cordila, contrasting her earlier life of prosperity with her subsequent experience in prison, uses the words From dainty beds of down, to be of straw full fain. But surely he also has in mind the story of the Prodigal Son who, according to one version, 'wolde faine have filled his bellie with ye huskes, that the swine ate'. 3 The Prodigal returned to his father and declared that he was 1
Shakespeare and the Popular Dramatic Tradition (1944), p. 59. * Quoted from The Newe Testament (Geneva, 1560). So also The Bible...Imprinted at London by the Deputies of Christopher Barker...1594—'And he woulde faine have filled his bellie with the huskes, that the swine ate....' N.S.K.L.-Z
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no longer worthy to be called his son. In essentially the same way Lear kneels before Cordelia—the parent and child roles are reversed. The Prodigal's father symbolizes the Divine. Once more Shakespeare invests Cordelia with an aura of Christian purity. In the same scene, a moment or two later, Lear comes to consciousness and speaks to Cordelia— Thou art a soul in bliss, but I am bound Upon a wheel of fire..., suggesting the Christian notions of Heaven and Purgatory. And this Christ-like nature of Cordelia is suggested not only in the later stages of the play, but at the start as well—by the same method of the use of evocative words. Mr Bethell (to whom, as to Professor Heilman, 1 I am greatly indebted) quotes words spoken by the King of France in i . i . France cannot think that Cordelia has been guilty of any heinous offence, which to believe of her Must be a faith that reason without miracle Should never plant in me. The surface meaning is plain enough, and of course France is not consciously speaking in Christian terms. But Shakespeare's contemporary audiences could not but mark the suggestive significance of the juxtaposition of words like 'believe', 'faith', 'miracle'. What Lear rejects at the start is the truth and wisdom that Christianity cherishes: by the end, through suffering, he has come to see the value of that truth and wisdom. The play is, of course, set in pre-Christian times; there is no overt reference to Christianity, and there is indeed only one reference (5. 3. 17) to ' G o d ' in the singular (and this may be a piece of Shakespearian carelessness). The point 1
See his book This Great Stage: Image and Structure in 'King Lear' (1948).
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is that this is 'a Christian play about a pagan world'. 1 Setting the scene in an age-old pagan time, Shakespeare traces the progress of a foolish man towards the attainment of wisdom—and the wisdom Shakespeare has in mind is the kind of wisdom he himself values most highly. That is the wisdom of Christianity. In anachronistically echoing words of Holy Writ, and words of particular significance in Christianity, Shakespeare knows what he is doing. He is virtually saying—this is the kind of wisdom that all men, at all times, should strive to attain. He means this play to be of universal significance; it is not a period piece. Cordelia symbolizes a set of values;' but at the same time she is a human being, a person in the play. There are critics who feel disposed to blame her somewhat in the first scene. Surely, they think, she is, a little too blunt— surely her afFection for her father might have led her to pardon his error, and to humour him a little. On her stark 'Nothing, my lord' Coleridge comments 2 —'There is something of disgust at the ruthless hypocrisy of her sisters, and some little faulty admixture of pride and sullenness in Cordelia's "Nothing".' In our own day, the late George Gordon has reproved Cordelia in kindly fashion.3 He speaks of the barbarous idea,, entertained by some of the characters, that 'Age is unnecessary' : and he says, 'Even Cordelia, if I may dare to say it, sinned a little from youth—simply from not properly understanding the feelings—or, if you like, the weakness—of Age She has "l'esprit geometrique", and will not play the old man's game. "So young, my Lord, and true", needs some interpreting. True she was, but—oh!—so young!' This is a humane attitude, courteously and gently expressed. 1 J. C. Maxwell, M.L.R. XLV (1950), 142. 2 I quote from Furness, note adloc; cf. Raysor, I, 60-1. 3 See his Shakespearian Comedy (1944), p. 122.
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Yet does it not, and still more what Coleridge hints of pride and sullenness', misunderstand completely the situation in which she stands, misinterpret the very tones of her voice? When Kent protests a little later, Thy youngest daughter does not love thee least} Nor are those empty hearted whose low sounds Reverb no hollowness, he is clearly comparing the subdued, almost whispered, tones of Cordelia's reply to Lear with the brazen speeches of her sisters. For no one can suppose that she liked answering her father in this way or did not realize that she was putting him to shame. T h e agony was that she had to: he left her no choice. She was of course disgusted by Goneril and Regan's hypocrisy but not surprised: she knew them well. What afflicted her was that the father to whom she was devoted asked her to sell her soul, to purchase a kingdom by coining the love she bore him into words of flattery so as to outbid her sisters. I will not praise that purpose not to sell1 declared her creator finding himself in a predicament somewhat similar though, we may guess, far less distressing. For she was a young girl, the youngest of three daughters in an age when all unmarried daughters were little more than bond-slaves of their fathers; her father, who had never known his will thwarted, sat in majesty upon his throne; and she had to make her declaration, before the whole court. And so when she heard the outrageous question What can you say to draw A third more opulent than your sisters? even though she knew it was coming, what other possible reply could she give than a low voiced 'Nothing' ? She could not heave her heart into her mouth. 1
Sonnet 21,1. 14.
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But the warmth of the love she was unable to express might have been felt had Lear the open heart to detect it. Good my lord, You have begot me, bred me, loved me. I Return those duties back as are right fit, Obey you, love you, and most honour you. The balance between 'begot—bred—loved' and 'obey -—love—honour' is no mere rhetorical trick. I cannot think that any intelligent authority on prosody, commenting on the last of these lines, a very beautiful line, could fail to note the deep emotion it evinces. The efFect of its component parts is cumulative. 'Obey you' is succeeded by a slight pause: 'love you' is succeeded by a slight pause: 'and most honour you' is in its second and third syllables long drawn out, intensely, and so honestly! Her dwelling on 'most', disturbing the strict parallelism of verbs noted a moment ago, is significant. If Lear cannot hear the difference between this and the spurious showmanship of Goneril and Regan, it is he, and not Cordelia, who is at fault. And the whole design of the play bears this out. On both the naturalistic and the symbolic level Cordelia stands vindicated at the start as at the end. Truth speaks with 'a still small voice*, whose low sounds Reverb no hollowness. And at the end of the play Lear tells us: her voice was ever soft, Gentle and low, an excellent thing in woman. The verbal echo is significant. After education by suffering, Lear can see that what he rejected was the last thing in the world that he should have rejected. In Cordelia there is nowhere any fault.
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In I. I Cordelia knows that Lear is rejecting the true and accepting the false. She also knows, or at least clearly suspects, that what he is doing will in all probability turn out to his disadvantage as regards his own worldly prosperity and physical welfare. To her sisters she says, 'I know you what you are'. If she stood within her father's favour she 'would prefer him to a better place*. 'Love well our father,' she tells them; To your professed bosoms I commit him. The implication in 'professed' is clear. Now the Earl of Kent shows the same two-sided awareness ofLear's folly. He knows that Lear's youngest daughter does not love him least. He knows that the words of Goneril and Regan are hollow. He knows, that is, that Lear, with his lack of sound judgement, is rejecting the true and accepting the false. At the same time he knows that Lear is being foolish on the level of practical prudence. He begs him to 'reserve (his) state'. Lear is running his head into a noose. Lear threatens Kent with death. Kent retorts that he does not fear to lose his life, 'thy safety being motive'. He knows that Lear's 'safety' is threatened by his actions in this first scene, and he wants Lear to be safe. Kent's perspicacity, as regards both morality and prudence, is similar to Cordelia's; and that we should think of the two characters as standing for the same values is underlined by the fact that a certain pair of antithetical key-words is applied to them both in this tremendous opening scene. Cordelia certainly speaks with 'plainness', and Lear takes this as 'pride'. Kent declares that, when majesty stoops to folly, 'to plainness honour's bound', and Lear thinks that Kent shows
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'strained pride'. Both are 'plain'; Lear thinks of both as exhibiting 'pride'. Moreover, when Lear says Let pride, which she calls plainness, marry her, the attentive reader pr spectator realizes that Cordelia has never actually used the word 'plainness', whereas Kent has! Shakespeare associates Cordelia and Kent so closely in his mind that he can write as if he were confusing them. I have spoken of Cordelia as a Christ-like figure. Inasmuch as Kent, wrongly cast out by Lear, is irresistibly impelled by his love to humble himself, adopting a lowly disguise, in order to protect and help the man who had rejected him, we may think of him too as having a Christ-like quality. Like Cordelia, Kent may perhaps be accused by some of a fault in not having humoured the weakness of age in his master. Admittedly, he speaks very directly to Lear. Should he not have pruned his terms a little, in. deference to the human frailty of a beloved sovereign? I cannot believe that Shakespeare means us to think in this way. Not only are the things that Kent says true and wise: it is also quite clear that everything he says in this first scene is prompted by devotion to Lear's physical, as Well as moral and spiritual, welfare. And by the end of the play Lear has learned that Kent was quite right in what he said. Just as Lear's reconciliation at the end with the Cordelia whom he had rejected at the start is imaginatively emphasized by the repetition of the word 'low' with reference to her voice ( i . 1.147; 5. 3. 273), so we find emphasized by other verbal echoes that, through his suffering, Lear learns the wisdom that Kent had at the beginning. At 1. 1. 145 Kent cries out— What -wouldst thou do, old man? Lear is king, and Kent has always honoured him as such (1.1.139). But, readily and properly admitting Lear's
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pre-eminence, Kent knows at the outset (as Lear at this stage does not) that Lear, while king, is also man—and old, and fallible. Much later, at 4. 7. 59ff.,in the scene in which he tries to kneel before Cordelia, Lear says— Pray do not mock mej 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. After much torture, mental and physical, he has come to realize (what Kent knew at the start) that he is an 'old man'. And that his echo of Kent's phrase is significant, and no accident, is attested by his words 'And, to deal plainly,': for in 1.1 Kent spoke with a 'plainness' which displeased his as yet uneducated master. So did Cordelia. And in 4. 7 Lear speaks words which by their echo suggest to us.that he now realizes that not only Cordelia, but also Kent, was right at the outset.1 V. The Fool Kent realizes that Lear's behaviour results in a condition of topsyturvydom at the court. The normal moral order is inverted. T o succeed here one has to be false; if true, one is ejected. Those who value the normal moral order *will invariably find the atmosphere of this court disagreeable. The state of inversion is suggested by the pattern of Kent's words as he says ( 1 . 1. 180)— Freedom lives hence and banishment is here. These words bring us to the third of the important characters who at the start have wisdom where Lear is foolish. This is the Fool. He first enters in 1.4, and almost immediately we have him saying: 'Why, this fellow has banished two on's daughters, and did the third a blessing against his will.' 1
For the dying Kent see notes at 5. 3, 234, 280.
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The Fool was not present in r. i. By making him nevertheless echo i. i. 180, Shakespeare shows us right away that the Fool and Kent are to be grouped together as wise where Lear is foolish. And the Christian theme is relevant again, for, as Professor Heilman reminds us,1 Miss Welsford, in her book The Fool, 'stresses the Christian quality of fool literature, and in her discussion of the Fool in Lear she constantly refers to Christianity'. Like Cordelia and Kent, the Fool realizes the double nature of Lear's error. Again and again he directs attention to both aspects of it in riddling utterances pregnant with meaning. There are so many passages which could be quoted to illustrate this that one hardly knows which to choose. On the practical level Lear has endangered his own welfare: He that keeps nor crust nor crumb, Weary of all, shall want some.. (r. 4. 198-9) Lear has given away the 'crumb' of his loaf (the bread inside the crust), that is, the government of the kingdom and the material resources connected with it. He wants to keep the 'crust'—'the name and all th'addition to a king'. But the Fool sees that, having given away the one, Lear cannot keep the other, his daughters being what they are. Lear has really given away both crust and crumb, and he will starve. Over and over again the Fool utters his wisdom with brilliant virtuosity. His criticism of the king's folly is sometimes hard and biting; he can be contemptuous and derisive. Yet we always know that affectionate loyalty to Lear is the mainspring of his being. If here, or there, he mocks Lear in a way that may seem cruel, he is nevertheless always trying to teach a beloved master who has erred and thus endangered both body and soul. And we 1
Op. cit. p. 331,
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often feel that a sense of profound sorrow underlies his thrusting witticisms. Miss Welsford speaks of the Fool's 'tactless jokes and snatches of song' as springing 'evidently from genuine grief'.1 She continues: 'The sorrow underlying his shrewd sarcasm rises to the surface when he interrupts Goneril's plausible scolding to give us a sudden glimpse of the horror lurking behind an apparently ludicrous situation'—and she quotes this passage (with minor textual differences): For you know, nuncle, The hedge-sparrow fed the cuckoo so long That it had it head bit off by it young. So out went the candle, and we were left darkling. (i. 4. 215-18)
Goneril and Regan, whom Lear has fostered and enriched, are going to destroy him in the end. The Fool knows this long before Lear himself realizes what is happening. The Fool is shrewd; but he is also terrified. 'Out went the candle, and we were left darkling.' Lear's folly has produced afigurativedarkness in the kingdom, and darkness can be very frightening. Is there any horror greater than that experienced by a child at night if his candle goes out and he is left alone in the dark ? It is horror of this kind that Lear's folly has brought down upon those who love and honour him. The Fool follows Lear out into the storm because the wicked daughters will not harbour him—because he loves Lear—because he wants to continue to teach him— because he wants to comfort him (he 'labours to out-jest' the king's 'heart-struck injuries'). But, paradoxically, he follows him out into the storm for another reason also. The Fool needs Lear, is totally dependent on him. No matter how well-versed in both true morality and Worldly wisdom, no matter how hard-boiled, this com1
See her book The fool (1935), p. 254.
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plex character is also, paradoxically, a virtual child who, in a world that he sees as hostile to him and with which he cannot grapple By himself, is afraid to be left alone by 'nuncle'. There is a pathetic urgency in his cry, 'Nuncle Lear, nuncle Lear! Tarry; take the fool with thee* ( i . 4. 316). He does not want to be left alone in the dark. Like a child, he depends entirely on the trusted guardian who loves him but sometimes punishes him. What a remarkable character this Fool is!—at once acutely sane and pathetically childish. He is, of course, a Shakespearian development of a well-enough known character-type in Elizabethan and Jacobean literature—' the 'licensed' court fool. But what a transformation Shakespeare makes here! And if it is difficult for us, thinking naturalistically, to accept the notion of a childish half-wit teaching a king true values, may we not think that Shakespeare wants us to remember the song of the Psalmist, who, addressing his God, says 'Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings hast thou ordained strength because of thine enemies, that thou mightest still the enemy and the avenger'? He is a 'wise fool'; but we are not necessarily meant to take everything he says as right. It is risky, as Professor Danby does, to speak of the limitations of the Fool's wisdom.1 Thus when, on his first appearance, he gibes at Kent as foolish 'for taking one's part that's out of favour', he is using worldly wisdom to point o.ut to Lear how dangerous it has now become to lend him any service. Again: when, in the midst of the storm, he begs Lear to go back indoors and ask blessing of his daughters, he is offering common-sense advice: but at the same time emphasizing the hopelessness of Lear's position, since to take the advice is now not only out of the question but wrong, since it would mean submitting 1
See his Shakespeare's Doctrine of Nature: a Study of 'King Lear' (1949), pp. 102-13, especially pp. 109-10.
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to evil, spiritual degradation. Thus rather than saying the Fool's wisdom has its limitations, it would be more accurate to say that the Fool's task is to try to show the king that he has been guilty of error in two quite separate categories, material and spiritual. His criticism oscillates from the one to the other. And one cannot avoid the impression that the Fool knows well enough that the one category is, sub specie aeternitatis, more important than the other. The Fool is Lear's tutor. But at the end of 3. 6, with the storm raging, the Fool vanishes from our sight for ever. Shakespeare simply drops him. Why ? Consider the dialogue at this point. Lear has gone mad, and, towards the end of 3. 6—that tremendous scene— he is asked by Kent to rest. 'Make no noise,' he replies, 'Make no noise; draw the curtains. So, so; we'll go to supper i'th'morning.' But the Fool then utters his very last words: And I'll go to bed at noon. In his insanity Lear says something which is absurd. One goes to supper in the evening, not in the morning. Lear, in his madness, has inverted ridiculously. That is one significance. But there is another as well. Lear inverts. Now the Fool, his tutor, has been continually uttering what we may call inversion-statements, enigmatically or ironically emphasizing the foolishness of what Lear has done. Lear is as one who bears his ass over the dirt: he makes daughters into mothers—the father gives the rod into the hands of his children and takes down his own breeches (an inversion not only ludicrous but obscene). The Fool's inversion-utterances are an essential symptom of his wisdom. But now, tortured and driven mad by the storm, Lear himself can give us an inversion-phrase—'We'll go to supper i'th'morning'. He is now able to speak in an idiom that has been used
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by the Fool all along. The Fool can do no more now than add a cap to Lear's own remark. In the dramatic design, the tutor-Fool is no longer required; and Shakespeare boldly dispenses with him. The royal pupil has not learned fully yet—he has a long way to go: but one of his teachers has now succeeded, up to a point; is no longer dramatically necessary; and must be dropped— for, in a drama so intense as this one, the presence of an otiose character would handicap the author. And in the theatre—or in the study, as we read, enthralled, at top speed—the absence of the Fool in the later stages of the play is hardly noticed, if at all. Our minds are on other things. It is a stroke of dramatic economy.
VI. Lear's Suffering When Cordelia justifies her answer to her father in. 1.1 she may be said to be trying to teach him. The outspoken Kent tries to teach him. The Fool is continually trying to teach him. But his most effective teacher is Suffering. Through suffering, Lear learns wisdom and attains salvation. He learns to be patient under affliction. He learns that, though king, he is also man. He learns repentance, humility, and charitable fellow-feeling with, even the lowest of distressed humanity. He learns his lessons slowly. Often, in the process, he advances and then relapses. Thus, at 1.1. i he knows nothing of patience. By 2. 4. 267 he is able to cry— You heavens, give me patience—patience I need! But he immediately goes on to reject the idea ofpatience, and, apostrophizing the gods, says— 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.
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And in a second or two he is raving furiously—and impotently. At 3. 2. 35 he says, 'No, I will be the pattern of all patience.' The lesson is not yet fully learned. He is still going to behave extravagantly. And at 3. 6. 57 Kent has to reprove him, affectionately— Sir, where is the patience now That you so oft have boasted to retain? The play has reached a late stage when the mad Lear says to the blinded Gloucester, 'Thou must be patient' (4.6.177). By now the lesson has been sufficiently well learned for him to be able to preach it to a fellowsufferer. His feet are on the right road. The idea of the attainment of spiritual health through the patient endurance of suffering is both Stoic and Christian. It has been suggested that there are Stoic elements in this play. Thus Professor Oscar James Campbell1 speaks of Lear as 'a completely unstoical man' who 'is converted to a state of mind which is a mixture of Stoic insight and Christian humility'. 'Furthermore,' he adds, 'the methods by which his conversion and redemption are accomplished are similar to those advocated by the great Stoic philosophers.' But in the end Professor Campbell concludes that 'Lear's purgatorial experiences result in a form of salvation more Christian than Stoical'. Lear's real redemption comes about 'when he awakens from the delusions of his frenzied mind to discover Cordelia and her unselfish enduring love'. The critic goes on:. The mere sight of her kills 'the great rage' in him, the unstoical emotional turmoil from which all his sins and suffering have sprung. Now he is calmly receptive to the healing power of Christian love. For he has not arrived at utter indifference to external events, at that complete 1
See his article 'The Salvation of Lear' in The Journal
of English Literary History, XV (June 1948), 93-109.
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freedom from emotion, the disease of the intellect, which produces true stoic content. On the contrary Lear finds his peace in an active emotion—in all-absorbing love. That it is which at last renders him independent of circumstance. One may be tempted to wonder whether Professor Campbell need have brought in Stoicism at all. Professor John F. Danby1 suggests that 'what has often been taken for Stoicism in Shakespeare is not Stoicism at all but rather the orthodox teaching on Christian Patience'. Stoic patience is, as Professor Danby states, 'an impassive withstanding of all that conflicts with Reason. At best it is indifference, at worst unfeelingness.' Christian patience is 'based on faith and suffering charity. It expresses the sum of the Christian virtues. Its supreme example is the activity of Christ dying on the Cross.' Stoic patience eliminates feeling; Christian patience essentially involves feeling. At the end of the play the regenerated Lear has not become impervious to feeling; on the contrary he has become capable of a self-abnegation which springs from an awareness of what love and charity really are. As, under his grievous afflictions, Lear learns how to be patient, he learns other lessons too. And from time to time Shakespeare—surely deliberately—reminds us of Christian truth. Coming to realize how terribly wrong he had been in his past life, Lear is able to say, at 4.6.96 ff. They flattered me like a dog, and told me I had the white hairs in my beard ere the black ones were there. To say 'ay' and 'no' to everything that I said! 'Ay,' and 'no' too, was no good divinity. It was not good theology, because—I quote Professor Muir's note—'it went against the biblical injunction, James, ch. v, verse 12: "But let your yea be yea; and 1
See his article 'King Lear and Christian Patience' in The Cambridge Journal, 1, no. 5 (February 1948), 305-20.
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your nay, nay, lest ye fall into condemnation.'" The sense of common humanity that Lear acquires expresses itselfin a rebuke uttered to an imaginary beadle thrashing an imaginary whore: Thou rascal beadle, hold thy bloody hand! Why dost thou lash that whore ? Strip thy own back} Thou hotly lusts to use her in that kind For which thou whipp'st her. (4. 6. 159-62)
"We cannot hear or read these words without recalling the words of Christ to those who spoke to him of how, according to the law, the woman taken in adultery should be stoned: ' H e that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her' (St John viii, 7); and we remember also the first verse of the second chapter of the Epistle to the Romans—'Therefore thou art inexcusable, O man, whosoever thou art that judgest: for wherein thou judgest another, thou condemnest thyself; for thou that judgest doest the same things.' Lear's sufferings reach their climax in the storm, and the storm is the heart of the play. Its faint beginnings are to be found in the old play of Leir. Here a 'Messenger or murtherer' is instructed by Ragan to kill Leir and Perillus (=Kent). He is about to do so. Leir and Perillus try to dissuade him. Perillus describes to him the pains of hell, and at that moment 'it thunders'. The messenger 'quakes, and lets fall the Dagger'. Leir and Perillus are saved. In the source-play, then, we have thunder and lightning which would appear to be the voice of the Divine intervening to save Leir and his friend: on a lower level, it serves as a mechanical device to keep alive a hero destined to survive and to repossess his crown. This thunder and lightning Shakespeare transforms into his own mighty tempest, which has much more remarkable dramatic functions. The dis-
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harmony that has been produced in the world of men is reflected in the world of the physical elements. The turmoil in the mind of Lear himself is reflected in the world of the physical elements. And the storm too is Lear's tutor. Lear's journey towards enlightenment begins before the storm. But it is not until his sufferings have reached a climax in the storm, when he is driven insane, that we feel really confident that he is ultimately going to reach the spiritual goal. This is a great central paradox, rightly stressed by Professor Heilman. At the start Lear was, literally speaking, sane; but his folly was great enough to be spoken of by Kent as 'madness'—'Be Kent unmannerly when Lear is mad' ( i . I. 144-5). But when he goes completely mad in the storm he is certainly on the way to true wisdom; he can speak 'reason in madness'. ' Reason in Madness' is the title of one of Professor Heilman's most important chapters. But perhaps the phrase should be slightly modified. It is an amazing moment when Lear, in his madness, expresses his lately acquired awareness of the humanity common to himself and to the lowest of the low. At 3.4.106-9; hailing 'poor Tom' as 'the thing itself he continues: Unaccommodated man is no more but such a poor, bare, forked animal as thou art. Off, off, you lendings! Come, unbutton here! And he begins to tear offhis clothes, an action that symbolizes part of his new-found wisdom. But there is another way of looking at it. 'Prithee, nuncle, be contented,' says the Fool; "tis a naughty night to swim in!'—words which must surely raise a nervous titter in the theatre. There is an element of grotesque comedy about it—a point well made by Professor Wilson Knight.1 If Lear's See The Wheel of fire (1930)51937 reprint, pp. 175 ff.
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conduct here indicates that he has learned an important lesson, it is also, from another point of view, crazy. And once again we must mention a significant verbal echo. Attention has been drawn to it by Professor Kirschbaum.1 At the end of the play we have one of the most poignant episodes ever written by Shakespeare or anyone else. Lear has the dead Cordelia in his arms. 'Thou'lt come no more,' he says,— Never, never, never, never, never. And then he turns to a bystander— Pray you, undo this button. Thank you, sir. He feels suffocated, and needs help—he cannot undo the button at his throat and loosen his clothing. We are touched by the gentle courtesy of his words. This is a tone of which he was incapable at the start. Now 'undo this button' echoes the 'Come, unbutton here!' which he shouted out in the storm ( 3 . 4 . 109). At the later point Shakespeare deliberately reminds us of the earlier point, and enables us to make a contrast. When he cries 'Come, unbutton here!' Lear has attained a knowledge of truth, but he is frenzied and is, moreover, dramatizing himself. When he says 'Pray you, undo this button. Thank you, sir', he has the knowledge of the same truth, but he is quiet and humble. Thus Shakespeare subtly suggests to us that Lear learns full wisdom, comes to full spiritual regeneration, not in madness but through madness. The lessons he learns in the storm have their full effect only when he regains his sanity, towards the end.
VII. The Sub-Plot This play, unlike Shakespeare's other tragedies, has a fully-developed sub-plot; and the sub-plot furnishes, not a contrast with the main plot, but a parallel to it. As if to 1 Review of English Studies, xxv (1949), 153-4.
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indicate at the outset that this is going to be so, Shakespeare strikingly echoes near the beginning of the subplot a word that has been impressively used near the beginning of the main plot. The word 'nothing' links the two at the start, suggesting that they are, as it were, going to be in the same key. In Lear's interrogation of Cordelia the word 'nothing' is emphasized unforgetably. In i . 2, when Gloucester enters to the villainous Edmund, we have this: Gloucester. What paper were you reading? Edmund. Nothing, my lord. Gloucester. 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. Not only is this connected with I. i by means of 'nothing'. We also remember how in 1.1 Kent adjured Lear to 'see better'. Ocular vision symbolizes moral vision.1 Lear and Gloucester are both, at the start, morally and spiritually blind. Lear needs to 'see better'; Gloucester does indeed 'need spectacles'. The two plots reinforce each other in a remarkable manner. Lear lacks sound judgement at the start; so does Gloucester. Lear rejects the loving daughter and cleaves to the false ones; Gloucester rejects the loving son and cleaves to the false one. Both fathers bring dire suffering on themselves through their own folly. At the same time, both are the victims of dynamic evil, existing outside themselves, and bringing itself to bear upon, them. Both are assisted in their sufferings by those whom they have wronged, Edgar being as full ofloving forgiveness as Kent and Cordelia are. Both Lear and Gloucester learn wisdom through suffering, and achieve 1
See Heilman, op. cit. p. 25 and passim on 'the sight pattern*.
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spiritual salvation. The wisdom that each learns is essentially the same. Like Lear, Gloucester comes to sympathize with the downtrodden, who are as much human as the rich and powerful are. Gloucester in his misery cries out to the heavens— 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. (4. i. 66 ff.)
This reminds us of Lear's words in the storm— Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are, .That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm, .How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides, Your looped and windowed raggedness, defend you From seasons such as these? O, I have ta'en Too little care of this! Take physic, pomp; Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel, That thou mayst shake the superflux to them And show the heavens more just. (3. 4. 28 ff.)
We note the parallel between Gloucester's 'superfluous' and Lear's 'superflux'. Again: like Lear, Gloucester in his torment learns the value of patience. He resolves on suicide, and asks 'Tom o' Bedlam' to conduct him to a cliff-top. For Gloucester's own good, Edgar deceives him. Then Edgar describes to Gloucester, fictitiously, how he—Edgar—had from below watched Gloucester with a fiend beside him on the cliff. The suggestion in this invention is that Gloucester was being tempted to suicide by a devil of hell (as indeed,figuratively,we may say he was—it working within his mind). The gods have preserved Gloucester. So Edgar tells him; and Gloucester accepts this, and resolves henceforth to 'bear affliction'. Through Edgar's benign deception Gloucester's soul is rescued. And Shakespeare would seem to be asking us to think in terms of Christianity: for we can
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hardly help recalling the temptation of Christ by the DevilThen the devil taketh him up into the holy city, and setteth him on a pinnacle of the temple. And saith unto him, If thou be the Son of God, cast thyself down.... Again, the devil taketh him up into an exceeding high mountain.... (St Matthew iv. $-6, 8)
The biblical circumstances are quite different from those of Lear. It is no case of close parallelism. Nevertheless, the mere fact that, in a play with so many other scriptural references, Edgar's fiction is of Gloucester being tempted by a fiend to cast himself down from a height to his destruction, makes us conscious of a Christian atmosphere enveloping Gloucester as he learns patience. It is certainly Christian, not Stoic, patience that he learns; for he dies a man who assuredly has not abrogated emotionBu( . ^ flawed h e a r t (Alack, too weak the conflict to support) 'Twixt two extremes of passion, joy and grief, Burst smilingly. (5. 3. 195-8)
There are similarities between the story of Gloucester and that of Lear. There are also obvious differences. Thus, for instance, the fact that Edmund exists at all is a result of sin in Gloucester—and his jesting about it in the opening passage of the play may well prejudice some against him. Now in his book The Dream of Learning Mr D. G. James says this (p. 93): There is a feature of Lear's personality which has always impressed me and which I cannot fail to feel is at the centre of Shakespeare's intention in this play. It is the sense, which Lear frequently conveys, that the source of his children's evil is in himself, we recall Lear saying, for example, Judicious punishment! 'Twas this flesh begot Those pelican daughters. (3. 4. 73~4) N.S.K.L. - 3
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But I cannot think that Shakespeare wants us to take this too seriously. If Lear begot the evil daughters, and if therefore the existence of their wickedness is his fault, he also begot the virtuous daughter, whose moral beauty must, by the same token, be put to his credit. I cannot form the impression that Shakespeare wants us to regard the play as involving an allegory in which the good and evil elements that fight against each other in the individual are made objective in the two types of children. Such a contention might be defended, no doubt: but more plausibly, surely, in the case of the Gloucester family; for Edmund, unlike Goneril and Regan, is illegitimate. Here is a patent difference between the two plots. Gloucester has sinned in a way in which Lear has not. Yet even so, I doubt if we are meant to make too much of this delinquency in Gloucester. Taking the play as a whole, we cannot doubt that Gloucester is more sinned against than sinning. Shakespeare's management of main plot and underplot together is masterly. Circumstantial differences between the two provide the interest of contrast, at the same time as essential similarities make more emphatic the complex 'message' of the play. We have seen that at the start the sane Lear was really mad, and that when he goes mad in the literal sense he may in earnest be said to have begun to speak wisely. Professor Heilman notes this paradox, and also the corresponding paradox in the case of Gloucester. At the start Gloucester could see with his eyes, but he lacked full mental, moral, and spiritual vision. It is when he loses his eyes, in the literal sense, that he begins to attain this fundamental vision. The two paradoxes correspond. And they are specifically related to each other. In I. I Shakespeare, through Kent, presents Lear's folly in two ways. Lear is sane, but he behaves madly; Lear has eyes, but he is spiritually myopic. Subsequently Shakespeare
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allocates the 'sight pattern' (in Heilman's phrase) to the Gloucester story, and the 'madness pattern' to the Lear story. But, recalling i. i, we realize all the time that the two amount to the same thing. And just as Lear learns his wisdom gradually, so does Gloucester. After he has learned patience, Gloucester is, as Professor Danby points out, 'constantly in danger of relapse... Edgar has to rally him: What, in ill thoughts again ? Men must endure Their going hence, even as their coming hither; Ripeness is all.' (5. 2. 9-11) Gloucester has to be reminded, even at this late stage—• though he is in no desperate state, for he can immediately reply, And that's true too. But he did have to be reminded. The two plots, then, despite differences between them which lend independent interest to each, are the same in fundamental significance; and Shakespeare interweaves them with powerful effect, as, for instance, in the tremendous episode in 4. 6 where the mad Lear encounters the blinded Gloucester near Dover.
VIII. 'Nature* One of the most important words in the play is the word 'Nature'; and this is a drama concerning the conflict between two opposing conceptions of what that word means. To some of the characters 'Nature' is a benign force, binding all created things together in their true relationships. 'Nature' in this sense implies that each created thing is by all others readily allowed the privileges belonging to its particular position in the universal hierarchy, while, for its own part, it readily accepts its obligations. 'Nature' in this sense involves harmonious
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co-existence, co-operation, loyalty, affection, selflimitation in due degree. In 'Nature' in this sense Cordelia believes, and Kent, and Edgar. Lear and Gloucester believe in it too. In the opening scene, admittedly, Lear's understanding of it is imperfect, as is shown by Cordelia when she says Why have my sisters husbands, if they say They love you all? Part of Lear's initial folly is that he fails to understand all the implications of the principle that he himself fundamentally values. When, however, on hisfirstappear ance, Edmund says Thou, Nature, art my goddess j to thy law My services are bound, he is using 'Nature' in a quite different sense. To him (and also to Goneril, Regan, and Cornwall) 'Nature' is a force encouraging the individual to think only of the fulfilment of his own desires—to work only for his own success, even if that involves him in trampling others (perhaps his own flesh and blood) under foot. The antithesis is between a loving sense of right relationship and a ruthless claim to spiritual isolationism—individualism of a heartless kind. Various critics in recent years, working independently, have shown the cardinal importance in King Lear of the conflict between 'the two Natures'. Dr Edwin Muir and Professor R. C. Bald have made contributions here, the former in a lecture delivered in the University of Glasgow in 1946,1 the latter in an essay published in the Adams Memorial Studies, 1948 (pp. 337 iF.). In Professor Heilman's book the chapter entitled 'Hear, Nature, Hear' is illuminating. And a 1
'The Politics of King Lear'—The seventh W. P. Ker Memorial Lecture (Glasgow, 1947), in pamphlet form.
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vitally important study of the matter is contained in Professor Danby's book Shakespeare's Doctrine of Nature: a Study of''King Lear' (1949). Relating the play to the philosophical thought of the time, Professor Danby speaks of 'The Benignant Nature of Bacon, Hooker, and Lear', and o f ' T h e Malignant Nature of Hobbes, Edmund, and the Wicked Daughters'. The conception of benignant Nature, briefly described above, agrees with and is part of the traditional 'world picture' which Dr Tillyard, the late Theodore Spencer, and others have described.1 Shakespeare lived at a time which saw new conceptions attacking traditional conceptions, and which saw the latter fighting back. This conflict is mirrored in King Lear, and in other Shakespeare plays as well. In the course of the lecture to which I have referred, Dr Edwin Muir spoke of the Dissolution of the Monasteries, which was completed in 1539, and of the' execution of Charles I, which took place in 1649. And he spoke of how, in the interval, 'the medieval world with its communal tradition was slowly dying, and the modern individualist world was bringing itself to birth'. ' Shakespeare,' he went on, 'lived in that violent period of transition. The old world still echoed in his ears; he was aware of the new as we are aware of the future....' Edmund is 'the mouthpiece of the new generation'.* Professor Danby likewise emphasizes this antithesis in King Lear between the old values and those of the 'new man'. He has no doubt that Shakespeare intends us to take Edmund to be a villain. But, while stressing this, he appears to be greatly impressed by the sureness, the conviction, with which Shakespeare draws Edmund, and to be impressed also by certain 1
Tillyard, The Elizabethan World Picture (1943)} Spencer, Shakespeare and the Nature of Man (1943). a Op. cit. pp. 7, 12.
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characteristics in Edmund which make him, despite his villany, somewhat engaging. 'Edmund,' says Professor Danby,1 'is the New Man. Shakespeare's understanding of the type is so extensive as to amount to real sympathy. The insight comes, I think, from Shakespeare's being in part a New Man himself. This would account for the colour and charm with which he always invests the figure.' Professor Danby speaks of 'the attractiveness of the portrait', though in almost the same breath he speaks of Edmund as 'a Shakespearian villain'. The modern mind may be inclined to feel that there is something to be said in extenuation of Edmund's wickedness. Society victimizes him for his bastardy, but his bastardy is not his own fault. Is he not, it may be asked, to some extent driven to his viUany by the inhumanity of a traditional social view which looks askance at a man because of his father's sin ? And is there not an admirable courage about him as, by his own efforts— however mistaken his methods—he strives to set the balance right? I cannot myself believe that Shakespeare was thinking in these terms. What may be discerned in Edmund of gallantry, or gaiety, or individualistic bravery, seems to me to be presented all the time in a sinister light. The wickedness of which he is guilty from the very start is far in excess of anything that the most lenient modem judgement could excuse him on account of his 'Why bastard ? wherefore base ?' He is cynical, cold-blooded, cruel, treacherous, inhuman. The flourish of bravado merely adds to the sinister impression. And the disadvantages of bastardy are not his only motive. He is a younger son who determines to seize by sheer treachery the rights that belong to an elder son—cutting at the roots of that normal law of succession which is an essential part of'the Elizabethan World Picture', and 1
Shakespeare's Doctrine of Nature, pp. 48, 50.
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which is upheld in all of Shakespeare's plays. At the end, to be sure, Edmund is allowed a last-minute repentance which is denied to Goneril and Regan. But any critic who takes this as suggesting that Shakespeare was rather fond of Edmund must allow that the repentance indicates that what Edmund had previously thoughtand done was evil: at the end Shakespeare, through Edmund's repentance, repudiates what Edmund has thought and done. In the clash between the old and the new, Shakespeare is certainly on the side of the old. IX. Man's Double Nature In the universal hierarchy which the traditional scheme envisaged, man is situated between angel and animal. The best that is in him approximates him to the angelic: we recall Hamlet's 'how like an angel', and we remember that Lear, wise after suffering, calls Cordelia 'a soul in bliss'. The worst that is in man approximates him to the animal. He has a double nature: But to the girdle do the gods inherit; Beneath is all the fiend's. (4. 6. 126-7) He has free will. He may choose to give the higher part of his being the leading role in the drama of his life, or he may choose to give that role to the lower part. Again and again Shakespeare, thinking in terms of the traditional scheme, makes his characters apply animal terms to Goneril and Regan. I quote A. C. Bradley:1 Goneril is a kite: her ingratitude has a serpent's tooth: she has struck her father most serpent-like upon the very heart: her visage is wolvish: she has tied sharp-toothed unkindness like a vulture on her father's breast: for her husband she is a gilded serpent: to Gloster her cruelty seems to have the fangs of a boar. She and Regan are dog-hearted: they are 1
Shakespearean Tragedy (1904), p . 267.
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tigers, not daughters: each is an adder to the other: the flesh of each is covered with the fell of a beast As we read, the souls of all the beasts in turn seem to us to have entered the bodies of these mortals; horrible in their venom, savagery, lust, deceitfulness, sloth, cruelty, filthiness....
When Edgar, play-acting destitution and crazed wits, pretends that in his past life he has been evil, he attaches an animal name to each of his delinquencies: he has been hog in sloth, fox in stealth, wolf in greediness, dog in madness, lion in prey. (3. 4. 92-3) Evil in this play is conceived in terms of horrible bestiality, as it is in Othello also. X. The Play's 'Pessimism' What, as Shakespeare sees it in King Lear, is the relationship between mankind and the power or powers which govern the universe? We hear much in the play about astrology. That man's fate lies not in his own keeping but under the control of the stars was, of course, a commonly held medieval view: it is part of an old-established tradition which, as we see in 1. 2, Gloucester accepts. Edmund, the 'new man', rejects it. In the essay in the Adams Memorial Studies to which I have referred, Professor Bald deals excellently with Shakespeare's probable attitude to Gloucester's and Edmund's views. Acknowledging indebtedness to Professor D. C. Allen, Professor Bald speaks of Shakespeare's attitude— While he would have hesitated to deny that the stars could affect men's lives, there is nothing to suggest that he had so much faith in their influence as to deny the freedom of the will. Free-will is of the essence of tragedy, which cannot exist under determinism, and astrology is only a crude form
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of determinism. As an explanation of the tragic mystery, the inadequacy of Kent's It is the stars, The stars above us, govern our conditions is patent even in the play in which it occurs.1 And, as Professor Danby says,2 'belief or disbelief in astrology was not in the sixteenth century definitive of orthodoxy'. If we maintain—as I am sure we must— that Shakespeare is not in this play conceiving of any character as star-crossed, this does not necessarily imply that he is in sympathy with the views of the 'new man'. Gloucester, in a memorable passage, says— Asfliesto wanton boys are we to th' gods; They kill us for their sport. (4. 1. 36-7) Is this the philosophy that Shakespeare wants us to take away from the theatre when the performance is over ? There are some who think it is. Thus Professor G. B. Harrison speaks3 of Shakespeare transmuting 'an old tale in which evil is punished and good restored into a tremendous and pessimistic drama, of which Gloucester's words [quoted above] form the most fitting motto'. But do they? All the evil characters are dead before the end, and we cannot but relate this to the exercise of divine justice. When Albany is told of how a servant has killed Cornwall, he exclaims— This shows you are above, You justicers, that these our nether crimes So speedily can venge! (4. 2. 78-80) There is no ground for pessimism here. The sufferings of Lear and Gloucester are terrible to 1 a
Op. cit. pp. 348-9.
Shakespeare's Doctrine of Nature, p . 37. 3 Shakespeare: 23 Plays and the Sonnets (1948), p . 781.
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behold. But before we are tempted on this score to speak of pessimistic tragedy we should do well to remember two things. First: their sufferings are to some extent, though certainly not entirely, brought about through their own errors, so that the conception of divine justice is valid here also— The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices Make instruments to plague us. (5. 3. 169-70) It is true that here the 'just' dealings of the gods make us more uneasy than does their treatment of the villains. If admittedly it was 'the dark and vicious place' where Gloucester begot Edmund that 'cost him his eyes', there is much more to be said. Gloucester has to suffer beyond his deserts, as has Lear—a common enough phenomenon amongst humanity: we sow the wind and reap the whirlwind. But, if tempted by the appalling sufferings of Lear and Gloucester to regard this as a 'pessimistic' drama, we must bear in mind a second point. The gods are merciful. If, after all their agony, Lear and Gloucester died uneducated, unregenerate, then we should indeed have to speak of pessimism. But both, as they die, are wise, and redeemed. 'Nothing is here for tears'—unless we weep for the means that conduce to the end, for the dreadful cost of the salutary outcome. We must do so; and the conclusion of the play has indeed a sober colouring. Yet the unassailable fact remains that the gods, in benignity, permit Lear and Gloucester to die in a state of spiritual health. Their sufferings are redemptive. There is no ultimate ground for pessimism here. But what of the death of Cordelia ? It troubles us all, as it troubled Dr Johnson who, in a well-known passage, declared1— 1
See Walter Raleigh, Johnson on Shakespeare (1908);
1931 impression, pp. 161-2.
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I was many years ago so shocked by Cordelia's death, that I know not whether I ever endured to read again the last scenes of the play till I undertook to revise them as an editor. The gods allow the totally innocent Cordelia to be done to death. Does not this at least, it may be asked, spell a final pessimism, even if nothing else does? I cannot think so. I have said that I think Mr Maxwell is right when he says that ' King Lear is a Christian play about a pagan world'. The author's viewpoint is Christian. Now the Christian outlook is, of course, the reverse of pessimistic. T o the Christian, God is, paradoxically, at once just, merciful, and in his dealings bewildering. Almost every day the Christian has to take account of happenings which seem to mean that God at least acquiesces in the incomprehensible destruction of the pure and good. The temptation is strong to cry out, 'Why does God allow this kind of thing—or is there a God at all?'. But the true Christian, if agonized by such things, is nevertheless unable to let them overturn his faith. God overthrows the absolutely evil—he destroys the Cornwalls, the Gonerils, the Regans: he is just. God chastens those who err but who can be regenerated—the Lears, the Gloucesters—and in mercy he redeems them: he is just, and merciful. But again, God moves in a mysterious way—he deals strangely with the Cordelias of this world. His methods are inscrutable. Shakespeare presents the whole picture—the mysterious as well as that which is plain. This, however, can mean 'pessimistic' drama only to. those who cannot agree that the play is a Christian play.
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KING LEAR XL D. G. James' View of the Play
In his distinguished book The Dream of Learning, the Vice-Chancellor of the University of Southampton adopts a different view from that which I have taken. Here and there, it is true, a sentence or two does suggest the theme of regeneration through suffering. 'Lear becomes mad in all truth,' says Mr James (p. 72); 'but he comes out of his madness a changed man.' And again, 'when the struggle in Lear is over and the true sense of life becomes clear in him, he asks forgiveness of Cordelia' (p. 74). Such sentences suggest the theme of regeneration through suffering. Yet Mr James feels that this is not the main thing. It is the suffering itself that strikes him most forcibly. ' It is not chiefly the mind of Lear we observe and study,' he says, 'but the world's savagery as it overwhelms it' (p. 7 o). ' The ending of the play is not...an end which looks on to a succeeding order and condition. Fortinbras succeeds Hamlet, Malcolm Macbeth: sanity and justice are restored. But in King Lear we are given little of the feeling of this' (p. 104). Again: 'The play seems to be designed to exhibit suffering and helpless virtue, whether it be the virtue of a Kent, the uncertain virtue of a Lear, or the transcendent virtue of an Edgar and a Cordelia. None of them may come to any happiness. Gloucester and Lear are given, before they die, and by an irony, only a kind of heartbroken joy. Kent and Edgar indeed survive; only...Kent speaks of imminent death, Edgar of death not long delayed. For them also, life may not go on' (p. 111). 'Shakespeare contrives to allow his virtuous characters as little influence on the course of events as possible; he holds them in a kind of silent and helpless suffering' (p. 114). I quote at length, because The Dream of Learning is an important book. It will be
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already clear, however, that I cannot agree with, its author's interpretation. Why does Edgar delay so long before revealing his identity to his blinded father ? Edgar acknowledges that this was a fault; but why should he have committed it? And why does Kent not reveal his identity to Lear at the beginning of the storm ? On the naturalistic plane there is no reason why these revelations should not have been made. And they would have given comfort to Lear and Gloucester. Mr James sees in the failure of Edgar and Kent to reveal themselves an indication that Shakespeare is preoccupied with a world in which the good is not allowed by the gods to intervene actively to palliate suffering. 'Against the pure wickedness of Cornwall and Edmund the beneficence of Edgar and Kent are [sic] not allowed to work with any mitigation' (p. 108). Lear and Gloucester are not granted this comfort—> of knowing who these helpers are; but they are granted a comfort—the helpers are there, and minister to them. Neither of the suffering protagonists is left alone in his agony. This is indeed some mercy. 'Solamen miseris socios habuisse doloris.' In both plots Shakespeare keeps a careful and subtle balance between providential mercy and providential disciplining. On the one hand, Lear and Gloucester are allowed to be devotedly attended; on the other hand, they can win regeneration only through purgatorial experience—their suffering must be intense—it cannot be alleviated beyond a certain point— they must not know who these attendants are until the end: but the suffering produces a happy issue. Again: in the final scene Edmund repents. Why, then, is Cordelia not saved, as, by means of this turn in the plot, she might easily have been? Perhaps the foregoing explanation is relevant here too—Lear, about to be redeemed, must suffer a Foutrance, but the redemption is at hand. Or perhaps Shakespeare, seeing life whole, in
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all its complexity, is virtually saying to us that such tragic accidents do occur through something as trivial as human forgetfulness; but faith in the ultimate triumph of good remains nevertheless. Speaking of Othello and of Lear, Dr Tillyard1—in my view rightly—claims that a 'new order' is established at the end of both. 'True,' he says,' the new order is cut short in both plays, but its creation is an essential part of the tragic pattern.' It is enough for Shakespeare to hint at this new order. His main purpose has been to show how it comes about that a new order can be established. The sombre tone at the end is due to a pressing awareness in the author of the price: but the price has not been paid in vain. Mr James declares that 'the play at its end at most looks dimly ahead beyond itselfas, at its beginning, it had not looked back to what had gone before' (p. 104). The opening scene, he says, 'cuts away from our imaginations any sense of the preceding life of Lear and his family', and' Shakespeare gives us very little which helps to make the scene we see continuous with what had gone before' (p. 101). I cannot agree with this; and, indeed, if personal reminiscence is allowable in an Introduction such as this, I would record my vivid recollection of James entertaining in his home, years ago, the most junior member of his Department, as he so often and so generously did. I remember the tone of his voice as he quoted, in conversation, the significant words, 'he hath ever but slenderly known himself. We are told this early in the play—and told that 'the best and soundest of his time hath been but rash'. And, later on, Lear himself speaks of the remote past: They flattered me like a dog, and told me I had the white hairs in my beard ere the black ones were there. (4. 6. 95-7) 1
Shakespeare's Last Plays (1938), p. 17.
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Here is a glimpse of the octogenarian Lear as he was before he had grown up to full manhood—flattered long ago, as he is at the start of the play. He himself brings his youthful days before us. In a review praising a production by Mr (now Sir Donald) Wolfit, Mr T. C. Worsley wrote, in 1949, these words:1 Every time I have read the play, and every other time I have seen it acted, I have always had to swallow that first scene of the dividing of the kingdom, taking its nasty premise as one takes a dose for the good it will do one later. But with Mr Wolfit it is quite otherwise. What the very first three minutes manage marvellously to convey is the whole history of the man that has led up to them; so that we are dropped immediately not into a beginning but into a climax.
The play looks before and after. Briefly, admittedly; for it is the climax with which it is concerned—a climax which itself has a beginning, a middle, and an end. The middle compels us to keep watch over human suffering that is appalling in its intensity. We cannot forget that suffering when all is over—we cannot brush it out of our minds. But the gods are merciful, and we discern the glimmerings of a new sunrise. We are by no means left darkling. * The New Statesman and Nation, new ser. xxxvin, 354 (1 October 1949).
G. I. D. June 1957
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THE STAGE-HISTORY OF KING LEAR Any survey, however summary, of the stage-fortunes of our play must include its adaptation by Nahum Tate, which displaced the original as the basis ofall productions for a century and a half. So popular was it that the eighteenth-century performances far outnumber those of any other period; and in the nineteenth century such outstanding critics as Lamb, Hazlitt and Leigh Hunt never saw the original staged. Of pre-Restoration productions only two records are known.The entry of Shakespeare's Learin the Stationers' Register of 26 November 1607, mentions a performance before the King at Whitehall on the night of St Stephen's Day (26 December) 1606, 'by his maiesties servantes playinge vsually at the Globe'; and the 'Pied Bull' quarto (Q 1) of 1608 repeats the information on its title-page. The other notice tells the story of a group of Yorkshire players from Egton who at Candlemas (2 February) 1610 acted the play at Sir John York's mansion, Gowthwaite Hall in Nidderdale, when Christopher Simpson, who originally gathered together these strolling players, probably acted the king. They used 'printed books', which for this play must have been copies of Q i.1 After the Restoration at least two revivals preceded the disappearance of Shakespeare's Lear from the stage. John Downes in his Roscius Anglicanus (1708) names it in a list of the plays presented by Davenant's company ('the Duke's') at 1
See for fuller details C. J. Sisson in The Review of English Studies (1942), pp. 135-43, and the Stage-History of Pericles in this edition, p. xxxi.
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Lincoln's Inn Fields, 'between 1662 and 1665', Betterton playing Lear; while in June 1675, it is said to have been seen by Nell Gwyn. 1 In 1681 Tate's History of KingLear'was published, and was acted the same year at Dorset Garden by the Duke's company. Tate's book gives the cast: Lear (Betterton), Edgar (Smith), Kent (Wiltshire), Edmund (Williams), Gloucester (Gillow), Albany (Bowman), Cornwall (Norris); Mrs (i.e. Miss) Barry was Cordelia, Mrs Shadwell (the poet's wife) Goneril, and a titled lady, Lady Slingsby, Regan. Tate had remodelled the play, making three major alterations: the happy ending which everyone has heard of; a love-story, of Edgar and Cordelia, running through the whole play (France and Burgundy are cut out); and the omission of the Fool. The love-theme Tate in his dedicatory epistle claims as an. 'Expedient' happily hit on 'to rectifie' a lack of'Regularity and Probability' in Shakespeare's plot; it 'renders Cordelia's Indifference and her Father's Passion probable', and turns Edgar's disguise from 'a poor Shift to save his Life' into 'a generous Design' for helping Cordelia. Unfortunately it entailed many new scenes of incongruous sentimentality in Tate's inferior verse. The new ending which left Lear and Cordelia safe and happy took the place of what many, notably Dr Johnson, have felt to be unendurably painful;4 it also conserved the ideal of 'poetic justice' which many besides Johnson clung to, and vindicated the righteous control of the Universe, as itsfinallines emphasize—Cordelia's' bright Example shall convince the World....That Truth and 1
Hazelton Spencer, Shakespeare Improved (1927), p. 7$, and Montague Summers's ed. of Downes, op. at. (1928), p. 188, cite for this the Historical MSS. Commission, in. 266. s See Raleigh, Johnson on Shakespeare (1908), pp. 161-25 cf. also A. C. Bradley, Shakespearean Tragedy (1904), pp. 232-4.
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Virtue shall at last succeed'. As to the Fool, Tate probably thought of him as the mere stage buffoon; Garrick and most eighteenth-century readers did the same,1 and not till 1838 was he again seen on the stage. Besides thus remoulding the play, Tate reminted numerous lines and even whole passages in his own debased poetic currency.3 Protests from men of letters were heard from time to time against what a pamphlet of 1747 called an 'execrable alteration'. Thus as early as 1711 Addison in the Spectator, no 40, declared that the play as thus 'reformed according to the chimerical notion of poetical justice...has lost half its beauty'; Lamb in 1811, and Hazlitt in 1817, quoting Lamb in extenso, pronounced emphatic condemnation of the 'happy ending'.3 But 1
For Garrick, who once thought of restoring the Fool, but feared to 'hazard so bold an attempt', see Thomas Davies, Dramatic Miscellanies (1783), 11, 267; cf. D. Nichol Smith, Shakespeare in the Eighteenth Century (1928), p. 21; and for Column's view in 1768, ibid. p. 23. Even Leigh Hunt in an Examiner article of May 1808 approved Tate's excision of the Fool as 'now out of date' (see L. H . and C. W. Houtchen's Leigh Hunt's Dramatic Criticism (1950), pp. i5-2o)._ 2 Tate's version is in Montague Summers's Shakespeare Adaptations (1922); a useful analysis is in C. B. Hogan's Shakespeare in the Theatre, 1701-1800: London, ijoi-50 (1952), p. 244; and an excellent short criticism in Nichol Smith, op. cit. pp. 20-2. See also Genest, Some Account of the English Stage, 1660-1830 (1832), V, 194-200; H. H. Furness's New Variorum Shakespeare ed. of Lear (1882), pp. 466-77; G. C. D. Odell, Shakespeare from Betterton to Irving (1921), r, 53-6; Hazelton Spencer, op. cit. pp. 242-9. 3 See Genest, iv, 475-6 (for the pamphlet); Lamb, On the Tragedies of Shakespeare with Reference to their Fitness for Stage Representation (from the Reflector, No. IV, 1811), in Lamb's Miscellaneous Prose, ed. E. V. Lucas, 1912, pp. 124-5; Hazlitt, Characters of Shakespeare's Plays (Works, edited Waller and Glover, 1, 270-1, 1902).
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the theatrical world remained unmoved and the spurious version held the field for twenty more years. Mr Hogan has listed productions in each year but three (1702, 1707,1740) in the first half of the century, and in every year but six (after 1774) in the second half;1 thereafter its vogue steeply declined, till Macready in 18 3 8 dealt it its quietus. Betterton was Lear each year till his death in 1710. Wilks and Mills were his chief Edgars and Edmunds, and Cibber took Gloucester; Mrs Bracegirdle, Mrs Bradshaw and Mrs Rogers were successively Cordelia. Between Betterton and Garrick the chief Lears were Barton Booth, Boheme till 1730, Quin (in six of the years 1731—39), and Delane (eight of the years 1733— 41). Quin had done 'excellently', Davies judged, as Gloucester previously, but was 'a much inferior Lear'. 2 Both he and Delane overlapped their greater successor, till 1748 and 1743 respectively; for young Garrick, after his triumphant debut as Richard III at Goodman's Fields five months before, made his first appearance as Lear on 11 March 1742, and then on ten other nights till 19 May. On 28 May and in October to December he acted the part five times at Drury Lane. At Drury, Lane he had his early flame, Peg Woffington, as his Cordelia; at Goodman's Fields Mrs Giffard. Mrs Cibber, his most frequent subsequent Cordelia, was rendering her to Quin's Lear at the Garden in December; but from 1747 to 1763 Drury Lane saw her with Garrick. Another of his Cordelias of note was George Anne Bellamy in 1750-2, but in 1757 and 1764 she was with Spranger Barry at Covent Garden. Such was Garrick's initial success that most years when the play was on in 1
See Hogan, op. cit. 245-67; and his sequel, London, ly51—1800 (1957), pp. 335-61. His lists include Garrick's, Column's and Kemble's versions, primarily based on Tate's. * Davies, op. cit. H, 277-8.
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London saw him as the King till he retired. In 1746 the manager, Rich, induced him to come to Covent Garden; but in autumn 1747 he was back in the Lane, now comanager with Lacy. Here on 28 October 1756 he staged the play 'with restorations from Shakespeare', having his friend and biographer Davies's wife as Cordelia.1 His restorations, though once supposed to be negligible, were in fact very considerable. The plot remains Tate's, with the love story, the happy ending, and no Fool; but apart from additions and omissions which this entailed, the dialogue is chiefly Shakespeare's, and Mr Hogan's calculation is that 'a good seventy per cent' is 'Shakespeare verbatim'.* This year and the next Barry was competing with him at the rival house in the title part, but what Davies deemed Garrick's 'perfect exhibition' of it so outshone Barry's 'very respectable' rendering3 that from October 1767 to April 1774 he was content to understudy him at Drury Lane before returning to Covent Garden, where his last Lear was in February 1776. Miss Nossiter was Barry's first Cordelia at the Garden, 1756-7; but his most frequent partner was Ann Dancer (Mrs Barry from 1768), who acted the part with him from 1766 to 1776. In February 1768 a more thorough-going revision of Tate by the elder George Colman was acted at Covent Garden with Powell and Mrs Yates as principals (they had partnered thus at Drury Lane in the 1765-6 season). Working largely from Shakespeare's text, Colman discarded the love-scenes, but kept Tate's ending. He omitted 1
Hogan, op. cit. II, 337. Privately communicated. Cf. his op. cit. ir, 334, and A . C. Sprague, Shakespearian Players and Performances (1954) (British ed.), p. 32: 'Shakespeare owes a great deal to this actor—even... in the matter of restoring his words to the stage.' 3 Thomas Davies, Life ofGarrick (1781), ir, 249. a
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Gloucester's attempted fall from Dover Cliff while retaining the fine description; and the blinding took place offstage. He even thought of reinstating the Fool, but felt the risk to be too great—'it would sink into burlesque in the representation'.1 This first attempt at superseding Tate failed. His version became defunct after the 1770-1 season, and for virtually fifty years Tate was not again challenged. Garrick was last seen as Lear three times in the summer of 1776, ending 8 June.2 The next notable actor of the part was J. P. Kemble. To Mrs Siddons's Cordelia he first played it in the Lane on 21 January 1788; andfivemore nights before 15 May. As manager of the company he took the role in 1792 and 1793, and at the King's Theatre, Haymarket; and at the Lane in 1795 and 1801. From 1808 to 1810 his management of Covent Garden saw him in it each year; he also took it with him to Bath in 1812 and 1817. But his sister, ofwhose talents Tate's Cordelia was unworthy, ceased after the 1801 revival, and Kemble had to do with lesser partners. His brother Charles he took as Edmund in 1801, and as Edgar in 1809 and 1810. Using Garrick's version at first, he reverted to Tate from 1792 with slight restorations of the original; in 1810 this was advertised as 'Shakespeare's King Lear'. As in Colman's version, Gloucester was blinded off stage, his cries being heard in the wings, and his fall at Dover was forestalled by Lear's entry.3 Kemble's first 1
Cf. above, p. viii, n. 1. On Colman's version see Nichol Smith,pp. 22-4; Odell, r, 379-81; Hogan, II, 333-4; Genest, I, 191-203, compares it with Tate's act by act. 2 On Garrick's Lears, see A. C. Sprague, op. cit. pp. 2140. 3 For Kemble's Lear, see Harold Child, The Shakespearian Productions ofy. P. Kemble (1935), p . 9; Genest, Viii, 131-3; Odell, 11, 55; Hogan, 11, 335. N.S.K.L.-4
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production was a triumph, never equalled in the later; the house was packed with a fashionable audience. His passionate intensity in his earliest renderings was, in the later, Boaden felt,1 'quenched' by over-elaboration of Lear's age and infirmity. Overlapping Kemble's was Cooke's at Covent Garden in 1802 and 1807; but this was 'not one of Cooke's good parts', says Genest,2 and he played Kent in the 1808 revival. C. M . Young also played Lear at Bath for two years before coming to the Garden with it in 1822. But both were eclipsed by Kean, whofirstadopted the role on 24 April 1820 in the Lane. Though not such a triumph as his Richard III six years before, the play ran for 28 nights, throwing into the shade two other revivals that year at Covent Garden: J. B. Booth's on 13 April, and Vandenhoff's on 9 December. On 21 August, Booth was at Drury Lane as Edgar with Kean, on 15 November he stood in for him as Lear, and migrated to the U.S.A. the next year. Hazlitt, writing in June, reported a story that Kean had said his London audiences should wait to judge him finally till * they came to see him over the dead body of Cordelia', but neither then nor in his next revival, 1822, was the implied restoration of Shakespeare's catastrophe carried out. For that London had to wait till 1823, when on 10 and 24 February the original act 5 was played, in deference, said the playbills, to the views of 'men of literary eminence from the time of Addison'. The reforms did not extend to the cutting out of the love-scenes, nor to the recall of the Fool. This version was repeated at Drury Lane in March and June, and in three other years till 1829. He appeared in it twice in 1828 at Covent Garden, and finally on 12 July 18 3 o at the Haymarket. For this last he had Miss F. H . Kelly in the part of Cordelia, played till then by Mrs W. 1 Boaden, Memoirs ofj. P. Kemble (1825), I, 378-9, 386. 8 Op. cit. VII, 552.
STAGE-HISTORY
kin
West. Lear, however, was not one of his greatest parts; Hazlitt declared his bitter disappointment;1 and his partial restoration proved abortive. Meanwhile Young had continued, in Bath in 1823, and in London at Covent Garden in 1824 (C. Kemble as Edgar), and at Drury Lane in 1829 (Mrs West now Goneril, and Miss Phillips Cordelia). Lear was the latest of Macready's Shakespearian parts, but one of his best. He had played Edmund to Booth's Lear in 1820; his first Lear was not till 1834, when on 23 May he acted with Young's Cordelia, Miss Phillips, at Drury Lane. A few days later he was seen twice at Covent Garden. 'Excessively nervous' at first, as his diary records, he gained confidence by act 3, and was loudly applauded; but The Times' notice on the 24th was chilly. On this, his first revival, he restored, with some cuts and dislocations,3 Shakespeare's text, but not yet with the Fool. This last-step in the rejection of Tate he took in his next production, at Covent Garden from 2 5 January 1838, when he assigned the Fool to a youngactress, Priscilla Horton, who played the part till his last King Lear? In Helen Faucit he now had a very fine Cordelia, and the play was shown ten times, winning 'very great applause', as The Times, still grudging in praise, admitted. The following February it Was repeated six times; on the 18th the Queen was present.- Elaborate 1
For Hazlitt on Kean as Lear, see his essay from the
London Magazine (June, 1820), in Dramatic Essays {Works, ed. Waller and Glover, vin, 443-51), 1903. 2 See Odell, r, 95-6 for some details. In particular the blinding does not occur even behind the scenes. 3 On Macready's Lear see J. C. Trewin, Mr Macreddy: igth Century Tragedian (1955), pp. 139-40; on Miss Horton, Miss M. St C. Byrne's Note 74, Catalogue of the Arts Council's Exhibition (A History pf Shakespearean Production (1947), pp. 18-19).
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scenery marked the revival, with realistic thunder and lightning, wind and rain in the storm scenes. From 1845 to 1848 he produced the play each year at the Princess's Theatre, and finally in 1849 and 1851 at the Haymarket (3 February his last appearance). In 1845, Mrs Stirling played Cordelia and in 1848 from 3 March Mrs Butler (Fanny Kemble). In Macready's first year Vandenhoff had reappeared at Covent Garden; 1836 brought a more dangerous rival in Edwin Forrest, the American tragedian, to Drury Lane, whose Lear on 4 November was a considerable success. But when he came back in March 1845, to the Princess's, still following Tate's text, he met with a hostile reception which he put down to Macready's instigation, who followed him there in October.1 This same year a third King Lear-was seen in London, Samuel Phelps's first, at Sadler's Wells, in his second year as manager. He had previously acted Lear in 1841 at the Surrey Theatre in Liverpool, in the winter of 1843-4.* Now he presented the genuine play with much fewer cuts than Macready and in Shakespeare's order of scenes. Miss Cooper was Cordelia, Marston Edgar, and Bennett Edmund; and the Fool was now played by a man (Scharf). It was acted six times. The critics were full of praise for Phelps's acting; it would 'bear comparison', said the Observer, 'with the best by any other actor ever'.3 He again showed the play in 1852-3; in 1857 from 5 December Mrs Charles Young was his Cordelia. His latest productions at Sadler's Wells were in September and October 1859, and 1
On the rivalry of these two cf. Macbeth, Stage-History, p. lxxxii. 2 See W. May Phelps and J. Forbes-Robertson, Life and Life-Work of Samuel Phelps (1886), pp. 53, 61. 3 For this revival see op. cit. pp. 79, 81-6, 264; Odell, op. cit. II, 272-3.
STAGE-HISTORY
lxv
January 1861; but in May he acted Lear at the Princess's Theatre, and here he was last seen in the part on 6 December. Charles Kean had essayed the part here from 17 April 1858, but was an inadequate rival; 'he gave the Fool again to a woman', says Hazelton Spencer.1 He followed previous versions in omitting the blinding of Gloucester and his fall at Dover, and his production was characteristically spectacular in its dicor, which aimed at representing Saxon Britain.2 After Phelps had left, Sadler's Wells saw Charles Dillon as Lear in 186 8, Drury Lane Mr and Mrs Rousley in 1873 and Ernesto Rossi in 1876, and the Princess's had Edwin Booth in his sole L,ondon Lear (Maud Milton the Cordelia), in 1881. The next memorable King Lear was Irving's one and only revival at the Lyceum, opening on 10 November 1892. The Times on 11 November reported a 'most cordial reception', but Irving had overstrained his voice and was barely audible. He staged it till the end of January 1893, and again from 6 February for some nights, but it had by then proved a failure. One critic, indeed, declared his Lear 'magnificent and terrible in its pathos'; and Gordon Crosse recalled it in detail sixty years later as a 'thrilling experience'; Professor Odell, who judges Lear to have been beyond Irving's powers, records Ellen Terry's Cordelia as 'a great moving performance' of 'ineffable pathos'. Irving, like others, omitted the blinding of Gloucester and cut very extensively; nor was the scenery as splendid to the eye as in many of his productions, though he contrived realistic eifects of dazzling lightning and terrifying thunder.3 1
The Art and Life of Shakespeare (1940), p . 328. Odell, 11, 294-5, 352. 3 For Irving's production see Odell, n , 387-8, 446; Gordon Crosse, Shakespearean Play-going; 1890-1952(1953), p . i2 j Laurence Irving, Henry Irving (1951), pp. 548-52. 2
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LEAR
In the early years of this century few revivals took place in London, but of late they have greatly increased. In 1909 the Haymarket showed the play from 8 September with Norman McKinnel and Ellen O'Malley. Nine years later the Old Vic gave the first of its several Lears, when Ben Greet produced it on 2 5 February 1918 with Russell Thorndike and Mary Sumner, reviving the older practice by giving the Fool to Sybil Thorndike. In 1920, from 29 November, Robert Atkins was the producer and acted the King with Mary Sumner again as Cordelia; Wilfrid Walter designed the settings, and the play, little cut, lasted 3§ hours.1 The following year he repeated the production for the company. In May 1928, Ernest Milton played the leading part in a full-length King Lear produced by Andrew Leigh; Gordon Crosse* thought him at the time the best Lear he had seen since Irving. Meanwhile the play had been staged for the Phoenix Society at the Regent Theatre in 19 24 (Hubert Carter and Gwen Ffrangcon-Davies), while Nugent Monck at his Maddermarket Theatre, Norwich, had shown it in 1926 in an unlocalized setting with one ten minutes' interval. In April 1931 John Gielgud acted his first Lear, Harcourt Williams producing, for the Old Vic; Ralph Richardson played Kent and Patricia McNabb Cordelia. His next, also for the Old Vic, was in 1940 with Lewis Casson (not yet Sir Lewis) and Harley Granville-Barker as producers,^ when Casson acted Kent, Cathleen Nesbitt and Fay Compton were Goneril and Regan, and Jessica Tandy was Cordelia. The text was almost uncut. Meanwhile William Devlin had appeared as Lear for the Old Vic in 1936 (Ion Swinley as Kent and Vivienne Bennett as Cordelia); he 1
Gordon Crosse, p. 55. P. 64. 3 For the partnership see C. B. Purdom, Harley GranvilleBarker (1955), pp. 261-3. a
STAGE-HISTORY
lxvii
had previously played the part at the Westminster Theatre in 1934, and subsequently figured in it in Hugh Hunt's 1947 revival at the Embassy Theatre, and in the Old Vic's in 1952 at the end of its London run in which Stephen Murray was the King and Daphne Slater Cordelia. In the War years Donald Wolfit, who had taken Kent earlier in Stratford, played Lear during his autumn tour in 1942, Nugent Monck producing; and then each year in London, 1943-7 and 19491 at different theatres, with Rosalind Iden as Cordelia. In 1953 at the King's Theatre, Hammersmith, he played the King with Sir Lewis Casson as Gloucester. In 1946, from 14 September, Sir Laurence Olivier at the Old Vic had Joyce Redman as Cordelia to his Lear,2 with Alec Guinness as the Fool, Pamela Brown as Goneril, and Margaret Leighton as Regan. From 3 March 1952 the Old Vic once more staged the play, Hugh Hunt producing—Stephen Murray and Daphne Slater as Lear and Cordelia, Leo McKern as the Fool; and in. February 1958 in its plan of producing all the plays in the Folio in a period of five years presented it again, under Douglas Seale's direction, with Paul Rogers as Lear, Rosemary Webster as Cordelia, and Paul Daneman as the Fool. In 1955 the Stratford Memorial Theatre Company under George Devine toured in Britain and on the Continent ending up at Stratford in December. John Gielgud played Lear throughout, with Peggy Ashcroft, Claire Bloom and Mary Watson as his successive Cordelias. The first revival at Stratford itself was in 1883 on the Birthday, when William Creswick was the king. After 1
See Introduction, p. Iv supra. * On Olivier's Lear, see Four Lears, by Charles Landstone in Shakespeare Survey, 1 (1948), 98-102. He compares Olivier's with three other Lears of 1946—7—Devlin's, Philip Morant's, and Sofaer's.
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Osmond Tearle's production in 1890, Benson produced the play and acted Lear to his wife's Cordelia in 1902, 1904, and 1906, but, thinks J. C. Trewin, 1 was never at his best in the part; Matheson Lang was Edmund in 1902. Under Bridges-Adams it was again the birthday play in 1924 with Arthur Phillips as Lear; Baliol Holloway played Kent, and Dorothy Green was Goneril. Four years in the 1930's saw Randle Ayrton, probably the best of the Stratford Lears*—in 1931 and I932with Bridges-Adams producing; in 1936 and 1937 in Komisarjevsky's two productions, Donald Wolfit being the Kent in the first of them, and Eric Maxon the Gloucester as in 1931 (he had acted as Edgar in 1924). In 1943 Abraham Sofaer acted Lear as his first appearance in Stratford—the production Peter Cresswell's; and in 1950 John Gielgud came to Stratford in the part with Alan Badel as the Fool; Peggy Ashcroft was Cordelia, and Gwen Ffrangcon-Davies now played Regan. In the 1953 production Michael Redgrave and Yvonne Mitchell were Lear and Cordelia.3 In America the earliest known performances were in New York and Philadelphia in 1754 by Lewis Hallam's company, his wife playing Cordelia to Malone's Lear. The first memorable tragedian in the part was J. B. Booth, who acted Lear from 1821 to 1852; but his greater contemporary, Edwin Forrest, outdid this record, spanning forty-five years from 1826 in his renderings. Eddy overlapped the latter in seven seasons 1
See T. C. Kemp and J. C. Trewin, The Stratford Festival (1953), p. 62. 2 Cf. Muriel C. Day and J. C. Trewin, The Stratford Memorial Theatre (1932), p. 216; Ruth Ellis, The Stratford Memorial Theatre (1948), p. 64; T . C. Kemp in his and J. C. Trewin's op. cit. p. 165. 3 See T . C. Kemp's 'Acting Shakespeare: Modern Tendencies', in Shakespeare Survey, 7 (1954), 127.
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lxix
from 1852 to 1865. In the last quarter of the-century Edwin Booth's (1875—8 8) were the most outstanding of the productions; McCullough figured in five revivals from 1877 to 1882. In the present century R. B. Mantell has been the chief Lear (from 1905 onwards). In California Mr Gilmor Brown staged King Lear at the Pasadena Playhouse in 1922 and 1944. C. B. YOUNG
May 1958
TO THE READER The following typographical conventions should be noted: A single bracket at the beginning of a speech signifies an ' aside \ An obelisk (f) implies probable corruption, and suggests a reference to the Notes. Stage-directions taken verbatim from the First Folio, or the Quarto, are enclosed in single inverted commas. The reference number for the first line is given at the head of each page. Numerals in square brackets are placed at the beginning of the traditional acts and scenes.
KING LEAR
The scene: Britain CHARACTERS IN T H E PLAY LEAR, king of Britain KING OF FRANCE DUKE OF BURGUNDY DUKE OF CORNWALL, husband to Regan DUKE OF ALBANY, husband to Goneril EARL OF KENT EARL OF GLOUCESTER EDGAR, son to Gloucester EDMUND, bastard son to Gloucester CURAN, a courtier OSWALD, steward to Goneril
OLD MAN, tenant to Gloucester DOCTOR FOOL GONERIL \ REGAN \ CORDELIAJ
daughters to Lear
Gentleman, Herald, Captains, Knights of Lear1 s train. Messengers, Soldiers, Attendants, Servants
KING LEAR [ i . I.] The throne-room in King Lear'spalace 'Enter KENT, GLOUCESTER, and EDMUND* Kent. I thought the king had more affected the Duke of Albany than Cornwall. Gloucester. 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 equalities are so weighed that curiosity in neither can make choice of either's moiety. Kent. Is not this your son, my lord ? Gloucester. His breeding, sir, hath been at my charge. I have so often blushed to acknowledge him that now 10 I am brazed to 't. Kent. I cannot conceive you. Gloucester. 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? Kent. I cannot wish the fault undone, the issue of it being so proper. Gloucester. 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 20 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 ? Edmund. No, my lord. Gloucester. My lord of Kent. Remember him hereafter as my honourable friend.
4
KING LEAR
x.x.38
Edmund. My services to your lordship. Kent. I must love you, and sue to know you better. 30, Edmund. Sir, I shall study deserving. Gloucester. He hath been out nine years, and away he shall again. \A sennet sounded] The king is coming. 'Enter one bearing a coronet.'' 'Enter King LEAR, CORNWALL, ALBANT,
GONERIL,
REGAN,
CORDELIA,
and
attendants' Lear. Attend the lords of France and Burgundy, Gloucester. Gloucester. I shall, my liege. \he goes out, attended By Edmund Lear. 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 40 Unburdened 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 answered. Tell me, my daughters (Since now we will divest us both of rule, Interest of territory, cares of state), 50 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.
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KING LEAR
5
Gonertl. Sir, I love you more than word can wield the matter; Dearer than eyesight, space and liberty; Beyond what can be valued rich or rare; No less than life with grace, health, beauty, honour; As much as child e'er loved, or father found: A love that makes breath poor, and speech unable. Beyond all manner of "so much" I love you. 60 {Cordelia. What shall Cordelia speak ? Love, and be silent. Lear, [showing the map] Of all these bounds, even from this line to this, With shadowy forests and with champaigns riched, With plenteous rivers and wide-skirted meads, We make thee lady. To thine and Albany's issues Be this perpetual. What says our second daughter, Our dearest Regan, wife of Cornwall ? Regan. I am made of that self metal as my sister, And prize me at her worth. In my true heart I find she names my very deed of love: 70 Only she comes too short, that I profess Myself an enemy to all other joys Which the most precious spirit of sense possesses, And find I am alone felicitate In your dear Highness' love. (Cordelia. Then poor Cordelia! And yet not so, since I am sure my love's More ponderous than my tongue. Lear. To thee and thine, hereditary ever, Remain this ample third of our fair kingdom, No less in space, validity, and pleasure 80 Than that conferred on Goneril. Now, our joy, Although our last and least, to whose young love The vines of France and milk of Burgundy
6
KING LEAR
1.1.84
Strive to be mteressed, what can you say to draw A third more opulent than your sisters? Speak. Cordelia. Nothing, my lord. Lear. Nothing? Cordelia. Nothing. Lear. Nothing will come of nothing; speak again. 90 Cordelia. Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave My heart into my mouth. I love your Majesty According to my bond, no more nor less. Lear. How, how, Cordelia? Mend your speech a little, Lest you may mar your fortunes. Cordelia. Good my lord, You have begot me, bred me, loved 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, 100 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. Lear. But goes thy heart with this ? Cordelia. Ay, my good lord. Lear. So young, and so untender ? Cordelia. So young, my lord, and true. Lear. 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, n o 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
X.I.XI5
KING LEAR
7
Hold thee from this for ever. The barbarous Scythian, Or he that makes his generation messes T o gorge his appetite, shall to my bosom Be as well neighboured, pitied, and relieved, As thou my sometime daughter. Kent. Good my liege— Lear. Peace, Kent! 120 Come not between the dragon and his wrath. I loved her most, and thought to set my rest On her kind nursery. [To Cordelid\ 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! \A courtier hurries ford] Cornwall and Albany, With my two daughters' dowers digest the third; Let pride, which she calls plainness, marry her. I do invest you jointly with my power, Pre-eminence, and all the large effects 130 That troop with majesty. Ourself* by monthly course, With reservation of an hundred knights By you to be sustained, shall our abode Make with you by due turn. Only we shall retain The name and all th' addition to a king: the sway, Revenue, execution of the rest, Beloved sons, be yours; which to confirm, This coronet part between you. Kent. Royal Lear, Whom I have ever honoured as my king, Loved as my father, as my master followed, 140 As my great patron thought on in my prayers— Lear. The bow is bent and drawn; make from the shaft. Kent. Let it fall rather, though the fork invade The region of my heart! Be Kent unmannerly
8
KING LEAR
1.1.145
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 stoops to folly. Reserve thy state, And in thy best consideration check 150 This hideous rashness. Answer my life my judgment, Thy youngest daughter does not love thee least, Nor are those empty-hearted whose low sounds Reverb no hollowness. Lear. Kent, on thy life, no more! Kent. My life I never held but as a pawn To wage against thine enemies; ne'er feared to lose it, Thy safety being motive. Lear. Out of my sight! Kent. See better, Lear, and let me still remain The true blank of thine eye. Lear. Now by Apollo— Kent. Now by Apollo, king, 160 Thou swear'st thy gods in vain. Lear. O vassal! miscreant! [laying his hand on his sword
,, \ Dear sir, forbear!
n Cornwall.) Kent. 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. Lear. Hear me, recreant, On thine allegiance, hear me! That thou hast sought to make us break our vow— Which we durst never yet—and with strained pride To come betwixt our sentence and our power— 170 Which nor our nature nor our place can bear,—
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KING LEAR
9
Our potency made good, take thy reward. Five days we do allot thee for provision T o shield thee from disasters of the world, And on the sixth to turn thy hated back Upon our kingdom. If, on the tenth day following, Thy banished trunk be found in our dominions, The moment is thy death. Away! By Jupiter, This shall not be revoked. Kent. Fare thee well, king; sith thus thou wilt appear, Freedom lives hence and banishment is here. 180 [To Cordelia] The gods to their dear shelter take thee, maid, That justly think'st and hast most rightly said. [To Goneril and Regan] 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. [he goes 'Flourish1. Re-enter GLOUCESTER, with FRANCE, BURGUNDY, and Attendants Gloucester. Here's France and Burgundy, my noble lord. Lear. My lord of Burgundy, We first address toward you, who with this king Hath rivalled for our daughter. What in the least Will you require in present dower with her, Or cease your quest of love? Burgundy. Most royal majesty, I crave no more than hath your highness offered— Nor will you tender less ? Lear. 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.
190
io
K I N G LEAR
1.1.197
If aught within that little seeming-substance, Or all of it, with our displeasure pieced, And nothing more, may fitly like your grace, 200 She's there, and she is yours. Burgundy. I know no answer. Lear. Will you, with those infirmities she owes, Unfriended, new adopted to our hate, Dowered with our curse and strangered with our oath, Take her or leave her? Burgundy. Pardon me, royal sir. Election makes not up on such conditions. Lear. Then leave her, sir; for, by the power that made me, I tell you all her wealth. \To France] For you, great king, I would not from your love make such a stray To match you where I hate; therefore beseech you 210 T ' avert your liking a more worthier way Than on a wretch whom Nature is ashamed Almost t' acknowledge hers. France. This is most strange, That she whom 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-vouched affection 220 Fall into taint; which to believe of her Must be a faith that reason without miracle Should never plant in me. Cordelia. 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.I.225
KING LEAR
«
I'll do 't before I speak—that you make known It is no vicious blot, murder or foulness, No unchaste action or dishonoured step, That hath deprived 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 230 That I am glad I have not, though not to have it Hath lost me in your liking. Lear. Better thou Hadst not been born than not t' have pleased me better. France. Is it but this—a tardiness in nature Which often leaves the history unspoke That it intends? My lord of Burgundy, What say you to the lady? Love's not love When it is mingled with regards that stands Aloof from th' entire point. Will you have her? She is herself a dowry. Burgundy. Royal king, 240 Give but that portion which yourself proposed, And here I take Cordelia by the hand, Duchess of Burgundy. Lear. Nothing. I have sworn; I am firm. Burgundy. I am sorry then you have so lost a father That you must lose a husband. Cordelia. Peace be with Burgundy! Since that respect and fortunes are his love, I shall not be his wife. France. Fairest Cordelia, that art most rich, being poor; Most choice, forsaken; and most loved, despised; 250 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 inflamed respect. N.S.K.L.-5
12
KING LEAR
1.1.255
Thy dowerless daughter, king, thrown to my chance, Is queen of us, of ours, and our fair France. Not all the dukes of wat'rish Burgundy Can buy this unprized precious maid of me. Bid them farewell, Cordelia, though unkind; 260 Thou losest here, a better where to find. Lear. 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. 'Flourish1. Lear, Burgundy, Cornwall, Albany, Gloucester, and attendants depart Trance. Bid farewell to your sisters. Cordelia. The jewels of our father, with washed eyes Cordelia leaves you. I know you what you are, And like a sister am most loath to call Your faults as they are named. Love well our father; 270 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. Regan. Prescribe not us our duty. Goneril. Let your study Be to content your lord, who hath received you At Fortune's alms. You have obedience scanted, And well are worth the want that you have wanted. Cordelia. Time shall unfold what plighted cunning hides, Who covert faults at last with shame derides. 280 Well may you prosper. France. Come, my fair Cordelia. [he leads her away
I.I.28I
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13
Gotten!. Sister, it is not little I have to say of what most nearly appertains to us both. I think our father will hence tonight. Regan. That's most certain, and with you; next month with us. Goneril. 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. Regan. 'Tis the infirmity of his age; yet he hath ever 290 but slenderly known himself. Goneril. 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-engraffed condition, but therewithal the unruly waywardness that infirm and choleric years bring with them. Regan. Such unconstant starts are we like to have from him as this of Kent's banishment. Goneril. There is further compliment of leave-taking between France and him. Pray you let us hit together. 300 If our father carry authority with such disposition as he bears, this last surrender of his will but offend us. Regan. We shall further think of it. Goneril. We must do something, and i' th' heat. [they go [1.2] A room in the Earl of Gloucester's castle Enter EDMUND, with a letter Edmund. 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,
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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 10 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 th' creating a whole tribe of fops Got 'tween a sleep and wake? Well then, Legitimate Edgar, I must have your land. Our father's love is to the bastard Edmund As to th' legitimate. Fine word, 'legitimate'1 Well, my legitimate, if this letter speed, 20 And my invention thrive, Edmund the base Shall top th' legitimate. I grow, I prosper. Now, gods, stand up for bastards! 'Enter GLOUCESTER* (Gloucester. Kent banished thus ? and France ia choler parted? And the king gone to-night? Prescribed his power? Confined to exhibition? All this done Upon the gad?—Edmund, how now? What news? Edmund. So please your lordship, none. [putting the letter in Us pocket Gloucester. Why so earnestly seek you to put up that letter? 30 Edmund. I know no news, my lord. Gloucester. What paper were you reading? Edmund. Nothing, my lord. Gloucester. No? What needed then that terrible dispatch of it into your pocket? The quality of nothing
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hath not such need to hide itself. Let's see. Come, if it be nothing, I shall not need spectacles. Edmund. 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 perused, I find it not fit for your o'erlooking. 40 Gloucester. Give me the letter, sir. Edmund. I shall offend either to detain or give it. The contents, as in part I understand them, are to blame. Gloucester. Let's see, let's see. Edmund. I hope, for my brother's justification, he wrote this but as an essay or taste of my virtue. Gloucester, ['reads'] '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 oppres- 50 sion 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 waked 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 you to this? Who brought it? Edmund. It was not brought me, my lord: there's the 60 cunning of it. I found it thrown in at the casement of my closet. Gloucester. You know the character to be your brother's? Edmund. 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. Gloucester. It is his.
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Edmund. It is his hand, 1117 lord] but I hope his heart 70 is not in the contents. Gloucester. Has he never before sounded you in this business? Edmund. Never, my lord. But I have heard him oft maintain it to befitthat, sons at perfect age* and fathers declined, the father should be as ward to the son, and the son manage his revenue. Gloucester. O villain, villain! His very opinion in the letter! Abhorred villain! Unnatural, detested, brutish villain! Worse than brutish! Go, sirrah, seek him. I'll 80 apprehend him. Abominable villain! Where is he? Edmund. 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 90 pretence of danger. Gloucester. Think you so? Edmund. 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. Gloucester. He cannot be such a monster! Edmund. Nor is not, sure. Gloucester. T o his father, that so tenderly and entirely loves him! Heaven and earth! Edmund, seek 100 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.
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Edmund. I will seek him, sir, presently; convey the business as I shall find means, and acquaint you withal. Gloucester. 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 n o 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. [he goes 120 Edmund. 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 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 130 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. Edgar—
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'Enter EDGAR* Pat! he comes, like the catastrophe of the old comedy. My cue is villainous melancholy, with a sigh like Tom o' Bedlam—O these eclipses do portend these divisions. 140 [humming sadly] Fa, sol, la, me. Edgar. How now, brother Edmund? What serious contemplation are you in ? Edmund. I am thinking, brother, of a prediction I read this other day, what should follow these eclipses. Edgar. Do you busy yourself with that? Edmund. 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 male150 dictions against king and nobles, needless diffidences, banishment of friends, dissipation of cohorts, nuptial breaches, and I know not what. Edgar. How long have you been a sectary astronomical? Edmund. When saw you my father last? Edgar. The night gone by. Edmund. Spake you with him? Edgar. Ay, two hours together. Edmund. Parted you in good terms? Found you no 160 displeasure in him, by word nor countenance? Edgar. None at all. Edmund. 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. Edgar. Some villain hath done me wrong.
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Edmund. That's my fear. I pray you have a continent forbearance till the speed of his rage goes slower; and, 170 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. Edgar. Armed, brother? Edmund. 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!. Edgar. Shall I hear from you anon? 180 Edmund. I do serve you in this business. [Edgar goes A credulous father! and a brother noble Whose nature is so far from doing harms That he suspects none; on whose foolish honesty My practices ride easy! I see the business. Let me, if not by birth, have lands by wit; All with me's meet that J can fashion fit. [he goes
[1. 3.] A room In the Duke of Albany's palace Enter GONERIL and OSWALD, her steward Qoneril. Did my father strike my gentleman for chiding of his fool? Oswald. Ay, madam. Goneril. By day and night he wrongs me. Every hour Heflashesinto 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.
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10 If you come slack of former services, You shall do well; the fault of it I'll answer. Ihorns heard Oswald. He's coming, madam; I hear him. Goneril. 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 my 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, 20 Old fools are babes again, and must be used With checks asflatteries,when they are seen abused. Remember what I have said. Oswald. Well, madam. Goneril. 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. {they go [1.4.]
A hall In the same 'Enter KENT1 disguised
Kent. If but as well I other accents borrow, That can my speech diffuse, my good intent May carry through itself to that full issue For which I razed my likeness. Now, banished Kent, If thou canst serve where thou dost stand condemned, So may it come thy master whom thou lov'st Shall find thee full of labours.
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21
Horns heard. LEAR enters from'huntings with Knights and Attendants Lear. Let me not stay a jot for dinner; go get it ready. [Attendant goes out] How now! what art thou? 10 Kent. A man, sir. Lear. What dost thou profess? What would'st thou with us? Kent. 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. Lear. What art thou ? Kent. A very honest-hearted fellow, and as poor as 20 the king. Lear. If thou be'st as poor for a subject as he's for a ling, thou art poor enough. What would'st thou? Kent. Service. Lear. Who would'st thou serve? Kent. You. Lear. Dost thou know me, fellow? Kent. No, sir; but you have that in your countenance which I would fain call master. Lear. What's that? 30 Kent. Authority. Lear. What services canst thou do? Kent, 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. Lear. How old art thou ? Kent. Not so young, sir, to love a woman for singing,
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nor so old to dote on her for anything. I have years on 40 my back forty-eight. Lear. 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. [Attendant goes out Enter OSWALD You! you, sirrah! Where's my daughter? Oswald, [crossing the Aali without pausing] So please you—
[goes out
Lear. What says the fellow there? Call the clotpoll back! [Knight goes out] Where's my fool? Ho! 50 I think die world's asleep. [Knight returns] How now? Where's that mongrel? Knight. He says, my lord, your daughter is not well. Lear. Why came not the slave back to me when I called him? Knight. Sir, he answered me in the roundest manner he would not. Lear. He would not? Knight. My lord, I know not what the matter is, but to my judgement your highness is not entertained 60 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. Lear. Ha! say'st thou so? Knight. I beseech you pardon me, my lord, if I be mistaken, for my duty cannot be silent when I think your highness wronged. Lear. Thou but rememb'rest me of mine own conception. I have perceived a most faint neglect of late, 70 which I have rather blamed as mine own jealous
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23
curiosity than as a very pretence and purpose of unkindness; I will look farther into't. But where's my fool? I have not seen him this two days. Knight. Since my young lady's going into France, sir, the fool hath much pined away. Lear. No more of that; I have noted it well. Go you and tell my daughter I would speak with her. [Attendant goes out] Go you, call hither my fool. [Second attendant goes out} OSWALD
returns
0 you sir, you, come you hither, sir. Who am I, sir? Oswald. My lady's father. 80 Lear, [glares'] 'My lady's father', my lord's knave? You whoreson dog, you slave, you cur! Oswald, [glares back] I am none of these, my lord} 1 beseech your pardon. Lear. Do you bandy looks with me, you rascal? [strikes Mm Oswald. I'll not be strucken, my lord. Kent. Nor tripped neither, you base football player. [tripping up Ms heels
Lear. I thank thee, fellow. Thou serv'st me, and I'll love thee. Kent. Come, sir, arise, away! I'll teach you dif- 90 ferences. Away, away! If you will measure your lubber's length again, tarry; but away! Go to; have you wisdom? [Oswaldgoes] So. Leaf. Now, my friendly knave, I thank thee. There's earnest of thy service, [giving money] Enter FOOL Fool. Let me hire him too. Here's my coxcomb. [offers Kent Ms cap
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Lear. How now, my pretty knave? How dost thou? Fool. Sirrah, you were best take my coxcomb. Kent. Why, fool? 100 Fool. 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 banished 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, nunclei Would I had two coxcombs and two daughters! Lear. Why, my boy? Fool. If I gave them all my living, I'ld keep my coxcombs myself. There's mine; beg another of thy n o daughters. Lear. Take heed, sirrah—the whip. Fool. Truth's a dog must to kennel; he must be whipped out, when the Lady's brach may stand by th,' fire and stink. Lear. A pestilent gall to me! Fool. Sirrah, I'll teach thee a speech. Lear. Do. Fool. Mark it, nuncle! Have more than thou showest, 12a 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. Kent. This is nothing, fool. 130 Fool. Then 'tis like the breath of an unfeed lawyer—
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you gave me nothing for't. Can you make no use of nothing, nuncle? Lear. Why, no, boy; nothing Can be made out of nothing. Fool, [to Kent] Prithee tell him, so much the rent of his land comes to. He will not believe a fool. Lear. A bitter fool! Fool. Dost thou know the difference, my boy, between a bitter fool and a sweet one? Lear. No, lad; teach me. 140 Fool. That lord that counselled 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, pointing to himself The other found out—there! [pointing to Lear Lear. Dost thou call me fool, boy? Fool. All thy other titles thou hast given away; that 150 thou wast born with. Kent. This is not altogether fool, my lord. Fool. 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. Lear. What two crowns shall they be ? Fool. Why, after I have cut the egg i'th'middle and eat up the meat, the two crowns of the egg. When thou 160 clovest thy crown i'th'middle and gav'st away both parts, thou bor'st thine ass on thy back o'er the dirt.
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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. [Singing] 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. 170 Lear. When were you wont to be so full of songs, sirrah? Fool. I have used it, nuncle, e'er since thou mad'st thy daughters thy mothers—for when thou gav'st them the rod and putt'st down thine own breeches, [Singing] 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. Prithee, nuncle, keep a schoolmaster that can teach thy 180 fool to lie: I would fain learn to lie. Lear. An you lie, sirrah, we'll have you whipped. Fool. 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'th' middle. Here comes one o' the parings. 1
Enter
GONERIL1
Lear. How now, daughter? What makes that front190 let on? You are too much of late i'th'frown. Fool. 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. [To Goneril] Yes, forsooth,
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I will hold my tongue; so your face bids me, though you say nothing. Mum, mum: He that keeps nor crust nor crumb, Weary of all, shall want some. [pointing to Lear] That's a shelled peascod. 200 Goneril. Not only, sir, this your all-licensed fool, But other of your insolent retinue Do hourly carp and quarrel, breaking forth. In rank and not-to-be-endured riots. I had thought, by making this well known unto you, T o 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 2*0 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. Fool. For you know, nuncle, The hedge-sparrow fed the cuckoo so long That it had it head bit off by it young. So out went the candle, and we were left darkling. Lear. Are you our daughter? Goneril. I would you would make use of your good wisdom 220 (Whereof I know you are fraught) and put away These dispositions which of late transport you From what you rightly are. Fool. May not an ass know when the cart draws the horse? Whoop, Jug! I love thee. Lear. Does any here know me? This is not Lear.
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Does Lear walk thus, speak thus? Where are his eyes ? Either his notion weakens, his discerriings Are lethargied— Ha! Waking? 'Tis not so? 230 Who is it that can tell me who I am? Fool. Lear's shadow! Lear. I would learn that; for by the marks Of sovereignty, knowledge, and reason, I should be false persuaded I had daughters. Fool. Which they will make an obedient father. Lear. Your name, fair gentlewoman ? Goneril. This admiration, sir, is much o' th' savour Of other your new pranks. I do beseech you T o understand my purposes aright. 240 As you are old and reverend, should be wise. Here do you keep a hundred knights and squiresMen So disordered, so debauched 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 graced palace. The shame itself doth speak For instant remedy. Be then desired, By her that else will take the thing she begs, A little to disquantity your train; 250 And the remainders, that shall still depend, T o be such men as may besort your age, Which know themselves and you. Lear. Darkness and devils! Saddle my horses; call my train together! Degenerate bastard, I'll not trouble thee; Yet have I left a daughter. Goneril. You strike my people, and your disordered rabble Make servants of their betters.
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29
* Enter ALBANY1 Lear. Woe that too late repents!—O, are you come? Is it your will? Speak, sir!—Prepare my horses. Ingratitude, thou marble-hearted fiend, 260 More hideous when thou show'st thee in a child Than the sea-monster! Albany. Pray, sir, be patient. Lear, [to GonerW] 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, wrenched my frame of nature From the fixed place, drew from my heart all love, 270 And added to the gall. O Lear, Lear, Lear! Beat at this gate that let thy folly in [striking his head And thy dear judgement out! Go, go, my people. [Knights and Kent go Albany. My lord, I am guiltless, as I am ignorant Of what hath moved you. Lear. It may be so, my lord. Hear, Nature; hear, dear goddess; hear! Suspend thy purpose, if thou didst intend T o make this creature fruitful. Into her womb convey sterility; Dry up in her the organs of increase; 280 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 disnatured torment to her.
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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 290 T o have a thankless child! Away, away! [he rushes forth
Albany. Now, gods that we adore, whereof comes this? Goneril. Never afflict yourself to know more of it, But let his disposition have that scope As dotage gives it. LEAR
returns distraught
Lear. What, fifty of my followers at a clap? Within a fortnight? Albany. What's the matter, sir? Lear. I'll tell thee. [To Goneril] Life and death! I am ashamed That thou hast power to shake my manhood thus; That these hot tears, which break from me perforce, 300 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 loose, T o temper clay. Yea, is't come to this? 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 310 That I'll resume the shape which thou dost think I have cast off for ever. [he goes
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31
GoneriL Do you mark that? Albany. I cannot be so partial, Goneril, To the great love I bear you— Goneril. Pray you, content. What, Oswald, ho! [To the Fool] You, sir, more knave than fool, after your master! Fool. Nuncle Lear, nuncle Lear! Tarry; take the fool with thee. A fox, when one has caught her, And such a daughter, Should sure to the slaughter, 320 If my cap would buy a halter. So the fool follows after. [he runs off Goneril. 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! Albany. Well, you may fear too far. Goneril. Safer than trust too far. Let me still take away the harms I fear, 330 Not fear still to be taken. I know his heart. What he hath uttered I have writ my sister. If she sustain him and his hundred knights, When I have showed th'unfitness— Enter
OSWAW
How now, Oswald? What, have you writ that letter to my sister? Oswald. Ay, madam. Goneril. Take you some company, and away to horse! Inform her full of my particular fear, N.S.K.L.-6
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And thereto add such reasons of your own 340 As may compact it more. Get you gone, And hasten your return. [Oswaldgoes] No, no, my lord, This milky gentleness and course of yours Though I condemn not, yet, under pardon, You are much more attaxed for want of wisdom Than praised for harmful mildness. Albany. How far your eyes may pierce I cannot tell: Striving to better, oft we mar what's well. Goneril. Nay, then— Albany. Well, well; th'event. [they go
[1. 5.]
Court before the same Enter LEAR,
KENT,
and
FOOL
Lear. Go you before to Cornwall 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. Kent. I will not sleep, my lord, till I have delivered your letter. [he goes Fool. If a man's brains were in's heels, were't not in danger of kibes? 10 Lear. Ay, boy. Fool. Then I prithee be merry; thy wit shall not go slip-shod. Lear. Ha, ha, ha! Fool. 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.
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33
Lear. What canst tell, boy? Fool. She will taste as like this as a crab does to a crab. Thou canst tell why one's nose stands i'th'middle on's face? 20 Lear. No. Fool. Why, to keep one's eyes of either side's nose, that what a man cannot smell out, he may spy into. Lear. I did her wrong. Fool. Canst tell how an oyster makes his shell? Lear. No. Fool. Nor I neither; but I can tell why a snail has a house. Lear. Why? 30 Fool. Why, to put's head in} not to give it away to his daughters, and leave his horns without a case. Lear. I will forget my nature. So kind a father! Be my horses ready? Fool. Thy asses are gone about 'em. The reason why the seven stars are no moe than seven is a pretty reason. Lear. Because they are not eight. Fool. Yes, indeed; thou would'st make a good fool. Lear. To take 't again perforce! Monster Ingratitude! Fool. If thou wert my fool, nuncle, I'd have thee 40 beaten for being old before thy time. Lear. How's that? Fool. Thou should'st not have been old till thou hadst been wise. Lear. O, let me not be mad, not mad, sweet heaven! Keep me in temper; I would not be mad! Enter GENTLEMAN How now! Are the horses ready? Gentleman. Ready, my lord.
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1.5-49
Lear. Come, boy. 50 Fool. She that's a maid now, and laughs at my departure, Shall not be a maid long, unless things be cut shorter. [they go [2. 1]
A court within the castle of the Earl of Gloucester 1
Enter EDMUND and CVRAN', meeting
Edmund. Save thee, Curan. Curan. 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. Edmund. How comes that? Curan. Nay, I know not. You have heard of the news abroad, I mean the whispered ones, for they are yet but ear-bussing arguments ? Edmund. Not I. Pray you, what are they? 10 Curan. Have you heard of no likely wars toward 'twixt the Dukes of Cornwall and Albany? Edmund. Not a word. Curan. You may do, then, in time. Fare you well, sir. [he goes Edmund. 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! 20 Brother, a word! Descend! Brother, I say! 1
'Enter
EDGAR*
My father watches: O sir, fly this place!
2.1.22
KING LEAR
35
Intelligence is given where you are hid. You have now the good advantage of the night. Have you not spoken 'gainst the Duke of Cornwall? He's coming hither, now i'th'night, i'th' haste, And Regan with him. Have you nothing said Upon his party 'gainst the Duke of Albany? Advise yourself. Edgar. I am sure on't, not a word. Edmund. I hear my father coming. Pardon me, In cunning I must draw my sword upon you. 30 Draw, seem to defend yourself; now quit you well.— Yield! Come before my father. Light, ho! Here!— Fly, brother.—Torches, torches! [Edgar hastens away So; farewell. Some blood drawn on me would beget opinion Of my more fierce endeavour. [Wounds Ms arm] I have seen drunkards Do more than this in sport—Father, father!. Stop, stop! No help? 'Enter GLOUCESTER, and servants with torches1 Gloucester. Now, Edmund, where's the villain? Edmund. Here stood he in the dark, his sharp sword out, Mumbling of wicked charms, conjuring the moon T o stand auspicious mistress. Gloucester. But where is he? 40 Edmund. Look, sir, I bleed. Gloucester. Where is the villain, Edmund? Edmund. Fled this way, sir, when by no means he could— Gloucester. Pursue him, ho! Go after. [Some servants go] By no means what? Edmund. Persuade me to the murder of your lordship. 3-2
36
KING LEAR
2.1.45
But that I told him the revenging gods 'Gainst parricides did all the thunder bend, Spoke with how manifold and strong a bond The child was bound to th'father—sir, in fine, Seeing how loathly opposite I stood 50 To his unnatural purpose, in fell motion With his prepared sword he charges home My unprovided body, latched mine arm; And when he saw my best alarumed spirits, Bold in the quarrel's right, roused to th'encounter, Or whether gasted by the noise I made, Full suddenly he fled. Gloucester. Let him fly far: Not in this land shall he remain uncaught; And found—dispatch. The noble Duke my master, My worthy arch and patron, comes tonight. 60 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. Edmund. When I dissuaded him from his intent, And found him pight to do it, with curst speech I threatened 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 70 Make thy words faithed ? 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.'
2.1.77
K I N G LEAR
37
Gloucester. 'O strange and fastened villain! Would he deny his letter, said he? I never got him. \a tucket heard Hark, the Duke's trumpets! I know not why he comes. All ports I'll bar; the villain shall not scape; 80 The Duke must grant me that. Besides, his picture I will send far and near, that all the kingdom May have due note of him; and of my land, Loyal and natural boy, I'll work the means To make thee capable. Enter CORNWALL,
REGAN,
and attendants
Cornwall. How now, my noble friend ? Since I came hither, Which I can call but now, I have heard strange news. Regan. If it be true, all vengeance comes too short Which can pursue th'offender. How dost, my lord? Gloucester. O madam, my old heart is cracked, it's cracked. 90 Regan. What! Did my father's godson seek your life ? He whom my father named, your Edgar? Gloucester. O lady, lady, shame would have it hid! Regan. Was he not companion with the riotous knights That tended upon my father? Gloucester. I know not, madam. 'Tis too bad, too bad! Edmund. Yes, madam; he was of that consort. Regan. No marvel, then, though he were ill affected. 'Tis they have put him on the old man's death, To have th'expense and waste of his revenues. 100 I have this present evening from my sister Been well informed of them, and with such cautions
38
K I N G LEAR
2.1.103
That, if they come to sojourn at my house, I'll not be there. Cornwall. Nor I, assure thee, Regan. Edmund, I hear that you have shown your father A childlike office. Edmund. It was my duty, sir. Gloucester. He did bewray his practice; and received This hurt you see, striving to apprehend him. Cornwall. Is he pursued? Gloucester. Ay, my good lord. n o Cornwall. If he be taken, he shall never more Be feared 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. Edmund. I shall serve you, sir, Truly, however else. Gloucester. For him I thank your Grace. Cornwall. You know not why we came to visit you ? Regan. Thus out of season, threading darkeyed night: 120 Occasions, noble Gloucester, of some prize, Wherein we must have use of your advice. Our father he hath writ, so hath our sister, Of differences, which I best thought it fit T o 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 businesses, Which craves the instant use. Gloucester. I serve you, madam. Your Graces are right welcome. ['Flourish'. They go
2,2.1 [2. 2.]
KING LEAR
39
Before Gloucester's castle Enter
KENT
and OSWALD, meeting
Oswald. Good dawning to thee, friend. Art of this house? Kent. Ay. Oswald. Where may we set our horses ? Kent. I'th'mire. Oswald. Prithee, if thou lov'st me, tell me. Kent. I love thee not. Oswald. Why then, I care not for thee. Kent. If I had thee in Lipsbury Pinfold, I would make thee care for me. Oswald. Why dost thou use me thus? I know thee not. 10 Kent. Fellow I know thee. Oswald. What dost thou know me for ? Kent. A knave, a rascal, an eater of broken meats; a base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three-suited, hundredpound, 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, pandar, and the son and heir of a mongrel bitch: one 20 whom I will beat into clamorous whining if thou deni'st the least syllable of thy addition. Oswald. Why, what a monstrous fellow art thou, thus to rail on one that is neither known of thee nor knows thee! Kent. What a brazen-faced varlet art thou, to deny thou knowest me! Is it two days since I tripped up thy heels and beat thee before the king? Draw, you roguej
4o
KING LEAR
2.2.29
for, though it be night, yet the moon shines. I'll make 30 a sop o' th' moonshine of you, you whoreson cullionly barber-monger. Draw! [drawing his sword Oswald. Away! I have nothing to do with thee. Kent. 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! Oswald. Help, ho! murder! help! Kent. Strike, you slave! Stand, rogue! Stand, you 40 neat slave! Strike! \beating him Oswald. Help, ho! murder, murder! Enter EDMUND, with his rapier drawn Edmund. How now? What's the matter? Part! Kent. With you, goodman boy, if you please! Come, I'll flesh ye; come on, young master! Enter
CORNWALL, REGAN, GLOUCESTER
and servants
Gloucester. Weapons ? Arms ? What is the matter here ? Cornwall. Keep peace, upon your lives! He dies that strikes again. What is the matter? Regan. The messengers from our sister and the king! Cornwall. What is your difference? Speak. 50 Oswald. I am scarce in breath, my lord. Kent. No marvel, you have so bestirred your valour. You cowardly rascal, Nature disclaims in thee; a tailor made thee. Cornwall. Thou art a strange fellow; a tailor make a man? Kent. A tailor, sir. A stone-cutter or a painter could not have made him so ill, though they had been but two years o'th'trade.
2.2.59
KING LEAR
41
Cornwall. Speak yet, how grew your quarrel? Oswald. This ancient ruffian, sir, whose life I have spared 60 At suit of his grey beard— Kent. Thou whoreson zed, thou unnecessary letter! My lord, if you will give me leave, I will tread this unbolted villain into mortar and daub the wall of a jakes with him. Spare my grey beard, you wagtail? Cornwall. Peace, sirrah! You beastly knave, know you no reverence? Kent. Yes, sir; but anger hath a privilege. Cornwall. Why art thou angry? Kent. That such a slave as this should -wear a sword, 70 Who wears no honesty. Such smiling rogues as these, Like rats, oft bite the holy cords atwain Which are too intrince t'unloose: smooth every passion That in the natures of their lords rebel, Bring oil to fire, snow to the colder moods; Renege, affirm, and turn their halcyon beaks With every gale and vary of their masters, Knowing nought (like dogs) but following. A plague upon your epileptic visage! Smile you my speeches, as I were a Fool? 80 Goose, if I had you upon Sarum Plain, I'd drive ye cackling home to Camelot. Cornwall. What, art thou mad, old fellow? Gloucester. How fell you out? Say that. Kent. No contraries hold more antipathy Than I and such a knave. Cornwall. Why dost thou call him knave? What is his fault? Kent. His countenance likes me not.
42
KING LEAR
2.2.89
Cornwall. No more perchance does mine, nor his, nor hers. 90 Kent. Sirs, '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. Cornwall. This is some fellow, Who, having been praised 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 100 Harbour more craft and more corrupter ends Than twenty silly-ducking observants That stretch their duties nicely. Kent. Sir, in good faith, in sincere verity, Under th'allowance of your great aspect, Whose influence, like the wreath of radiant fire On flick'ring Phoebus' front— Cornwall. What mean'st by this? Kent. 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 n o not be, though I should win "your Displeasure" to entreat me to 't. Cornwall. What was th'offence you gave him? Oswald. I never gave him any. It pleased the king his master very late To strike at me upon his misconstruction, When he, compact, and flattering his displeasure, Tripped me behind: being down, insulted, railed, And put upon him such a deal of man
2.2.H9
KING LEAR
43
That worthied him, got praises of the king For him attempting who was self-subdued, 120 And, in the fleshment of this dread exploit, Drew on me here again. Kent. None of these rogues and cowards But Ajax is their fool. Cornwall. Fetch forth the stocks! You stubborn ancient knave, you reverend braggart, We'll teach you! Kent. 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. Cornwall. Fetch forth the stocks! 130 As I have life and honour, there shall he sit till noon. Regan. Till noon? Till night, my lord, and all night too. Kent. Why, madam, if I were your father's dog, You should not use me so. Regan. Sir, being his knave, I will. Cornwall. This is a fellow of the self-same colour Our sister speaks of. Come, bring away the stocks. [Stocks trough out Gloucester. 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 purposed low correction Is such as basest and contemne"d'st wretches 140 For pilf'rings and most common trespasses Are punished with. The king must take it ill That he, so slightly valued in his messenger, Should have him thus restrained.
44
KING LEAR
2.2.144
Cornwall. I'll answer that. Regan. My sister may receive it much more worse To have her gentleman abused, assaulted, For following her affairs. Put in his legs. [Kent is put in the stocks [to Cornwall] Come, my lord, away. [all go in except Gloucester and Kent Gloucester. I am sorry for thee, friend; 'tis the duke's pleasure, 150 Whose disposition, all the world well knows, Will not be rubbed nor stopped. I'll entreat for thee. Kent. Tiay do not, sir. I have watched, and travelled 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! Gloucester. The duke's to blame in this; 'twill be ill taken. [he goes Kent. Good king, that must approve the common saw, Thou out of heaven's benediction com'st To the warm sun! 160 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 informed fOf my obscured course and shall find time.... From this enormous state, seeking to give Losses their remedies. All weary and o'erwatched, Take vantage, heavy eyes, not to behold This shameful lodging. 170 Fortune, good night; smile once more; turn thy wheel. [sleeps
s.3.1
KING LEAR
[2. 3.]
The open country 'Enter
45
EDGAR1
Edgar. I heard myself proclaimed, And by the happy hollow of a tree Escaped the hunt. No port is free, no place That guard and most unusual vigilance Does not attend my taking. Whiles 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 hairs in knots, 10 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 numbed 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, Sometimes with lunatic bans, sometime with prayers, Enforce their charity. 'Poor Turlygod, poor Tom! ? 20 That's something yet! Edgar I nothing am. [he goes [2. 4.]
Before Gloucester's castle Kent in the stocks Enter LEAR,
FOOL
and
GENTLEMAN
Lear. 'Tis strange that they should so depart from home, Arid not send back my messenger.
46
K I N G LEAR
2.4.2
Gentleman. As I learned, The night before there was no purpose in them Of this remove. Kent. Hail to thee, noble master! Lear. Ha! Mak'st thou this shame thy pastime? Kent. No, my lord. Fool. Ha, ha! He wears cruel garters. Horses are tied by the heads, dogs and bears by th' neck, monkies by th' loins, and men by th' legs. When a man's over10 lusty at legs, then he wears wooden nether-stocks. Lear. What's he that hath so much thy place mistook To set thee here? Kent. It is both he and she, Your son and daughter. Lear. No. Kent. Yes. Lear. No, I say. Kent. I say yea. Lear. No, no, they would not. Kent. Yes, yes, they have. 20 Lear. By Jupiter, I swear no! Kent. By Juno, I swear ay! Lear. 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. Kent. My lord, when at their home I did commend your Highness' letters to them, Ere I was risen from the place that showed My duty kneeling, came there a reeking post, 30 Stewed in his haste, half breathless, panting forth
s.4.31
KING LEAR
47
From Goneril his mistress salutations; Delivered letters, spite of intermission, Which presently they read: on whose contents They summoned 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 perceived had poisoned m i n e Being the very fellow which of late Displayed so saucily against your Highness— 40 Having more man than wit about me, drew. He raised the house with loud and coward cries. Your son and daughter found this trespass worth The shame which here it suffers. Fool. 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, 50 Ne'er turns the key to th' poor. But for all this thou shalt have as many dolours from thy daughters as thou canst tell in a year. Lear. O, how this mother swells up toward my heart! Hysterica passio! Down, thou climbing sorrow; Thy element's below. Where is this daughter? Kent. With the earl, sir, here within. Lear. Follow me not; stay here, [he goes in Gentleman. Made you no more offence but what you speak of? Kent. None. 60 How chance the king comes with so small a number?
48
KING LEAR
2.4.63
Fool. An thou hadst been set i'th'stocks for that question, thou'dst well deserved-it. Kent. Why, fool? Fool. We'll set thee to school to an ant, to teach thee there's no labouring i'th'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 70 down a hill, lest it break thy neck with following; 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 ha' none but knaves use 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 80 And let the wise man fly. The knave turns fool that runs away; The Fool no knave, perdy. Kent. Where learned you this, fool? Fool. Not i'th'stocks, fool! Re-enter LEAR, with GLOUCESTER Lear. Deny to speak with me? They are sick, they are weary, They have travelled all the night? Mere fetches; ay, The images of revolt andflyingoff. Fetch me a better answer. Gloucester. My dear lord, You know the fiery quality of the duke, 90 How unremovable and fixed he is In his own course.
2.4-91
K I N G LEAR
49
Lear. Vengeance! plague! death! confusion! Fiery? What quality? Why, Gloucester, Gloucester, I'ld speak with the Duke of Cornwall and his wife. Gloucester. Well, my good lord, I have informed them so. Lear. Informed them? Dost thou understand me, man? Gloucester. Ay, my good lord. Lear. The king would speak with Cornwall; the dear father Would with his daughter speak, commands her service. Are they informed of this? My breath and blood! Fiery? the fiery duke? Tell the hot duke that— 100 No, but not yet; may be he is not well: Infirmity doth still neglect all office Whereto our health is bound. We are not ourselves When nature, being oppressed, commands the mind To suffer with the body. I'll forbear, And am fall'n out with my more headier will To take the indisposed and sickly fit For the sound man. [looking on Kent] Death on my state! Wherefore Should he sit here? This act persuades me That this remotion of the duke and her no Is practice only. Give me my servant forth. Go tell the duke and 's wife I'ld 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. Gloucester. I would have all well betwixt you. [goes Lear. O me, my heart! My rising heart! But down! Fool. Cry to it, nuncle, as the cockney did to the eels when she put 'em i' th' paste alive. She knapped 'em
50
KING LEAR
2.4.120
120 o'th* coxcombs with a stick and cried 'Down, wantons, down!' 'Twas her brother that, in pure kindness to his horse, buttered his hay. 'Re-enter
with CORNWALL, and servants
GLOUCESTER,
REGAN,
Lear. Good morrow to you both. Cornwall. Hail to your Grace! ['Kent here set at libertf Regan. I am glad to see your Highness. Lear. 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. [To Kent] O, are you free? Some other time for that.—Beloved Regan, 130 Thy sister's naught. O Regan, she hath tied Sharp-toothed unkindness, like a vulture, here. [points to his heart I can scarce speak to thee; thou'lt not believe With how depraved a quality—O Regan! Regan. I pray you, sir, take patience. I have hope You less know how to value her desert Than she to scant her duty. Lear. Say? How is that? Regan. I cannot think my sister in the least Would fail her obligation. If, sir, perchance She have restrained the riots of your followers, 140 'Tis on such ground, and to such wholesome end, As clears her from all blame. Lear. My curses on her! Regan. O sir, you are old; Nature in you stands on the very verge Of his confine. You should be ruled and led By some discretion that discerns your state
2.4.I4&
KING LEAR
51
Better than you yourself. Therefore I pray you That to our sister you do make return; Say you have wronged her. Lear. Ask her forgiveness ? Do you but mark how this becomes the house! 'Dear daughter, I confess that I am old: [kneeling 150 Age is unnecessary; on my knees I beg That you'll vouchsafe me raiment, bed, and food!' Regan. Good sir, no more; these are unsightly tricks. Return you to my sister. Lear, [rising] Never, Regan! She hath abated me of half my train, Looked black upon me, struck me with her tongue Most serpent-like upon the very heart. All the stored vengeances of heaven fall On her ingrateful top. Strike her young bones, You taking airs, with lameness! Cornwall. Fie, sir, fie! 160 Lear. You nimble lightnings, dart your blinding flames Into her scornful eyes! Infect her beauty, You fen-sucked fogs, drawn by the pow'rful sun To fall and blister her! Regan. O the blest gods! So will you wish on me when the rash mood—• Lear. 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, 170 To bandy hasty words, to scant my sizes, And in conclusion to oppose the bolt Against my coming in. Thou better know'st N.S.K.L. - 7
52
K I N G LEAR
2,4.174
The offices of nature, bond of childhood, Effects of courtesy, dues of gratitude: Thy half o' th' kingdom hast thou not forgot, Wherein I thee endowed. Regan.
Good sir, to th' purpose.
Lear. Who put my man i' th' stocks? [tucket heard What trumpet's that?
Cornwall.
Regan. I know't—my sister's. This approves her letter, 180 That she would soon be here. Enter OSWALD Is your lady come? Lear. This is a slave, whose easy-borrowed pride Dwells in the sickly grace of her he follows. Out, varlet, from my sight! Cornwall'.
What means your Grace?
Lear. Who stocked my servant? Regan, I have good hope Thou didst not know on't. Enter
GONERIL
Who comes here? O heavens, If you do love old men, if your sweet sway Allow obedience, if you yourselves are old, Make it your cause; send down and take my part! [To Goneril] Art not ashamed to look upon this beard? 190 O Regan! will you take her by the hand? Goneril. Why not by th'hand, sir? How have I offended? All's not offence that indiscretion finds And dotage terms so.
2.4-193
KING LEAR
S3
Lear. O sides, you are too tough! Will you yet hold? How came my man i' th' stocks? Cornwall. I set him there, sir; but his own disorders Deserved much less advancement. Lear. You ? Did you ? Regan. 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. 200 I am now from home, and out of that provision Which shall be needful for your entertainment. Lear. Return to her? and fifty men dismissed? No, rather I abjure all roofs, and choose T o wage against the enmity o'th'air, T o be a comrade with the wolf and o w l Necessity's sharp pinch! Return with her? Why, the hot-blooded France, that dowerless took Our youngest born, I could as well be brought T o knee his throne and, squire-like, pension beg 210 T o keep base life afoot. Return with her? Persuade me rather to be slave and sumpter [looking at Oswald T o this detested groom. Goneril. At your choice, sir. Lear. I prithee, daughter, do not make me mad. I will not trouble thee, my child; farewell: We*U 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 220 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.
5+
K I N G LEAR
2.4.225
Mend when thou canst; be better at thy leisure: I can be patient; I can stay with Regan, I and my hundred knights. Regan. Not altogether so. I looked not for you yet, nor am provided For your fit welcome. Give ear, sir, to my sister; 230 For those that mingle reason with your passion Must be content to think you old, and so— But she knows what she does. Lear. Is this well spoken ? Regan. 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. Goneril. Why might not you, my lord, receive attendance 240 From those that she calls servants, or from mine? Regan. Why not, my lord? If then they chanced to slack ye, We could control them. If you will come to me (For now I spy a danger), I entreat you T o bring but five and twenty: to no more Will I give place or notice. Lear. I gave you all— Regan. And in good time you gave it. Lear. Made you my guardians, my depositaries, But kept a reservation to be followed With such a number. What! must I come to you 250 With five and twenty? Regan, said you so? Regan. And speak 't again, my lord; no more with me.
a.4.252
KING LEAR
55
Lear. Those wicked creatures yet do look well-favoured When others are more wicked; not being the worst Stands in some rank of praise. \To GonerW\ I'll go with thee. Thy fifty yet doth double five and twenty, And thou art twice her love. Goneril. 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 ? Regan. What need one? Lear. O reason not the need! Our basest beggars 260 Are in the poorest things 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'sr, Which scarcely keeps thee warm. But for true need— You heavens, give me 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 270 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, {storm heard approaching] but this heart 280
S6
KING LEAR
2.4.281
Shall break Into a hundred thousand flaws Or ere I'll weep. O Fool, I shall go mad! [He goes forth, the Fool, Gloucester, and Kent following Cornwall. Let us withdraw; 'twill be a storm. Regan. This house is little: the old man and's people Cannot be well bestowed. Goneril. 'Tis his own blame; hath put himselfirom rest, And must needs taste his folly. Regan. For-his particular, I'll receive him gladly, But not one follower. Goneril. So am I purposed. 290 Where is my lord of Gloucester? Cornwall. Followed the old man forth. \Gloucester re-enters'] He is returned. Gloucester. The king is in high rage/ Cornwall. Whither is he going? Gloucester. H e calls to horse, but will I know not whither. Cornwall. 'Tis best to give him way; he leads hlmselfl Goneril. My lord, entreat him by no means to stay. Gloucester. Alack, the night comes on, and the bleak winds Bo sorely ruffle. For many miles about There's scarce a bush. Regan. O sir, to wilful men The injuries that they themselves procure 300 Must be their schoolmasters. Shut up your doorsj He is attended with a desperate train, And what they may incense him to, being apt T o have his ear abused, wisdom bids fear. Cornwall. Shut up your doors, my lord; 'tis a wild night: My Regan counsels well. Come out 0' th' storm. [They go In
3.I.I
KING LEAR
[3. I,]
57
A heath
A storm with thunder and lightning. "Enter KENT and a Gentlemen meeting Kent. Who's there besides foul weather? Gentleman. One minded like the weather, most unquietly. Kent. I know you. Where's the King? Gentleman. 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 out-storm 10 The to-and-fro-confiicting 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. Kent. But who is with him? Gentleman. None but the Fool, who labours to outjest His heart-struck injuries. Kent. 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 is covered 20 With mutual cunning, 'twixt Albany and Cornwall, Who have—as who have not, that their great stars Throned and set high?—servants, who seem no less, Which are to France the spies and speculations
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KING LEAR
3.1.25
Intelligent of our state. What hath been seen, Either in snuffs and packings of the Dukes, Or the hard rein which both of them hath borne Against the old kind King; or something deeper Whereof perchance these are but furnishings.... 30 But true it is from France there comes a power Into this scattered 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. 40 I am a gentleman of blood and breeding, And from some knowledge and assurance offer This office to you. Gentleman. I will talk further with you. Kent. 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! 50 I will go seek the King. Gentleman. Give me your hand. Have you no more to say? Kent. Few words, but, to effect, more than all y e t 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. \TAey go their separate ways
3.2.1
KING LEAR
[3.2.]
Another fart of the heath
'Storm still? Enter LEAR bare-headed with
59
FOOL
Lear. Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow! You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout Till you have drenched our steeples, drowned the cocks! You sulph'rous and thought-executing fires, Vaunt-couriers of oak-cleaving thunderbolts, Singe my white head! And thou, all-shaking thunder, Strike flat the thick rotundity o'th'world, Crack Nature's moulds, all germens spill at once That make in grateful man! Fool. O nuncle, court holy water in a dry house is 10 better than this rain-water out o' door. Good nuncle, in; ask thy daughters blessing! Here's a night pities neither wise men nor fools. Lear. Rumble thy bellyful! Spit, fire! spout, rain I Nor rain, wind, thunder, fire are my daughters. I tax not you, you elements, with unkindness: I never gave you kingdom, called you children; You owe me no subscription. Then let fall Your horrible pleasure. Here I stand your slave, A poor, infirm, weak, and despised old man: 20 But yet I call you servile ministers, That will with two pernicious daughters join Your high-engendered battles 'gainst a head So old and white as this. O, ho! 'tis foul! Fool. 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,
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KING LEAR
3.2.29
The head and he shall louse: 30 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.
Inter KENT Lear. No, I will be the pattern of all patience} I will say nothing. Kent. Who's there? 40 Fool. Marry, here's grace and a codpiece; that's a wise man and [pointing at Lear] a fool. Kent. 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. Lear. Let the great gods, 50 That keep this dreadful pudder o'er our heads, Find out their enemies now. Tremble, thou wretch. That hast within thee undivulged crimes Unwhipped of justice. Hide thee, thou bloody hand, Thou perjured, and thou simular of virtue That art incestuous. Caitiff, to pieces shake, That under covert and convenient seeming Hast practised on man's life. Close pent-up guilts, Rive your concealing continents, and cry
3.2.59
KING LEAR
6t
These dreadful summoners grace. I am a man More sinned against than sinning. Kent. Alack, bare-headed? 60 Gracious my lord, hard by here is a hovel; Some friendship will it lend you 'gainst the tempest: Repose you there, while I to this hard house (More harder than the stones whereof 'tis raised, Which even but now, demanding after you, Denied me to come in) return, and force Their scanted courtesy. Lear. 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, 70 And 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. Fool, [sings] He that has and a little tiny wit— With heigh-ho, the wind and the rainMust make content with his fortunes fit, Though the rain it raineth every day. Lear. True, boy. Come, bring us to this hovel. [Lear and Kent go Fool. This is a brave night to cool a courtesan! I'll speak a prophecy ere I go: 80 When priests are more in word than matter;. When brewers mar their malt with water; When nobles are their tailors' tutors; No heretics burned, but wenches' suitors; Then shall the realm of Albion Come to great confusion. When every case in law is right;
6z
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3.2.88
No squire in debt nor no poor knight; When slanders do not live in tongues, Nor cutpurses come not to throngs; When usurers tell their gold i'th'field, And bawds and whores do churches build; Then comes the time, who lives to see 't, That going shall be used with feet.
90
This prophecy Merlin shall make, for I live before his time. [goes [3.3.]
A room in Gloucester's castle
1
Enter GLOUCESTER and EDMUND, with lights'*
Gloucester. 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. Edmund. Most savage and unnatural! Gloucester. Go to; say you nothing. There is division between the Dukes, and a worse matter than that. 10 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 is 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 threat'ned me), the King, my old master, must be relieved. There is strange things toward, Edmund; pray you be careful. [he goes
3.3.2Q
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Edmund. This courtesy, forbid thee, shall the Duke 20 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. [he goes [3.4.]
The heath. Before a hovel 1 Storm stilP 1
'Enter LEAR,
KENT,
and FOOL*
Kent. Here is the place, my lord; good my lord, enter: The tyranny of the open night's too rough For nature to endure. Lear. Let me alone. Kent. Good my lord, enter here. Lear. Wilt break my heart? Kent. I had rather break mine own. Good my lord, enter. Lear. Thou think'st 'tis much that this contentious storm Invades us to the skin: so 'tis to thee; But where the greater malady is fixed, The lesser is scarce felt. Thou'dst shun a bear; But if thy flight lay toward the roaring sea, 10 Thou'dst meet the bear i'th'mouth. When the mind's free, The body's delicate; this 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.
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KING LEAR
3.4.i9
In such a night as this? O Regan, Goneril! 20 Your old kind father whose frank heart gave all! O, that way madness lies; let me shun that! No more of that. Kent. Good my lord, enter here. Lear. Prithee 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. [To the Fool~\ In, boy, go first. You houseless povertyNay, get thee in; I'll pray, and then I'll sleep— [Fool goes in Poor naked wretches, whereso'er you are, That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm, 30 How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides, Your looped and windowed raggedness, defend you From seasons such as these? O, I have ta'en Too little care of this! Take physic, pomp; Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel, That thou mayst shake the superflux to them And show the heavens more just. Edgar. [Within] Fathom and half, fathom and half! Poor Tom! [the Fool runs out from the hovel Fool. Come not in here, nuncle, here's a spirit. 40 Help me, help me! Kent. Give me thy hand. Who's there ? Fool. A spirit, a spirit! He says his name's poor Tom. Kent. What art thou that dost grumble there i'th'straw? Come forth! Enter EDGAR, disguised as a madmant from the hovel Edgar. Away! The foul fiend follows me!
3.4.46
KING LEAR
65
Through the sharp hawthorn blow the cold winds, Humh! Go to thy bed and warm thee. Lear. Didst thou give all to thy daughters? And art thou come to this? Edgar. Who gives anything to poor Tom? whom the 50 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! Tom'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 60 there again—and there! [''storm still* Lear. What, has his daughters brought him to this pass? Couldst thou save nothing? Wouldst thou give 'em all? Fool. Nay, he reserved a blanket; else we had been all shamed. Lear. Now all the plagues that in .the pendulous air Hang fated o'er men's faults light on thy daughters! Kent. He hath no daughters, sir. Lear. Death, traitor! Nothing could have subdued nature To such a lowriess but his unkind daughters. 70 Is it the fashion that discarded fathers Should have thus little mercy on their flesh? Judicious punishment! 'Twas this flesh begot Those pelican daughters. Edgar. Pillicock sat on Pillicock Hill. Alow! alow, loo, loo!
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KING LEAR
3.4.77
Fool. This cold night will turn us all to fools and madmen. Edgar. Take heed o'th'foul fiend. Obey thy parents, 80 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. Lear. What hast thou been ? Edgar. A servingman! 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 go loved I deeply, dice dearly; and in woman outparamoured 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 lenders' books, and defy the foul fiend. Still through the hawthorn blows the cold wind, Says suum, mun, hey nonny nonny. 100 Dolphin my boy, boy!—sessa! let him trot by. ['storm stiW Lear. Thou wert better in a grave than to answer with thy uncovered body this extremity of the skies. Is man no more than this ? Consider him well. Thou ow'st 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! [strives to tear off his clothes
3.4.«o
KING LEAR
67
Fool. Prithee, nuncle, be contented; 'tis a naughty n o night to swim in! Sees GLOUCESTER approaching 'with a torch*
Now a little fire in a wildfieldwere like an old lecher's heart—a small spark, all the rest on's body cold. Look, here comes a walking fire. Edgar. This is the foul Flibbertigibbet. He begins at curfew, and walks till first cock. He gives the web and the pin, squinies the eye, and makes the harelip; mildews the white wheat, and hurts the poor creature of earth. S'Withold footed thrice the 'old: 120 He met the Nightmare and her nine fold; Bid her alight And her troth plight— And aroint thee, witch, aroint thee! Kent. How fares your grace? Lear. What's he? Kent. Who's there? What is't you seek? Gloucester. What are you there? Your names? Edgar. Poor Tom, that eats the swimming frog, the toad, the tadpole, the wall-newt and the water; that in 130 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 stockpunished 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 140 fiend!
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KING LEAR
3.4.14a
Gloucester. What, hath your Grace no better company? Edgar. The Prince of Darkness is a gentleman! Modo he's called, and Mahu. Gloucester. Our flesh and blood, my lord, is grown. so vile, That it doth hate what gets it. Edgar. Poor Tom's a-cold. Gloucester. Go in with me; my duty cannot suffer T ' obey in all your daughters' hard commands. 150 Though their injunction be to bar my doors And let this tyrannous night take hold upon you, Yet have I ventured to come seek you out And bring you where both fire and food is ready. Lear. First let me talk with this philosopher. What is the cause of thunder? Kent. Good my lord, take his offer; go into th' house. Lear. I'll talk a word with this same learned Theban. What is your study? Edgar. How to prevent the fiend and to kill vermin. 160 Lear. Let me ask you one word in private. Kent. Importune him once more to go, my lordj His wits begin t' unsettle. Gloucester. Canst thou blame him? ['storm still* His daughters seek his death. Ah, that good Kent! He said it would be thus, poor banished man! Thou sayest the King grows mad; I'll tell thee, friend, I am almost mad myself. I had a son, Now outlawed from my blood: he sought my life But lately, very late: I loved him, friend, No father his son dearer: true to tell thee, 170 The grief hath crazed my wits. What a night's this! I do beseech your Grace—
3 4-173
KING LEAR
69
Lear. O, cry you mercy, sir. Noble philosopher, your company. Edgar. Tom's a-cold. Gloucester. In, fellow, there, into th' hovel; keep thee warm. Lear. Come, let's in all. Kent. This way, my lord. Lear. With him! I will keep still with my philosopher. Kent. Good my lord, soothe him; let him take the fellow. Gloucester. Take him you on. Kent. Sirrah, come on; go along with us. Lear. Come, good Athenian. 180 Gloucester. No words, no words; hush! Edgar. Childe Roland to the dark tower came. His word was still 'Fie, foh, and fum. I smell the blood of a British man.' [they go
[3.5.]
A room In Gloucester's castle 'Enter
CORNWALL
and EDMUND*
Cornwall. I will have my revenge ere I depart his House. Edmund. How, my lord, I may be censured, that nature thus gives way to loyalty, something fears me to think of. Cornwall. I now perceive it was not altogether your brother's evil disposition made him seek his death; but a provoking merit, set awork by a reproveable badness in himself. Edmund. How malicious is my fortune, that I must 10
7o
KING LEAR
3.5.11
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! Cornwall. Go with me to the Duchess. Edmund. If-the matter of this paper be certain, you have mighty business in hand. Cornwall. True or false, it hath made thee Earl of Gloucester. Seek out where thy father is, that he may 20 be ready for our apprehension. (Edmund. If I find him comforting the King, it will stuff his suspicion more fully. (To Cornwall) I will persever in my course of loyalty, though the conflict be sore between that and my blood.' Cornwall, I will lay trust upon thee; and thou shalt find a dearer father in my love. [they leave
[3. 6.]
A room in a farmhouse adjoining Gloucester's castle Enter GLOVCESTER and KENT
Gloucester. 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. Kent. All the power of his wits have given way to his impatience. The gods reward your kindness! \Gloucester goes out Enter LEAR, EDGAR, and FOOL Edgar. Frateretto calls me, and tells me Nero is an angler in the lake of darkness. Pray, innocent, and beware the foul fiend.
3.6.9
KING LEAR
71
Fool. Prithee, nuncle, tell me whether a madman be a gentleman or a yeoman. 10 Lear. A king, a king! Fool. 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. Lear. T o have a thousand with red burning spits Come hizzing in upon 'em! Edgar. The foul fiend bites my back. Fool. He's mad that trusts in the tameness of a wolf, a horse's health, a boy's love, or a whore's oath. Lear. It shall be done; I will arraign them straight. 20 [To Edgar] Come sit thou here, most learned justicer; [To the Fool] Thou sapient sir, sit here. Now, you she-foxes— Edgar. Look where he stands and glares! Want'st thou eyes at trial, madam ? [sings] Come o'er the burn, Bessy, to me. Fool [sings] Her boat hath a leak, And she must not speak Why she dares not come over to thee. Edgar. The foul fiend haunts poor Tom in the voice of a nightingale. Hoppedance cries in Tom's belly for 30 two white herring. Croak not, black angel; I have no food for thee. Kent. How do you, sir ? Stand you not so amazed. Will you lie down and rest upon the cushions? Lear. I'll see their trial first. Bring in their evidence. [To Edgar] Thou robed man of justice, take thy place; [To the Fool] And thou, his yokefellow of equity, Bench by his side. [To Kent] You are o'th'commission; Sit you too. N.S.K.L.-8
7*
K I N G LEAR
3.6.40
40 Edgar. 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 gray. Lear. Arraign her first; *tis Goneril. I here take my oath before this honourable assembly, she kicked the poor king, her father. Fool. Come hither, mistress; is your name Goneril? 50 Lear. She cannot deny it. Fool. Cry you mercy, I took you for a joined-stool. Lear. And here's another, whose warped looks proclaim What stone her heart is made on. Stop her there! Arms, arms, sword, fire! Corruption in the place! False justicer, why hast thou let her scape? Edgar. Bless thyfivewits! Kent. O pity! Sir, where is the patience now That you so oft have boasted to retain? {Edgar. My tears begin to take his part so much 60 They mar my counterfeiting. Lear. The little dogs and all, Tray, Blanche, and Sweetheart; see, they bark at me. Edgar. 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 lym, Or bobtail tyke or trundle-tail, 70 Tom will make him weep and waflj For, with throwing thus my head, Dogs leaped the hatch, and all are fled.
3.6.73
KING LEAR
73
Do, de, de, de. Sessa! Come, march to wakes and fairs and market towns. Poor Tom, thy horn is dry. Lear. Then let them anatomize Regan; see what breeds about her heart. Is there any cause in nature that make these hard hearts? {To Edgar] You, sir, I entertain for one of my hundred; only I do not like the fashion of your garments. You will say they are Persian; but let them be changed. 80 Kent. Now, good my lord, He here and rest awhile. Lear. Make no noise, make no noise; draw the curtains. So, so; we'll go to supper i'th'morning. Fool. And I'll go to bed at noon. Enter GLOUCESTER Gloucester. Come hither, friend. Where is the King my master? Kent. Here, sir: but trouble him not; his wits are gone. Gloucester. Good friend, I prithee 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 toward Dover, friend, where thou shalt meet 90 Both welcome and protection. Take up thy master; If thou should'st 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. Kent. Oppressed nature sleeps. This rest might yet have balmed thy broken sinews, Which, if convenience will not allow,
74
K I N G LEAR
3.6.99
Stand in hard cure. [To the Fool] Come, help to bear thy master; 100 Thou must not stay behind. Gloucester. Come, come, away I [Gloucester, Kent, and the Fool leave, carrying Lear Edgar. When we our betters see bearing our woes, We scarcely think our miseries our foes. Who alone suffers, suffers most i'th'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! 110 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. [he goes
[3. 7.] A room in Gloucester's castle Enter CORNWALL, REGAN, GONERIL, EDMUND and SERVANTS
Cornwall. [To Goneril] Post speedily to my lord your husband; show him this letter: the army of France is landed. Seek out the traitor Gloucester. Regan. Hang him instantly. Goneril. Pluck out his eyes.
3.7.6
KING LEAR
75
Cornwall. 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 10 the like. Our posts shall be swift and intelligent betwixt us. Farewell, dear sister; farewell, my Lord of Gloucester. v . ~ „ Enter OSWALD How now? Where's the King? Oswald. My Lord of Gloucester hath conveyed him hence. Somefiveor 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-arme"d friends. Cornwall. Get horses for your mistress. 20 Goneril. Farewell, sweet lord, and sister. Cornwall. Edmund, farewell. [Goneril, Edmund, and Oswald go Go seek the traitor Gloucester; Pinion him like a thief, bring him before us. [Servants go Though well we may not pass upon his life Without the form of justice, yet our power Shall do a court'sy to our wrath, which men May blame, but not control. Re-enter SERVANTS, with
GLOUCESTER prisoner
Who's there? The traitor? Regan. Ingrateful fox! 'tis he. Cornwall. Bind fast his corky arms.
76
KING LEAR
3-7.30
30 Gloucester. What means your Graces? Good my friends, consider You are my guests. Do me no foul play, friends. Cornwall. Bind him, I say. [Servants bind him Regan. Hard, hard. O filthy traitor! Gloucester. Unmerciful lady as you are, I'm none. [they do so Cornwall. To this chair bind him. Villain, thou shalt find— [Regan plucks his beard Gloucester. By the kind gods, 'tis most ignobly done To pluck me by the beard. Regan. So white, and such a traitor? Gloucester. Naughty lady, These hairs which thou dost ravish from my chin Will quicken and accuse thee. I am your host: 40 With robbers' hands my hospitable favours You should not ruffle thus. What will you do? Cornwall. Come, sir. What letters had you late from France? Regan. Be simple-answered, for we know the truth. Cornwall. And what confederacy have you with the traitors Late footed in the kingdom? Regan. To whose hands You have sent the lunatic king... Speak. Gloucester. I have a letter, guessingly set down, Which came from one that's of a neutral heart, And not from one opposed. Cornwall. Cunning. Regan. And false. 50 Cornwall. Where hast thou sent the King? Gloucester. To Dover. Regan. Wherefore to Dover? Wast thou not charged at peril—
3.7.52
KING LEAR
77
Cornwall. Wherefore to Dover? Let him answer that. Gloucester. I am tied to th' stake, and I must stand the course. Regan. Wherefore to Dover? Gloucester. Because I would not see thy cruel nails Pluck out his poor old eyes, nor thy fierce sister In his anointed flesh rash boarish fangs. The sea, with such a storm as his loved head In hell-black night endured, would have buoyed up, And quenched the stelled fires; 60 Yet, poor old heart, he holp the heavens to rain. If wolves had at thy gate howled that dearn time, Thou should'st have said 'Good porter, turn the key'. All cruels else subscribe: but I shall see The winged Vengeance overtake such children. Cornwall. See 't shalt thou never. Fellows, hold the chair. Upon these eyes of thine I'll set my foot. Gloucester. He that will think to live till he be old, Give me some h e l p . . . . O cruel! O you gods! Regan. One side will mock another. Th'other too! 70 Cornwall. If you see vengeance— I Servant. Hold your hand, my lord! I have served you ever since I was a child, But better service have I never done you Than now to bid you hold. Regan. How, now, you dog? I Servant. If you did wear a beard upon your chin, I'd shake it on this quarrel. Regan. What do you mean ? Cornwall. My villain ? [he unsheathes his sword I Servant, [drawing his weapon] Nay, then, come on, and take the chance of anger.
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KING LEAR
3.7.79
Regan, [to another Servant] Give me thy sword. A peasant stand up thus ? ['She takes a sword and runs at him behind*] 80 1 Servant. O, I am slain! My lord, you have one eye left [he dies To see some mischief on him. O! Cornwall. Lest it see more, prevent it. Out, vile jelly! Where is thy lustre now? Gloucester. All dark and comfortless! Where's my son Edmund? Edmund, enkindle all the sparks of nature To quit this horrid act. Regan. 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. 90 Gloucester. O, my follies! Then Edgar was abused* Kind gods, forgive me that, and prosper him! Regan. Go thrust him out at gates, and let him smell [they lead him out His way to Dover. How is't, my lord ? How look you ? Cornwall. I have received 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. [he goes in, supported by Regan 1 Servant. I'll never care what wickedness I do, If this man come to good. If she live long, 3 Servant. 100 And in the end meet the old course of death, Women will all turn monsters. 2 Servant. Let's follow the old earl, and get the bedlam T o lead him where he would; his roguish madness Allows itself to anything.
3.7.105
KING LEAR
79
3 Servant. Go thbu; I'll fetch some flax and whites of eggs To apply to his bleeding face. Now heaven help him! [they go [4. 1.]
The heath '•Enter EDGAR*
Edgar. Yet better thus, and known to be contemned, Than still contemned and flattered. 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. 1
Enter GLOUCESTER, led by an eld man*
But who comes here? fMy father, poorly eyed! World, world, O world! 10 But that thy strange mutations make us hate thee, Life would not yield to age. Old Man. O my good lord, I have been your tenant, and your father's tenant, These fourscore years. Gloucester. Away, get thee away! Good friend, be gone: Thy comforts can do me no good at all; Thee they may hurt. Old Man. You cannot see your way. Gloucester. I have no way, and therefore want no eyes j I stumbled when I saw. Full oft 'tis seen
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20 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. Old Man. How now? Who's there? {Edgar. O gods! Who is't can say' I am at the worst' ? I am worse than e'er I was. Old Man. 'Tis poor mad Tom. {Edgar. And worse I may be yet: the worst is not So long as we can say 'This is the worst'. Old Man. Fellow, where goest? Gloucester. Is it a beggar-man? 30 Old Man. Madman, and beggar too. Gloucester. He has some reason, else he could not beg. I' th' 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 th' gods; They kill us for their sport. {Edgar. How should this be? Bad is the trade that must play fool to sorrow, Ang'ring itself and others.—Bless thee, master! 40 Gloucester. Is that the naked fellow? Old Man. Ay, my lord. Gloucester. Then prithee get thee away. If, for my sake, Thou wilt o'ertake us hence a mile or twain I' th' way toward Dover, do it for ancient love; And bring some covering for this naked soul Which I'll entreat to lead me. Old Man. Alack, sir, he is mad J
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Gloucester. '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. Old Man. I'll bring him the best 'pare! that I have, [he goes Come on't what will. Gloucester. Sirrah, naked fellow! 50 Edgar. Poor Tom's a-cold. \Aside\ I cannot daub it further. Gloucester. Come hither, fellow. {Edgar. And yet I must. Bless thy sweet eyes, they bleed! Gloucester. Know'st thou the way to Dover? Edgar. 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: as Obidicut, of lust; Hobbididence, prince of darkness; Mahu, of stealing; Modo, of murder; Flibbertigibbet, of mocking and 60 mowing, who since possesses chambermaids and waiting-women. So, bless thee, master! Gloucester. Here, take this purse, thou whom the heavens' 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? 70 Edgar. Ay, master. Gloucester. There is a cliff) whose high and bending head Looks fearfully in the confined deep.
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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. Edgar. Give me thy arm; Poor Tom shall lead thee. [they go
[4. 2.]
Before the Duke of"Albany's palace Enter GONERIL and EDMUND
Goneril. Welcome, my lord. I marvel our mild husband Not met us on the way. Enter OSWALD Now, where's your master? Oswald. Madam, within; but never man so changed. I told him of the army that was landed; He smiled 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 informed him, then he called me sot And told me I had turned the wrong side out. 10 What most he should dislike seems pleasant to him; What like, offensive. Goneril. [to Edmund] 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:
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I must change arms 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) 20 A mistress's command. Wear this [giving a favour]. Spare speech; Decline your head: this kiss, if it durst speak, Would stretch thy spirits up into the air. Conceive, and fare thee well. Edmund. Yours in the ranks of death! Goneril. My most dear Gloucester! [Edmund goes O, the difference of man and man! T o thee a woman's services are due; A fool usurps my bed. Oswald. Madam, here comes my lord. 'Enter ALBANY*
&
S eS
°
Goneril. I have been worth the whistling. Albany. O Goneril, You are not worth the dust which the rude wind 30 Blows in your face! I fear your disposition. That nature which contemns it 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. Goneril. No more! The text is foolish. Albany. Wisdom and goodness to the vile seem vile; Filths savour but themselves. What have you done? Tigers, not daughters, what have you performed? 40 A father, and a gracious agdd man, Whose reverence even the head-lugged bear would lick, Most barbarous, most degenerate, have you madded.
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Could my good brother suffer you to do it? A man, a prince, by him so benefited! 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 50 Like monsters of the deep. Goneril. Milk-livered 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 punished 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, sits still and cries 'Alack, why does he so?' Albany. See thyself, devil! 60 Proper deformity shows not in the fiend So horrid as in woman. Goneril. O vain fool! Albany. Thou changed and self-covered thing, for shame Bemonster not thy feature! Were't my fitness T o 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. Goneril. Marry, your manhood! mew! 'Enter a Messenger* Albany. What news? 70 Messenger. O, my good lord, the Duke of Cornwall's dead,
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Slain by his servant, going to put out The other eye of Gloucester. Albany. Gloucester's eyes! Messenger. A servant that he bred, thrilled with remorse, Opposed against the act, bending his sword To his great master; who, thereat enraged, Flew on him, and amongst them felled him dead; But not without that harmful stroke which since Hath plucked him after. Albany. This shows you are above, You justicers, that these our nether crimes So speedily can venge! But, O poor Gloucester! 80 Lost he his other eye? Messenger. Both, both, my lord. This letter, madam, craves a speedy answer; 'Tis from your sister. presents a letter (Goneril. 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. [she goes out Albany. Where was his son when they did take his eyes? Messenger. Come with my lady hither. Albany. He is not here. Messenger. No, my good lord; I met him back again. 90 Albany. Knows he the wickedness? Messenger. Ay, my good lord; 'twas he informed against him, And quit the house on purpose, that their punishment Might have the freer course. Albany, Gloucester, I live
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T o thank thee for the love thou show'dst the King, And to revenge thine eyes. Come hither, friend; [they go Tell me what more thou know'st.
[4. 3.]
The French camp near Dover '''Enter KENT and a Gentleman1
Kent. Why the King of France is so suddenly gone back know you no reason ? Gentleman. 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. Kent. Who hath he left behind him general ? Gentleman. The Marshal of France, Monsieur La Far. 10 Kent. Did your letters pierce the queen to any demonstration of grief? Gentleman. Ay, sir; she took them, read them in my presence, And now and then an ample tear trilled down Her delicate cheek. It seemed she was a queen Over her passion, who, most rebel-like, Sought to be king o'er her. Kent. O, then it moved her. Gentleman. 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 20 Were like, a better way: those happy smilets That played on her ripe lip seemed not to know What guests were in her eyes, which parted thence As pearls from diamonds dropped. In brief,
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Sorrow would be a rarity most beloved If all could so become it. Kent. Made she no verbal question? Gentleman. Faith, once or twice she heaved the name of'father' Pantingly forth, as if it pressed her heart; Cried 'Sisters, sisters! Shame of ladies! Sisters! Kent! father! sisters! What, i'th'storm? i'th'night? Let pity not believe it!' There she shook 30 The holy water from her heavenly eyes That clamour moistened; then away she started To deal with grief alone. It is the stars. Kent. 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? Gentleman. No. Kent. Was this before the King returned ? Gentleman. No, since Kent. Well, sir, the poor distressed Lear's i'th'town, Who sometime, in his better tune, remembers 40 What we are come about, and by no means Will yield to see his daughter. Gentleman. Why, good sir? Kent. A sovereign shame so elbows him: his own unkindness, That stripped her from his benediction, turned 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. Gentleman. Alack, poor gentleman! Kent. Of Albany's and Cornwall's powers you heard not?
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50 Gentleman. 'Tis so, they are afoot. Kent. 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. [they go
[4. 4.]
The same
Enter, with drum and colours, CORDELIA, Doctor, and Soldiers Cordelia. Alack, 'tis he! Why, he was met even now As mad as the vexed sea, singing aloud, Crowned with rank fumiter and furrow-weeds, With hardocks, 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. [an Officer goes'] What can man's wisdom In the restoring his bereaved sense? 10 He that helps him take all my outward worth. Doctor. 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. Cordelia. All blest secrets, All you unpublished virtues of the earth, Spring with my tears! Be aidant and remediate In the good man's distress!—Seek, seek for him,
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Lest his ungoverned rage dissolve the life That wants the means to lead it. Enter Messenger Messenger. News, madam! 20 The British powers are marching hitherward. Cordelia. "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 importuned tears hath pitied. No blown ambition doth our arms incite, But love, dear love, and our aged father's right. [they go Soon may I hear and see him!
[4. 5.]
Gloucester's castle Enter REGAN and OSWALD
Regan. But are my brother's powers set forth? Oswald. Ay, madam. Regan. Himself in person there? Oswald. Madam, with much ado. Your sister is the better soldier. Regan. Lord Edmund spake not with your lord at home? Oswald. No, madam* Regan. What might import my sister's letter to him? Oswald. I know not, lady. Regan. 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 10 All hearts against us. Edmund, I think, is gone, In pity of his misery, to dispatch
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4.5.13
His nighted life; moreover, to descry The strength o'th'enemy. Oswald. I must needs after him, madam, with, my letter. Regan. Our troops set forth tomorrow. Stay with us; The ways are dangerous. Oswald. I may not, madam; My lady charged my duty in this business. Regan. Why should she write to Edmund ? Might not you 20 Transport her purposes by word? Belike, Some things, I know not what. I'll love thee muchLet me unseal the letter. Oswald. Madam, I had rather— Regan. 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. Oswald. I, madam! Regan. I speak in understanding: you are: I know't; Therefore I do advise you take this note. 30 My lord is dead; Edmund and I have talked, 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. Oswald. Would I could meet him, madam! I should show 40 What party I do follow. Regan. Fare thee well. [they go
4.6.i
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[4. 6.]
91
The Country near Dover ''Enter GLOUCESTER, and EDGAR' dressed like a peasant
Gloucester. When shall I come to th' top of that same hill? Edgar. You do climb up it now; look how we labour. Gloucester. Methinks the ground is even. Edgar. Horrible steep. Hark, do you hear the sea? Gloucester. No, truly. Edgar. Why, then your other senses grow imperfect By your eyes' anguish. Gloucester. So may it be indeed. Methinks thy voice is altered, and thou speak'st In better phrase and matter than thou didst. Edgar. You're much deceived: in nothing am I changed But in my garments. Gloucester. Methinks you're better spoken. 10 Edgar. 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. Halfway 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 Diminished to her cock; her cock a buoy Almost too small for sight. The murmuring surge, 20 That on th'unnumb're'd idle pebble chafes, Cannot be heard so high. I'll look no more, N.S.KL. - 9
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Lest my brain turn, and the deficient sight Topple down headlong. Gloucester. Set me where you stand. Edgar. Give me your hand. You are now within a foot Of th'extreme verge. For all beneath the moon Would I not leap upright. Gloucester. Let go my hand. Here, friend, 's another purse, in it a jewel Well worth a poor man's taking. Fairies and gods 30 Prosper it with thee! Go thou further off: Bid me farewell, and let me hear thee going. Edgar. Now fare ye well, good sir. Gloucester. With all my heart! (Edgar. Why I do trifle thus with his despair Is done to cure it. Gloucester. O you mighty gods! ['fa kneels* 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 40 Burn itself out. If Edgar live, O bless him! Now, fellow, fare thee well. Edgar. Gone, sir; farewell! \Gloucester falls forward, and swoons \Aside\ And yet I know not how conceit may rob The treasury of life when life itself Yields to the theft. Had he been where he thought, By this had thought been past. [Jloud] Alive, or dead ? Ho, you sir! friend! hear you, sir! Speak! [Aside] Thus might he pass indeed: yet he revives. [Aloud] What are you, sir ?
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Gloucester. Away, and let me die. Edgar. Hadst thou been aught but gossamer, feathers, air, (So many fathom down precipitating), 50 Thou'dst shivered 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's a miracle. Speak yet again. Gloucester. But have I fall'n, or no ? Edgar. From the dread summit of this chalky bourn. Look up a-height; the shrill-gorged lark so far Cannot be seen, or heard. Do but look up. Gloucester. Alack, I have no eyes. 60 Is wretchedness deprived that benefit T o end itself by death? 'Twas yet some comfort When misery could beguile the tyrant's rage And frustrate his proud will. Edgar. Give me your arm. U p ; so. Howis't? Feel you your legs? You stand. Gloucester. Too well, too well. Edgar. This is above all strangeness. Upon the crown o'th'cliff what thing was that Which parted from you ? Gloucester. A poor unfortunate beggar. Edgar. As I stood here below methought his eyes Were two full moons; he had a thousand noses, 70 Horns whelked and waved like the enridge'd sea. It was some fiend. Therefore, thou happy father, Think that the clearest gods, who make them honours Of men's impossibilities, have preserved thee. Gloucester. I do remember now. Henceforth I'll bear
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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, thefiend',—heled me to that place. 80 Edgar. Bear free and patient thoughts. Enter LEAR, crowned with wildflowersand nettles But who comes here? The safer sense will ne'er accommodate His master thus. Lear. No, they cannot touch me for coining; I am the king himself. {Edgar. O thou side-piercing sight! Lear. Nature's above art in that respect. There's your press-money. That fellow handles his bow like a crowkeeper: draw me a clothier's yard. Look, look, a mouse! Peace, peace; this piece of toasted cheese will 90 do't. There's my gauntlet; I'll prove it on a giant. Bring up the brown bills. O, well flown, bird; i'th* clout, i'th'clout: hewgh! Give the word. Edgar. Sweet marjoram. Lear. Pass. Gloucester. I know that voice. Lear. Ha! Goneril with a white beard? They flattered me like a dog, and told me I had the white hairs in my beard ere the black ones were there. To say 'ay' and 'no' to everything that I said! 'Ay,' and 'no' 100 too, was ho 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.
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Gloucester. The trick ofthat voice I do well remember: Is't not the king? Lear. [touching his crown\ 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? no 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 120 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, sweeten 130 my imagination: there's money for thee. Gloucester. O, let me kiss that hand! Lear. Let me wipe it first; it smells of mortality. Gloucester. O ruined piece of Nature! This great world Shall so wear out to naught. Dost thou know me?
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Lear. I remember thine eyes well enough. Dostthou squiny at me? No, do thy worst, blind Cupid; I'll not love. Read thou this challenge; mark but the penning of it. Gloucester. Were all thy letters suns> I could not see. 140 {Edgar. I would not take this from report. It is, And my heart breaks at it. Lear. Read. Gloucester. What! With the case of eyes? Lear. 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. Gloucester.' I see it feelingly. Lear. What! Art mad? A man may see how this 150 world goes with no eyes. Look with thine ears: see how yond justice rails upon yond 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? Gloucester. Ay, sir.
Lear. 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! 160 Why dost thou lash that whore? Strip thy own back; Thou hotly lusts to use her in that kind For which thou whipp'st her. The usurer hangs the cozener. Through tattered clothes great vices do appear; Robes and furred gowns hide all. Plate sin with gold, And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks: Arm it in rags, a pigmy's straw does pierce it.
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None does offend, none, I say none. I'll able 'em; Take that of me, my friend, who have the power To seal th'accuser's lips. Get thee glass eyes And, like a scurvy politician, seem 170 To see the things thou dost not. Now, now, now, now! Pull off my boots: harder, harder! So. (Edgar. O, matter and impertinency mixed! Reason in madness! Lear. 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! Gloucester. Alack, alack die day! 180 Lear. When we are born, we cry that we are come To this great stage of fools. This' a good block! [taking off the crown 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! ''Enter a Gentleman' with attendants Gentleman. O, here he is: lay hand upon him. Sir, Your most dear daughter— Lear. No rescue? What, a prisoner? I am even The natural fool of Fortune. Use me well; 190 You shall have ransom. Let me have surgeons; I am cut to th'brains. Gentleman. You shall have anything. Lear. No seconds ? All myself? Why, this would make a man a man of salt, To use his eyes for garden water-pots, Ay, and laying autumn's dust. I will die bravely,
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Like a smug bridegroom. What! I will be jovial. Come, come, I am a king, masters, know you that? Gentleman. You are a royal one, and we obey you. 200 Lear. Then there's life in't. Come, an you get it you shall get it by running. Sa, sa, sa, sa. [he runs away,- attendants follow Gentleman. 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. Edgar. Hail, gentle sir! Gentleman. Sir, speed you. What's your will? Edgar. Do you hear aught, sir, of a battle toward? Gentleman. Most sure, and vulgar: every one hears that, Which can distinguish sound. Edgar. But, by your favour, 210 How near's the other army? Gentleman. Near, and on speedy foot: the main descry Stands on the hourly thought. Edgar. I thank you, sir: that's all. Gentleman. Though that the queen on special cause is here, Her army is moved on. Edgar. I thank you, sir. {Gentleman goes Gloucester. You ever-gentle gods, take my breath from me; Let not my worser spirit tempt me again To die before you please!
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KING LEAR
Edgar. Well pray you, father. Gloucester. Now, good sir, what are you ? Edgar. 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. Gloucester. Hearty thanks: The bounty and the benison of Heaven To boot, and bootl Enter
99
220
OSWALD
Oswald. A proclaimed prize! Most happy! That eyeless head of thine was first framed flesh To raise my fortunes. Thou old unhappy traitor, Briefly thyself remember; the sword is out That must destroy thee. Gloucester. Now let thy friendly hand Put strength enough to't. [Edgar interposes Oswald. Wherefore, bold peasant, Dar'st thou support a published traitor? Hence, 230 Lest that th'infection of his fortune take Like hold on thee. Let go his arm. Edgar. Chill not let go, zir, without vurther cagion. Oswald. Let go, slave, or thou di'st. Edgar. Good gentleman, go your gate, and let poor voke 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 Ice try whither your costard or my ballow be the harder. Chill be plain with you. 240 Oswald. Out, dunghill! ^theyfigh? Edgar. Chill pick your teeth, zir. Come; no matter vor your foins. [Oswaldfalls
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Oswald. 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! Death! ['he dies1 Jidgar. I know thee well— a serviceable villain, 250 As duteous to the vices of thy mistress As badness would desire. Gloucester. What, is he dead? Edgar. 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. ['Reads the letter' Let our reciprocal vows be remembered. You have 260 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 met and supply the place for your labour. Your {wife, so I would say) affectionate servant, Goneril. O indistinguished space of woman's will! A plot upon her virtuous husband's life, 270 And the exchange my brother! Here in the sands Thee I'll rake up, thou post unsanctified Of murderous lechers; and in the mature time With this ungracious paper strike the sight Of the death-practised Duke. For him 'tis well
4.6.2^5
KING LEAR
lot
That of thy death and business I can tell. Gloucester. 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 severed from my griefs, And woes by wrong imaginations lose 280 The knowledge of themselves. ['Drum afar off1 Edgar. Give me your hand: Far off methinks I hear the beaten drum. Come, father, I'll bestow you with a friend, [they go
[4.7.]
A tent in the French camp
Enter CORDELIA,
KENT, DOCTOR
and Gentleman
Cordelia. 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. Kent. To be acknowledged, madam, is o'er-paid. All my reports go with the modest truth; Nor more, nor clipped, but so. Cordelia. Be better suited: These weeds are memories of those worser hours; I prithee put them off. Kent. 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. Cordelia. Then be't so, my good lord. [To the Doctor] How does the King? Doctor. Madam, sleeps still. Cordelia. O you kind gods,
10
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KING LEAR
4.7.15
Cure this great breach in his abused nature! Th'untuned and jarring senses, O, wind up Of this child-changed father! Doctor. So please your Majesty That we may wake the King? He hath slept long. Cordelia. Be governed by your knowledge, and proceed 20 I'th'sway of your own will. Is he arrayed? Gentleman. Ay, madam: in the heaviness of sleep We put fresh garments on him.Doctor. Be by, good madam, when we do awake him; I doubt not of his temperance. Cordelia. Very well. 'Enter LEAR asleep in a chair carried by servants', clad in his royal robes., Soft music Doctor. Please you draw near. Louder the music there! Cordelia. 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! Kent. Kind and dear princess! 30 Cordelia. Had you not been their father, these white flakes Did challenge pity of them. Was this a face T o be opposed against the warring winds? T o stand against the deep dread-bolted thunder In the most terrible and nimble stroke Of quick cross lightning? T o 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, T o hovel thee with swine and rogues forlorn,
4.7.40
KING LEAR
103
In short and musty straw? Alack, alack! 40 'Tis wonder that thy life and wits at once Had not concluded all. He wakes; speak to him. Doctor. Madam, do you; 'tis fittest. Cordelia. How does my royal lord ? How fares your Majesty? Lear. You do me wrong to take me out o'th'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. Cordelia. Sir, do you know me? Lear. You are a spirit, I know; when did you die? Cordelia. Still, still, far wide! 50 Doctor. He's scarce awake; let him alone awhile. Lear. Where have I been? Where am I? Fair daylight? I am mightily abused; 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 assured Of my condition! Cordelia. [Kneels] O, look upon me, sir, And hold your hand in benediction o'er me; No, sir, you must not kneel, [seeing him about to rise Lear. Pray do not mock me; I am a very foolish fond old man, 60 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,
ie>4
K I N G LEAR
4.7.69
For (as I am a man) I think this lady 70 To be my child Cordelia. Cordelia. And so I am: I am! Lear. 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. Cordelia. No cause, no cause. Lear. Am I in France? Kent. In your own kingdom, sir. Lear. Do not abuse me. Doctor. Be comforted, good madam: the great rage, You see, is killed in him; and yet it is danger 80 To make him even o'er the time he has lost. Desire him to go in; trouble him no more Till further settling. Cordelia. Will't please your Highness walk? Lear. You must bear with me. Pray you now, forget and forgive; I am old and foolish. [all go but Kent and the Gentleman Gentleman. Holds it true, sir, that the Duke of Cornwall was so slain? Kent. Most certain, sir. Gentleman. Who is conductor of his people? 90 Kent. As 'tis said, the bastard son of Gloucester. Gentleman. They say Edgar, his banished son, is with, the Earl of Kent in Germany. Kent. Report is changeable. 'Tis time to look about; the powers of the kingdom approach apace. Gentleman. The arbitrement is like to be bloody. Fare you well, sir. [goes < Kent. My point and period will be throughly wrought, Or well or ill, as this day's battle's fought. [goes
5.1 i
[5.1.]
KING LEAR
105
The British camp near Dover
'Enter, with drum and colours, EDMUND, REGAN, officers, and soldiers' Edmund. Know of the Duke if his last purpose hold, Or whether, since, he is advised by aught To change the course; he's full of alteration And self-reproving; bring his constant pleasure. [to an officer, who goes out Uegan. Our sister's man is certainly miscarried. Edmund. 'Tis to be doubted, madam. Regan. Now, sweet lord, You know the goodness I intend upon you. Tell me—but truly—but then speak the t r u t h Do you not love my sister ? Edmund. In honoured love. Regan. But have you never found my brother's way 10 To the forfended place? Edmund. That thought abuses you. Regan. I am doubtful that you have been conjunct And bosomed with her, as far as we call hers. Edmund. No, by mine honour, madam. Regan. I never shall endure her: dear my lord, Be not familiar with her. Edmund. Fear me not. She and the Duke her husband! 'Enter, with drum and colours, ALBANY, GONERIL, soldiers' {Goneril. I had rather lose the battle than that sister Should loosen him and me. Albany. Our very loving sister, well be-met. 20 Sir, this I hear: the King is come to his daughter,
io6
KING LEAR
5.i.aa
With others whom the rigour of our state Forced to cry out. Where I could not be honest, I never yet was valiant: for this business, It touches us as France invades our land, Not bolds the King, with others whom, I fear, Most just and heavy causes make oppose. Edmund. Sir, you speak nobly. Regan. Why is this reasoned? Goneril. Combine together 'gainst the enemy; 30 For these domestic and particular broils Are not the question here. Albany. Let's then determine With tix'ancient of war on our proceeding. Edmund. I shall attend you presently at your tent. Regan, Sister, you'll go with us? Goneril. No. Regan. 'Tis most convenient; pray go with us. {Goneril. O ho, I know the riddle.—I will go. As they are going out, enter EDGAR disguised Edgar. If e'er your Grace had speech with man so poor, Hear me one word. Albany, I'll overtake you. [all but Albany and Edgar depart Speak. 40 Edgar. 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! Albany. Stay till I have read the letter.
5.1.48
K I N G LEAR
107
Edgar. I was forbid it. When time shall serve, let but the herald cry, And I'll appear again. Albany. Why, fare thee well; I will o'erlook thy paper. [Edgar goes 50 EDMUND
returns
Edmund. The enemy's in view; draw up your powers. Here is the guess of their true strength and forces, By diligent discovery; [hands a paper] but your haste Is now urged on you. Albany. We will greet the time, [he goes Edmund. 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 enjoyed If both remain alive: to take the widow Exasperates, makes mad her sister Goneril; 60 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 [he goes Stands on me to defend, not to debate.
N.S.K.L.
10
xoS
KING LEAR
[5.2.]
5.2.1
Afield between the two camps 9
'A/arum. Enter the French army, CORDELIA leading LEAR by the hand, and pass by 1
Enter EDGAR and
GLOUCESTER9
Edgar. 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. Gloucester. Grace go with you, sir! [Edgar goes 'Alarum' heardfrom the battlefield hard by, and later a 'retreat* 'Enter
EDGAR9
Edgar. Away, old man; give me thy hand, away! King Lear hath lost, he and his daughter ta'en. Give me thy hand; come on! Gloucester. No further, sir; a man may rot even here. Edgar. What, in ill thoughts again? Men 1.0 must endure Their going hence, even as their coming hither; Ripeness is all. Come on. Gloucester. And that's true too. [they go
5.3-1 [5.3.] 1
KING LEAR
109
The British camp near Dover
Enter in conquest with drum and colours, LEAR and CORDELIA as prisonersi soldiers, Captain1
EDMUNDS
Edmund. Some officers take them away: good guard, Until their greater pleasures first be known That are to censure them. Cordelia. We are not the first Who with best meaning have incurred 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 ? Lear. No, no, no, no! Come, let's away to prison: We two alone will sing like birds i'th'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 walled prison, packs and sects of great ones That ebb and flow by th'moon. Edmund. Take them away. Lear. Upon such sacrifices, my Cordelia, The gods themselves throw incense. Have I caught thee? He that parts us shall bring a brand from heaven And fire us hence like foxes. Wipe thine eyes; The good-years shall devour them,fleshand fell,
10
20
no
K I N G LEAR
5.3.25
Ere they shall make us weep! We'll see 'em starved first. Come. [Lear and Cordelia are led away under guard Edmund. Come hither, captain; hark. Take thou this note; [giving a paper} go follow them to prison. One step I have advanced thee; if thou dost 30 As this instructs thee, thou dost make thy way To noble fortunes. Know thou this, that men Are as the time is: to be tender-minded Does not become a sword: thy great employment Will not bear question; either say thou'lt do't, Or thrive by other means. Captain. I'll do't, my lord. Edmund. About it; and write happy when thou'st done. Mark,—I say instantly; and carry it so As I have set it down. Captain. I cannot draw a cart, nor eat dried oats; 40 If it be man's work I'll do't. [he goes 'Flourish Enter JLBANT, GONEXIL, Soldiers'
REGAN,
Albany. Sir, you have showed today your valiant strain, And Fortune led you well. You have the captives Who we're 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. Edmund.. Sir, I thought it fit To send the old and miserable King To some retention and appointed guard; Whose age had charms in it, whose title more,
5.3.50
KING LEAR
in
To pluck the common bosom on his side 50 And turn our impressed 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, t'appear Where you shall hold your session. At this time We sweat and bleed: the friend hath lost his friend; And the best quarrels, in the heat, are cursed By those that feel their sharpness. The question of Cordelia and her father Requires a fitter place. Albany. Sir, by your patience, 60 I hold you but a subject of this war, Not as a brother. Regan. That's as we list to grace him. Methinks our pleasure might have been demanded Ere you had spoke so far. He led our powers, Bore the commission of my place and person The which immediacy may well stand up And call itself your brother. Goneril. Not so hot! In his own grace he doth exalt himself More than in your addition. Regan. In my rights By me invested, he compeers the best. 70 Albany. That were the most if he should husband youf Regan. Jesters do oft prove prophets. Goneril. Holla, holla! That eye that told you. so looked but asquint. Regan. Lady, I am not well, else I should answer From a full-flowing stomach. General, Take thou my soldiers, prisoners, patrimony; Dispose of them, of mej the walls are thine.
iia
KING LEAR
5.3.78
Witness the world that I create thee here My lord and master. Goneril. Mean you to enjoy him ? 80 Albany. The let-alone lies not in your good will. Edmund. Nor in thine, lord. Albany. Half-blooded fellow, yes. Regan, [to Edmund] Let the drum strike; and prove my title thine. Albany. Stay yet; hear reason. Edmund, I arrest thee On capital treason, and, in thy attaint, [pointing to Goneril 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 banns. If you will marry, make your loves to mej 90 My lady is bespoke. Goneril. An interlude! Albany. Thou art armed, Gloucester: let the trumpet sound; If none appear to prove upon thy person Thy heinous, manifest, and many treasons, There is my pledge! [throwing down a glove] I'll make it on thy heart, Ere I taste bread, thou art in nothing less Than I have here proclaimed thee. Regan. Sick, O sick! {Goneril. If not, I'll ne'er trust medicine. Edmund. There's my exchange! [throwing down a glove] What in the world he is That names me traitor, villain-like he lies. 100 Call by the trumpet; he that dares approach, On him, on you—who not?—I will maintain My truth and honour firmly.
5.3.103
KING LEAR
X13
Albany. A herald, ho! Edmund. A herald, ho, a herald! Albany. Trust to thy single virtue; for thy soldiers, All levied in my name, have in my name Took their discharge. Regan. My sickness grows upon me. Albany. She is not well} convey her to my tent. [Regan is led away Enter a
HERALD
Come hither, herald—Let the trumpet sound— And read out this. [A trumpet sounds Herald [reads] If any man of quality or degree n o 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. ['First trumpet1 Again! [' Second trumpet'' Again! [' Third trumpet1 An answering trumpet heard. Enter EDGARt in armour Albany. Ask him his purposes—why he appears Upon this call o'th'trumpet. Herald. What are you ? Your name, your quality, and why you answer This present summons? Edgar. Know my name is lost; By treason's tooth bare-gnawn and canker-bit: Yet am I noble as the adversary I come to cope. Albany. Which is that adversary? Edgar. What's he that speaks for Edmund, Earl of Gloucester?
120
H4
KING LEAR
5.3.125
Edmund. Himself: what say'st thou to him? Edgar. Draw thy sword, That, if my speech offend a noble heart, Thy arm may do thee justice; here is mine: Behold, it is the privilege of mine honours, My oath, and my profession. I protest, 130 Maugre thy strength, place, youth, and eminence, Despite thy victor-sword and lire-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 th'extremest upward of thy head To the descent and dust below thy foot, A most toad-spotted traitor. Say thou no, This sword, this arm, and my best spirits are bent To prove upon thy heart, whereto I speak, 140 Thou liest. Edmund. In wisdom I should ask thy name; But since thy outside looks so fair and warlike, And that thy tongue some say of breeding breathes, What safe and nicely I might well delay By rule of knighthood, I disdain and spurn. Back do I toss these treasons to thy head, With the hell-hated lie o'erwhelm thy heart, Which, for they yet glance by and scarcely bruise, This sword of mine shall give them instant way Where they shall rest for ever. Trumpets, speak! 'Alarums'. They fight. Edmund falls. 150 Albany. Save him, save him! Goneril. This is practice, Gloucester: By th' law of war thou wast not bound to answer An unknown opposite: thou art not vanquished, But cozened and beguiled. Albany. Shut your mouth, dame,
5.3.154
KING LEAR
11$
Or with this paper shall I stop it.— [To Edgar] Hold, sir.— [showing Goneril her name on the letter Thou worse than any name, read thine own evil. No tearing, lady! I perceive you know it. Goneril Say if I do—the laws are mine, not thine; Who can arraign me for't? Albany. Most monstrous! O! Know'st thou this paper? Goneril. Ask me not what I know, [goes Albany. Go after her: she's desperate; govern her. 160 [officer goes Edmund. What you have charged me with, that have I done, And more, much more; the time will bring it out: 'Tis past, and so am I. But what are thou That hast this fortune on me? If thou'rt noble, I do forgive thee. Edgar. Let's exchange charity. I am no less in blood than thou art, Edmund j If more, the more thou'st wronged me. My name is Edgar, and thy father's son. The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices Make instruments to plague us: 170 The dark and vicious place where thee he got Cost him his eyes. Edmund. Thou'st spoken right, 'tis true. The wheel is come full circle; I am here. Albany, [to Edgar} Methought thy very gait did prophesy A royal nobleness: I must embrace theej Let sorrow split my heart if ever I Did hate thee or thy father. Edgar. Worthy prince, I know't.
ri6
KING LEAR
5-3.178
Albany. Where have you hid yourself? How have you known the miseries of your father? 180 Edgar. By nursing them, my lord. List a brief talej And when 'tis told, O that my heart would burst! The bloody proclamation to escape That followed me so near (O, our life's sweetness! That we the pain of death would hourly die, Rather than die at once!) taught me to shift Into a madman's rags, t'assume a semblance That very dogs disdained: and in this habit Met I my father with his bleeding rings, Their precious stones new lost; became his guide, 190 Led him, begged for him, saved him from despair; Never (O fault!) revealed myself unto him Until some half hour past, when I was armed. Not sure, though hoping, of this good success, I asked his blessing, and from first to last Told him our pilgrimage. But his flawed heart (Alack, too weak the conflict to support) 'Twixt two extremes of passion, joy and grief, Burst smilingly. Edmund. This speech of yours hath moved me, And shall perchance do good: but speak you on; 200 You look as you had something more to say. Albany. If there be more, more woeful, hold it in; For I am almost ready to dissolve, Hearing of this. Edgar. This would have seemed a period To such as love not sorrow; but another, To amplify too much, would make much more, And top extremity. Whilst I Was big in clamour, came there in a man, Who, having seen me in my worst estate, Shunned my abhorred society; but then, finding
5.3-210
K I N G LEAR
117
Who 'twas that so endured, with his strong arms 210 He fastened on my neck and bellowed out As he'd burst heaven: threw him on my father; Told the most piteous tale of Lear and him That ever ear received, which in recounting His grief grew puissant and the strings of life Began to crack: twice then the trumpets sounded, And there I left him tranced. Albany. But who was this ? Edgar. Kent, sir, the banished Kent, who in disguise Followed his enemy king and did him service Improper for a slave. 220 'Enter a Gentleman*, 'with a bloody knife* Gentleman. Help, help! O help! Edgar. What kind of help ? Albany. Speak, man! Edgar. What means this bloody knife? Gentleman. 'Tis hot, it smokes; It came even from the heart of—O, she's dead! Albany. Who dead? Speak, man! Gentleman. Your lady, sir, your lady: and her sister By her is poisoned; she confesses it. Edmund. I.was contracted to them both; all three Now marry in an instant. Edgar, Here comes Kent. Enter KENT Albany. Produce the bodies, be they alive or dead; {Gentleman goes This judgement of the heavens, that makes us tremble, 230 Touches us not with pity, \notices Kent] O, is this he?
Ii8
KING LEAR
5-3.233
The time will not allow the compliment Which very manners urges. Kent. I am come To bid my king and master aye good night. Is he not here? Albany. Great thing of us forgot! Speak, Edmund; where's the king? and where's Cordelia? ['The bodies of Goneril and Regan are brought in* See'st thou this object, Kent? Kent. Alack, why thus? Edmund. Yet Edmund was beloved: The one the other poisoned for my sake, 240 And after slew herself. Albany. Even so. Cover their faces. Edmund. I pant for life. Some good I mean to do, Despite of mine own nature. Quickly send (Be brief in it) to th' castle, for my writ Is on the life of Lear and on Cordelia. Nay, send in time! Albany. Run, run, O run! Edgar. To who, my lord?—[to Edmund] Who has the office? Send Thy token of reprieve. Edmund. Well thought on. Take my sword, 250 Give it to the captain. Albany. Haste thee, for thy life! [Edgar hurries forth Edmund. He hath commission from thy wife and me To hang Cordelia in the prison and To lay the blame upon her own despair, That she fordid herself. Albany. The gods defend her! Bear him hence awhile. [Edmund is borne off
5.3-257
KING LEAR
119
'Enter LEAR with CORDELIA in his arms', EDGAR, Captain, and others following Lear. Howl, howl, howl! O, you are men of stones! Had I your tongues and eyes, I'd use them so That heaven's vault should crack! She's gone for ever. I know when one is dead, and when one lives; 260 She's dead as earth. Lend me a looking-glass; If that her breath will mist or stain the stone, Why, then she lives. Kent. Is this the promised end? Edgar. Or image of that horror. Albany. Fall and cease! Lear. This feather stirs—she lives! If it be so, It is a chance which does redeem all sorrows That ever I have felt. Kent, [kneeling] O my good master! Lear. Prithee away! J Edgar. Tis noble Kent, your friend. Lear. A plague upon you, murderers, traitors all! I might have saved her; now she's gone for ever! 270 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 killed the slave that was a-hanging thee. Officer. 'Tis true, my lords, he did. Lear. Did I not, fellow? I have seen the day, with my good biting falchion I would have made them skip: I am old now, And these same crosses spoil me. Who are you ? Mine eyes are not o' th' best; I'll tell you straight. Kent. If Fortune brag of two she loved and hated, 280 One of them we behold. Lear. This is a dull sight. Are you not Kent?
no
KING LEAR
5.3.282
Kent. The same: Your servant Kent. Where is your servant Caius? Lear. He's a good fellow, I can tell you that; He'll strike, and quickly too. He's dead and rotten. Kent. No, my good lord; I am the very man— Lear. I'll see that straight. Kent. That from your first of difference and decay Have followed your sad steps— Lear. You are welcome hither. 290 Kent. Nor no man else. All's cheerless, dark, and deadly. Your eldest daughters have fordone themselves, And desperately are dead. Lear. Ay, s a l think. Albany. He knows not what?he.says, and vain is it That we -present us to him. Edgar* Very bootless. *Enter Captain* Captain. Edmund is dead, my lord. Albany. That's but a trifle here. You lords and noble friends, know our intent: What comfort to this great decay may come Shall be applied. For us, we will resign, During the life of this old majesty, 300 T o him our absolute power; [to Edgar and Kent] to you 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! Lear. And my poor fool is hanged I No, no, no life! Why should a dog, a horse, a rat have life, And thou no breath at all? Thou'It come no more,
5.3.308
K I N G LEAR
121
Never, never, never, never, never! Pray you, undo this button. Thank you, sir. Do you see this? Look on her! Look—her lips! 310 Look there, look there! Edgar. He faints! My lord my lord! Kent. Break, heart! I prithee break. Edgar. Look up, .my lord. Kent. Vex not his ghost: O, let him pass; he hates him, That would upon the rack of this tough world Stretch him out longer. [Lear dies Edgar. He is gone indeed. Kent. The wonder is he hath endured so long; He but usurped his life. Albany. Bear them from hence. Our present business Is general woe. [To Kent and Edgar] Friends of my soul, you twain Rule in this realm, and the gored state sustain. 320 Kent. I have a journey, sir, shortly to go: My master calls me; I must not say no. Edgar. 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. The bodies are borne out, all follow with '
122
THE COPY FOR KING
LEAR,
l6o8 AND 1623 The play was first published in 1608. Two quarto editions exist bearing this date, the one with a long, the other with a short, imprint. The former is known to be correctly dated, and to be thefirstedition—Q 1; while the latter is known to be falsely dated, to have been printed in 1619, and to be the second edition—Q 2, a reprint of Q i. 1 Ever since, in 1885, P. A. Daniel published his introduction to the Praetorius facsimile of Q 1, the theory has been widely held that the Lear text given in the 1623 folio (F) was printed from a copy of Q 1 which had been edited by hand so as to bring it into general accord with an official prompt-book (though the editor on occasion failed to make necessary corrections). Q 1 survives in a dozen copies, amongst which there are textual differences. In certain formes, proofcorrection took place after the printing had been begun, and the type was altered before the printing was completed. Uncorrected and corrected sheets were bound up indiscriminately. This proof-correction was erratic. Sometimes the corrector recovered the reading of the copy. Sometimes he left errors unaltered. And sometimes he changed erroneous readings by conjecture rather than in the light of the copy—for example, the original 'crulentious' in 3. 4. 6 is obviously a misreading of 'contentious' (the F word), and the pressreader's 'tempestious' is a conjecture, involving tauto1
See A. W. Pollard, Shakespeare's Fight with the Pirates (1930, 1937), pp. viii ff.; E. K. Chambers, William Shakespeare (1930), I, 133 ff.
KING LEAR, 1608 AND 1623
123
logy ('tempestious storme'). The variants within Q 1 have been exhaustively discussed by Sir Walter Greg.1 If F repeats an error originally made by the Q 1 compositor and properly corrected from the copy by the press-reader, the probability is that F was set up from a Q 1 with the relevant forme in its uncorrected state. Daniel cited a case in point at 5. 3. 46, where Q 1 uncorrected has Bast. Sir I thought it fit, To saue the old and miserable King to some retention, and Q 1 corrected has Bast. Sir I thought it fit, To send the old and miserable King to some retention, and appointed guard, The added words are metrically necessary, and are no doubt authentic. F agrees with the uncorrected version in omitting them, and in setting up 'To...retention.' in a single line-space. Unless we assume that someone involved in the transmission of F independently overlooked the same words as the Q 1 compositor had originally overlooked, and independently produced the same anomalous lineation—and such coincidence is surely incredible—we must suppose that here F depends directly on a copy of Q 1 with the outer forme of sheet K, uncorrected. Again, if F repeats or conjecturally emends a reading in a corrected forme of Q 1, this reading being a conjecture or blunder of the Q I press-reader, the probability is that F was set up from a Q 1 with the relevant forme in its corrected state. Greg* points to 1.4. 344, where Q 1 uncorr. has 'alapt', Q 1 corr. 'attaskt', and F 'at task'. He argues cogently that the copy for Q 1 1
In The Variants in the First Qgarto of 'King Lear* (Bibliographical Society, 1940). a Op. tit. pp. 141-2, 153-5.
124
T H E COPY FOR
must have had 'ataxt', that the press-reader's 'attaskt' is a conjectural alteration, and that F's 'at task' is a conjectural emendation of that. We must suppose that here F depends on a copy of Q i with the outer forme of sheet D corrected. A not inconsiderable number of errors common to F and Q I corroborates the bibliographical connection. But F is not a reprint of Q I —that is obvious at a glance. There are large numbers of textual variations between them; and underlying F there clearly seems to be a prompt-book. F lacks some 300 lines present in Q 1. No one, so far as I know, doubts that these are genuine, or at least reflect Shakespearian lines. Some of the F omissions may be accidental, but most of the lengthier ones have the appearance of theatrical cuts. Sir Edmund Chambers suggests that some may be the result of censorship, but, he says, 'in the main we probably have to do with ordinary theatrical cutting'. 1 Again, in F there are indications of adaptation to the needs of a cast smaller than that required by Q 1 . In 4.7 Q1 requires a Doctor and a Gentleman: F requires only the Gentleman, who gives the speeches of both; but when in F Cordelia says to the Gentleman 'Be gouern'd by your knowledge,' she is clearly speaking to a person with medical training. Some of the F omissions leave lacunae and awkwardnesses in the text—showing that they are in fact omissions from F and not additions to Q 1. There is no basis for any theory of a Shakespearian revision separating Q 1 and F (apart from whatever share Shakespeare may have had in the work of abridgement). If F gave a Shakespearian revision of the Q 1 text, or Q 1 of the F text, the most obvious feature of the revision in either case would be a tendency to very frequent synonym-substitution; and here Chambers's words (in connection with Richard III) are surely final. ' I cannot,' he says,* 're1 Op. cit. r, 467. * Ibid. p. 298.
KTNG LEAR,
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concile with any reasonable conception of Shakespeare's methods of work a revision limited to the smoothing out of metre and the substitution of equivalent words, without any incorporation of any new structure or any new ideas. Nor can I think that either Shakespeare or any one else at the theatre would have thought it either worth while or practicable to make actors relearn their parts with an infinity of trivial modifications.' When I was preparing the edition of Lear which I published in 1949, Daniel's theory of the copy for F was orthodox doctrine, and, like others (including Chambers and Greg), I accepted it. But it must be modified. Daniel himself was aware of passages in which F shows bibliographical links not with Q 1 but with Q 2. He did not, however, grapple seriously with the problem. In 1931 Dr Madeleine Doran brought forward more cases of significant agreement between F and Q 2 against Q 1 ? She found the relationship between F and Q 2 'puzzling', but suggested that the F compositor 'occasionally referred to a copy of Q 2'. Fuller investigation, however, suggests that F's debt to Q 2 is more extensive than a matter of occasional consultation; and in a recent article3 Dr A. S. Cairncross has convincingly argued that F depends at some points on an edited copy of Q 1, and at other points on an edited copy of Q 2. The links with Q 2 are frequent and impressive; but Q 1 is certainly involved as well. For one tiling, at 5. 3.47 Q2 reads To send the olde and miserable King To some retention, and appointed guard. Cairncross thinks of the editing as having been done in the printing-house, with 'the editor correcting in s In The Text of1 King Lear' (1931), pp. 109 ff. 3 'The Quartos and the Folio Text of "King Lear"', R.E.S. new ser. vi, no. 23 (July 1955).
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advance on one quarto, and handing it to the compositor while he proceeded to correct the other'. But if the prompt-book was actually in the printing-house why should the F compositor(s) not have used it itself? It Was the prompt-book text that was to be reproduced in F ; and the prompt-book itself must surely have been clearly legible1—as much to compositors as to prompters. On the other hand, the players, regarding the promptbook as a precious possession, might well have preferred to keep it inside the theatre. One cab imagine a scribe in the theatre editing a number of pages of a Q i, taking the Q i to the printing-house, then editing a number of pages of a Q 2, takmg the Q 2 to the printing-house and recovering the Q 1, and so on. Or the leaves of the prompt-book might have been parcelled out between two scribes working in the theatre, the one editing pages of a Q 1, the other of a Q 2. But a further complication must be faced. The Shakespeare first folio was printed in the shop of William Jaggard. Since the publication in 1932 of E. E. Willoughby's book The Printing of the First Folio of Shakespeare it has been common knowledge that two compositors were involved—A and B, each with his own spelling preferences. And other compositors may have been involved in places.3 It is believed by many that F Lear was set up entirely by B? But in an important * Cf. R. B. McKerrow in The Library, 4th ser. xil (1931-2), 264—'It is a point that must be insisted on that no copy but a good, orderly, and legible one could possibly serve as a prompt-copy.' * Cf. Alice Walker, Textual Problems of the First Folio (1953), p. 8: 'It is still doubtful, I think, how many hands •were engaged in the setting of the Folio between the start made in 1621 and its completion in 1623.' See also Fredson Bowers, Textual & Literary Criticism (1959), p. 78. 3 See, for example, Miss Walker, op. cit. p . xz.
KINO LEAR, 1608 AND 1623 127 article published in 19531 Dr Philip Williams argues that A was implicated also. The evidence seems to me impressive. Spelling-tests divide Troi/us between A and B with great precision. In i?'s passages the entrance stage-directions are centred in the column with almost complete accuracy, but A does not usually trouble to centre them accurately. Williams points to pages of F Lear where the entrances are (with just a few exceptions) well centred; and on these pages there is a preponderance of spellings usually favoured by B. He points to other pages where imperfectly centred entrances are characteristic, and where at the same time a higher proportion of A's favourite spellings is found. That more than one compositor was involved seems certain. Now in Q 1—and Q 2—the name of Lear's eldest daughter is always 'Gonorill', and if abbreviation reaches the fourth letter that letter is always *o\ In F the name is invariably 'Gonerill', and in abbreviation the fourth letter if present is always ' e \ Williams argues that 'it is difficult to believe that two (or more) compositors should have consistently made this spelling change; it is impossible to believe that a corrector of Q 1 should have marked this change throughout the play, even in the speech-headings. It therefore seems safe to conclude that in the copy from which F was set, the name was consistently spelled Gonerill.f And so he thinks of F as having been printed from manuscript copy. Q 2 was, like F, produced in Jaggard's shop. Williams emphasizes that Q 2 was set up, from Q I, by B; and he says—'The 1619 quarto of Lear therefore supplies the evidence for what Folio Compositor B would do when he set directly from Q 1 of Lear. What he did has little if any resemblance to what he did in those parts oiLear set by him four years later.' 1
In Shakespeare Quarterly, IV (October 1953).
N.S.K.L.-II
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Williams takes four character-names—Albany, Gloucester, Kent, and Tom—and compares their typography in F and Q I throughout the play. From 3. 4. 129 to 4.6.247 F, in the dialogue, prints Gloucester, Kent, and Tom invariably in roman, whereas these names are invariably in italic in Q 1. It is true that on occasion, earlier and later than this stretch of text, F prints in roman one or another of these names which appears in italic in Q 1. But the stretch from 3.4.129 to 4. 6. 247 is remarkable in that the setting of the relevant names in the dialogue is always in roman—within these limits it is not a sporadic phenomenon. Williams suggests, plausibly, that here F depends directly on manuscript copy in which the scribe had not written the names in question in Italian script. That it was not a matter of the printinghouse having temporarily run out of italic type is indicated obviously by the fact that in the lengthy passage with which we are concerned italics appear in the normal way in stage-directions, speech-headings, and other proper names within the speeches. The hypothesis that Williams suggests is that 'in 1623, the prompt-book of King Lear-was a conflation of "good" pages from Q 1 supplemented by inserted manuscript leaves to replace corrupt passages of Q 1. Reluctant to let the official prompt-book leave their possession, the company permitted a scribe to make a transcript of this conflated text to serve as copy for the First Folio.' (The 'good' pages of Q 1 would themselves, presumably, require some editing before serving in the alleged prompt-book.) Critics sympathetic to Williams's hypothesis must, I think, modify it in two ways. First: on the basis of the findings of Cairncross, the prompt-book postulated by Williams must be supposed to have contained some pages of a Q 2 as well as some pages of a Q 1. Secondly: if F depends directly on manuscript copy, there would
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appear to have been more than one scribe involved in the transcription; as we have seen, the passage from 3.4.129 to 4. 6. 247 exhibits consistently a characteristic found only sporadically in the remainder of the text. Williams!s theory, thus modified, may seem to the reader to be over-complicated and distinctly improbable. The theory has indeed been adversely criticized. Thus Cairncross notes that compositor B (involved, on Williams's admission, in the crucial stretch of text— 3. 4. 129 to 4. 6. 247), had already in Q 2 shown a disposition on occasion to set in roman proper names that had appeared in italic in Q 1. Thus Cairncross thinks of B as merely carrying further in F a tendency he had already displayed in £) 2. But that does not explain why the tendency in F should be so remarkably exemplified in a limited number of names in one continuous passage, and nowhere else so consistently. Mr J. K. Walton allows that two compositors were concerned in F Lear, but argues against the notion of manuscript copy.1 Neither Williams nor Walton envisages Q 2 copy as a contributory factor. As regards the nature of the copy, agreement has not been reached among critics. All we can be sure of, I think, is that at certain points F depends, directly or indirectly, on edited pages of a Q 1, at other points on edited pages of a Q 2, with the editing reflecting the text of an official prompt-book, and with a certain element of inefficiency and error in the editing to be taken account of. It is uncertain whether what was sent to the F printing-house was these edited pages themselves, or a transcript of them. And it is uncertain whether there are any passages in F which can be held not to depend on edited quarto at all, but to depend on manuscript pages of prompt-copy or on a transcript of 1
See his book The Copyfor the Folio Text of Richard UV ) PP. *5 6 ff-
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manuscript pages of prompt-copy (cf. Williams's theory, above). The matter remains subjudice. From what sort of copy was Q i printed ? Pollard declared that 'save for the mistakes in the uncorrected sheets the text is satisfactory',1 but this is by no means a universally accepted view. Though it has been suggested that Q I was printed from much revised and very untidy foul papers,2 the most widespread theory probably is that it gives a reported text. Q I is full of memorial corruptions of various kinds; yet, though carrying most of the marks of a report, it is not of the same order of depravity as the undoubted 'bad quartos'. There is no significant variation of standard between characters which would suggest memorial reconstruction by one or a small number of actors. Chambers thought that 'possibly it was produced by shorthand and not memori zation'; 3 and Greg formerly argued for the shorthand theory,4 originally advanced by Schmidt in 1879.5 J. Q. Adams regarded the text as having been procured 1
Shakespeare Folios and Quartos (1909), p. 76. * This view was taken by Miss Doran in the volume referred to in note 2, p. 125 above. But in fairness to her it must be noted that subsequently, in a review of Greg's Variants (see note 1, p. 123 above), she said—'The status of the quarto needs re-examination. My own position, stated in 1931, that it represents Shakespeare's much-revised autograph, now appears to me dubious' (R.E.S. XVII (1941), 474). 3 Op. cit. r, 465. 4 See Neopkilologus, XVIII (1933), 241 ff.; The Library, 4th ser., XVII (1936-7), 172 fit.; Variants, p. 138; The Editorial Problem in Shakespeare (1942), pp. 88 ff. But he has subsequently disallowed the theory; see his recent book The Shakespeare First Folio (1955), p. 380. 5 See his Zur Textkritik des 'King Lear', and Furness's New Variorum Edition of King Lear (1880), pp. 367 ff
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by means of Bright's Gharacterie? but this idea was effectively disposed of by Miss Doran,3 and it was John Willis's much more efficient shorthand system that Greg postulated. But even this is too cumbersome a system to yield a text of the degree of fullness and accuracy with which Q 1 confronts us.3 In my 1949 edition I adopted for Q 1 a theory which, had already been advanced by Dr JD. L. Patrick to explain Q Richard III,4 namely that the text is a memorial reconstruction made by the whole company. I thought of the company as being m the provinces, temporarily deprived of its prompt-book, and desirous of producing a new one; and I imagined its personnel gathered round a scribe, each actor dictating his own speeches in a kind of performance without action. The Q 1 text as it stands could hardly have served in manuscript as a prompt-book: some stages-directions are too vague, various necessary entrances and exits are omitted, and the quarto is not always consistent in the ways in which it refers to this or that character in stage-directions and speech-headings; in addition, the manuscript from which Q 1 was printed seems to have been extremely untidy and difficult to read, at least in places—and legibility is a sine qua non in a prompt-book. I was forced to suggest, therefore, that the scribe wrote down (as best he could) all that he heard (or thought he had heard) in a very hasty manner, and then later produced the required prompt-book by transcribing his work with the necessary modifications. This theory is not impossible, but it is cumbersome. And if the company's 1
See Modern Philology, xxxi (1933-4), 135 ff. See Modern Philology, xxxni (1935-6), 139 ff. 3 See my Elizabethan Shorthand and the First Qtfarto of a
'King Lear', 1949 (1950).
•» See his book The Textual History of 'Richard JJT
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purpose was to produce a substitute prompt-book, why is the Q I text so much longer than that of F, which, as we have seen, reflects the prompt-book in use in the early 1620's? Would the official acting version of 1607-8 have differed from that of 1622-3 a s Q 1 differs from F ? Greg speaks of the possibility of 'the two versions having been differently cut for acting'. 1 But Dr Alice Walker points out the objections to this:* What lies behind the notion of alternative cutting and two acting versions of Lear seems on a par with the supposition that, after a play had been written and performed, its author continued to tinker with its dialogue....Whether a book-keeper or the author added here and subtracted there, the risk of confusing the actors, accustomed to the first version of the matter, would be just the same. Furthermore, she notes that 'what is missing from the quarto seems...too pointless to represent a coherent effort to shorten the play', and she thinks, probably correctly, that the Q 1 omissions are 'not cuts but losses due to negligence'. Q 1, then, does not look like an actors' reconstruction, and my 1949 theory had better be abandoned. Some telling points were made against it in a review by Professor Leo Kirschbaum.3 Professor Kirschbaum has his own theory of the genesis of the Q I text, and Miss Walker has hers.* The former appears to think of it as a reconstruction made by a single reporter who had studied and memorized an authentic manuscript. I find this quite incredible; the text, with all its imperfections, is too full and good for 1 The Editorial Problem, p. 93. * Op. cit. pp. 51-2. 3 See R.E.S. (April 1951), p. 169. 4 See Kirschbaum in M.L.N. (1944), pp. 197-8, in his book The True Text of1 King Lear* (1945), and in P.M.L.A. (1945), pp. 697 ff.j and see Miss Walker, op. cit. pp. 37 ff.
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that. Miss Walker's theory is more plausible. She thinks that the two boy actors who played Goneril and Regan 'borrowed' the foul papers from the theatre library and made a transcript by means of the one dictating the text to the other. The one who dictated was liable on occasion, in passages which he knew well from performances, to allow his memory to usurp the function of his eyes—and so memorial corruption got into the scenes in which he had acted, but not into the others, where he would have to keep his eyes continually on the foul papers. The boy who was taking down the text might also unconsciously slip in a memorial error instead of writing down what his confederate had read out. Miss Walker claims that 'memorial contamination of the quarto is always heaviest in episodes where both were on the stage and more evident in scenes where Goneril only appeared than in scenes with only Regan'. The theory is attractive, but it requires some modification. Some of Q I'S memorial corruption is of a kind not easily attributable to Miss Walker's explanation. Thus, in a Goneril-Regan scene, Lear intends, according
to a i» To shake all cares and busines of our state, Confirming them on yonger yeares, and he goes on—> The two great Princes France and Burgundy, etc. Compare this with the F version of 1.1.3 8-44 (followed in the text in the body of this volume). Q substitutes 'of our state' for 'from our Age', memorially anticipating line 49. Q's 'Confirming' for F's 'Conferring' is probably an anticipation of line 137. Q's 'yeares' for F's 'strengths' is the kind of substitution of a pale for a vivid word that memorial reconstructors commonly make. The Q line 'Confirming...yeares,' is metrically
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defective, and it is followed by a gap, Q omitting four complete lines and two portions of lines. Q's 'The two.. .Burgundy? looks as if it had been patched up with the addition of 'two great' (not in F) in order to produce a metrically complete line after the lacuna. Q here shows a memory faltering, failing, and recovering, the recovery involving metrical patching. As I have written elsewhere,1 'We are surely not dealing with a negligent scribe relying on his memory, his eye temporarily off his copy, but with someone in desperate difficulties with nothing but the straw of a failing memory to clutch at.1 Why did Miss Walker's dictating actor, in real trouble here, not simply consult the foul papers that were in his hand ? It should be noted that the two parenthetic lines which in F contain the phrase 'Cares of State' are omitted by Q I. In memorial reconstructions we quite frequently find that a reporter at point (a) anticipates a passage belonging to point (J>), and then, arriving at point (J>), omits the passage entirely. A full examination of i. i. 35-53 suggests that the whole speech was memorially reconstructed for Q 1, and not very well. Nor is this the only case in point. Miss Walker does not in her book think of the foul papers behind Q 1 as having been in places mutilated, necessitating memorial reconstruction simpliciter; but it looks as if this will have to be assumed. And while on the one hand some memorial corruption in Goneril-Regan scenes is attributable to this, there are on the other hand memorial errors in scenes not involving these characters* —memorial errors in places where, according to Miss Walker, such should not exist. Thus I cannot think that her claim that 'Goneril' and 'Regan' were the culprits is proved. Yet, though these modifications of Miss Walker's 1 In my 1949 edition of the play, p. 24. 2 See ch. in of my 1949 edition, passim.
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theory must be made, transcription from foul papers by dictation, the persons involved having had some memorial knowledge of the play, seems the most convincing solution. Foul papers are suggested by the points which earlier in this Note were adduced as indicating that Q 1 does not convey prompt-copy. Dictation is suggested by obvious aural errors in Q 1 — for example, 'in sight' (4. 4. 27), 'a dogge, so bade' (4. 6. 157-8). Frequent dictation to the compositor seems untenable.1 Consistent pre-compositorial dictation is suggested by the fact that Q 1 contains, inside speeches, almost no punctuation-marks apart from commas (which are sometimes misplaced), and by the fact that the copy for Q 1 seems to have had the entire dialogue set out as if it were prose.3 If X dictated to T in some haste, he would no doubt read out the words in fairly short phrases, with short pauses between them: he would not indicate verse-lining, nor would he dictate punctuation (the 'borrowed' foul papers would be best returned to the theatre as soon as possible, and speed would thus be desirable in the transcription). Under these conditions, Twould probably write out the whole text in prose form, and would probably punctuate by merely dashing in a comma after each group of words read out. It would seem that he subsequently made an attempt at indication of verse-lining, perhaps by inserting diagonal pen-strokes, for Q I prints some 1580 verse lines with correct division; but his attempt at lining was hasty, incomplete, and conjectural,.for Q 1 has some 650 verse lines divided incorrectly, some 500 printed as 1
See Pollard, King Richard //.• a Ne-w Quarto (1916),
p. 35; and McKerrow, Introduction to Bibliography (1927), pp. 241-6. 1 See Greg: The Library, 4th ser. xvir (1936-7), 172 ff.j The Editorial Problem, p. 95; The Shakespeare First Folio, p. 387.
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if they were prose, and Some sixty lines of prose printed as if they were verse.1 Greg suggested that the Q i verselining was compositorial, and envisaged two compositors, one more effective in this matter than the other. But I cannot think that the task of verse line-division would be added to the burdens of Jacobean compositors; and, in any case, Williams has shown that Q I Lear was set up by a single compositor.* Ifa modern editor regards Q i as giving nothing more than a reported text, he will naturally put more trust in folio than in quarto. He must still consider each Q/F variant on its own merits, since it is always possible that in a given case the reporter has recalled an authentic reading which has been corrupted at some stage in the transmission of F. But in cases of £)/F variants between which there is nothing to choose on literary grounds, he must abide by F—unless he sees good reason to emend. And, in view of the nature of the copy for F, he must be prepared to consider emending readings which F shares with Q I (and/or Q 2)—for the person responsible for producing the F copy may at any point have failed to make a necessary correction. I followed this line (apart from the involvement of Q 2) in my 1949 edition— though not, perhaps, to a sufficient extent: for on the appearance of that edition both Greg and Kirschbaum felt that, still, too many £) 1 readings were admitted;3 1
See Edward Hubler, in The Parrott Presentation Volume, ed. Hardin Craig (1935), p. 427. 3 See 'The Compositor of the "Pied Bull" "Lear"', in Papers of the Bibliographical Society, University of Virginia, I (1948-9), 61 ff. 3 See Greg: M.L.R. XLIV (1949), 399, ' I cannot help feeling that he has somewhat underrated the authority of F, where it differs from Q'; The Editorial Problem, 2nd ed. (1951), p. [e], 'My own opinion is that Duthie still accepts
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and perhaps there was insufficient emendation. But now, if Miss Walker's theory of the provenance of the Q 1 text is (substantially) conceded, the status of that text is improved. Miss Walker seeks to improve its status, and to increase the number of Q; I readings that editors should accept. At the same time she seeks to lower the status of the F text. She thLiks of F Lear as having been set up entirely by compositor B, and she thinks of him as in certain respects distinctly unreliable. I am not convinced that she does not overrate the amount of compositorial corruption in the F text of this play; and I feel that she has too much faith in Q 1. For instance, at 1. 4. 228 ff. she proposes this1— Either his Notion weakens, or's Discernings Are Lethargied. Sleeping or Waking? Hal Sure 'tis not so. Who is it that can tell me Who I am? Foole. Lears shadow.
Lear. I would learne that, for by the markes Of soueraigntie [of] knowledge and [of] reason I should be false perswaded I had daughters. Foole. Which they will make an obedient father. Lear. Your name, faire Gentlewoman? This is a conflation, with emendation, of— Qi
either his notion, weaknes, or his discernings are lethergie, sleeping, or wakeing; ha! sure tis not so, who is it that can tell me who I am? Lears shadow? I would learne that, for by the markes of soueraintie, knowledge, and reason, I should bee false perswaded I had daughters. Foole. Which they, will make an obedient father. Lear. Your name faire gentlewoman?
too many readings from Q/: and Kirschbaum: R.E.S. new ser. II (1951), 169, 'I believe that Professor Duthie depends altogether too much on Q for his readings'. 1 Op. cit. pp. 64-6.
138 F
T H E COPY FOR Either his Notion weakens, his Discernings Are Lethargied. Hat Waking? 'Tisnotso? Who is it that can tell me who I am? Foole. Lears shadow.
Lear. Your name, faire Gentlewoman? Miss Walker is certainly right in accepting the Q i passage which F, no doubt accidentally, omits. She is also right, I am now sure, in supposing that the Lear speech which F omits is in verse—though whether the two 'of V she inserts are desirable is a matter of opinion.1 I cannot, however, agree with the text she proposes for the passage 'Either...am?'. My view of this passage is still that which is stated in my 1949 edition, pp. 3 2-4. Miss Walker, I think rightly, regards 'Lears shadow' as extra metrum. I take it, then, that she is suggesting for Lear a pentameter running— Who I am? I would learne that, for by the markes. This can be scanned, in more than one way. But I can scan it in no way that seems to me convincingly Shakespearian;* whereas F gives a pentameter that sounds absolutely right: Who is it that can tell me who I am? I feel sure that in accepting Q i ' s 'sleeping, or wakeing' Miss Walker is accepting a memorial corruption—cf. 3.6.41 ('Sleepest or wakestthou, jolly shepherd?'). In accepting Q i ' s 'sure' she is, I think, accepting one of those gratuitously inserted actors' ejaculations, recalled from performances by reporters, which are not 1
See my note ad loc. * On the other hand 'I would...markes' can be convincingly scanned— I would iearne that, | for by the markes. The succession of single strong syllables is dramatically effective in the context.
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infrequent in 'bad' texts, Q 1 Lear included. The Q I text here is thoroughly corrupt. In the case of this play, eclecticism is obviouslynecessary; and the judgements of individual editors will differ. In preparing this volume I have carefully considered every Q/F variant. In my judgement, sometimes Q and sometimes F is preferable. It seems to me that the variants in the latter category are very much more numerous than those in the former. Thus where there appears to me to be absolutely nothing to choose between a Q and an F reading, I must follow F. This accords with the opinion of Chambers, who, comparing Q and F, says1— There are a good many verbal variants, and where one is clearly wrong, the better reading, except for a dozen or score of cases, is in F . Subject, therefore, to its usual sophistications, F must have the preference where the variants are indifferent.
Q has had, and still has, its champions. Van Dam regarded its text as superior to that of" F. 2 Mr Ridley based his New Temple edition (1935) solidly on Q. Miss Walker is much drawn towards Q. The editing of Lear is a difficult task; and the text here presented makes no pretence to being other than tentative and provisional.
G.I.D. In the readings and textual notes for which I am responsible, marked '[J.D.W.]', I have endeavoured to follow the principles above-stated, observing that they involve the probable existence of a good many 'common errors', i.e. errors common to Q and F . _ _ _„ J. D» W• Op. cit. I, 465. * See his monograph, The Text of'Shakespeare's 'Lear* (vol. X of Materialsfor the Study of the Old English Drama, Louvain, 1935). x
140
NOTES All significant departures from F are recorded, insignificant ones and irregularities in verse-lining being generally ignored. Q readings are only cited when they have been accepted by us, or by The (old) Cambridge Shakespeare, that is the standard text of the late nineteenth aud early twentieth centuries, or when they have some other bearing upon the present text. Readings common to F and Q are cited in F spelling. Readings other than those of F and Q are, when cited, followed by the name (within round brackets and usually in an abridged form) of the text or editor responsible. Round brackets are similarly used when the actual words of an authority are quoted in the commentary; square brackets implying a more general acknowledgement. The initials G.I.D. or J.D.W. denote a new emendation or conjecture by one or other of the present editors, while these initials followed by < and the name of an earlier editor imply the revival of a reading or conjecture hot since generally accepted. The sign < means 'derived from' and > 'followed by*. Formulae like '(+most)' or '(+Camb.)' signify that most editors or at least all those who follow the old Cambridge Shakespeare accept a certain reading. Finally '1949 ed.'=Shakespeare's 'King Lear1', by G. I. Duthie (1949), upon which the present text is immediately based. F stands for First Folio (1623); F 2, F 3, F 4 for the Folios of 1632,1663,1685; Q for First Quarto; Quncorr. and Q corr. for variant readings in different copies of Q 1 (see pp. 122ff.); Q 2 for Second Quarto, etc.; G. for Glossary; S.D. for Stage-direction; S.H. for Speech-heading; Sh. for Shakespeare or Shakespearian; sp.=spelling or spelt. Common words (for example,
NOTES
141
prob.=probably, wh.=which, subs.=substantially), together with names of characters, the plays and poems of Sh., and other well-known works, are also usually abbreviated; for example F.^.^The Faerie Qyeene. The following is a list, with abridged titles, of authorities cited:—Abbott=A Shakespearian Grammar, by E. A. Abbott (1889); AL-ed. of Sh. by Peter Alexander (1951); Aspects•=Aspects of Sh. (Brit. Academy Lectures, 1930); A.W.=Walker, A. (q.v.); Bald=ed. by R. C. Bald; Barker=G.-B. (q.v.); Blunden=<S"i.'.r Significances (1929) ap. Bradby, Sh. Criticism (1919-3 5 ) ; Bradley=Shakespearean Tragedy, by A. C. Bradley (1904); Cairncross = ' The Quartos and the Folio text of "King Lear'", by A. S. Cairncross, R.E.S. new ser. vi (July 1955)5 Camb. The Cambridge Sh. (3rd ed. 1891-3); Cap.=ed. of Sh. by Edward Capell, 1768; Cap. Notes=Notes and Various Readings to Sh., by Edward Capell (1774-80); Chambers, El. St. = The Elizabethan Stage, by E. K. Chambers (4 vols. 1923); Chambers, Med. St. —The Medieval Stage, by E. K. Chambers (2 vols. 1903); Chambers, Wm. Sh.^ William Sh., Facts and Problems, by E. K. Chambers (2 vols. 1930); Chambers, R. W., King Lear•=King Lear; W. P. Ker Memorial Lecture, by R. W. Chambers (Glasgow, 1940); Chambers, R. W., Man's Unconquerable Mind (1939); Clarke=ed. of Sh. by Charles and Mary Cowden Clarke, 1864; Coleridge ^Coleridge's Sh. Criticism, ed. by T . M. Raysor (2 vols. 1930); Coll. - e d . of Sh. by J. P. Collier (2nd ed.) 1844; Craig=ed. by W. J. Craig (old 'Arden Sh.') 1901, see also O.S.; Daniel, Q. facs.=Introd. to the Praetorius facsimile of Q 1 by P. A. Daniel (1885); Daniel, TimeAnal. = Time-analysis of Sh.'s Plays, by P. A. Daniel (1877-9); Delius=ed. of Sh. by N. Delius (1854); D.N.S.-ed. by D. Nichol Smith ('Warwick Sh.'), n.d.j
142
NOTES
Douce=Illustrations of Si., by Francis Douce (1839); Drayton, Polyolb.^Tke Poly-Olbion, by Michael Drayton (1612, 1622) [cited from ed. by R. Hooper, 1876]; Diyden = The Poems of John Dry den, ed. by James Kinsley (4 vols. 1958); Dyce—ed. of Sh. by Alexander Dyce (1857); E.D.D. = The English Dialect Dictionary, by Joseph Wright (6 vols. 1898-1905); Edwards =Cz»e».r ofCriticism, byT. Edwards (1745); Florio's Montaigne=trans, of Montaigne's Essays by J. Florio, 1603 [cited from 'Tudor Trans.']; Furn.=ed. by H. H. Furness, ('Variorum Sh.') 1880; G.-B.= Prefaces to Sh. (1st ser.), by H. Granville-Barker (1927); Gordon, Sh. Com.=Sh. Comedy, by G. S. Gordon (1944); Greg, Ed. Prob.=The Editorial Problem in Sh., by W. W. Greg (1942,2nd ed. revised, 1951); Greg, F.F.=The Sh. First Folio, its Bibliographical and Textual History, by W. "W. Greg (19 5 5 ); Greg, Dr Faust. =Marlowe's Doctor Faustus, ed. by W. W. Greg (1950); Greg, Lib.=*'Date of King Lear and Sh.'s use of earlier versions of the story', by W. W. Greg, The Library, 4th ser. xx, 377-400; Greg, Variants=The Variants in the First Sfj/arto of' King Lear' by W. W. Greg, 1940; (as at p, 123, n. 1.); Han.=ed. of Sh. by Thomas Hanmer (1743); Harsnett —A Declaration of Egregious Popish Impostures, by
Samuel Harsnett (1603) [cited from K. Muir's ed. of K.Lear, App. 7,or from his art.in R.E.S.(i95i), pp. 11— a 1]; Herf. =ed. by C. H. Herford ('The Eversley Sh.'), 1900; Hudson=ed. by H. M. Hudson (1879); J.=ed. of Sh. by Samuel Johnson (1765); J.C.M.=J. C. Maxwell (priv. contributions); Jennens=ed. by Charles Jennens (1770); Jonson=ite# Jonson, ed. by Herford and Simpson (11 vols. 1925-52); Judges=!T/k Eliz. Underworld, by A. V. Judges (19 3 o); K.=ed. by G. L. Kittredge (1940); Kirschbaum=r
NOTES
143
ed. of Sh. by Charles Knight (1867); Kokeritz=Sh.'s Pronunciation, by H. Kokeritz (1953); Leir=The True Chronicle History of KingLeir and his Daughters (1605) (Malone Society Reprints, 1908); \jmt\iiaim = Costume in Elizabethan Drama, by M . C. Linthicum (1936); Mal.=Boswell's Variorum ed. of Malone''s Sh., 1821; M.ason = Comments on Several Editions of Sh.'s Plays, byJ.M. Mason (1807); M.L.R. = The Modern Language Review, Moberly=ed. by C. E. Moberly ('The Rugby Sh.') 1876; Muir=ed. by Kenneth Muir('NewArden Sh.'), 1952; ibid.=art. on 'Samuel Harsnett and King Lear\ in R.E.S. (1951); M.S.R. = Malone Society Reprints; Noble—Sh.'s Biblical Knowledge, by Richmond Noble (1925); O n . = i Sh. Glossary, by C. T . Onions (1911); O.D.E.P. = rA? Oxford Dictionary of English Proverbs (1948); O.E.D. = I^
144
NOTES
Montaigne, Tby George Coffin Taylor (1926); Theob.** ed. of Sh. by L.Theobald, iy^;TiHey=J Dictionary of ike Proverbs in England in the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries, by M. P. Tilley (1950)5 TJu.S.^The Times Literary Supplement; T.R.=The Troublesome Raigne of King John (1591) (Praetorius Facsimile, 1888); Tyrwhitt=Observations and Corrections upon some Passages of Sh., by Thomas Tyrwhitt (1766); Van D a m = 7 ^ Text of KingLear ('Materials for the Study of Old English Dramas'), by B. A. P. van Dam (1935); Ver.=ed. by A. W. Verity ('Pitt Press Sh.'), 1897; Walker, A.=Textual Problems of the First Folio, by Alice Walker (1953); Walker, S . = ^ Critical Examination ofthe Text ofSh., by W. Sidney Walker (1860); W.A.W. (see Wright); Warb.=ed. of Sh. by William War burton (1747); Welsfbrd - The Fool; his Social and Literary History, by Enid Welsford (1935); Wright=» ed. by W. Aldis Wright ('Clarendon Sh.'), 1876. Names of the Characters. Rowe first supplied a list, imperfectly. 'Leir', the sp. of the old play, of Holinshed, and (as 'Leyr') of Spenser (F.Q. 11, x, 27) crops up occasionally in Q though 'Lear' is the usual form, as it is invariably in F. ' Gonorill', which is the sp. in Q, is that of Holinshed also and Spenser. The name 'Oswald' is only found in the F text at 1. 4. 314, 328, 344, where he is called for; he is always' Steward' or its abridgement in S.D.'s and S.H.'s elsewhere. SeeGreg,2 r J r .pp. 378, 385-80 for other variations, none of much significance. Punctuation. For that of Q see p. 13 5. The F collator, helped of course by the prompt-book, tidies this up fairly successfully. The punctuation of the present text on the whole follows that of the 3rd edition (1891-3) of the standard old Cambridge Sh. and the F punctuation is only recorded when it suggests a different interpretation of the context from that of our own.
NOTES
145
Acts and Scenes. Q has no divisions. Those in F have been generally followed by edd., except that after Scena Secunda it has no later divisions in Act 2. See head-note 2. 3. Granville-Barker (p. 145) suggests that this play should be performed with only one definite interval— at the end of Act 3. ' T o this point the play is carried by one great impetus of inspiration, and there will be great gain in its acting being as unchecked. If the strain on actors or audience seems to be too great, I should choose a breathing space after Act 1, scene ii, for all the Folio's authority to the contrary. But the strain should not be excessive upon either audience or actors.' Lineation. Verse divisions being often absent in Q or when present incorrect as often as not, the F collator found a good deal to do in this respect; and on the whole did the work well. The lineation has however been still further regularized in the old Cambridge Sh., and we have here generally followed its example, only recording the F differences when they raise points of interest. Stage-directions. So far as is convenient in a modem ed. for readers, F and Q stage-directions are utilized in the text, their presence being indicated by inverted commas. When those of F are not so used they are cited in the notes; those of Q being cited only when of special interest* 1. r S.D. Loc. (after Cap., 'A Stateroom in...'). Entry (F) K. gives 'Edmund stands back.' Coleridge (1, 56) says that Glo. speaks in Edmund's presence about his birth with 'a most degrading and licentious levity*. Some are doubtful whether the subject wd be thought too delicate for discussion in Shu's day. But cf. 'blushed ...brazed' Ql. 9-10).
146
NOTES
x.x.
5. equalities...that i.e. their shares are so precisely balanced that.... equalities (Q) F 'qualities'. 11. conceive you (Q, F) see G. Van Dam (p. 45) conj. om. 'you', thus giving a neater quibble in 1. 12; and 'you' may be a common error (see p. 139). 16. issue Quibble. 18-19. some year Cf. 1. 2. 5. 19-21. this,...yet was (
x.i.
NOTES
147
56. valued rich (Q) F (+Camb.) 'valewed, rich'. valued— estimated. Cf. Err. 1.1. 24 [Muir]. 60. Beyond...11 so much" Beyond comparison of any kind. Inverted commas ours. 61. Pope's 'aside', speak (F) Q (+Camb.) 'do'. 'She first asks herself what she shall say; then gently but firmly stills the question with two commands to herself (ed. 1949). Love...silent Tilley, L 165,cites Gent. 2. 2. 16: 'What, gone without a word? | Ay, so true love should do: it cannot speak; | For truth hath better deeds than words to grace it'—a perfect comment. 62. S.D. (edd.). 63-4. F puncts. 'forrests,...rich'd...Riuers,. . Meades'. 65. issues (F) Q (+Camb.) 'issue'. The plur. suggests successive heirs. Cf. 'seeds' Macb. (reprint New Shakespeare) 3. 1. 69, and Paul, The Royal Play of Macbeth, p. 176, n. 67. o/(F) Q (+Camb.) 'to'. After Cornwall? £> (+Camb.) has 'speake'; but this may anticipate 1. 85. Cf. the metrically incomplete 1. 53. 68. metal see G. 69. prize me=va.hie myself. K. takes 'prize' as imperative. 70. deed see G. 71. that=in that. 73. spirit of sense (J.D.W.
148
NOTES
I.I.
her heart in words" but her heart haslove ofa better and weightier metal' (Muir). 'Ponderous'itself suggests the balance used to distinguish false coins from genuine. Cf. Gent. 2. 2.16, cited 1. 61, n. 82. our last and least (F)=latest born and least in precedence. Camb. 'the last, not least'
x.x.
NOTES
149
intended to live with Cor. alone; her refusal to bid for her portion forces him to adopt the plan of living in turn with Gon. and Reg. [Bradley, p. 250]. rest see G. 123. S.D. (
IS©
NOTES
i.i.
censure, which is now irreuocable' with 'this ruthlesse doome', in heir (M.S.R. 11. 104-5). J.C.M. notes 'reverse...doom' in Tit. 3. 1. 24, and Rom. 3. 3. 60. 'Doom'=judgement, sentence. For 'reserve', 'state', see G. 150. Answer...judgment= 'Let my life be answerable for my judgement' (F). 152-3. Nor...hollowness <prov. Tilley, V 36, 'Empty vessels sound most.' sounds Reverb ( < F ) Q ( + Camb.) 'sound Reuerbs'. low Cf. 5. 3. 272-3, and In trod. pp. xxiv-xxv. Reverb=reverberate. A word specially coined for the occasion, poss. in order to quibble upon'verb'= word. 154. a (Q) F om. 155. wage see G. ne'er feared (Sisson
(+Camb.) 'Since'. See 1949 ed. pp. 126-7.
I.I.
NOTES
151
167, 169. vow (Q+Camb.) F 'vowes'. sentence (Q+Camb.) F 'sentences'. It is poss. to defend F by claiming the 'fast intent' (11. 37ff.) as a kind of 'vow', and a kind of 'sentence'. But this is far-fetched and an audience will only be conscious of one vow, the terrible oath in 11. 107-19, and of one sentence, that at 11. 126— 38, wh. decides the future of the kingdom. Q is also preferable on grounds of metre and style. F's plurals must be credited to comp. or scribe [see 1949 ed. p. 16j]. 171. Our potency made good=' Our royal authority maintained' (D.N.S.) 'Kent's opposition... displays Lear's incapability of resigning the sovereign power in the very act of disposing of it' (Coleridge 1, 61). 173. disasters (F)= misfortunes. Q (+Camb.) 'diseases'—prob. a memorial echo of 1. 163. 178. This...revoked A retort to Kent's 1. 163. 179-86. 'After the storm comes the equanimity of Kent's rhymed couplets' (Craig). 179. thus i.e. 'so self-willed and despotic' (Ver.). wi/t—art determined to. 180. Freedom...here. See Introd. p. xxviii. 181. 183. S.D.'s (Han.). 186. He'II...course i.e. he will continue true and plain-spoken. S.D. (i) F 'Exit'; (ii) Camb. ( < F ) . 187. sp.-hdg. Q(+Camb.)'Glost.', F'Cor.'. 189. this (F+Camb.) Q 'a', accepted in 1949 ed., now withdrawn. See Greg., in M.L.R. XLIV, 399. 193. hath (F) Q ( + Camb.) 'what', offered— (G.I.D.) Comma in Q, F. 194. less? ( < Q , F). F 4 (+Camb.) 'less.'. The query may indicate an exclamation. Burg, is taken aback by 11. 190-2—he does not know Cord, is out of favour. 195. so i.e. dear (quibble). 196. fall'n (F 3 + Camb.) Q, F 'fallen'. 196-7. there...substance i.e. that little creature has nothing but herself to offer and even that is false.
IS2
NOTES
I.I.
that...substance=that little piece of pretence sincerity. (
I.I.
NOTES
153
227. dishonoured— dishonourable. 230. still-soliciting Theob.'s hyphen. 231. That (F) Q (+Camb.) 'As'—but 'such... that' is good Eliz. and Jac. English. 236. intends? (A.W., subs.<Seymour conj.) Q 'intends to do,'; F 'intends to do:'. ' T o do', clearly a common error, makes neither good verse nor good sense. 'Cord.'s fault has been her refusal to express the volume ("history") of her love and not a refusal to say what she intended (in our sense of the word) "to do". The contaminator of the quarto had clearly in mind Cord.'s lines at 11. 223-5, but had not understood the Sh. implications of "purpose" and "intend"' (A.W. p. 7). [G.I.D. retracts 1949 reading.] 238. regards (F+Camb.) Q (+Mal. etc.) 'respects'—prob. anticipation; cf. 11. 247, 254. The 'regards' are considerations of dowry, stand (Pope +Camb.) F, Q 'stands'—a poss. Sh. plural but here prob. a common error as 'the line sounds better without the J ' (Muir). 240. Royal king {<¥) Q (+Camb.) 'Royall Leir\ F is not tautological, since 'royal' can mean 'noble, majestic, generous, munificent' (On.). Cf. 4.6.198-9; 5-3- X75- Q is prob. a recollection of 1. I. 138. 247. respect and fortunes ( < F ) =deferential esteem and material considerations. Q (+Camb.) 'respects Of fortune'—prob. memorial corruption (see 1949 ed. pp. 50-5). L. 254 confirms F. 249-50. most rich...despised Noble cites II Corin. vi. 10, 'As poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, and yet possessing all things'. 253. Gods, gods / N o t vocative; = ' O, the gods, the gods!'—who have 'neglected' Cordelia. 254. My love...respect His answer toBurg.'s type of love(1.247). 257. wat'rish Contemptuous;seeG. 258. unprized by others; precious tome.
J54
NOTES
z.i.
260. here...where Nouns. 265. Come etc. He takes Burg, by the hand. Cf. Greg in M.L.R. (1940), 444. S.D. (after Cap.) F 'Flourish. Exeunt.'. 266. jewels see G. washed sc. with tears. 269. as they are named i.e. by their proper names. love (F) Q (+Camb.) 'vse'. Cf. 'professed' (1. 270). The question of Lear's treatment has not yet arisen. See Greg, Edit. Prob. p. 93. Q prob. anticipates 1. 5. 14. 277. And well'...wanted'—And well deserve to lose the dowry you have lost (after Toilet, ap. Furn.). Some take 'want' to refer to her father's affection, but Gon. is interested in property, not love, and sneers at Cord.'s penniless condition. 278. plighted (F) see G. Q 'pleated'. Pope + Camb. 'plaited'. Gon. and Reg. have covered up their true feelings with folds of cunning. Cf. 'folds of favour' (1. 217). 279. Who...derides Which in the end brings hidden faults to scorn, who Antecedent Time, covert (J.D.W. <Mason conj.) Jennens (+Camb.) 'cover'; F, Q 'couers'—a common error. It is 'plighted cunning' not Time that covers faults. Q reads 'Who couers faults, at last shame them derides'—the reporter not realizing that 'Time' is the antecedent of 'who'. The F collator correcting 'shame them' to 'with shame' overlooked the MS. 'covert', if indeed he did not take it for an error. 280. Well...prosper. Prob. alluding to Prov. xxviii. 13: 'He that covereth his sins shall not prosper.* [Henley ap. Furn.]. S.D. (G.I.D.) F 'Exit France and Cor.'. 281. little {Y) Q ( + C a m b . ) ' a little'. 287. not (Q) F. om. 292-3. The best...rash=Hewas always hot-headed even in the prime of life. Cf. Introd. p.liv,.and 1.2.51-2.
x.x.
NOTES
155
294. Iong-engraffed ( < F 'long ingraffed') Q (+Camb.) 'long ingrafted'. See G. 'engraffed'. 299. compliment etc. Prob. sarcastic; cf. 1. 2. 23. 300. hit (Theob. < Q + Camb.) F 'sit'. See G. 'hit'. Cf. 1949 ed. pp. 169-70. 301-2. with...bears i.e.'with his usual impulsiveness' (Ver.). See G. 'carry', 'disposition', 'bear', 'offend'. 303. of it (F) Q(+Camb.) *on't\ 304. i' th' heat see G. S.D. Q, F 'Exeunt.'. 1.2 S.D. Loc. (Cap. *A Hall in...') Entry (Rowe, subs.) F 'Enter Bastard.'. 1. sp.-hdg. Q 'Bast.', throughout s c ; so F until 1. 169, where it changes to 'Edrn.'. Thou, Nature etc. see Introd. § viii. 3. Stand...custom Cap. explains 'be subject, or exposed, to the vexation of custom'. But J. and others suspect 'plague' is corrupt. If so 'pillory' (sp. 'pilorye', misread 'plauge' or 'plaige') leading on to 'curiousity of nations', wh. suggests staring eyes, wd fit the context (J.D.W.). 4. deprive me sc. of inheritance. Even if legitimate, a younger son wd not inherit. 6. base see G. 9. honest see G. 10. baseness? bastardy? (Camb.) F 'basenes Barstadie?' 13. dull...bed sc. the bed of ordinary married couples. 15. a sleep (Q, F) Cap. (+Camb.) 'asleep'. Cf.
lE.lV,^.
1. 216.
21. top th' (Cap.+Camb. <Edwards conj.) F 'to' t h ' ' , Q 'tooth'' Some explain F 'Shall to' th' as 'shall fight against', but this is absurd after 'if this letter speed',
156
NOTES
r.2.
etc. (see 1949 ed. p. 367); Sisson explains it 'shall turn into' wh. seems far-fetched. Cap. notes 'top' goes well with ' I grow', lends aptness to that exclamation, and forms a good contrast with 'base' (=low). It also supplies the actor 'with the right note of triumph' for the end of the speech [Muir]. Cf. 5. 3. 206, 'top extremity'. Sisson writes (1956) that ''to or too as a misreading of top is highly implausible'; Greg {Aspects, 1928, p. 165) that 'if the tail of the p were somehow obscured, top would naturally be misread as too'. Cf. G.I.D. 1949 ed. pp. 366-8. 23. choler France had presumably been incensed during the interview ref. to at 1.1. 299-300. See Greg in M.L.R. (1940), 444. 24. to-night=la.st night. Prescribed (F) see G. Q (+Camb.) 'Subscrib'd'—prob. anticipates 3. 7. 64, also spoken by Glo. (see 1949 ed. p. 130). 25. exhibition see G. 26. Upon the gad see G. 'gad'. 27. S.D. (
r.a.
NOTES
157
evades; J.D.W.findsF better since it marts the point at which Glo. is convinced. Edm. 'dare swear' the character is Edg.'s; that is enough. 71. Has (F) Q (+Camb.) 'Hath', before (F) £> (+Camb.) 'heretofore'. 75. declined (
*58
NOTES
x.2.
suppose an ellipse; i.e. when we are sick in fortune, [such misfortunes being] often diseases caused by our own behaviour. 124. moon and stars (J.C.M. < F 'Moone, and Starres',) Q (+Camb.) 'Moone and the Starres'. on (F) = 'by'(Q+Camb.). 126. by spherical predominance i.e. because a given planet occupied a predominant position in the heavens at the time of our birth. 128. of= to. 130. whoremaster man (Q) F'Whore-master-man*. to(Q) F o m . 134. Fut (Q) F om., Jennens (4-Camb.) ' T u t ' . *Fut' (='Christ's foot') is apt to the context while the expletive may well have been 'purged' in F. See 1949 ed. p. 170, and Greg, F.F. pp. 149-52. 135. maiden/test (F 3) F 1, Q 'maidenlest*. bastardizing 'extra-marital conception' [Muir]. 136-7. bastardizing. Edgar— Enter Edgar. Pat? (G.I.D. <Steev. 1773), F'bastardizing. Enter Edgar, Pat:', Q 'bastardy Edgar; and out'. F om. 'Edgar', but without it 'Pat' (1.137) lacks point: Edm. is not calling Edg., but is about to speak of ham. Steev. 1778+ Camb. conflate:'bastardizing. Edgar—Enter Edgar. And pat he comes*. 137. like...comedy *An allusion to the clumsy structure of the early comedies, in which the conclusion seemed to come by chance at the very moment it was wanted' (D.N.S.). 138-9. Tom 0' Bedlam see 2. 3. 14, n. 140. S.D. (G.I.D.
i.a.
NOTES
159
160. nor(F) Q(+Camb.)'or*. countenance seeG. 164. until (Y) Q (+Camb.) 'till'. 166. with i.e. even with; see G. 'mischief, 'allay*. 169-74. /...brother?
S.D. Loc. (Cap.) Entry (Coll.) F 'Enter Gonerill and Steward.' Q 'Enter Gonorill and Gentleman.* For the name 'Oswald' see p. 144. Sh. does not invent it till Gon. has to call for him. Later references suggest he is foppishly dressed (see 2. 2. 14-17, 52-5), e.g. in Alb.'s cast-off garments. 3,12,22. sp.-hdgs. F 'Ste.', Q 'Gent.*. 4. night (Q) F 'night,'. Many take 'By day and night' as an oath (cf. H. Fill, 1. 2. 213). But 'Every hour' suggests the ordinary sense of'By day and night' [W.A.W.]. 5. crime=offence. Not the strong modern sense. 11. S.D. (
160
NOTES
1.3.
20. Old fools...again Prov. Cf. Tilley, M 570, 'Old men are twice children'. 20-1. must...abused Obscure; poss. corrupt (N.B. , F)+Rowe 'disguised'. 1. as well sc. as I have disguised my appearance. well (Q) F 'will'. 2. diffuse (Theob.+O.E.D. 6) F Q (+Camb.) 'defuse'. See G. 6. So...come (F) Q om. 7. full of labours=very serviceable. S.D. (G.I.D.) < F 'Homes within. Enter Lear and Attendants.' Rowe added the 'Knights'. Lear so dressed wd at once engage King James's interest with his passion for the chase. 9. S.D. (
1.4.
NOTES
161
17. judgement 'In the Biblical sense (cf. Ps. i. 5 ) . . . Kent means that he fears God' (Noble, p. 229). 18. eat no fish i.e. he is either no papist (Warb.) or 'a jolly fellow, and no lover of such meagre diet as fish' (Cap.). For a poss. indelicate quibble see Rom. G. 'fish'. 28. countenance see G. 33-4. mar...telling it <prov. 'A good tale ill told is marred in the telling' (Tilley, T 28). 41-2. me. If ...dinner I (most edd. subs.) Q, F punc. ambiguously 'me, if...dinner, I ' . 43. knave boy. 44. S.D. (i)
i6z
NOTES
1.4.
90-1. arise, away! ( < F ) Q om. differences sc. in rank between you and the king. 92-3. have you wisdom? (Theob.+Camb. Al., Muir) i.e. are you mad? see G. 'wisdom'. F (G.I.D. 1949) 'haue you wisedome,'. 'Sh. may intend an imperative' (Schmidt). J.D.W. accepts Theob. S.D. (<Muir) Theob. ( + most edd.) 'Pushes the Steward out.' Q, F om. <SV.='that's right!' (Muir)* 95. earnest see G. S.D. i (J.), ii (F, Q). 96. S.D. (Cap. . F (+Camb.) 'Lear. Why my Boy?'— prob. ocular anticipation of 1. 107. 101. an (Pope+)=if. Q 'and', F ' & ' . smile... «7.r='take sides with the party that's in power' (K.). 102. catch cold=become cold; see G. 'cold'—• prophetic; cf. 3. 2. 68-9. 105. How now—'Hullo, how d'ye do?' (K.).- He has so far impudently ignored Lear, nuncle see G. 108-9. If I gave...myself Cf. Tilley, A 187, 'He that gives all before he dies is a fool'. See G. 'living'. 109. beg another, etc. Mai. explains'it is by begging only' he 'can obtain anything from two daughters; even a badge of folly in having reduced himself to such a situation'. 113. the Lady's Brach (J.D.W.
i.4.
NOTES
163
fitting climax to the epithets 'mongrel', 'whoreson dog', 'cur' that the angry Lear had just been heaping upon the Steward. Moreover, by 'Truth's a dog' the Fool clearly means himself, who he says in 1. 183 had been 'whipped for speaking true'. His antithesis should therefore be another person, a member of Gon.'s household, and one Lear wd know as a liar. It is this indubitably personal note behind the corrupt text that other emendations lack. E.g. Steev.'s 'Lady the brach', accepted by most edd., because 'Lady' happens to be the name of Hotspur's 'brach' (1 H. IF, 3. 1. 235), provides no antithesis either to Truth or to the Fool himself, while it leaves the Q reading unexplained. Equally lacking in satisfactory antithesis are 'Liar the brach' (G.I.D. in the 1949 ed. p. 373) and 'the lie o' th' brach' (Alice Walker, Text. Prob. p. 66) where 'lie' is taken to be a quibble on 'lye' ( = ' t h e detergent made from urine'). Finally if Sh. wrote 'the Lady's brach' the F variant is seen to be an ordinary misprint of the omitted letter type, while the Q 'Ladie oth'e brach' suggests that the reporter remembered the two names 'lady' and 'brach', remembered that one should be in the possessive case, but forgot which it was. 115. A pestilent...me! Some take this as referring to the Fool (cf. 1.137), though there seems nothing in the context to justify such an outburst. Moberly (ap. Furn.) rightly sees it as 'a passionate remembrance of Oswald's insolence'—which had been past bearing in 11. 79-95, and which the Fool's words now calls to mind, gall (F) see G. Q misprints it 'gull'. 116. Sirrah As usual the Fool inverts, applying to his master the term his master has just applied to him
( I ) ()
118. Mark it, nuncle! The speech' bids Lear be everything a Fool is not: canny, close-fisted, unsociable, strait-laced, in short a miser or usurer whose sole aim N.S.K.L.-13
164
NOTES
1.4.
in life is to make money 'breed'. Cf. Shylock at M.F. 1. 3. 93. 119. Have...slowest Hoard your goods. 120. Speak...knowest Be reserved. Cf. Tilley, A 202. 121. ozoest=ownest. 122. Ride.. .goest Presumably to save shoe leather. See G. 'go'. 123. Learn...trowest Cf. Tilley, A 202, 'Believe not all you hear.' 124. Set...throzaest 'Don't stake all at a single throw' (<Muir). Cf. 1 H. IF, 4 . 1 . 46-7, 'To set... All at one cast. 126. keep-in-a-door Cf. M.F. 2. 5. 52-4: 'Shut doors after you | Fast bind, fast find, | A proverb never stale in thrifty mind.' 127-8. thou...more...score Not just 'nonsense' (Muir) or 'nothing' (Kent) but=You'll make a score (of money) grow to more than 'two tens' (through usury). See 11. 131-2. 130-1. 'tis like...for't Cf. Tilley, L 125, 'A lawyer will not plead but for a fee'. Thus 'an unfeed lawyer' utters no 'breath*. 131-2. Can...nuncle?—as the wise man can by making more than 'two tens' out of a 'score', you is emphatic, use—interest. 133-4. nothing...nothing Cf. 1. 1. 89, n. and Introd. p. xxxix. 135-6. S.D. (Rowe) Q, Fom. so much...to i.e.he must expect nothing now, having given the land away, but before he did so the rent was as much 'something out of nothing' as the money-lender's interest. A little lesson in pol. economy. 137. bitter^sarcastic; but in 11. 139, 145 it=pitiable, grievously afflicted; see G. 138. my boy see 1. 116, n. 139. one (F) Q (+Camb.) 'foole\
i. 4 .
NOTES
16$
141-56. That...snatching from Q. F o m . (.'censored); the ref. to 'monopoly' might be thought undesirable, 'James I constantly granted them to his needy courtiers, and there was a great popular outcry in consequence' (Muir). Cf. Greg, F.F. p. 387. 141-42. That lord...thy land In Leir the king is so counselled by a lord. Sh. rejects this in 1. 1, but here puts it to a new purpose; the 'lord' being of course Lear himself. Cf. Greg, Lib. p. 387. 144. for him stand=impersonate him. 145. bitter seel. 137, n. 147. S.D. (G.I.D.) Q o m . 148. out—there! (G.I.D.) Q 'out there.'. S.D. (Coll.) Qom. 153. The Fool catches up 'altogether', substituting the sense 'the only' for 'entirely', let me sc. be the only fool. 154. out i.e. officially granted to me. on't ( Q 2 ) = o f it. Q 1 'an't'. 156. Nuncle...egg ( < F ) Q (+Camb.) 'giue me an egge Nuncle'. 161. crown (Q) F'Crownes'. 162. bor'st...back i.e. acted as preposterously as the old man in Aesop who carried his ass over the dirt instead of letting it carry him. 164. like myself i.e. foolishly. 165. whipped sc. as a lying fool. Cf. 11. 181-4. 166. 175. S.D. (Rowe) F, Q om. 166-7. Fools...foppish 'There never was a time when fools were less in favour, and the reason is that they were never so little wanted, for wise men now supply their places' (J.). 166. grace (F) Q ( + C a m b . ) ' w i t ' . J. read'grace', but when Cap. discovered in Lyly's Mother Bombie (Bond's Lyly, in, 191) ' I think a Gentleman had neuer lesse wit in a yeere', Mai. suspected 'the original [Q] to be the true reading' and thus led W.A.W. astray. But
x66
NOTES
1.4.
Lyly was prob. parodying a proverb familiar to the audience, the speaker being Silena a she-fool. In any case Sh.'s Fool is clearly himself parodying either Lyly or the original proverb: 'Fools had never less wit in a year'(Tilley,F 535). 169. Their... apish They behave so idiotically. 172. e'er (F'ere') Q (+Camb.) 'euer'. 173. mothers (F) £) (+Camb.) 'mother'. Two daughters=two mothers. Perh. the Fool recalls Lear's hope tofindwith Cord, a 'kind nursery' (1.1.123); the nurseries of Gon. and Reg. not being kind. 173-4. thou gav'st... breeches Cf. Tilley, R153, 'He has made a rod for his own back'. 17 5-8. Then... among Adaptation of the first stanza of a well-known godly Ballet of John Carelesse (1586): 'Some men for sodayne ioye do wepe, | And some in sorow syng: | When that they lie in daunger depe, j To put away mourning' [H. E. Rollins, M.L.R. (1920), pp. 87-9; cited Muir]. 177-8. play bo-peep...fools among Cf.'Bo-peep'in
J.'s Diet. 'The act of looking out, and drawing back as if frighted or with the purpose to fright some other'— wh. well describes the childish way Lear has been going on (e.g. cf. 1.1.171, n.). App. a game usual with fools as well as children. Cf. Skelton Image Hypocrisy {Wh. 11, 420), 'Thus you make vs sottes And play with vs boopeepe' [cited Tilley, B 540]. Not elsewh. in Sh. but occurs on p. 61 in Harsnett, as Muir notes, fools (Q) F 'Foole'. 183-5. they'II...peace Such has been his treatment since he came with Lear to live with Gon. Cf. 1.113, n. for...peace Perh. because he is too sad to jest. 187. zoit= judgement, intelligence. 188. S.D. (F,Q). 189-90. frontlet=lk. a band worn across the forehead; here fig. a wrinkled frown. [
i.4.
NOTES
167
X90. You (F) Q (+Camb.) ' M e thinks you*. 192-3. an...figure=& zero with no number before it to give it value; a mere cipher. Cf. Wint. 1.2. 6-9, and Tilley, C 391. 194. S.D. (Pope). 197. Mum, mum:=Hush, hush! (to himself). 198-9. He that...some, see Introd. p. xxix. nor cruml>(
x68
NOTES
1.4.
pp. 633-4), cited Pliny's Nat. Hist. Bk. x, ch. ix (sic, Holland's tr., Leob tr. xi) as the source. But that the murderous cuckoo, with the wood-pigeon (palumbd) as its victim, is found in Pliny only proves the fable to be ancient and widespread. 217. ithad(Q) F 'it'shad'. Q is better for a traditional jingle, it head...it young Here 'it' is the old genitive. 218. out...darkling Ver. cites F.Q. n. x. 30 [the story of King Leyr]: But true it is, that when the oyle is spent, The light goes out, and weeke is throwne away; So when he had resignd his regiment, His daughter gan despise his drouping day. 220. / (F) Q (+Camb.) 'Come sir, I', your (F) Q (+Camb.) 'that'. 221. F's brackets. 222. which (F) Q (+Camb.) 'that', transport (F) see G.; cf. Cor. 1. 1. 77. Q 'transforme'. 224. an ass...horses i.e. even an ass like me can see how preposterous this is. Cf. Heywood 'To set the cart before the horse' (Tilley, C 103). 225. Whoop...thee Prob. refrain of an old song, used as an ironical cry of admiration for Gon. N.B. 'Jug'=contemptuous for 'Joan', and 'Joan' often== whore. Cf. Gambys'es, 11. 2 51-2 (J. Q. Adams, Pre-Sh. Dramas): 'Rufe. I wil give thee sixpence to lye one night with me. Meretrix. Gogs hart, slave, doost thinke I am a sixpenny jug?' 226-7. Does...Does (
i.4.
NOTES
169
232-5. / would...father ( < Q ) F om. "The F comp., having set up the short speech of the Fool, may have accidentally let his eye return to the copy after the Fool's next speech' (1949. ed. p. 376). For A.W.'s emendation and lineation see Note on Copy, p. 137. Prose in Q. The scansion seems convincingly verse; the succession of strong accents underlining Lear's agonized insistence. that=i.e. who I am. He has not heard the Fool's (extrametrical) reply [G.I.D.]. Yet a problem remains; see next n. 232-4. for by...daughters K. interprets this c the outward signs of sovereignty, which would persuade me that I am Lear—and he, I know, had daughters. knowledge and reason are not to be taken in opposition with "the marks of sovereignty"'. But 'sovereignty' surely implies not self-recognition but a realization that he should command obedience and respect; and J.C.M. interprets therefore 'judging by the normal signs of sovereignty...my belief that I have daughters must be false; for if I had daughters they would obey me, but these creatures do not'. Yet this also leaves 'knowledge' and 'reason' as a loose end. Despite last note, J.D.W. finds 1. 232 unmetrical, and conj. the reporter shd perh. have written 'Of knowledge, reason—and of sovereignty', wh. wd make sense. 235. Which Antecedent ' I ' . 237. admiration = (pretended) astonishment. 240. should (Q, F) Q 2 (+Camb.) 'you should'. F poss. transmits a common error. Yet the elision of an understood 'you' is also poss. 242. debauched (Pope) F (+Camb.) 'debosh'd'. We modernize. 244. Epicurism see G. 245. Makes it (F) Q ( + Camb.)'make'. 'Tavern refers to epicurism, and brothel to lust' (Muir). 246. graced see G. 250. remainders (F) Q (+Camb.) 'remainder*.
170
NOTES
1.4.
252. know...you i.e. know how to behave and recognize that you are an old man whose foibles should not be encouraged. Note the ironical echo of 1.1. 291. 257. S.D. (F). 258. Woe that=woe to him who. O...come? om.
i.4.
NOTES
171
291. gods An oath, not vocative. 292. more of it (F) Q (+Camb.) 'the cause'. 294. As (F)=which. Q (+Camb.) 'that'. S.D. (J.D.W.) F 'Enter Lear.', Q om. 295. fifty The dismissal he has just discovered must have taken place before her demand at 11. 247—9 that he reduce his retinue 'a little'. Yet doubtful whether Sh. intended the audience to be aware of this. 297. S.D. (Theob.). 300. Blasts see G. fogs sc. plague-bearing. Cf. Caliban's curse, Temp. 1.2. 322—5. 301. untented see G. Cf. 'detested', 1. 2. 78, n. 303. Beweep Conditional. 304. loose (F + Staunton) Q (+many) 'make', prob. recollected from 1. 300. 'Loose' is a freq. sp. of 'lose', which Camb. reads and K. interprets 'waste— since these tears are of no avail'. But 'loose' (=shed involuntarily, see G.) seems best in the context. [<Muir.] 305. To...clay see G. 'temper'. Since their tears cannot 'temper' her hard heart. .305-6. Yea...this? ( < Q ) Fora. Ha!...so ( < F ) Q om. Prob. F comp. thought collator's 'Ha!...so' was meant as a substitute for 'Yea...this?'. Cf. 1949 ed. p. 172. 307. comfortable see G. 311. S.D. F 'Exit', Q om. Most edd. 'Exeunt Lear, Kent, and Attendants'. But Lear tells his 'people' to go at 1. 273. 313. you— (Theob.) F 'you.'. 314. Oswald First mention of the name in the text. Cf. p. 144. 315. S.D. (J.) more...fool Cf. Tilley, K 129. master! (
172
KOTES
1.4.
Take the epithet "fool" with you as you go!' 'Goodbye, fool as you are!' (K.). Cf. 11.148-50, and Introd. p. xxxi. 318-21. A fox...halter Now they are leaving Gon.'s house he can speak out. But Lear has not 'caught her'. A fox see Introd. § ix. 321. cap See 1. 96, S.D.n. where he also treats his cap as current coin. 321-2. halter after Pronounced'hauter','auter*. 322. S.D. (G.I.D.) F 'Exit', Q om. 323. This...counsel/ i.e. he would not insult me thus had he not been encouraged. 329. Fear too far...trust too far Cf. Tilley, F 135, 'Fear is one part of prudence'. 331. Not...taken, i.e. 'rather than always live in fear to be attacked by them' (K.). 334. unfitness— Rowe's dash. S.D. F 'Enter Steward.'. 336. Ay (
i.5.
NOTES
173
1-5 S.D. loc. (Cap.) Entry (Q 2) Q 1 'Enter Lear.% F 'Enter Lear, Kent, Gentleman, and Foole.'. I. Cornwall (G.-B.; Greg conj.) Q, F (+edd.) 'Gloster'—wh. cannot=the Duke, so gen. taken as the place, but both G.-B. (p. 229) and Greg (M.L.R. 1940, p. 434, n ) suggest it may be Sh.'s slip for Cornwall (the place), since the letter is for Corn.'s wife Reg. J.D.W. conj. that the slip was the Q reporter's, uncorrected in F. Kent and Osw. are both sent with letters to Reg. which they deliver (cf. 2.2.48) and meet outside Glou.'s castle on their return. For Kent's account see 2. 4. 26 ff. these letters=this letter (Lat. Htterae). 3. demand out of= questions arising from. 7. S.D. £>, F'Exit.'. 8. were't (Rowe+most) Q , F ' w e r t \ V=his brains (sing.). I I . thy wit sc. in posting off so foolishly to Reg. not (F) Q (+Camb.) 'nere'—wh. misses the point. 12. slip-shod see G. 15. kindly see G. this i.e. Gon. 16. I can...can tell. Cf.Tilley,K 173'I know what I know'. 17. < F Q(+Camb.) 'Why what canst thou tell my boy?' (actor's textual expansion). 19-20. Thou...face? The Fool now tries to stop Lear brooding by asking some stock 'philosophical' questions, but gives the answers a turn apt to his plight. Cf. 3. 4. 154, n. on's=of his. 22. of=on. side's^side of his. 23. smell out Cf. Tilley, S 558. 25. I...wrong. Brooding on Cordelia. 28-9. why a snail...house. Cf. Tilley, S 580, 'Like a snail he keeps his house on his head' =he is a stay-athome.
174
NOTES
1.5.
32. horns Not that Lear is a cuckold but that horns are 'the inevitable adornment of married men' (K.). 33. forget my nature sc. forget I was once her (Gon.'s) father. 36. the seven stars=the Pleiades, moe () 'on his daughter's having in so violent a manner deprived him of those privileges which before she had agreed to grant him' (Steev.). 45-6. O, let me not etc. This sudden fear is occasioned by the Fool's last remark; since 'wise' often = 'in one's right mind' being a poss. Cf. Oth. 4 . 1 . 2 39, n. (N.S.) and G. 'wisdom'. S.D. (
S.D. Loc. (Mai.) Entry (Q, subs.) F 'Enter Bastard, and Curan, seuerally.'. 1. sp.-hdg. Q, F have 'Bast/ throughout the scene. Saz>e=}Aa.y God save. 2. you, sir (
2.i.
NOTES
175
ing' ( = whispering). Cf. H. Fill, 2. I . 145; Ham. 4. 5. 89. 10-11. Have you heard tic. Cf. 3. 3. 8-9. 14. S.D. F 'Exit.', Q om. 15. The better! best! (Pope) i.e. 'so much the better! In fact, as good as it could be! Q,F 'The better best,'—a common error. 18. of ...question sc. needing careful handling. 19. Briefness...work!' = May I be lucky enough to bring it off quickly! 20. Descend! Need not. imply use of an upperstage; see Greg, R.E.S. (1940), p. 300. S.D. (Q, F) Theob. (+most) place iiere^ F at 1. 19, 21. sir Note the deference. 27. Upon ='msupport of. 28. o»'/=of it. 29-30. com ing...cunning (punct.
176
NOTES
a.i.
43. S.D. (Dyce, subs.) Q, F om. 44. lordship. Comma in Q, F. 45. that—when that; 'when' being understood from 1. 42 [Muir]. Cf. Abbott, §285, Franz, § 548. 46. *// the thunder (F) £> ( + Camb.) 'all their thunders'. F's is the 'stronger and more comprehensive expression' (Furn.). 48. to...fine, (G.I.D.) F 'to th'Father; Sir in fine,'. 52. unprovided see G. latched (F)= caught (with his 'sharp sword'). Camb. (
(J.C.M.). 57-8. uncaught;...found—dispatch. (Steev.) F ' v n caught I And found; dispatch,'. Q 'vncaught and found, dispatch,'. F, Q 'dispatch,' is a common error. dispatch Either an imperative, 'kill him'; or a noun, 'death (shall be his lot)'. 62. coward (F) Q (+Camb.) 'caytife'. stake i.e. any place of execution. But perh. Glo. wishes him to be burnt for witchcraft; cf. 11. 38-9. 68. would the reposal (F) Q (+Camb.) 'could the reposure'. 70. I should (Q) F 'should I \ 71-2. F's brackets. 71. ay, (
s.n
NOTES
177
'evil spirits', while the collator may well have misread 'spurres' as 'spirits' in the playhouse copy and so miscorrected the Q (see G.I.D.'s 1949 ed. p. 173). Muir follows F on the ground that Sh. often links 'potent' with 'spirit' elsewh., and Sisson (11, 232) agrees. Furn. compares 'pregnant spurs' with 'pregnant hinges' (Ham. 3. 2. 59). 77. 0strange (F) Q(+Camb.) 'Strong', strange^ unnatural, monstrous; with quibble on sense 'not belonging to me'. Cf. ' I never got [=begot] him' in 1.78 [1949 ed. pp. 138-9]. 78. said'he? (F) Qom. I..Mm.(Q) Fom. Prob. F comp. took collator's addition as a substitution. S.D. F 'Tucket within.', after 'seek it' (1. 77). We place as MaL 79. toiy(Q) F ' w h e r ' . 80. /0rAr=seaports. 85. S.D. (F). 87. strange news (Q) F 'strangenesse' (prob; misreading). 90. it's (F) £> (+Camb.) 'is'. 95. tended (F) Q 'tends'. The '-ed' is elided after the first'd'. Cf. Abbott §47 2 100. th'expense and waste ( < F ) = t h e power of wastefully spending; Hendiadys; Qcorr. (+Camb.) 'the wast and spoyle'; uncorr. 'these—and wast'. Cf. Greg, Variants, pp. 15 5-6. revenue Accented'revenues'. 106. It was (F) Q (+Camb.) 'twas'. 111-12. Make...please, i.e. Plan his capture in your own way, and 'make what use you like of my authority and resources for that purpose' (Muir). 114. ours i.e. one of our retinue. 116. seize on Cf. 1. 1. 251, and G. 118. you? (Q,F) Most edd. (
lyZ
NOTES
«.x.
120. prize (F, Q uncorr. 'prise') see G. Q corr. (+Camb.) 'poise'•= weight, importance. The two readings mean much the same. See Greg, Variants^ pp. 156-7. 123. differences sc. between them, which i.e. •which letters, best (F, Q uncorr.) Q corr. 'lest'> 'least' Camb. See Greg, Variants, p. 157. thought (Q) F 'though'. 124. home (F, Qcorr.) Q uncorr. 'hand', several^* respective. 127. businesses (F) Q (+Camb.) 'busines'. 128. craves Plural, craves...use=require 'to be carried out without delay' (K.). 129. S.D. F 'Exeunt. Flourish.'. 2. 2
S.D. toe. (Cap.) Entry < F 'Enter Kent, aad Steward seuerally.'. Cf. 1. 5. i,n. (adfin). 1. sp.-hdg. Q 'Steward.', F 'Stew.'. And so (subs.) for the rest of the sc. dawning (F) Q uncorr.^ 'deuen' (corr. 'euen') Greg (Variants, p. 158) accepts F as prob. correct and conj. the Q copy read 'dauen', a poss. 17th cent. sp. of 'dawn'. This was read in 1949 ed«; but J.C.M. has pointed out that 'Good deuen' is a coll. form of 'Good even'. Cf. 'godden' and 'god deuen' (Gammer Gurton's Needle, 4. 3. 5) cited O.E.D. under 'Good even'. The Q reporter has forgotten the time of day. 4. I'th'mire. Cf. Tilley, D 643 'Dun in the mire' and Rom. 1. 4. 41. 7, 9. care for A quibble—(a) like, (b) heed. 9. Lipsbury Pinfold see G. 'pinfold'. 'Lipsbury' is gen. explained (
2.2.
NOTES
179
fold;1 but here 'pinfold'=the teeth imaged as a palisade. Thus Kent means 'if I had you between my teeth',or 'in my clutches'. There is no record of a place called Lipsbury. 13-18. an eater...bawd... An outline of Osw.'s career from a menial in the kitchen to Gon.'s intimate. 14-15. three-suited', hundred-found (F 2 'threesuited, hundred pound'), F 1 'three-suited-hundred pound'. No hyphens in Q. three-suited W.A.W. notes that 'three suits of clothes a year were prob. part of a servant's allowance'; and cites Jonson, Silent Woman, 3.1,39—42.where Mrs Otter, 'treating her husband like a dependent', asks him 'Who allows you...your three suits of apparel a year? your four pairs of stockings, one silk, three worsted?'. Cf. Edg.'s words at 3. 4. 84ff. Osw. is nothing more than a menial, though he aspires to be a gentleman; cf. G. 'hundred-pound'. A rich, if somewhat frayed, doublet-and-hose wd lend point to these references. Cf. 1. 3. S.D. (head) and below 11. 54-5, n. 15-16. worsted-stocking F 'woosted-stocking', Q uncorr. 'wosted stocken', corr. .'worsted-stocken'; i.e. who usuallywears coarse stockings. Seell. 14-15,n. lilylivered Cf. Macb. 5.3.15; 2 jfif Z/7", 4.3.113. The liver, seat of courage in the old physiology, shd be red, and, in a courageous man, wd be. action-taking see G. 17. finical seeG. one-trunk-inheriting ( < F 3) F I 'one Trunke-inheriting'. I.e. having so few possessions that they can all be contained in a single trunk. See G. 'inherit'. 18. that...service i.e. ready to act pandar to master or mistress. 21. clamorous (Qcorr.) Q uncorr. 'clamarous', F 'clamours'. 22. thy addition=the honourable titles I have conferred upon you. See G.
i8o
NOTES
3.3.
27. since (F) Q (+Camb.) 'agoe since*. 29—30. make...moonshine o/Wmake mincemeat of. Lit.=make into a dish of poached eggs, .see G. 'sop'. Cf. Oth. 4. 1. 199, 'chop her into messes'. 31. S.D. (Rowe) Q, F om. 34. Vanity the puppet i.e. Gon.'Vanity'=a char, in the old morality plays, often given as puppet-shows. puppet 'a contemptuous term for a person (usually a woman)', O.E.D. s.v. i. It can also=poppet or darling; and poss. 'the puppet' shd read 'thy puppet'j cf. 'lady's brach' (1. 4. 113). 40. S.D. (Rowe) £>,Fom. 41. S.D. (<£>). 42. Part(F) Dyce (+Camb.) takes this as a S.D. 43. With you Usually explained as=The matter (i.e. my quarrel) is with you. But Kent prob. means 'I'll be with you' threateningly, which almost =*'I'll trounce you, I'll give you "whatfor"' (see On. 'with' 5) goodman boy=Master Malapert, cf. Rom. I. 5. 77, n. //(F) Camb. 'an' (
s.a.
NOTES
181
exaggeration...'; F gives' sober sense: Sh. knows that art is long. But to the actor and to the groundling two years seems an age; so the quarto substitutes "two hours", which is absurd' (Greg, Edit. Prob. p. 91). 58. o'th' (=belonging to the) F * oth", Q (+Camb.) •at the'. 61. grey beard— (Rowe, subs.) Q, F 'gray-beard.'. 62. unnecessary letter Cf. Mulcaster, Elementarie (1582; ed. Campagnae, 1925, p. 136): ' Z is a letter often heard amongst us, but seldom seen' since S gen. took its place; and Muir notes that z 'was generally ignored in the dictionaries of the time.' 63-4. unbolted see G. 65. grey beard (Q subs.) F 'gray-beard', wag-tail see G. for On.'s gloss, app. deduced from context and reflecting 1. 101, without support in O.E.D., which gives' wanton man or woman' as the common 17 th cent, meaning. Cf. 1. 4. 113, n. 68. anger...privilege Tilley, L 458, cites K.J. 4. 3. 32, 'Impatience hath his privilege'. 71. smiling Often associated with villainy in Sh. Cf. M.F. 1. 3.97; Ham. 1.5.106-8, etc., and Chaucer, Knt.'s Tale, 1141 'The smyler with the Knyfe under the cloke'. 72. rats...bite...cords Cf. Tilley, M 1235, 'A mouse in time may bite in two a cable', the holy cords i.e. the'holy wedlock bonds' (3H.FI,^. 3.243). Kent hints that Osw. is 'duteous to the vices' of his mistress (4. 6. 249-50). Cf. 1. 4. 113, n. 73. too intrince (Cap.+Camb.) F 't'intrince,'. {unloose: (F). 74. rebel sc. against Reason, which shd rule the passions. Often refers to lust; cf. M.F. 3. 1. 33; 2 H. IF, 2. 4. 347-8; All's G. 'rebellion'. 75. Bring (Q) F 'Being'. Withdrawing the 1949 note G.I.D. now assumes the collator, misreading the
182
NOTES
2.2k
prompt-book, miscorrects Q. oil to fire Cf.Tilley,O3o; All's, 5. 3. 61. 76. Renege Q 'Reneag', F 'Reuenge' (the collator misreads the prompt-book and. miscorrects Q). Cf. Ant. 1. 1. 8. Renege, affirm, Cf. 4. 6. 96-100. halcyon Cf. G. and Marlowe, J « p of Malta, 1.1. 38-9, 'But now how stands the wind? | Into what corner peeres my Halcions bill?' 77. gale and vary Q 'gale and varie', F 'gall, and varry'. Hendiadys: =varying gale, changing breeze. 78. {like dogs) F's brackets. but=except. 79. epfleptic Osw.'s smiling makes him look as if he were having a fit. Cf. the description of Malvolio smiling, Tzo.N. 3. 2. 76. 80. Smile (F4)=smile at. Q 'smoyle', F i 'Smoile'. Prob. a common error. The disguised Kent resolves to speak in dialect (1. 4. 1-2), and presumably does so; but why, in this scene, shd dialect pronunciation be indicated in this word only? Moreover, the two words were prob. normally pronounced alike; cf. 'boil' at 2. 4. 21, n. and Kokeritz, p. 217. as=as if. a Fool—whose speeches one assumes must be funny. 81-2. Goose...Camelot Not satisfactorily explained. Some, taking Camelot to be Winchester (cf. Malory, Morte d'Arthur, 11, xix) see an allusion to 'Winchester goose', i.e. syphilis (cf. 1 H. VI, 1. 3. 53; Trail. 5. 10, 5 3), but this seems pointless. Others take Camelot to be Camelford or Tintagel in Cornwall, which Sh. might well think of as the Duke's capital in the time of King Lear. If so, Kent threatens to chase Oswald from Salisbury plain, where no doubt geese abounded, to Reg.'s castle; a long drive. This would be clearer to an audience if Sh. sent Osw. with a letter to Cornwall (i.e. Reg.) in 1. 5. 1 (seen,). 95. saucy see G. 95-6. constrains...nature ('his'=its) i.e. 'distorts the style of straightforward speaking quite from its
2.2.
NOTES
183
nature, which is sincerity; whereas he mates it a cloak for craft' (Cowden Clark <Staunton). See G. 'garb'. 98. take it, so (Rowe) F 'take it so' Q 'tak't so'. 102. stretch...nicely i.e. 'are particular to carry out their courtly duties punctiliously' (Muir). 104-6. Under...front Parodies the deferential language Corn, expects, aspect=(a) countenance (cf. 11. 91-3); (£>) the position and influence of a planet ace. to astrology. Accent on second syllable. 106. flickering (Pope, 'flickering') Q 'flitkering', F 'flicking'. Alludes to the uncertainty of royal favour. front— (Rowe) = forehead. Q, F 'front.'. 107. dialect see G. 108—9. He...accent Alludes to the plain-spoken persons of whom Corn, complains (11. 93 ff.). 110-11. though.. .to't. M a y = ' even though I should so displease you by my bluntness as to entreat me to be a knave, i.e. a flatterer' (Ver.). But Schmidt took 'your displeasure' as 'scornfully opposite to the title "your Grace"',—we think rightly and ace. insert inverted commas. 116. compact (F) Q 'coniunct*. Both=in league with the king. 117. being down, insulted=1 being down he triumphed scornfully over me. 118-19. put. ..worthied him—claimed for himself so much courage, that he seemed quite the hero. Cf. 2. 4. 40 and G. 'worthy'. 120. For...subdued For attacking a man who offered no resistance. 121. in...exploit excited by this first awe-inspiring success. See G. 'fleshment'. 122-3. None...fool. i.e. Any rogue or coward can make a fool of (i.e. deceive) Ajax—e.g. as the Gk. generals do in Trot/, The suggestion that Corn, was as stupid as 'blockish Ajax', the more insulting that Ajax was N.S.K.L.-14
184
NOTES
2.2.
commonly taken as a pun on 'a Jakes', accounts for the suddenness of Corn.'s outburst of anger, otherwise odd ( < O . Jespersen in S.P.E. Tract, xxxm, 424). Neither K.'s interpretation: 'the great hero Ajax is (by their own account) a fool in comparison with them\ nor Cap.'s 'Ajax in bragging is a fool to them' seems to fit the context. And where else does Sh. see Ajax as a 'hero' ? 123. the stocks 'Formerly in great houses, as still in some colleges, there were moveable stocks for the correction of servants' (R. Farmer, 1767 ap. Furn.). In T.L.S. 30 Sept. 1949, G. M. Young cites 'briefe notes of orders to be observed in the household of the fifth Earl of Huntingdon' from MSS. c. 1604, which show that Kent's 'stocking' was 'strictly in accordance with the discipline observed in a great house of the time' [Muir]. 124. ancient (F) Q uncorr. 'ausrent' (
a.2.
NOTES
185
147. For following...legs. (Q) F om. S.D. (Pope), Q, F om. 148. Come...away Cont. to Reg. in Q, assigned to Corn, in F. Q is clearly correct since if Cora, speaks, the 'lord' he addresses must be Glo.—but he remains behind. Poss. the copy for F had 'to Corn.' as a S.D. my lord ( < F ) g (+Camb.) 'my good Lord' S.D. (Dyce, subs.) F 'Exit.', Q om. 149. duke's (
186
NOTES
2.3.
2-3
S.D. Loc. (Dyce) Schmidt's 'The same' was meant to accord with the orig. production at wh. the stocked Kent prob. remained visible quietly slumbering in the background while Edg. came on and said his lines at the front of the stage, there being, as Greg shows, prob. no inner stage then available. But a fresh loc. is better in a text for mod. readers, who might otherwise be conscious of the absurdity of the fugitive Edg. appearing at his father's front door to discuss what disguise he shall adopt. See Greg, R.E.S. (1940), pp. 301-2. 2. happy see G. 4-5. That...takingThat is not guarded most strictly in hope of capturing me. 10. Blanket Cf. 3.4.64. elf Cf. G. and Rom. 1.4. 90 'elf-locks'. 14. Bedlam Beggars or 'Abram men', vagabonds who 'feign themselves to have been mad and have been kept either in Bethlehem (=Bedlam) or in some other prison a.good time....These beg money. Either when they come at farmers' houses, they will demand bacon... or anything that is worth money. And if they espy small company within, they will with fierce countenence demand somewhat' (Harman, Caveat for Common Cursetors (1567); see J.D.W., life in Sh.'s £ng., Penguin, p. 303). Mai. cites Dekker, The Bellman of London: 'You see pins stuck in sundry places of his flesh, especially in his arms, which pain he gladly puts himself to only to make you believe he is out of his wits. He calls himself Poor Tom, and coming near any body cries out Poor Tom is a-cold.' Cf. Rom. 2. 1. 15. numbed Because exposed to the cold, mortified see G. bare (Q) F om. 17. object see G. 18. sheep-cotes (Q subs.) F 'Sheeps-Coates'.
2.3.
NOTES
187
19. Sometimes...sometime^} Q'Sometime...sometime'. Sh. need not have been exact. 20. 'Poor Torn!' 'Edg. practises the Bedlam beggar's whine' (K.) Turlygod Unexplained. Not found elsewh. 21. That's...am=As that, I can still be something; as Edgar I am nothing. S.D. Q, F ' E x i t ' .
2.4
S.D. Loc. 'Beforc.castle.' (Mai.) 'Kent...stocks' (Dyce) Entry F ' E n t e r Lear, Foole, and Gentleman.', Q 'Enter King.'. Cf. 1. 5.1-2; finding Reg. and Corn, absent from their castle Lear has followed them to the Earl of Glo.'s. Sh. does not tell us what has happened to the knights, but when Kent asks at 1. 61, the Fool hints that they have thought it better to leave the king. 2. messenger (Q) F 'Messengers'. 7. cruelgarters i.e. the stocks; with pun on'crewel', worsted (worn by menials). Cf. 'worsted-stocking knave' (2. 2. 15). 9. man's Q 'mans', F 'man', over-lusty at legs e.g. vagabonds, runaway prentices, at=in his. 11. place Quibble: (a) renk, occupation, (&) literal position. 12. To=as to. 18-19. No, no...have (Q) F om. 'Observe the climax effect in 11. 14-20; first a simple "No—Yes" (11. 14-15), then a longer statement and counterstatement, then a still longer one, and then oaths. The whole sequence bears the stamp of Sh. calculation' (G.I.D., 1949 ed.). 19. Yes, yes (J.C.M. conj.) Q 'Yes'. The counter-duplication completes the pattern. 23. upon respect=either 'to the respect due to your royal master' (cf. 2. 2. 133-4), o r ' u p o n consideration, deliberately' (cf. K. John, 4. 2. 214).
i8S
NOTES
a. 4.
30. in his haste sc. in his sweat, panf fog (Q+Camb.) F 'painting'—misreading or misprint. 32, spite ofintermission=in spite of the Fact that he was interrupting me. 33. on whose contents i.e. upon reading which. whose (Q) F 'those', 39. which (F) Q (+Camb.) 'that'. 40. Displayed so 'made such an impudent exhibition of himself (K.). 41. man see 2. 2. 118-19, n. 45-53. From F. Q om. 45. Winter's...way Wild geese fly south in autumn and north in spring. The 'geese'=Reg. and Gon.; 'winter'=Lear's troubles; and 'fly that way'=behave (revolt) like that; see G. 'fly', wild (F 2) F 1 'wil'd'. 47. blind sc. to the 'rags', i.e. their troubles. 48. bear bags=\ave the cash. 51. turns the key to=admits to her favours. 52. dolours Quibble on 'dollars'. 52-3, from thy daughters (J.D.W.
2.4.
NOTES
189
In 1. 54 the pain is climbing from below towards the heart; in 1. 117 it is rising from the heart upward. At both points Lear tries by force of will to suppress the symptoms. Hysterica (F 4) Q, F I 'Historica'—a common error. 56. element see G. 57. S.D. F 'Exit.', Q ora. 61. number (F) Q (+Camb.) 'traine'. 63. thou'dst (Fsubs.) Q (+Camb.) 'thou ha'dst'. 65. an ant... Type of wordly wisdom; see Aesop's fable of the hungry Cicada and the Ants; Prov. vi. 6 ' Go to the ant...consider her ways and be wise, which... provideth her meat in the summer', and Prov. xxx. 25. He means that the retinue, smelling that Lear's fortunes are in decay ('stinking'), have wisely left him, to make provision for the future. For 'stinking' Mai. cites All's, 5. 2. 4-5 'I am now, sir, muddied in Fortune's mood and smell somewhat strong of her strong displeasure'. The knights, referred to at 2. 4. 301, reappear at 3. 7. 16 (see n.), so the Fool may be mistaken. 66. winter Cf. 2. 4. 45, n. 66-7. follow their noses Cf. Tilley, N 230. 68. twenty see G. 69-70. when...following Cf. Ham. 3. 3. 17-22 'a massy wheel', etc. 70. following (F) Q (+Camb.) 'following it'. 71. upward (F) Q (+Camb.) 'vp the hill'. 73. I would ha' none but knaves use it, (J.C.M.) Q ' I would haue none but knaues follow it,', F ' I would hause none but knaues follow it,'. J.C.M. explains Q's 'follow' as a memorial error (cf. 11. 66, 70) and conj. that the F collator, wishing to alter Q's 'haue' to 'ha" and 'follow' to 'use', stroked out 'haue' and, writing 'ha" and 'use' close together in the margin, forgot to delete 'follow'. Thus the F compositor set up 'follow' and thought that 'hause' was to be substituted for 'haue'. 75-82. That sir...perdy. The Fool has been ironic-
190
NOTES
an-
ally recommending worldly-wise • prudence devoid of loyalty. But now he shows his true opinion—' the man who deserts a fallen master is a knave, and a fool to boot; I, the Fool, am certainly no knave.' 74, 79. 8r, 82. He uses the word 'fool' alternately in the pejorative sense (74, 82) and in the sense of the wise and loyal Fool (79, 81). The two senses seem to be fused in 1. 84. 75. sir man. 76. follows...form gives but formal service. Cf. Oth. 1. 1. 50: 'trimmed in forms and visages of duty'. 84. Not.. fool i.e. had you been worldly wise instead of foolishly loyal you would not be where you are now. S.D. ( T (prefixedto 1. 87). Om.inFandin. 1949 ed. but needed by the metre and as an aid to the sense, since it emphasises 'images', etc. The images^ very like; cf. G. 'image'. 94-5. Well...man? (F) Q om. 98. commands her service (Qcorr.) Q uncorr. 'come and tends seruise'; F 'commands, tends, seruice'. Greg, Variants (p. 162) and Sisson (11, 235) propose 'commands—tends—service'. But A.W. (p. 59) finds Q corr. 'more fitting to the context'. We agree and suggest that' tends' (Q uncorr.) may well be a memorial anticipation of 1. 259, where 'command' and 'tend' are juxtaposed, 'come and' being simply due to careless word-division, while F is a case of imperfect correction of Q uncorr. The Q corr. 'her' can, of course, rank as no more than a conj. emendation, but it is a good one— though some may prefer Alexander's (
a.4.
NOTES
191
100. that— (F) Q 'that Lear*. 106. more headier will 'too impetuous inclination' CVer.). 108. S.D. (after J.) Q, F om. Death...state/ Sh. irony. Lear's kingly power is already dead. 112. them (Q) F ' t h e m : ' . 113. presently at once. 115. Till...death i.e. till it makes sleep impossible for them. 116. S.D. F 'Exit.', Q om. 117. my heart! My rising heart! seel. 54, n. 118—22. Cry to it...hay. Hitherto unexplained, because the point of the speech, the folly of Lear's heart, has been missed. The cockney (see G.) and her brother are examples of a like foolish tender-heartedness; he goes so far as to butter his horse's hay: she cannot bring herself to kill the eels before putting them into the pastry, and when they wriggle only raps them on the head crying 'Down, naughty, skittish creatures!' Lear's heart has been as foolishly tender towards his daughters, but it is too late now to cry 'down' to it and play the stern father. The mischief is done. 122. S.D. (Cap.) F 'Enter Cornewall, Regan, Gloster, Seruants.' 123. SJ). (F). 125. jw«(Q) F'your'. 127. mother's (
19a
NOTES
a.4.
148. her.(F) Q(+Camb.)'herSir?\ 149. the house Either=our family, or the royal house of Britain. 150. S.D: (J.). Q F o m . 154. S.D. (Coll.) Q , F o m . 159. young bones=xmbom child. Muir cites Leir 844 'poore soul she breeds yong bones'; Tourneur, Atheist's Tragedy, iv, iii, 172; and Ford, Broken Heart 11, 1. 160. takingsblasting. 164. blister her! (Muir; Sisson) F 'blister.'. Q (+Camb.)'blast her pride.'. Coll.'blast her'. G.I.D. (1949 ed.) 'blister her pride' now withdrawn in favour of Schmidt's conj. 'blister pride'. J.C.M. conj. 'blister—' (with Reg. interrupting), J.D.W. feels 'blister her' is the most likely: it completes the verse line, while in correcting Q the collator may well have written 'blister' for 'blast' and inadvertently deleted 'her' as well as'pride*. After 'beauty' (1.162) 'pride' (=beaury) is unnecessary. Cf. Temp. 1. 2. 324, 'A south west blow on ye And blister you all over' and 2. 2.1-2. 165. the rash mood Cf. 1.1. 292-3. mood— (
2.4.
NOTES
193
ed.) F 1 'fickly'. Q (+Camb.) 'fickle'. The context suggests, not that Osw. will one day find himself abandoned by Gon., but rather that her favour is a diseased, repulsive thing. Cf. 'the Lady's brach', 1. 4. 113 and 'detested groom' (below, 1. 213). In con temp, script and type ' P and ' s ' being very similar, the collator may have merely altered the Q ' e ' to ' y \ 184. Who...servant Q assigns to 'Go».' on entry, reading 'Who struck my servant', etc. 185. S.D. (Fat I.183) J. placed after'here?'. 187. you yourselves (F) Q (+Camb.) 'your selues'. 189. S.D. (<J) Q, Fom. 190. will you (F) Q (+Camb.) 'wilt thou'. 193-4. O sides...hold? Cf. Tzo.N. 2. 4. 93-4, 'no woman's sides Can bide the beating of so strong a passion', and Ant. 4. 14. 39. 195. disorders This rubs in Gon.'s case (1.4.241-6) against Lear's retainers. 196. much less advancement i.e. a far worse punishment. 205. o'th' F 'oth", Q 'of the'. <wV=open air. Fresh air was considered unhealthy in Sh.'s day. 206. wolf and owl Creatures of night. 207. Necessity's sharp pinch Cf. Florio's Montaigne (Temple ed. 11,143): 'Necessitie must first pinch you by the throat' [Muir]. 208. hot-blooded(Pope) F'hot-bloodied'. Cf. 1.2. 23, n. 213. S.D. (J., subs.) Q, F om. 219. boil (Mai.) Q 'bile', F 'Byle'—correct phonetic spelling of the period. Cf. 2. 2. 80, n. 220. plague-sore Hyphen < F 3. or(F)Q(+Camb.) 'an'. The words are graphically alike. 222. come sc. upon you. / Emphatic, call it=* summon it. 230. mingle...passion dew your outbursts in the light of reason..
194
NOTES
2.4.
231. oldi.e. senile, so— (Rowe+Camb.) Q, F'so,'. 233. What! fifty F 'what fifty', Rowe (+Camb.) •What, fifty'. 241. ye (F) Q (+Camb.) 'you'. 243. Brackets in F. 246. all— (Rowe +Camb.) Q, F 'all.'. 247. guardians...depositaries see G.—of the country, not of course, of his person. Muir cites 'depositary and guardian' from Florio's Montaigne (vi, 40). 248. reservation Cf. 1. 1. 132. 254. S.D. (Han.) Q, F om. 256. thou art twice her love. Love is still something to be gauged materially. 260-1. Our...superfluous.—T\A lowest of the low possess some wretched things they might do without. 264. gorgeous Trisyllabic. 266. need— (Camb. <Steev.) F 'need:'. 267. give me patience—patience I (J.D.W. < Mason, conj.) Q, F 'giue me that patience, patience I'. The intrusive 'that' distorts the metre and sadly weakens the force of the line. Hudson also followed Mason, and W.A.W. called the line 'redundant' and after noting various emendations proposed, added 'If any change be made Mason's seems best'. 'Lear is about to explain the difference between true need and the perverted needs of fashionable women, when he breaks off to pray for...Patience or Fortitude' (Muir)—and then suddenly realizes that this is his true need. 268. yougodsBracketedinQ,F. man(¥) Qcfellow' —unthinkable! 271-2. fool..Jear=do not let me be such a fool that I endure. 276. shall— (F). things— (Han.) Q, F 'things,'. 277. * r ^ / / ( J . D . W . < £ > ) F'are yet, I'. Camb. ( < Q 3) 'are, yet I'—an unnecessary comma.
2.4.
NOTES
195
280. S.D. (
196
NOTES
3.1.
S.D. Loc. (Rowe) 'Storm...lightning' (Rowe). Cf. 2. 4. 280, n. F 'Storme still.'. Entry (Cap.) Q 'Enter Kent and a Gentleman at seuerall doores.', F 'Enter Kent, and a Gentleman, seuerally.'. 6-7. Or swell...cease Cf. Troil. 1. 3.109-13, 'Take but degree away...the bounded waters Should lift their bosoms higher than the shores, And make a sop of all this solid globe'. See G. 'main'. 7. things=all created things, 'the whole order of nature' (K.). 7-15. tears...all. From Q. F om. (perhaps abridgement). J. remarks 'the whole speech is forcible but too long for the occasion, and properly retrenched\ Few will now agree. 8. eyeless rage—blind (indiscriminate) rage; or poss. implies they might spare Lear cd they see he is old. 9. make nothing of= treat with irreverence [Delius]; the opposite of'make much of [Schmidt]; or 'disperse to nothing as fast as he tears it off' (Heath). All
3.i.
NOTES
14. unbonneted To go hatless out of doors was considered 'almost indecent' (Sisson). Cf. 4. 6. 181, n. 15. what will=anyone or anything that will, take all Gen. explained as' the cry of the gambler who stakes all on a last, desperate throw' but by 'all' Lear means the whole world. Cf. 3. 2.1-9. 18. upon., .my note on the strength ofthat knowledge. 20-1. Although...cunning Bracketed in F. 20. is (F) Q (+Camb.) 'be'. 22-9. FromF. Qom. 22. have—as F'haue,as*. 23. Throned (
198
NOTES
3.1.
read in 1949, though agreeing that 'your* makes clearer sense. J.D.W. finds 'that fellow' obscure and harsh before 'That' (1.49) which he conj. the F comp.'s eye caught. 52. to effect see G. yet— (G.I.D.) £> 'yet:', F 'yet;'. 53-4. in...pain in which business your path lies. 55. S.D.. (G.I.D.) £>, F 'Exeunt.' Theob. 'Exeunt severally.' S.D. Loc. (Cap.) 'Storm still' (F) Entry (J.D.W. < F 'Enter Lear and Foole'). For 'bare-headed' see 3- 1. 141 ff. For this see 'The Poetry of the Storm in King Lear* by G. W. Williams in £.£>. 11 (1951), 57-71. And see Introd. p. xxxvi for the germ of the storm in Leir. r. blow! (Pope) Q, F 'blow'—read in 1949 ed., now withdrawn. G. W. Williams defends Pope in Stud. Bib. 11 (1949-50), 175-82. 2. cataracts and hurricanoes G. W. Williams (Stud. Sib. 11,177) claims that Sh. in this passage had in mind the distinction in Genesis vii. 11 between 'the floodgates of heaven' (Douay version
3.2.
NOTES
199
5. Vaunt-couriers of F 'Vaunt-curriors of, Q 'vaunt-currers to'. A.W. (p. 63) favours Q's 'to', but cf. the parallel 'Jove's lightning, the precursors O' th' dreadful thunder-claps' (Temp. 1. 2. 201-2). 'vauntcourier' occurs in Harsnett, p. 12; not elsewh. in Sh. 7. Strike (F) Q(+Camb.) 'Smite'. 8. germens (Cap.) cf. Macb. 4. i. 59. Q, F 'Germaines'. spill destroy. Cf. Ham. 4. 5. 20. 9. make (Q+most edd.) F 'makes'. 10. court holy water see G. 'flattering speeches' (Cotgrave 'Eau beniste de Cour'); e.g. 'thy daughters' blessing'. Cf. Tilley, H 532. 12. in; ask (F 'in, ask') Q (+Camb.) 'in, and aske'. daughters (F) = from your daughters. Camb.+ most edd. 'daughters". 13. wise men nor fools (*) Q(+Camb.) 'wise man nor foole'. 14. bellyful (Md.) Q, F'belly full'. 22. will...join (
2oo
NOTES
3.2.
love is like a great natural (=fool) that runs lolling up and down to hide his bauble in a hole' and (for the traditional fool) Douce, Illustrations (1839 ed.), p. 509, 'The form of it...in some instances was obscene in the highest degree', and Chambers Med. Stage, 1, 196-7 (footnote), .388. Thus paraphrased the lines mean 'Even a poor fool like me is not so foolish as to rush into marriage before he has a house to take a wife to: that way lies lousy beggary.' house Equivocal. so beggars...many—many beggars marry after this fashion. 31-4. The man...wake The first quatrain speaks of the foolish improvidence which even fools avoid: the second of that which Lear has committed. An adaptation of the proverb 'set not at thy heart what should be at thy heel' (see Tilley, H 317), it may be paraphrased ' T h e man who takes to his heart base creatures like Gon. and Reg. who scorn him, and spurns those who love him like Cord., will suffer such heartache (as if his heart had grown the corn that belongs to his toe) that he cannot sleep at night'. 3 5-6. For there.-..glass. And no marvel if Gon. and Reg. despise him, for all pretty women practise grimaces in their glass. He uses 'make mouths' in both literal and fig. senses; see G. 'make'. Perhaps the idea of a looking-glass came to Sh. here because (as Steev. noted), in 1.37, he had in mind Leir, 755-6: see next n. S.D. (F). 37-8. No...no thing Cf. Leir, 755, 'But he the mirror of mild patience, | Puts up all wrongs, and never gives reply'—noted by Greg, Lib. p. 388. 4 0 - 1 . here's...fool 'grace' is of course Lear and 'a codpiece' the Fool himself, who then with a motion of the hand reverses the roles by pointing to himself as the 'wise man' and to Lear as the fool. 41. S.D.(J.D.W.).
3.8.
NOTES
201
44. wanderers.,.dark=t.%. wild beasts. 50. pudder(F) Q (+Camb.) 'Powther'. As Muir notes, Lamb preferred 'pudder'. (See Misc. Prose, ed. E.V.Lucas, p. 125). 51. their enemies i.e. secret criminals. 53. Unwhippedof Unpunished by. Cf. Ham. 2 . 2 . 533 'use every man after his desert, and who shall scape whipping?' 54. simular tif(F) see G. Q (+Camb.) 'simular man of—prob. memorial anticipation: Q here reflects the verbal pattern of 3. 6. 36, 'Thou robed man of justice'; 'justice' (1. 53), is the prob. memorial link. 57. Hast(Q) F ' H a ' s ' . Close (adj.) = secret. 58-9. cry...grace, beg mercy from these dreadful officers of God's justice. See G. 'grace'. summoners=* ecclesiastical officers—to serve God's summons upon sinners. 59-60. I am...sinning i.e. Unlike these sinners I do not merit the wrath of the 'great gods'. Lear is not yet radically changed. 64-6. Brackets < F ; Q om. 67. My wits...turn. From this point he becomes aware of the sufferings of others; cf. 11. 72-3. 70-1. The...precious, i.e. Poverty is $ strange alchemist. See G. 'art', 'necessity'. 71. Jnd(F) Q(+Camb.)'that r . vile (Pope) F 'vilde'—the usual Sh. form. 71-2. precious...I An excellent example of Q's defective comma punctuation. F 'precious. Come, your Houel; | Poore Foole, and Knaue, I ' ; Q 'precious, Come you houell poore, | Foole and knaue, I ' . 72-3. Poor fool...for thee. First utterance of 'the blessed spirit of kindness' (Bradley, p. 287). 74-7. He that...day Clearly connected with Feste's song at the end of T10.N., thought by some to be nonSh. This, even if traditional, must be Sh.'s by adoption,
zoz
NOTES
z.2.
being the Fool's comment upon Lear's 'my wits begin to turn', and on jthe fact that he yet has 'a little tiny wit' left to pity him. 74. S.D. (Cap.) Q, F om. and a A ballad convention, and 'mere expletive' (Schmidt). Cf. Franz, p. 472. But Abbott (§ 96) explains 'and a little' as = 'a little and that a very little'. Cf. Oth. 2. 3. 88, 'King Stephen was and-a worthy peer', little tiny (Pope, subs.) Q 'little tine', F 'little-tyne'. Cf. F Tw.N. 'tine' at 5. 1.388. 76. content noun, fit verb (infin.) He 'must make his happiness fit his fortunes; must be contented and happy, even when his fortunes are bad'. (K.). 77. Though (F) Q(+Camb.) 'For'—which misses the point. N.B. The Tw.N. refrain begins 'For the rain' throughout. 78. boy (
3.a.
NOTES
203
When euery Case in Law, is right; No Squire in debt, nor no poore Knightj When Slanders do not Hue in Tongues j Nor Cut-purses come not to throngs j When Vsurers tell their Gold i'th'Field, And Baudes, and whores, do Churches build, Then shal the Realme of 4lbion, come to great confusion: Then comes the time, who liues to see't* That going shalbe vs'd with feet. This prophecie Merlin shall make, for I liue before his time.
upon which Warb.'s. comment (as cited in J.'s ed. 1765) ran: The judicious reader will observe...that this is not one but two prophecies. The first, a satyrical description of the present manners as future: And the second, a satyrical description of future manners, which the corruption of the present njoouldprevent from ever happening. Each of these prophecies has its proper inference or deduction: yet, by an unaccountable stupidity, the first editors took the whole to be all one prophecy, and so jumbled the two contrary inferences together. He then rearranged, as we do, but placed the two 'inferences' (11.85-6,93-4) in the reverse position. We prefer our order, since it gives a couple of stanzas meaning: 'When things shall be as in fact they are, Britain will be in a state of ruin, as in fact she is; when things shall be as they should be, then walking will customarily be done with feet, i.e. the proper order will prevail, and men will walk uprightly—but no one will ever live to see this.' Note that 11. 8 5-6 are set as a single line in F, which suggests a marginal insertion. Perhaps the F collator was bothered to have to copy out so long a passage from the playhouse MS. on to a separate slip or at right angles into the margin of Qi and, working N.S.K.L.-15
204
NOTES
3.2.
hurriedly, at first overlooked these lines. It may be noted that J. followed Warb. and praised the 'sagacity and acutehess' of his restoration; and Han. also accepted it. But Mai. calling it 'as unnecessary as it is unwarrantable', restored the F order, since when all edd. have followed suit. Yet J.D.W. hopes that the Warb. + G.I.D. rearrangement will be accepted as not only an addition to the Fool's philosophy, but {pace Chambers) genuine Shakespeare. Another reason for our departure from Warb.'s order is that our first stanza is clearly a rewriting or parody, as Steev. first observed, of a pseudo-Chaucerian 'Merlin's Prophecy' quoted by Puttenham (see Arte of English Poesie, 1589, ed. 1936 by G. D. Willcock and A. Walker, p. 224), though Sh. prob. found it in Thynne's Chaucer (1532), where it runs: Whan faithe fayleth in preestes sawes And lordes hestes are holden for lawes And robbery is holden purchase And lechery is holden solace Than shal the londe of albyon Be brought to great confusyon. 81. more...matter Cf. Ham. 2. 2. 95, 'More matter with less art', burned A quibble; see G. 83. their...tutors 'greater experts in clothing than the tailors they employ' (K.) or 'invent fashions for them' (Warb.). A glance at the fantastic developments in male dress. 87. right='genuine' or 'just'. See Sh. Eng. 1, 389 for the extraordinary condition of legal procedure in Sh.'s day. 90. cutpurses...throngs Cf. Autolycus in Wint. 4. 4. 679 'every shop, church, session, hanging, yields a careful man work'.
91. i'th'field sc. openly.
3.3.
NOTES
205
92. lavicls...build e.g. as an act of repentance. 94. going...feet men shall walk uprightly. 95. Merlin Cf. I H. IF, 3. 1. 150, 'the dreamer Merlin and his prophecies'. He belongs to the Arthurian period; the Lear story takes place long before that. S.D. F 'Exit.'.-
3-3 S.D. Loc. (Cap.
206
NOTES
3.3.
22. This...deserving I look like deserving a handsome reward for this information. 23. all sc. his possessions. 24. The younger., .fall Cf. Tilley, R 136. S.D. Q, F 'Exit.'. 3-4 S.D. Zw. 'The...hovel.' (Camb. ) F 'they'. 11. i'th'mouth face to face, free at ease. 12. delicate sensitive, this (Q corr.) F
3-4-
NOTES
207
27. pray A prayer of repentance; cf. 3. 2. 72-3, n. S.D. (<J.) F 'Exit.' at 1. 26. 28-36. Poor naked wretches ttc. See Bradley, p. 287, on this. We are pointed forward to 11.101 ff. Cf. Glo.'s words at 4. 1. 63—9. Both, learn the same lesson from suffering. 31. looped see G. 33. pomp The 'great and mighty ones of the earth' (K.), including—especially— himself. 35. shake...them Cf. Harsnett, Declaration, etc. [see sig. A 3]. 'These lighter superfluities, whom they disgorge amongst you...in the fashion of great Potentates' [Muir, R.E.S. (1951), p. 16]. 37-8. Fathom...Tom/ From F. Q om. S.D.S (
208
NOTES
3.4.
blow the cold winds (J.D.W.) F 'blow the windes' Q (+Camb.) 'blowes the cold wind'. The F. comp. prob. omitted 'cold' (cf. 1. 98 below) or perh. the collator deleted 'cold in Q here and before' bed' (1.47). The reporter would preserve the ballad metre. 47. Humh ( < F ) He shivers (K.). Go to thy bed (Y) Q ( + Camb.) 'Goe to thy cold bed'. Cf. Shrew Ind. 1, 8-9, 'go by, S. Jeronimy, go to thy cold bed and warm thee'—which Mai. claimed proved Q the correct text; but Sh. had no metrical inducement to quote himself. Enough to recall the lines of mad Hieronimo in The Spanish Tragedy (apt for a pretended madman); viz. 2. 5. 1, 'What outcries pluck me from my naked bed?' and 3.12. 31 'Hieronimo beware; go by, go by*. On the other hand the Q actor-reporter might well have recollected Shrew. 48. Didst thou give (
3.4.
NOTES
209
window* (K.)—cf. O.Fr. *puye'=balcony. But O.E.D. gives no support. The ord. meaning 'seat in church' wd make the temptation more sinister. 55-6. ride four-inched bridges Cf. the half-witted tailor in The Magnetic Lady, v, i, 8 (Jonson, vi, 589), who speaks of running 'over two-inch bridges'. Perh. proverbial; in any case
2io
NOTES
3.4.
Booth's Lear drew 'a thorn or wooden spike from Edgar's arm and thrust it into his own' (Sprague, p. 291). 74. pelican daughters Cf. Ham. 4. 5.146-7; Leir, 512-13, ' I am as kind as the Pellican | That kils it selfe, to saue her young ones liues', and Batman upon Bartholome (ed. 1582, XII, 295 fol. 186 b): The Pellican Ioueth too much her children. For when the children bee haught and begin to waxe hoare they smite the father and mother in the face [W.A.W.]. The legend of the pelican feeding its young on blood drawn from its breast is familiar as symbolizing Christ's sacrifice in eccles. art. 75. Pillicock see G. Edg. distorts 'pelican' and delivers 'part of a nursery rhyme' (K.), with indecent quibble alluding to 'this flesh begot', etc. [Muir]. 75-6. Hill...loo! ( < F 'hill, alow: alow, loo, loo.') Q 'hill, a lo lo lo.\ 76. Alow!...loo! Theob. (ed. 11) 'Halloo, halloo, loo,loo!' Various explanations. 'Perh. a wild "halloo" as if he were calling a hawk*, cf. Ham. 1. 5. 116 (K.); 'a cry to excite dogs' (Craig), cf. Trot/. 5. 7.10. 79. th'foul fiend Suggested by the similarity between 'fool' and 'foul'; see Kokeritz, p. 75, citing a like wordplay at 5 H. VI, 5. 6. 18-20. 79-82. Obey...array A number of biblical injunctions by keeping which the 'foul fiend' may be held at bay. Obey thy parents Eph. vi. 1 and Exod.xx. 12 (5th Commandment); keep thy word justly Deut. xxiii, 23 and Catechism, fBe true and just in all thy dealings'. swear not Matt. v. 34; cf. Exod. xx. 7 (3rd Commandment); commit...spouse Exod. xx. 14 (7th Commandment), see G. 'commit'; set...array Cf. I Tim. ii. 9 [Noble, p. 230]. 80. word justly (Pope+Camb.) Q 'words iustly'
3-4.
NOTES
2it
F 'words Iustice'. G.I.D. withdraws the defence of F in the 1949 ed. F 'Iustice' prob. = 'iustle' misread. commit not Cf. Oth. 4. 2. 72-4. man's i.e. another man's. 80-1. set.. .array—don't set your dear little heart on fine clothes, sweetheart (
aia
NOTES
3.4.
nonny'. Q 'hay no on n y \ Steev. (+Camb.) 'says suum mun ha no nonny'. The traditional refrain 'hey nonny nonny' seems required by the context (see G. 'nonny nonny'); cf. Ham. 4. 5. 165; Ado, 2. 3. 7 1 ; A.T.L. 5.3.16, 22, etc. And the omission in F may well be due to careless correction of Q by a puzzled collator. suum, mun seems to represent the sound of the wind, though perh. 'suum' should be 'summ'. 100. Dolphin Unexplained. Poss. the name of a devil. Muir owes to J. Crow: ' I pray to Dolphin, | prince of dead [ Scald you all in | his lead' from the Newcastle Play of Noah (The Non-Cycle Mystery P/ays, ed. Waterhouse, 1909,p. 25). sessa! (Mai.) F 'Sesey', Q 'caese'. Also unexplained, but prob. a variant of 'sa sa' (see 4. 6. 201, n.). Cf. Shrew Ind. 1, 5, and post 3. 6. 73. F reads 'Dolphin my Boy, Boy Sesey\ 101. Thou(¥) Q ' W h y t h o u ' . a (F) Q 'thy'. 103-8. Is man.../endings/ Taylor (pp. 9-10) cites (with his italics) the following parallels from Florio [Tudor Trans.]: (i) Miserable man; whom if you consider well what is he? (11, 172). (ii) Truely, when I consider man all naked... I finde we have had much more reason to hide and cover our nakednesse than any creature else. We may be excused for borrowing those which nature had therein favored more than us...and under their spoiles of 1000H, of haire, of feathers, and of silks to shroud us (n, 184). (iii) And that our wisdome should learne of beasts the most profitable documents, belonging to our chiefest and most necessary parts of life....Where with., .men have done, as perfumers doe with oyle, they have adulterated her with so many augmentations and sophisticated'her' (in, 310). 105. the cat see G. 'civet'. Ha! ( F ' H a ? ' ) . on's=
of us. 106. sophisticated: thou...itself, (punc. J.D.W.) F
3.4.
NOTES
213
'sophisticated. Thou...itselfe'. sophisticated Not found elsewh. in Sh. See 11. 103-8, n. 108. lendings i.e. what he has borrowed from the worm, beast, etc. Cf.FlorioV borrowing' (11.103-8,n.). 109. unbutton A command to an imaginery groom of his bedchamber. S.D. (
214
NOTES
3.4.
Greg, Variants, pp. 165-7) = causes to squint. Cf. 4.6. 135.
3-4.
NOTES Untill such time as he hir found, He hir beat and he hir bound, Untill hir troth she to him plight She would not come to hir that night.
The 'hir' in 1. 3 we take to be the woman suffering from indigestion and 'our ladies' in 1. 1 to be 'our Lady's'. See Montague Summers' ed. of Scot (1930), p. 49. flight- (J.D.W.) Q, F 'plight,' 124. And aroint...thee! Addressed to the witch at whose orders the Incubus had visited its victim. 125. How...grace? (Q, F) Sisson gives to Glo. But the words are in keeping with Kent's tender solicitude throughout (e.g. 3. 6. 33—4, 'How do you, Sir?...Will you lie down', etc.). Glo. is still coming up and first addresses them in 1. 128. Cf. 1. 115, n. 130. tadpole (J.) F 'Tod-pole'. Cf. Tit. (Q) 4.2.85 'tadpole', the wall-newt...water The term 'wallnewt' ( = ?lizard) is app. not known elsewh. and may be Sh.'s coinage to distinguish it from the water-newt (=newt or triton). Poss. he wrote 'water-newt', which Rowe read, and Q, F omitted 'newt'. 131. the fury.. .rages Refers to the Abram-man's fits of pretended madness, put on to terrify people. Cf. 2 . 3 . 14, n. 134-5. whipped...imprisoned Ace. to the Statute of 1572 'For the punishment of Vacabondes' [see Chambers, Eliz. Stage, iv, 269]. See also extract from Harrison, Description of England (1587), in JJD.W.'s Life in Sh.'s England (Penguin), pp. 296-300. stock-punished (
216
NOTES
3.4.
140. Beware... Cf. 1. 45, n. Smulkin Prob. suggested by 'mice' (1. 138) since 'Smolkin' is one of Harsnett's devils, reported as seen creeping out ofa man's ear in the form of a mouse. Cf. Muir, pp. 254, 256. 143. The...Darkness sc. who is my attendant! Edg. pretends that Glo.'s question is addressed to him. For 'the Prince of Darkness', see Harsnett, pp. 147, 168. 144. Modo..Mahu More devils in Harsnett (p. 46). Question and answer reflect a passage on p. 47 about another devil who, though described as a 'Prince & Monarch of the world', had 'no follower but two men and an urchin boy'; upon which Harsnett comments: ' I t was little becoming his state (I wis) being so mighty a Monarch to come into our coasts so skurvily attended, except he come to see fashions in England' [Muir, 2?.£.S. (1951), p. 15]. Blunden (ap. Bradby, p. 331) observes that 'Modo% together with 'Theban' (1. 157) and Edg.'s boast of riding 'over four-inch bridges' (11. 55-6), an English version of the Lat. prov. 'Ire per extentum funem', somehow reflect four lines in Horace (Ep. 11, i, 210-13): Ille per extentum funem mihi posse videtur Ire poeta; meum qui pectus inaniter angit, Inritat, mulcet, falsis terroribus implet, Ut magus 5 et modo me Thebis, modo ponit Athenis.
This in J.D.W.'s rough trans, runs: The poet for me is one capable of the greatest of poetic feats, that is to say one who by the illusion of art can agonize, enrage and comfort my spirit in turn, who like a magician can fill me with terror or transport me now to Thebes, now to Athens. It is not odd that a devil called Modo should recall this passage to Sh.'s mind, since it is Horace's description of the tragic poet, a finer one than anything in Aristotle.
3.4.
NOTES
217
It is in fact the passage above all others in Horace we might expect Sh. to know, probably by heart, certainly to have in mind as he walked his own tragic tight-rope of King Lear. 145. Ourfiesh and blood i.e. our children. No wonder Edg. shudders at this. 154. philosopher=ma.T\ of science. Suggested by Edg.'s 'unaccommodated' condition. Cf. the life 'philosophers commend' in Lyly's Campaspe (1. 2. 3): 'a crumme for thy supper, an hande for thy cup and thy clothes for thy sheetes.—For Natura paucis contenta? And Edg.'s hovel and blanket might have recalled Diogenes' entry from his tub in the same play, in which too (1. 3) Plato, Aristotle and Cleanthes discuss the 'natural causes' of phenomena like 'the ebbing and flowing of the Sea'. Aristotle is of course represented as Alexander's court philosopher; and as Gordon notes (Sh. Comedy, 1944, pp. 126-8): all kings formerly kept such a philosopher, who was technically so called, just as they kept a Fool and other court officers. Lear, we are to suppose, had a philosopher when he was king, and is now adding him to his mock court....In the Middle Ages one of the most popular forms of instructive reading was the dialogue or catechism, in which one of these celebrated philosophers instructed his royal pupil. The pupil asks questions about every sort of thing—including, of course, 'the cause of thunder'—that was a stock question.
Gordon refers also to 1. 5. 19 ff. (see n.), where the Fool questions Lear—'reversing things' (inversion being an important motif in this play) and putting 'the "reasons of nature" to his master'. Cf. Muir'sn. ad loc. 155. What...thunder? Cf. 1. 154, n. adfin. But an apt question with the storm raging. 157. Theban Cf. 'Athenian' (1. 180). Prob.
ai8
NOTES
3.4.
reflecting Horace, cited 1. 144, n., and here meaning members of ancient Greek universities, perh. hinting at Cambridge and Oxford. Cf. Dryden, Prologue to the Univ. of Oxford(Kinsley, 1, 375): Thebes did His Green, unknowing Youth ingagej He chuses Athens in His Riper Age— Thebans being considered less cultivated than Athenians. Note that Lear comes to think more highly of his philosopher as time goes on. 158. study = special branch of 'philosophy'. See also G. 159-60. How...in private. ' W e can guess what the question wd have been.—How did he kill his daughters ?' Blunden, op. cit. p. 332. 162. His...unsettle. 'Very significant as to the history of Lear's madness. Cf. 3.2.67...and enough to disprove the theory...that Lear is a sufferer from "senile dementia", at the very beginning of the play' (K.). S.D. (F). 171. Grace—(Cap.) Q, F 'grace.' cry.,.sir i.e. by your leave, sir. Glo. takes his arm, trying to separate him from his 'philosopher'; Lear refuses. 175. all Emphatic. This way i.e. away from the hovel and towards the house (cf. 1. 153). him! Emphatic. If Edg. stays in the hovel, so will Lear. 177. soothe humour. 181. hush! A sign (to the audience) that they will be sheltering in a house near the castle. 182-4. Childe...man. Edg., warned by GIo.'s 'hush!', is himself the Childe venturing into a dark house where the unknown awaits him. He is also Jack invisible, of noble British blood, though outlawed from it (1. 167). 182. Childe...came. Prob. from a lost ballad, alluded to again (J.C.M. notes) in Beaumont and
3-4-
NOTES
aigr
Fletcher's Woman1s Prize, 2. i . (ed. Waller, VIII, 24). Browning expands the line into one of his best known poems. Childe Roland F 'Childe Rowland'—the most famous figure in the retinue of Charlemagne, and hero of the 12th cent. Chanson de Roland. See G. 'Childe'. 183-4. His...man.7 These lines are Edg.'s addition. His word=his watchword or password as he enters. See G. Prob. intended as a reply to Glo.'s 'no words', etc. l Fie...man.' Inverted commas (edd.). The words, spoken by the Giant in the tale of Jack the Giant-Killer, are 'given by an intentional incongruity to the heroic Child Roland' (Muir). The meaning, we think, is rather that British Roland is entering the Giant's Castle, where his blood (kinship) is in danger of being smelt (detected). 184. a British man Shd be 'an Englishman' ace. to the trad, tale (cf. Have with you to Saffron-Walden in Nashe, ed. McKerrow, HI, 37). Sh. makes the change, there being no English in Lear's Britain. See 4. 6. 248, n. S.D. F 'Exeunt', Q om. 3-5 S.D. Loc. (Cap.) Entry (F). 1-2. his house Cf. 3. 7. 30-1, 39. 3. sp.-hdg. Q, F'Bast.'. So throughout sc. How... censured i.e. What people may think of me. 4. nature i.e. natural affection, loyalty to the crown, viz. you. something fears me=frightens me somewhat. 6-9. / now perceive...in himself. Puzzles many; 'merit' being variously interpreted 'excellence' (Edg.'s) or 'deserts' (Glo.'s), and 'in himself as 'in Edg.' or 'in Glo.\ Corn.'s main concern is not tofindexcuses for Edg., but to emphasize Glo.'s iniquity, which, he implies, is so black as to justify even patricide. Thus 'reprovable badness' (=blameworthy depravity) is too
220
NOTES
3.5.
mild a term for such iniquity and must refer to patricide, or rather to the wicked ambitions or designs which prompted ('set awork') the idea of patricide. We paraphrase: I can see now that Edg. was provoked to seek Glo.'s death not merely by his own evil character but by a good impulse prompted by viciousness, in itself (>'in himself) blameworthy. I O - I I . must...just=must feel remorse at doing right. letter he (Q+Camb.) F 'Letter which hee', prob. antic, 'which' three words ahead. 13. not— (G.I.D.) F'not;' Most edd. 'not,'. 19-20. that he may...apprehension i.e. that we may be able to lay hands on him when we want to. 21. Theob's aside, comforting see G. 22. stuff...fully =make him more likely to be suspected (of being a French agent). S.D. (G.I.D.) Q, F om. 26. dearer (Q+) F 'deere'. S.D. F 'Exeunt.', Q 'Exit.'. 3.6 S.D. Loc. (Mai., subs.) Cap. 'A room in some of the out-buildings of the Castle'. Entry
3.6.
NOTES
221
took from Chaucer, Monk's Tale, 11. 485-6. Cf. 4. 2. 18, n. 7. innocent see G. Addressed to Fool. 12-14. No...before him. From F. Q om. 12. /o=as. 13-14. /or he's., .before him. In that age of a rigid hierarchy of rank, it wd be exceedingly awkward, even disagreeable, for a son to become a gentleman first. Through the grant in 1596 of a coat of arms to John Shakespeare, yeoman, both he and his son William became gentlemen together. The Fool is as usual glancing at Lear who should be superior in rank and power to his daughters, but has become inferior to them as a result of his own mad folly. 15-16. To have...'em Prompted by Edg.'s ref. to 'the lake of darkness', Lear sees Gon. and Reg. given over to the torments of Hell. Muir cites from Harsnett, pp. 93-4, a similar account of the Furies in Hell. [£.£.£. (1951), p. 19.] 17-55. The foul Jiend...let her scape? From Q. F om. 17. bites tny back. Cf. 3. 4. 159 'to kill vermin' [K.]. 19. a horse's health 'A horse is above all other animals subject to diseases' (J.). Cf. Shr. 1. 2. 79-80; 3. 2. 49-55. Muir suggests: what a horse-dealer says about it when trying to sell you the animal. Warb. read 'a horse's heels' and Ritson cited Ray's 'Trust not a horse's heel nor a dog's tooth'. Cf. Tilley, H 7. 21. S.D. (Cap.) Q, F om. justicer (Theob.) Q 'Iustice'. Emendation metrically desirable. Cf. 1. 55; 4. 2. 79, and Greg, Variants, p. 175. 22. S.D. (Cap.) Q,Fom. Nozo(
*wanst\ trial (
Want'St...trials
'Do you wish for spectators at your trial ? If so, there's a
222
NOTES
3.6.
fiend to glare at you' (K., after Cowden Clarke). S.D. (Staunton) Q om. 2 5. Come o'er the burn.. .me From a song also qu oted, K. notes, in Wager's The Longer thou Livest, the More Fool Thou Art (c. 1559). burn (J.C.M. om. Her boat...thee The Fool invents indelicately: cf. Temp. 1. 1. 47. 29. The'foul'fiend'etc. 'Edg. pretends that the Fool's singing is that of a fiend disguised as a nightingale' (Muir). Harsnett, p. 225, mentions 'a nightingale'. 30. Hoppedance (Q) Harsnett's form is 'Hoberdidance', or 'Haberdidance'. Q perh. corrupts Sh.'s spelling, cries...croak nat ReflectsHarsnett, pp. 194-5, 'If they heard any croaking in her belly (a thing whereunto many women are subject, especially when they are fasting).. ;they said it was the deuill...that spake with the voyce of a Toade.' [Muir, R.E.S. (1951), p. 19.] 31. Croak see G. 35. their evidence=th.e witnesses against them. 36. S.D. (Cap.) Qom. rabid (Pope) Q 'robbed*. 36-7. rob/d man of justice...equity Except here'Sh. gives no hint that he knew of the existence of Courts of Equity as distinguished from Courts of Law' (Sh. Eng. 1, 395). The Lord Chancellor presided at the one, the Lord Chief Justice at the other. As this was a trial of supreme importance in the mad King's eyes, he seems to suppose the blanketed Bedlam as L.C.J. and his yokefellow the Fool as L.C. 37. S.D. (Cap.) Qom. 38. Bench=take your seat as in the Court of King's Bench. S.D. (Cap.) Q om. o'th'commission i.e. appointed under the Great Seal. 41-4. Steepest or zoakest etc. J. explains: This seems to be a stanza of some pastoral song. A shepherd is desired to pipe, and the request is enforced by
3.6.
NOTES
223
a promise that though his sheep be in the corn, i.e. committing trespass by his negligence, yet a single tune upon his pipe shall secure them from the pound. 43. minikin see G. Doubtful whether this refers to the pipe or to the shepherd's (? shepherdess's) voice. 45. Purr the (Qsubs.) Most edd. read'Purr! the'. But 'Purre' is the name of a 'fat devil' in Harsnett (p. 50). Sh. may be identifying it with' Graymalkin' in Macb. 1. 1. 8. 47. she (Q 2) Q 1 om. 51. / . . .joined-stool A contemptuous form ofapology for not observing another person's presence (cf. Tilley, M 897). But, as usual, the Fool is aware of the true facts when Lear is not. It is a stool, joined-stool Q 'ioyne stoole' Q 2 (+Camb.) 'ioynt stoole'. 53. stone (J.D.W.
224
NOTES
3.6.
beasts. ' T o throw one's eyes', is common in Sh. Cf. 3S9 g Mastiff etc. Cf. the list of dogs in Macb. 3 . 1 . 92 ff. This touch wd appeal to King James. 67-8. mongrel grim, \ Hound (Rowe, subs.) F 'Mongrill, Grim, | Hound' Q 'mungril, grim-houd'. The Q/F comma is a common error. The Q reporter seems to have taken 'greyhound' and 'grim-hoQd' as a pair. 68. lym (Han.) Q 'him', F 'Hym'—another common error. The form 'lym' was app. so rare that the F corrector prob. took the T for a slip. Every word in 11. 67-8 except 'or' is given a capital by F comp. 69. Or(F) Qom. /y/k ( < Q ' t i k e ' ) F'tight'. Cf. the treatment of 'lym' (1. 68). trundle-tail (<£) 2) Q 1 'trudletaile', F 'Troudle taile'. 70. him (F) Q (+Camb.) 'them'. 72. leaped F 'leapt', Q (+Camb.) 'leape\ 73. Do,...de. See 3. 4. 57, n. Sessa! (Mai.) F 'sese:'. Cf. G. and 4. 6. 201, n. 73—4. Come...towns A beggar will do best in places of public resort. Cf. Wint. 4. 3. 99, 'he haunts wakes,, fairs, and bear-baitings'. 74. thy...dry = (a) he has had as little to drink as to eat. Cf. 11. 30-1 and next note. (J>) ' I cannot daub it further' (4. 1. 51). horn K. notes that Aubrey, Natural Hist. Wiltshire [ante 1691] (11, 4 ed. Britten, p. 93), records Tom 0' Bedlams 'wore about their necks a great horn of an ox on a string' which 'they did wind' for alms and into which they 'putt the drink' given to them. 75-8. Then...hundred A response to Edg.'s 'dry'; 'her' (1. 76) being emphatic. Is Reg.'s heart as dry and bloodless as Gon.'s? is what the anatomists must discover. But that and the 'cause in nature' for such 'hard hearts' are 'philosophical' problems. Best, then,
3.6.
NOTES
225
'entertain* this interesting 'philosopher' as a member of die royal household. 77. make (F) subjunctive (Schmidt); see Abbott, p. 367. Q (+Camb.) 'makes'. S.D. (Cap.) Q om, 78. hundred sc. knights. Promotion indeed! 78-80. I do not like...Persian see'This witty stroke is fully appreciated if we see that it plays on the last ode of Horace, Book First: "Persicos odi, puer, apparatus"— I dislike Persian pomp' (Blunden, op. cit. p. 322). It was a short ode, prob. well-known to schoolboys then as now. Cf. 3. 4. 144, n. Sh. gives us the inversion theme again, leading up to 11. 82-4. 82-4. Make no noise...at noon see Introd. p. xxxii. 8 2-3. curtains i.e. of an imaginary bed. So, so; ( < F) The word is given three times in Q (+Camb), which adds it three times again at the end of the speech. 84. And...noon—hxA I'll play the fool. Proverbial; cf. Tilley, B 197, 'You would make me go to bed at noon'. The Fool's last words in the play; and all sorts of meanings have been discovered in them; Blunden, op. cit. p. 336, finds seven. But critics have been mostly unaware of the proverbial relevance, which as a reply to Lear gives all the point required. S.D. (F)—at 1. 80. 87 ff. F concludes the sc. with Glo.'s speech,' Good friend...quick conduct. Come, come, away', and om. both Kent's 'Oppressed...behind' and Edg.'s 'When we...lurk, lurk' which Q supplies. 88. a...death Cf. 3.4.163. upon—against. 95. provision sc. of things needful for your journey. 97. broken sinews shattered nerves. 99. Stand...cure=will be difficult to heal. Cf. Oth. 2. 1. 50 'my hopes...stand in bold cure'. S.D. (Theob.) 100. S.D. (Cap. subs.) F 'Exeunt*. 103. Who alone...mind Cf. Tilley, C 5 7 1 ; Lucr. I.790, 'Fellowship in woe doth woe assuage'; Marlowe's
Z26
NOTES
3.6.
Faustus, 2. I. 40, 'Solamen miseris socios habuisse doloris' (Greg, Dr Faustus: A Reconstruction, 1950). alone Emphatic, suffers, suffers most (Theob.) Q 'suffers suffers, most'. n o . high noises rumours from court—wh. will give him the cue when to 'bewray' (see G.) himself. 112. In...proof"=when thou hast been proved just. reconciles thee sc. to thy father. 114. S.D. (
3.7.
NOTES
227
F'Exit'(both a t ! 21). 23. S.D. (Cap. subs:) £>,Fom. 24. pass upon see G. 26. court'sy see G. 27. S.D. (+Ridley'dern') F(+Camb.)'sterne\ Greg {Variants, p. 156) like Ridley takes Q readings here-, as 'unquestionably Sh.'s'; but, being 'unusual or obsolescent', the words have been altered in F 'by either prompter or editor' for the sake of readier under-
428
NOTES
3.7.
standing, though 'stern' is inappropriate to the context. Sisson accepts F considering Q's 'flesh rash borish fangs', 'disastrous to speak:' Are not sibilants apt to the situation described? See G. 'rash', 'dearn'. 58. as his loved (G.I.D.; withdrawing 1949 reading) F (+Camb.) 'as his bare' Q uncorr. 'of his lou'd', corr. 'on his lowd'. Most edd. accept F but 'loved' adds a touch of emotion, which is surely Sh.'s, in this speech of high passion, while the colourless 'bare' looks like a careless substitution by the prompter (cf. 'bare-headed' 3. 2. 60) if it be not a simple and not improbable misreading of 'loud'; cf. the Q 'layd' for F 'buoy'd' (prob. copy-sp. 'boyd') in 1. 59. The F 'as' on the other hand must be correct and might in its turn have been misread 'of by the Q compositor. As the F collator was working here on an uncorr. sheet of Q, we do not need to bother with 'on his lowd' (>Rid. 'low'd'). See Greg, Variants, pp. 168-9. 59. buoyed {<¥) Q uncorr.'layd', corr.'bod*. 60. quenched...fires Cf. Temp. 1. 2. 4-5, 'the sea, mounting to th'welkin's cheek, Dashes the fire out'. stelle'd fires=the fire of the stars, 'stelle'd' lit.=» studded with stars (like a ceiling—e.g. prob. the Globe 'heavens'). Cf. Ham. 2. 2. 304, 'this brave o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire'. See G. 'stelle'd'. 61. holp...rain sc. by his tears. CH.Macb. 1.7.25,11. (N.S.) and Introd. to Titus, p. lii. 63. 'Good...key1 J.'s quot. marks. Most edd. follow, but Furn. reads 'Good...subscribe'—see next note. 64. Jllcruels else subscribe :(F) Q(+Camb.)'All... subscrib'd*. Much debated. Taking 'cruels' as 'cruel creatures' (see G. and Schmidt) and 'subscribe' as 'yield to pity' (as in Troil. 4. 5. 105-6), G.I.D. interprets U. 64-5: 'AH other cruel creatures yield to
3 .7.
NOTES
229
feelings of compassion under strong provocation: you alone do not: but you and your sister will be divinelypunished for your unparalleled cruelly to your father' (1949 ed. p. 154; Muir agrees). 69. help... F 'helpe.—'. A long dash in F marks the moment of the deed. 70. One...another=One side will make the other look ridiculous. 71. If...vengeance— Cf. 11. 64-5. vengeance—(Q) F'vengeance.'. I Servant. (Cap., subs.) Q'Seruant.', F 'Seru.'. We follow Cap. also at 11. 75, 78, 80,98, etc. 76. Regan. What...mean? (K. 2) Q, F o m . 85. nature filial affection. 88. overture see G. Accented 'overture*. 93. S.D. (G.I.D.) F 'Exit with Glouster.'. Etna look you?=mod. 'How do you seem ?'. 95. Turn...villain. Preoccupied with his Wound, he does not notice that Glo. has gone. 97. S.D.
Z3©
NOTES
3.7.
99. If...good i.e. if Corn, escapes divine punishment. 99,105. sp.-hdgs. (
4.1 S.D. loc. (Cap.) Entry (Q, F). 1-9. Yet...blasts This cheerful declaration that he has faced the worst is deeply ironical in view of what immediately follows. I . thus i.e. like a beggar, known sc. to myself.
4.i.
NOTES
231
2. still...flattered sc. as at court, flattered. To be worst, (Pope) Q 'flattered to be worst,', F 'flatter'd, to be worst:'. The Q and F punct. amount to the same thing; defended by Muir, who reads 'flatter'd to be worst.'. But 'the worst' here must tally with 'the worst' (1. 6) and contrast with 'the best' (1. 5). Cf. Sisson. 2-4. To be worst...lives not in fear=cL Bunyan's 'He that is down needs fear no fall'. 4. still=always. 6. returns...laughter, i.e. is bound to change for the better. 6-9. Welcome...blasts. From F. Q om. 9. Owes...blasts, sc. therefore need fear nothing further from you, since he has paid to the uttermost. S.D. (Q—at 1.12) F 'Enter Gloster and an Oldman.'. 10. poorly eyed! (G.I.D.)=with something wrong with his sight! Cf. Spenser, F.Q. iv. iii. 7, 'watchfull and well eyde'. The modern coll. 'poorly' = 'in a poor state of health' is post-Sh. (see O.E.D. 'poorly'). The texts are: F 'poorely led?'; Q uncorr. 'poorlie, leed,'; Q corr. 'parti,eyd,\ As F here derives from Q uncorr. wh. Greg notes is not only 'exceedingly feeble' but can hardly have been even 'approximately the reading of the Quarto copy', since 'if it was, there is no apparent reason why the corrector should have altered it', we must look to Q corr. for a solution, though of course it will be what the reporter wrote and only poss. Sh.'s. The 'eyd' seems convincing and the mis-correction.of 'poorlie' to 'parti' may be explained if the Q copy read 'porli'. Cf. Greg, Variants, pp. 169-70. J.D.W. first conj. 'pearly' (<sp. 'parli')=with cataracts, cf. Gent. 5. 2. 13. But he now feels it too definite for the context, though the white plasters provided at 3. 7. 105-6 (see n.) might suggest cataracts. N.B. The eyes were not bandaged, as on the mod. stage; see 4. 6. 136, 143; 5. 3. 188. 11-12. But...age. 'We are only reconciled to
232
NOTES
4.1.
growing old...by the chances and changes of this mortal fife which make us hate it' (Muir). 17. You (F) £> (+Camb.) 'Alack sir, you'—prob. memory of 1. 45. 19. / stumbled when I saw 'One of the central paradoxes of the play' (Muir). Cf. 5. 3. 171-2. 20-1. Our.. .commodities. ' Prosperity makes us careless, and adversity ("our mere defects") proves to bean advantage' (K.). See G. 'secure', 'means' 'mere'. 21. O F 'Oh', Q (+Camb.) 'ah'. 22. The food...wrath Cf.Z.Z.Z.4.1.92 'food for his rage' [K.]. 23. see...in my touch i.e.'hold thee in my embrace* (K.). 25»27»37>5i» 53-. J-'s asides. 31. reason i.e. sanity. 33. a man a worm. Perh. Sh. echoes Job xxv. 6. 35. I...since. Cf. 3. 7. 87-9. 36-7. As flies...sport. See Introd. § X and 5. 3. 169-72, n. 37. kill (F) Q 'bitt'—literal misreading. How..* &/='How can this have come about?'—a cry of anguished astonishment. He had heard his father 'i'the lastnight'sstorm'speakofhim(3.4.145-6, i66-7o)in very different terms, had seen him with eyes that could see—and now! What was the meaning of it all? 38-9. Bad...others. An apology [by Sh. to his audience] for the strange part Edg. is now to play in company with his,sorrowing and suffering father. Cf. *And yet I must' (1. 53), though it is never explained why he must, and 'O fault!' etc. (5. 3. 191). Edg. plays fool to Glo. as the Fool himself does to Lear. 39. Ang'ring (F, Q) K.'s gloss 'distressing' is not a sense recorded in O.E.D. after 1400. Poss. a common error; Han.'sconj. 'Anguishing' being attractive. Note the anguish in 11. 51-3.
4.i.
NOTES
233
41. Then prithee (
234
NOTES
4.x.
(p. 119) Hoberdicut is 'the Prince of hel' and the present passage echoes 3. 4. 143-4 where Modo and Mahu are mentioned in conjunction with 'the Prince of Darkness'. A fiend 'of dumbness' is intelligible; but what is a 'Prince of Dumbness'? Cap. read 'darkness' but corrected it in Errata. 60. Flibbertigibbet (Pope)—as in F at 3. 4. 115. Q 'Stiberdigebit'. Harsnett's form is 'Fliberdigibbet'. We adopt the usual modern spelling. 60-1. of mocking andmowing, who (G.I.D.) Q 'of Mobing, & Mohing who'. Theob. ( + Camb.) 'of mopping and mowing; who' 'Mohing' being an aural error. But 'mop and mow' and 'mock and mow' mean the same and are both found in Temp. (4. 1. 47; 3. 3. 82 S.D.), while 'mock' has the better claim here on graphic grounds. Cf. 2. 2. 130 (Q uncorr.) 'Stobing' for 'Stoking'. F 'moking' would imply 'mocking', and a misreading o f ' p ' and' b ' seems unlikely. True, as Mai. noted, 'mow and mop' occurs in Harsnett; but Sh. may have chosen the alternative phrase. 61. since i.e. since he left Tom. chambermaids Perh. suggested by the three mentioned in Harsnett, supposed to be possessed by devils. But also a general ref. to serving-women who make derisive grimaces at their mistresses behind their backs. 64. Have...strokes=lhave brought so low as to accept humbly the bitterest strokes of Fortune' (Muir). 64—5. that.. .happier sc. because in my wretchedness I enrich you with the purse. But prob. there is another meaning, as at 3. 6. 103; see n. 65. Heavens, deal No comma in Q, F ; but 'your' in II. 67-8 suggests a vocative here, still! (Camb.) F 'still:'. 66-70. Let.. .enough Cf. Lear's prayer at 3.4.2 8-36. 66. lust-dieted Gen. explained 'whose desires are fed to the full'; cf. Oth. 2. 1. 288, 'to diet my revenge'. But as 'diet' more often = 'feed ace. to medical prescrip-
4.i.
NOTES
235
tion', 'lust-dieted' may mean 'whose appetite (of all kinds) is ruled solely by his lusts or desires'—wh. wd pointedly cover Glo.'s own case. 67. slaves (F) i.e. as if the social order were his slave not a master imposing obligations. Q 'stands'— graphic misreading, ordinance see G. 67-8. that will...notfeel i.e. who refuses to see the misery he does not feel. Now Glo. cannot see, he begins to feel. 68. quickly Perh. a triple pun—(a) very soon; (3) while he is still alive; (c) sharply, piercingly (cf. Per. 4. 1. 28). 69. distribution Quibble; see G. 73. in the confine'd deep—over the Narrows, the Straits of Dover [Cap.]. 78. S.D. F'Exeunt.'. Qom. 4.3 Gon., Edm. and Osw. having journeyed from Glo.'s castle to the palace of Gon. and Alb. (cf. 3.7.1-20) have now arrived. Gon. has sent Osw. to find Alb., and proceeds to welcome Edm. to her dwelling. S.D. Loc. (Cap., subs.) Entry (Theob.) £) 'Enter Gonorill and Bastard.', F 'Enter Gonerill, Bastard, and Steward.'. 2. S.D. (Theob., subs. < Q ' E n t e r Steward.', after 'maister'). F om. (cf. previous note). It is significant of Osw.'s intimacy with Gon. that she appears to let him hear all that follows. 11. S.D. (Han) Q , F o m . 12. cozoishterror(F) W.A.W.'s conj. 'currish terror' wd be far less appropriate to the 'mild' Alb. See G. 'cowish'. 13. undertake see G. 13-14. he*II...answer, i.e. he'll ignore injuries 'which a man of spirit would resent' (Ver.). 14. Ourwishes i.e.thatEdmundmightsupplantAlb. as her husband, on the way=talked ofon our way together.
236
NOTES
4.2.
15. May prove effects=will perhaps be realized. brother i.e. brother-in-law. 17. arms (Q +Camb.) F'names'. I.e. she will lead the army, taking 'cowish' Alb.'s sword. K. cites Cymb. 5. 3. 33-4, 'which could have turned a distaff to a lance', and Wint. I. 2. 37 where the distaffis a woman's weapon. Budd (R.E.S. xi, 427) shows too thatthe Host's complaint about his quarrelsome wife in Chaucer's Pro/, to Monk's Tale (11.13-24) was prob. in Sh.'s mind here; as was the Monk's Tale at 3. 6. 6-7 (see n.). 20. F's brackets indicate a significant change of voice, Gon. 'is presumably going to ask Edm. to murder Alb.' (Muir), and then to marry her. Q om. 21. mistress's=(a) liege lady's, (b) lady-love's. S.D. (J. at end of line). 27. due Emphatic. Antithetical to'usurps'in 1. 28. 28. A...bed. (G.I.D.
4.2.
NOTES
237
For the quibble see G. 'whistle', Heywood's Proverbsi 'A poore dogge that is not woorth the whystlyng' [Steev.]. Breton, Packet of Mad Lett, 1603 [cited O.D.E.P. 'Poor', p. 510], 'There are more maids than. Maulkin, and I count myself worth the whistling after', and Tilley, W 311, 'Not worth a whistle'. whistling (G.I.D.
51. iear'st (F),Q'bearest\ SeeG. Poss.'bar'st'-—
238
NOTES
4.2.
an echo of Luke vi. 29—upbraiding him for Christian long-suffering. 52-3. discerning...suffering which can discriminate between dishonour and forbearance, eye discerning (Rowe) F 'eye-discerning'. 53-9. that...so?' From Q. F om. 54. Fools...punished i.e. it is only fools who pity the villains that get punished, etc. [
4.2.
NOTES
239
manhood—Mew!* < Q corr. 'your manhood mew') Cf, Greg, Variants, p. 175. Mew! 'A derisive exclamation' (O.E.D.)—very apt to Gon. because suggesting a cat. £) uncorr. 'your manhood now—' (adopted by Theob., and others) 'seems to be a sarcastic withdrawal of her former charge of want of courage' (Ver.). Some explain 'mew' 'shut up', as hawks were shut up in their 'mews' or cages. S.D. (F). 72. eyes! (Camb.
4-3 From Q; F om. whole sc. We correct Q's erroneous punct. without comment. G.-B. (pp. 148-9, n., 228) considers this' a carpentered scene if ever there was one',
240
NOTES
4.3.
wh. explains the K. of France's sudden return in 'the clumsiest few lines in the play' (11.1-6), and provides 'a dramatically feeble excuse for the delay in handing Lear over to his daughter's care' (11. 37-44), with none at all 'for the devoted Kent letting the distracted old man out of his sight to roam the fields' (see 1. 5 2, n.). In a word G.-B. thinks the F cut well advised 'on the principle— and it is an excellent one in the theatre—of: "Never explain, never apologize."' Cf. too Greg, M.L.R. (1940), pp. 444—5. Both think the change in France's plans (11. 1-6) conceal a change in Sh.'s, which was prob. due, apart from the desire of avoiding the affront to patriotism of a Fr. victory over Britain, to a general reconstruction of the plot. Yet J. F. Danby points out this scene is necessary for 'a full understanding of Cordelia' (Sh.'s Doctrine of Nature, p. 229). S.D. Loc. (Steev.) Entry (Q). 2 - no (0, 1) Q 2 (+Camb.) 'the'. 10. your letters One missive (cf. 1. 5.1). Sh. forgot that at 3. 1. 35 ff. it was a verbal report Kent asked the Gent, to give to Cord. 12. Jy, sir; (J.) Theob. ' I , sir,'. Q ' I say/. 15. rebel-like Cf. Caes. 2.1.67 ff. 'the state of man', etc. (with n.); ibid. 3. 1. 40 'rebel blood'; and Tw.N. G. 'revolt'. 16. it i.e. the letter. 17. rage see G.; patience see G.; strove (Pope) Q 'streme'. 18. Who which. 18-25. You have...become it. Muir cites Sidney, Arcadia 1590 (ed. Feuillerat, p. 376): her teares came dropping downe like raine in Sunshine, and she [Philoclea] not taking heede to wipe the teares, they ranne downe upon her cheekes, and lips, as upon cherries which the dropping tree bedeweth. Cf. also Tilley, L 92 a. 'To laugh and cry at once (like rain in sunshine)'.
4.3«
NOTES
241
20. Were...way (K. <Singer) Q 'Were like a better way'. I.e. were like that, but were even more attractive. See n. in the 1949 ed., and for another interpretation Jespersen in S.P.E. XLVIII, 270-1. 21. ripe='ie& and full' (On.) like cherries (see H. 18-25, n.) seemed- (Pope) Q 'seeme'. 25. could...it=COVL11 make it so becoming, question see G. 30. not believe it ( 2 (+Camb.; G.I.D. 1949) 'not be beleeu'd'—wh. Mai. explained 'Let not such a thing as pity be supposed to exist'. Pope's text gives better verse and a meaning apter to the context. Poss. Q copy read 'not beleeft' (=not believe it) and the 'be' was added in proof [J.D.W.]. 30-1. There...eyes Cf. Introd. p. xx-xxi and G. 'holy water'. 31-2. eyes That clamour (J.D.W.) Q 'eyes, And clamour*. Mai. interprets Q 'she moisten'd clamour, or the exclamations she had uttered, with tears'. But it is her clamour (cries of grief) that moistens her eyes, not vice versa. 32. clamour moistened} then (Cap.+Camb.) Q 'clamour moystened her, then'. As Mai. noted, the Q comp.'s eye caught the hypermetrical 'her' from the line above. But the comp. had hold of the right meaning, which Mai. had not. 34. conditions see G. 35. make see G. 38. King sc. of France. Cf. 1. T. 43. elbows him=either (i) 'stands at his elbow* (W.A.W.) i.e. 'haunts' (Schmidt); K. ditto, citing Marlowe, Ed. II, 5.1.32-3, 'this cave of care [ Where sorrow at my elbow still attends'; or (ii) 'forcibly thrusts him back' (Craig); cf. 'detains him' (1. 48). 44. turned her sc. out. 5 2. Some dear cause We are never told what.
342
NOTES
4,3.
54-5. When...acquaintance. Cf. his similar attitude towards the other Gentleman at 3. 1. 46-9. Lending— for having lent. 56. S.D. Q 'Exit.'.
4.4 S.D. F heads 'Scena Tertia'. Loc. (Muir) Rowe 'A Camp', Cap. 'The same. A tent'. Entry < F subs., but reading 'Doctor' for F 'Gentlemen' ( ^ G e n t l e man'?). Q 'Enter Cordelia, Doctor and others.* 2. mad...sea Cf. Ham. 4. 1.7. 3-6. Crowned...corn Cf. the description ofthe weeds in untilled France at H. F, 5. 2. 44 ff.; and for 'Crowned' 4. 6. 80, S.D. n.j 182, n. 3. fumiter (Theob.) Q 'femiter', F 'Fenitar'. F gives 'femetary' at H. V, 5. 2.45—prob. Sh.'s spelling. 4. hardocks (F 3 subs.) Q 'gor-docks', F 1 'Hardokes'. Unidentified plant. Poss. error for 'charlocks' or its dialect form 'harlocks' (see E.D.D.), as Farmer conj. 6. sustaining Contrasted with 'idle weeds', century Q 'centurie', F 'Center/'. Cf. 'cohorts', 1. 2. 151. 8. S.D. (
4.5.
NOTES
243
4-5 S.D. F heads 'Scena Quarta'. Loc. (Cap., subs.) Entry F 'Enter Regan, and Steward.'. F, Q sp.-hdgs. for Osw. are 'Stew.' or 'Ste.' throughout. 4. lord (?) Q/lady'—which J. thought 'the better reading'. 9. ignorance see G. 12. in...misery A thin cloak for parricide. 18. charged...duty made a special point of. See G. 'charge'. 21. Borne things (F) Q 'Some thing'. Camb 'Something'. I'll...much i.e. I'll make it well worth your while, cf. K.J. 3. 3. 67-8, 'Hubert I love thee', etc. 22. rather— (F). 25. ^///^(O.E.D.)'Eliads'(F).Rowe'ceiliads', See G. 27. madam! (Muir) F 'Madam?' Osw. misinterprets 'bosom' (see G.) at first; cf. R. Ill, 1. 2. 124, 'in your sweet bosom'. 28. understanding=h\owledge; cf. Wint. r. 1. 20. you are (Rowe+Camb.) F 'Y'are'—awkward in a mod. text. 29. take this note=take note of this. 32. gather more i.e. guess the rest. 33. this Presumably a love-token. 39. him (Q) F om. 40. S.D. F 'Exeunt*.
4.6 S.D, F heads 'Scena Quinta'. Loc. (Theob.) Entry (F+Theob.) Edg. has "received the 'best 'parel' promised by the Old Man at 4. 1. 49. 1. I (F) Q ( + Camb.) 'we'. 7. speak'st (F) Q 'speakest'—perh. better. N.S.K.L.-17
244
NOTES
4.6.
11-22. how fearful...so high. Despite Addison's praise of this passage, J. wrote: I am far from thinking it wrought to the utmost excellence of poetry. He that looks from a precipice finds himself assailed by one great and dreadful image of irresistible destruction. But this overwhelming idea is dissipated and enfeebled from the instant that the mind can restore itself to the observation of particulars and diffuse its attention to distinct objects.
Brilliant psychology, as ever with J., but here non ad rem because as C. Knight observed: The mode in which Edg. describes the cliff is for the special information of the blind Glouc,—one who could not 'look from a precipice*. The crows and choughs, the samphire gatherer, the fisherman, the bark, the surge that is seen but not heard,—each of these, incidental to the place, is selected as a standard by which Glouc. can measure the altitude of the cliff. Transpose the description into generalities ... and the dramatic propriety at least is utterly destroyed. The height of the cliff is then only presented by an image to Gkmc.'s mind upon the vague assertion of his conductor [ap Furn.].
For Sh.'s description of a cliff to a man with eyes, see Ham. I. 4. 69-78. J.C.M. compares Spenser's in F.Q. in.x. 56-7; esp. 57,11.4-6, with 11. 49-52 below. 15. samphire (Q) F 'Sampire'. Cf. Dray ton, PolyOlbion, XVIII, 763-4, 'Dovers neighbouring Cleeves [=cliffs, cf. 1. 57, n.j of Sampyre'. 17. walk (Q 'walke') F 'walk'd'. ?,l. unnumb're"d=innumerable. pebble (F, Q) Collective, Q 2 (+Camb.) 'pebbles'. 24. Topple...headlong sc. taking me with it. 27. leap upright 'Even if he jumped straight up in the air he would be in grave danger of toppling over the edge' (Muir). 28. another Cf. 4. 1. 63. 29. Fairies K. refers to a popular superstition that
4.6.
NOTES
245
'hidden' treasure is guarded by fairies and that they make it multiply miraculously in the possession of the discoverer'; cf. Wint. 3. 3. 117-18, and n. 32. ye (F) Q ( + C a m b . ) ' y o u \ 33-4. Why...it. Cap.'s'Aside'. Colloquial syntax. 34. S.D. (Q) F om. 39. snuff see G. nature=human life. 39-40. should...out sc. like a stinking, spluttering candle-end. What a picture of the old age that Sh. himself never reached! 41. S.D. (Camb.+K.) £> ' H e fals.'; F om. 42-8. Cap.'s asides. 42-4. And...theft i.e. 'And yet Glo.'s merely imagining that he is dying may be enough to kill him, since he has no desire to stay alive'—a sequ el to 11. 3 3-4. 46. sir...speak (punct. Camb.) F ' S i r : Friend, hear you, Sir, speake:'. 49. gossamer (Campbell) Q'gozsmore', F ' G o z e more', Pope 'goss'mer'. 50. F's brackets. 53.' at each=one on top of another. 54. fell= fallen. See Abbott, § 344. 57. summit (Rowe, ed. 11) F'Somnet'; cf.Ham.i, 4. 70 (Q 2) 'the dreadfull somnet of the cleefe'. 58. a-height Theob.'s hyphen, shrill-gorged seeG. 'gorged'; cf. Ham. 1. 1. 151, 'shrill sounding throat'. 63. tyrant's F 'Tyranrs'. 66-7. strangeness. Upon...what (punct. Camb.) F 'strangeness, Vpon...o'th'Cliffe. What'. 71. whelked (Han.) F 'wealk'd'—a spelling, enridg/d(Q) F 'enraged', poss. minim error; see 1949 ed. p. 182. 72. father=old man. Edg. may take 'comfort in thus addressing Glo.' (K.). 73-4. make...impossibilities- acquire honour by working miracles. Cf. Luke xviii. 27; Tilley, M 471, 'Man's extremity is God's opportunity*.
246
NOTES
4.6.
76-7. //// it do...die. 'till Affliction has had enough of it, i.e. Affliction will tire before Glo. does' (J.C.M.). 80. S.D. (G.I.D.+J.D.W. See 'Crowned', etc., 4. 4. 3-6). F 'Enter Lear.', Q 'Enter Lear mad.', Cap. ( + Camb.) 'Enter Lear, fantastically dressed with wild flowers.'. Sisson(n, p. 241) insists upon a hat. But see 1.182, n. below. And is not Sh. thinking of Christ's crown of thorns, wh. wd necessitate a bare head? Cf. Introd. § VI. 81-2. The safer...thus. 'A sound mind wd never let its possessor dress himself up in this fashion' (K.). 83 ff. No, they... He first imagines himself being chased by officers anxious to arrest him as a counterfeiter; then 'coin' suggests 'press-money', and that suggests recruits shooting at the butts; at this point he catches sight of a mouse, commands silence while he tries to catch it with a piece of cheese, etc.—ideas following each other with little more than verbal connexion. 83. coining (
88. drazo...yard=draw the bow to the full length of the arrow. A difficult feat; yet the imaginary recruit in 1. 91 is supposed to bring it off. Steev. compares Chevy Chase—'An arrow of a cloth-yard long | U p to the head drew he'. 90. do't i.e. help me catch it. There's...giant. He now imagines himself a champion throwing down his gage, it i.e. my cause. 91. brown bills see G. His mind reverts to the army and his archers.
4.6.
NOTES
247
91-2. O...foiDgh! Addressed to- an imaginary (feathered) arrow; the whistling sound, 'hewgh' (cf. 'whew' 1 H. IV, 2. 2. 40) being either an imitation of the arrow, or a cry of astonishment at the success of the shot. See G. 'clout', and cf. 1. 88 'draw...yard'. hewgh! F 'Hewgh.' Coll. adds S.D.. 'Whistling'. 92. Give the word. Now a sentry, he challenges Edg. "Whose 'word' (see G.) is 'marjoram'—'in allusion to Lear's "wild flowers"' (Ver.), and because 'according to Culpeper' (Physical/ Directory, 1657) this was l& blessed remedy for diseases of the brain.' (Blunden ap. Bradby, p. 333). Cf. Son. 99. 7 'buds of marjoram'. 96. Ha!...beard? ( < F ) He takes Glo. for Gon. disguised (K.). 96 ff. They flattered me etc. see Introd. p. liv. 97.flattered—fawned upon. 97—8. told.. .there, i.e.' told him he had the wisdom of age before he had reached that of youth' (Cap.). ' They'=the world in general. Lear, in retrospect, sees that his character had been spoilt since childhood—like that of most princes. 97. the white (F) Q (+Camb.) 'white*. 98. my Emphatic. 98-9. To say 'ay' and eno* A way of referring to flattery. Cf. Palsgrave, Acolastus, 1540 (E.E.T.S. ed.), 14, 3-4, 'To flatter hym, and holde him vp with ye and nay', and Cooper's Thesaurus, 1565, s.v. 'assentor', 'to flatter...to holde vp ones yea and nay' [J.C.M.]. 100. no good divinity =not good theology (see Ep. of James v. 12). 100-3. When the rain...'em out Cf. A.Y.L, 2. r .
6-12. 105. not ague-proof J.C.M. cites Florio, Montaigne, I, xlii, 'Doth the ague...spare him [the king] more than us?'. 107. S.D. (J.D.W.) Cf. 1. 80, S.D., n.; 1.182, n .
348
NOTES
4.6.
108. the subject Collective=my people. Cf.Per.z. X. 48, n. 109. cause see G.; cf. Oth. 5 . 2 . 1 , 'It is the cause*, etc. and Lev. xx. 10. 117. pell-mell see G.—suggests 'soldiers'. 118-31. Behold.. .thee. F prints as prose. 118-21. Beholdyond simp'ring dame etc. Cf. Hall, Virgidemiarum (1598), iv. i. 156-7, 'sits shee simpring in her pew | Like some chast dame, a shriued saynt—in. shew' [J.C.M.]. 119. Whose...snow i.e. 'Whose face presages snow between her forks' (=legs). T . Edwards (1748) cites Tint- 4. 3. 387 (the same image used conversely). 120. minces virtue—behaves in an affected way so as to suggest chastity. 121. name Emphatic. 'It shocks her even to Hear the word mentioned' (K.). 122. soilid see G. In mod. slang 'full of beans'. Sh. seems to be echoing here Florio's Montaigne, n, xv, ' I have heretofore put forth an old stallion tosoile' (wh. O.E.D. misunderstands, see 'soiled' ppl. a2). 124-7. Down...fiend's. Cf. Tilley, W 520, 'There is no wisdom (law) below the girdle'. Cf. Introd. § IX 128. there is the (F) Q (+Camb.) 'ther's the'. 130-1. Give...for thee. As prose in Q and F, prob. correctly. Punct. and text as in F (subs.). Most'edd. follow Q—'Giuc.Ciuet, good Apottfocarie, to sweeten...', civet see G. Prob. ironical, since the perfume was made from 'the very uncleanly flux of a cat' (A.Y.L. 3. 2. 64-5). 134. piece of Nature=Nature's masterpiece. This great world'= the universe; cf. 3. 1. 10, n. 136. / remember...eyes Clearly Glo.'s were not bandaged; cf. 4.1.10, n., ad fin. 137. blind Cupid Sometimes in Sh. 'hoodwinked with a scarf {Rom. 1, 4. 4), sometimes without eyes
4.6.
NOTES
249
(A.Y.L. 4. T. 208). For 'the sign of bKnd Cupid' at the door of a brothel, see Ado, 1. 1. 238-39. 138. challenge sc. Cupid's, wh. he has just rejected. His mind reverts to 11.89-90. of it (F) Q'oft' £ 2 (+Camb.) 'onY. 140. this sc. this spectacle. Han.'s 'aside'. 143. the case of eyes i.e. empty eye-sockets. Cf. 1. 136, n.; 4. I. 10, n. 144. are...me?=is that what you mean? 145. heavy case—svA plight. Quibble on *case'=» socket. 148. feelingly Another quibble—(a) by feel, (J>) keenly. 156. cur? (Q2+Camb.) F ' C u r : ' . Sisson, taking 'And' as = 'if', reads 'An the creature run from the cur, there thou mightst...'. 157. a dog's Emphatic. 159-62. Thou, rascal...zvhipp'st her see Introd. p. xxxvi. beadle see G. Cf. .2 H. IF, 5. 4. 5, n. 160. thy (F) £> (+Camb.) 'thine'. 162. The...cozener, i.e. one kind of cheat hangs another. The usurer i.e. a money-lender on the bench; usury being a respectable way of defrauding others. 163. Through (Q) F 'Thorough', great (F, J.C.M.) Q (+all edd.) 'small'. 'In Q, Lear makes the commonplace remark that the rich can get away with murder, etc., while the poor are punished for petty offences. But in F the whole drift of the speech is that we are all "in the same boat, all offenders".' Theft, whoredom, cozenage, etc., are not "small" vices but sin (cf. 11. 164-6). The Q/F relationship here is of the same kind as "last but not least"/"last and least"—• (1. 1. 82) and "hours"/"years" (2. 2. 58)' [J.C.M.]. 164. Robes and furred gowns App. refers to judges and magistrates. Cf. Meas. 3. 2.6-10, which voices the same complaint, viz. that usurers, allowed by law (i.e. the Act of 15 71), became wealthy citizens and sat on the
NOTES
4.6.
magistrate's bench. For the rbbes used in the Law Courts, see Sh. Eng. 11, 395-7. hide all i.e. cover a multitude of sins. .Muir cites Lucr, 93, 'Hiding base sin in plaits of majesty'. 164-9. P^te.,.lips (
4.6.
NOTES
251
182. this great stage etc. Cf. J.T.L. 2. 7. 139; Tilley, W 882, 'This world is a stage', etc. This\..block Much debated. All agree that'block' = hat, which ace. to eccles. practice Lear removes (or imagines he removes) before beginning his sermon (cf. I Cor. xi. 4). Some actors make him wear a felt hat (cf. 1.184) and Sisson gives a S.D. at 4. 6.80, 'Enter Lear, his hat bedecked with weeds &flowers'.But Lear is' unbonneted' at 3.1. 14, 'bare-headed' at 3. 2. 60; and if Cord, is to be believed (4. 7. 36) in the present sc. also, while if, as Sisson notes, such exposure wd seem 'almost indecent' to Sh.'s audience, that only emphasizes Lear's pitiable plight. Besides, where has the hat come from meanwhile ? Has Lear been shopping in Dover ? Irving got over the difficulty by taking Edg.'s hat; other actors have taken Glo.'s (Sprague, p. 294). Yet the mad king has a hat—a royal one, the crown offlowers,as Cord, tells us at 4.4. 3, and wh. gives point to 4.6.107. This he takes off, and before putting it down to begin his sermon, turns it round in his fingers admiringly—had he not made it himself?—and says 'This is a good block!', a remark that inevitably calls up the 'felt' in 1. 184. This' (Singer) =This is. F ' T h i s ' . S.D. (J.D.W.) 184. FII...proof, FromF. Q om. 185. son-in-laws Hyphens < F 4 . 186. kill...kill! 'Formerly the word given in the English army, when an onset was made on the enemy' (Mai., citing Fen. 652). S.D. (F) +'with attendants' (
z$z
NOTES
4-6.
sum; would be well tended and his wounds carefully dressed. 192. cut...brains Madman's variation on 'cut to the heart'; but no doubt imagining a wound in battle. 193. No secondsP sc.'No rescue?' see G.'second'. 194. salt sc. tears. 196-8. Ay...you that? G.I.D.'s lining. 196. Ay,...dust. ((+Camb.) 'that.'. 200. there's...in't. = lthe case is not yet desperate' (J.). *»(Pope) Q , F ' a n d \ 200-1. it...it The ransom (cf. 1. 191). 201. Sa, sa ' Here the King challenges his pursuers: "Come on! come on! Catch me if you can!" And so he runs off...waving his arm in a defiant gesture' (K.). K. cites six other exx. (not in O.E.D.) all app. cries of challenge or incitement to fight. Cf. also Alarum for London (1602), M.S.R. 1134 Q.C.M.]. See G. 'sa, sa', 'sessa*. S.D.
4.6.
NOTES
253
i.e. Gon. and Reg. The F comp. may have repeated the V of'a king' earlier in the line [G.I.D.]. 208. vulgar—common knowledge (Muir). that, (F+Camb.) We retain F comma, contrary to mod. convention, lest 'that' shd be taken as antecedent of 'which' (1. 209). 211-12. the main...thought.=sight of the main part of the army is hourly expected. 214. S.D. F'Exit.'. 215. ever-gentle Cap.'s hyphen. tafa..jne viz. at the appointed hour. 216. my zoorser spirit Cf. the Bad Angel in DrFaustus (esp. 2. 2. 20-3), and above, 11. 72-9. 217. Well fray you=Y on pray well, father see 1. 72, n. 219-22. tame see G. art see G. pregnant see G. biding see G. 224. To boot, and boot (F) For Q readings, see Greg, Variants, pp. 175-6. 'By the repetition Glo. wishes to convey both meanings of "to boot": "in addition (to my thanks)" and "(the bounty of heaven) be your help" (Her.).' S.D. Q, F 'Enter Steward.'. 227. Briefly...remember i.e. you have but a moment to recollect your sins. 229. S.D. (Coll. <J. 'Edgar opposes') Q, F om. 233. Chill...cagion ' Somerset dialect, the usual speech of Eliz. & Jac. stage rustics. Chill'=1 will cagion (Q) F "casion'. See Kokeritz, pp. 38-9 for Edg.'s dialect. 235- gau (£>, F) seeG. Steev. (+Camb.)'gaitV 236. voke (Q) F'volk'. See Kokeritz, op. cit. 2 3 6-7. An.. .vortnight. = ' If I had allowed swaggering to kill me, I should have died at least a fortnight ago' (K.). 238. che vor' ye=I warrant you (Muir). See Kokeritz, op. cit.
254
NOTES
4.6.
239. Ice (F) Q 'ile'. J. (+Camb.) ' I s e \ whither (F) = 'whether' (the Q form), hallow (F) see G. See Greg, Variants, pp. 176-7, for Q readings. 241. S.D. (Q) F om. 242-3. no matter...Joins The foppish Osw. follows the fashionable thrusting style of fighting; Edg., the good old English downstroke, albeit with a cudgel; cf. Rom. 2. 4. 20-6, and G. Silver's Paradoxes of Defence, 1599 (Sh. Assoc. Facs. no. 6, 1933). 243. S.D. (Camb.) Q, F om. 246. letters One missive. 248. British (Camb.
4.6.
NOTES
255
is the letter finishing 'and you own Goneril for venture*
(J.D.W.). 268. O...zoill! 'O woman's lust, how limitless is thy range!'(K.). 269. upon=against. Cf. G. 'on'. 270-2. Here...lechers•=I'il shovel thee into an unsanctified grave here in the sands, messenger of lecherous murderers. Perh. 'unsanctified'=unsanctifiable. Edg. speaks as if they were actually on Dover beach. The 'sands' were convenient to the context and Sh. prob. felt he might risk the inconsistency. But how was the body disposed of on the stage? Does Edg. drag it 'off' at 1. 27 5, leaving Glo. talking, and then return at 1.2 81 ? 271. tkou.post (Furn. conj.) F 'the poste'. 272. mature Accented 'mature'. 273. strike see G. 274. death-practised see G. 277. ingenious feeling acute consciousness; see G. 'ingenious'. 281. S.D. (F). 283. S.D. F 'Exeunt.'.
4-7 S.D. Zor. (Steev. after Cap.) Entry (Craig) F 'Enter Cordelia, Kent, and Gentleman'. Q 'Enter Cordelia, Kent, and Doctor'. Both Gent, and Doct. are needed in the full sc. but F cuts 11. 85-97, and so saves a 'part* by combining them. See p. 124. Though F (+Delius, Craig, K., Muir, etc.) has at 1. 20 the S.D. 'Enter Lear in a chaire carried by Seruants', Camb.+most mod. edd. begin the sc. with a discovery of 'Lear on a bed asleep'. Apart from the fact that Sh. envisaged no inner stage in this play (see Greg in R.E.S. xvi, 300-3), Bradley (Sh. Trag. pp. 453 ff.) notes this opening 'discovery' as 'utterly wrong' and going far to defeat Sh.'s purpose. This sc. 'shows the first meeting of Cord, and Kent, and the first meeting of
256
NOTES
4.7.
Cord, and Lear since' 1.1. That being so, Lear's presence asleep at the opening wd distract the audience's attention from the dialogue with Kent and make it absurd that she should ignore Lear for 20 lines. Still more absurd is Lear's attempt to kneel (1. 57) 'if he is in bed'. And as G.-B. notes (p. 182), 'when he conies to himself it is to find that he is royally attired, and as if seated on his throne again. It is from this throne that he totters to kneel at Cord.'s feet.' Al. and Sisson 'discover' Lear on a bed or couch at 1. 2 5 after 'Louder the music there' (see 11. 24-5, n.); an unsatisfactory compromise. 3. every measure fail me—because it cannot be measured. 5. reports sc. about Lear, go with =accord with. 8. Pardon (F) Q ( + Camb.) 'Pardon me'. 9. Tet...intent To be recognized already would spoil my plan. Cf. 'short' at Cymb. 1. 6. 199. 12. S.D. (Theob. subs.) Q, F om. 16. wind up=put right—put in tune as by tightening the strings of a musical instrument. 17. dild-c/iange'd=l "changed by his children". So care-crazed, crazed by care' (Mai.); cf. 11. 28-9. Not 'changed to a child' (Steev.); Lear was mad, not childish. 18. King?...long. (Han., subs.) F'King,...long?', Q 'king,...long.'. 20. arrayed i.e. in his royal robes [G.-B.], see G. 21,23. sp.-hdgs. As in Cap.+Camb. F 'Gent.' at 1. 23;£)'Doct.'atl. 21,'Gent.'at 1. 23. 21. o/(F) £)(+Camb.)'ofhis\ 24. not (£>) F om. 24-5. Cordelia. Very well. Doctor. Please...there! From Q; F om. S.D. (J.D.W.) < F 'Enter Lear in a chaire carried by Seruants'—at 1. 20. But the request 'Be by, good madam', etc. and Cord.'s assent clearly precede the entry, while 'Please you draw near', etc. as clearly follows it. Note F omits 1. 25, perh. because the
4-7.
NOTES.
257
music was cut out of the prompt-book, which may account for the displacement of the entry. 31. Did challenge (F) Q, (+Camb.) 'Had challenged'. 32. warring (Q) F 'iarring'—perh. a misreading (Sisson). 33-6. To stand.. .helm P From Q; F om. 33. dread-bolted Theob.'s hyphen. 35. lightning? To (Theob., subs.) Q'lightning to \ 35-6. To watch...helm Alluding to the most hazardous & exposed mil. duty of Sh.'s day. See G. 'perdu', 'watch', 'thin'—all quibbles, thin helm=bare or bald head; cf. M.N.D. 2. 1. 109, 'old Hiems' thin and icy crown', watch...perdu!— (Warb., subs.) Q 'watch poore Per du,\ 36. helm? Mine ( < Q 2) Q r 'helme mine'. enemy's (Pope+Camb.) F 'enemies', Q 'Iniurious* (?misreading of'enimies'), Cap., Rid. 'insurer's'. 38-40. wast thou fain...straw Cf. Introd. p. xxi. 39. rogues i.e. vagabonds. Cf. 'roguish', 3. 7. 103. 40. short sc. giving no warmth. 42. ; F 'Gen.'. 46-8. I...lead. 'Lear thinks he is in hell; ...the torments of the wheel of fire' being 'traditional in the med. legends and visions of Hell and Purgatory', derived from the New Test. Apocrypha (Muir < H . W . Crundell). Cf. Introd. p. xxii. 47. that=so that. 49. when (Q 2) Q, F 'where'. Q 2 was read by Camb. and most 19 c. edd. exc. Coll. & Schmidt, while Dyce (Remarks (1844), p. 231) found F 'all but nonsense', to wh. Coll. replied: 'It may appear to others no greater nonsense to ask a spirit " Where did you die?" than " When did you die ?". He is, as Cord, says,'' Still, still, far wide!". G.I.D. (1949) quoting this, restored F
258
NOTES
4-7.
and was followed by Al. (1951) and Muir (1952). T o J.D.W. Coll.'s argument is more specious than cogent. Lear, restored to sanity, is 'still wide', still bewildered, being' scarce awake', but now quite rational. Remembering that he has been in hell, he thinks atfirstthat he must be in the next world and Cord.' a soul in bliss'. The question 'when did you die?' is therefore perfectly natural and affecting. The geographical question, 'where' wd be irrational because pointless, 'all but nonsense'; the question of a madman: and even if psychologically defensible, which rightly considered it is not, wd be dramatically inept, a mere puzzle to the reader or spectator, a jarring note in an otherwise perfect movement. The words 'when' and 'where' (sp. 'wher') are often confused; cf. Qq. 2 H. IF, Ind. 36; Ham. 2. 2. 469 (N.S» 452). 51. sp.-hdg. (
4.7.
NOTES
259
And they go on kneeling and counter-kneeling for another 30 lines!—a ridiculous stage-trick out of which Sh. makes the lovely game Lear proposes at 5. 3 . 9 - 1 1 : We two alone will sing like birds i'th'cage; When thou dost ask me blessing, I'll kneel down And ask of thee forgiveness. 58. i W ( F ) Q 'hands'. 59. No, sir, you, (Q+Camb.) 'You'. S.D. (J.D.W.) me (F) Q om. Her words explain his intention (to the audience). 59-63. Pray...perfect mind see Introd. p. xxviii. 61. Fourscore and upward Prob.=over eighty but not yet eighty-one (cf. T.L.S. 26 April 1957, letter by D. S. Bland, on the date of Chaucer's birth). 69, 74. F's brackets. 71. Yes, faith He touches her cheek. 78. sp.-hdg. (Q) F 'Gent.', great rage=violent delirium (K.). 79-80. and...lost. FromQ. F o m . 80. even o'er (Q 'euen ore') Usu. explained 'smooth over', hence 'fill up the gap', hence 'render unbroken in his recollection' (W.A.W.). This is strained; and seems to lack proper lexicographical warrant. G.I.D. suggests a misreading of 'reliue ore' (relive over again) butadmitsits tautology. J.D.W. conj. *earn ore' (=grieve over); another poss. misreading. 81. go in i.e. in theatrical terms, go off-stage. 82. settling see G. Will't (Rowe) Q, F 'Wilt'. walk see G. 84-5. forget and forgive Cf. Tilley, F 597, S.D. Q *Exeunt. Manet Kent and Gent.'; F 'Exeunt'. 85-98. From Q. F om. Though the matter is nee. to the plot, the cut is prob. theatrical, as the talk is between minor characters at the end of a full and intense sc. [G.I.D. 1949 ed. p. 8]. 86. Holds it true—Has it been confirmed.
a6o
NOTES
4.7.
93. look about see G. 94. //fe kingdom i.e. Britain. 96. S.D. (
S.D. Loc. (Cap., subs.) Entry (F subs.) but reading 'Officers' (Muir) for F's 'gentlemen', wh. is what 'officers' were called in Sh.'s day. I. sp.-hdg. Q, F 'Bast.'. So throughout the sc. last purpose sc. to join forces with us; cf. 4. 5.1-3. 4. self-reproving 'conscientious scruples' (Muir). constant Emphatic. S.D. (Camb.) Q, F om. 5. our sister's man Oswald. 6. doubted seeG. 8. First two dashes <J. 9. honoured see G. I I . forfended (QJ sc. by the commandment against adultery. F 'fore-fended', place i.e. Gon.'s body. 11-13. Edmund. That...hers. < Q ; F om. 11. abuses you=dishonours you. 13. as...hers—'m. the fullest sense of the word. 15. I...shall = I can never bring myself to. An indirect advance to Edm. 16. me (Q) F om. 17. S.D. (Fsubs.) 18-19. From Q; F om. Theob.'s 'aside*, lose.., loosen Note the word-play. 21. hear (Theob.+Camb.
0JXW.J.
22. rigour ofour state 'harshness ofour rule' (Muir). 23-8. Where....nobly. From Q; F om., leaving Reg.'s 'Why...reasoned?' pointless. The text may be
5.i.
NOTES
261
corrupt. Muir suspects 'the repetition "with others whom". Indeed, "with others...cry out" and "with others...make oppose" appear to be either two attempts at recollection by the reporter or two "shots" in Sh.'s "foul papers". Yet the gen. sense is fairly clear: " I could never fight except in a cause I believed in. As regards the present affair, France is our enemy as an invader, not as a supporter of King Lear.'" Q.D.W.] 28. nobly Sarcastic, reasoned see G. 32. ancient of war see G. proceeding (F) Q (+Camb.) 'proceedings'. 33.
262
NOTES
5.a.
5-3 S.D. Loc. (Cap., subs.) Entry (G.I.D. and J.D.W.) Q 'Alarum. Enter the powers of France ouer the stage, Cordelia with her father in her hand. | Enter Edgar and Gloster.'. F 'Alarum within. Enter with Drumme and Colours, Lear, Cordelia, and Souldiers, ouer the Stage, and Exeunt. | Enter Edgar, and Gloster.'. i. father see 4. 6. 72, n. 4. S.D. (i) < F , Q •Exit.' (ii) (G.I.D. and J.D.W.), F 'Alarum and Retreat within.' Q 'Alarum and retreat' i.e. trumpetcalls. (iii)(F). 12. Ripeness is a 11=all that matters is that one is ready for death when it comes. Cf. Ham. 5. 2. 200— 'the readiness is all', all. Come (Rowe, ed. 11, subs.) £>, F 'all come'. S.D. F 'Exeunt.'.
5-3 S.D. Loc. (Mai.) Entry (F subs.) Q 'Enter Edmund, with Lear and Cordelia prisoners'. 1. sp.-hdg. Q, F 'Bast.'—and throughout sc. 2. their greater pleasures=the wishes of persons of higher rank (
5-3.
NOTES
263
hearpoorrogues ( < Q ) F 'heere (poore Rogues)', poor rogues i.e. visitors, who are interested in such things, poor wretches. 15. in sc. office. 16. take upon 's=pretend to understand. A playful hit at the 'philosophers' he had thought so much of when mad. 17. As.. .spies='as if we were angels commissioned to survey and report the lives of men' (J.). Cf. Ham. 4. 3.47,11. God's Q,F'Gods'. To read 'Gods", because Sh. 'was writing of a pagan world' (Perrett), is surely pedantry. Cf. Introd. p. xxii. wear out see G. 18. packs see G. 19. That...moon. Cf. M.N.D. 2. r. 103, 'the moon, the governess of floods' and Rom. 2. 2. 109, 'th'inconstant moon', by th'moon every month. 20. such sacrifices The speech represents the last stage of Lear's process of redemption, viz. a joyful and 'serene renunciation of the world with its power and glory and resentments and revenges'; and it is upon such a renunciation the gods themselves throw incense—• the message of the gospel itself. [See Bradley, pp. 285, 289-90]. R. W. Chambers cites Wisdom (in Apocrypha), iii. 6: 'As gold in the furnace hath he tried them, and received them as a burnt offering.' 21. Have...thee? Intended to recall'Have I caught my heavenly Jewel?' from Sidney, J stropheIandStella (2nd song, 1. 1)—used in a very different context at M.W.W. 3. 3. 40 [Mai.]. 22. shall =mast. 23. likefoxes sc. 'are driven from their holes' (K.). The brand must be brought from heaven; only by Heaven can they be separated now. 24-5. The good-years...weep The gen. sense is that Lear and Cord, cannot be made to weep by Gon. and Reg., however much the latter prolong their wretched lives. 24. good-years F 'good yeares'. Origin disputed— N.S.K.L.-18
264
NOTES
5.3.
'came to be used in imprecatory phrases, as denoting some undefined malefic power or agency* (O.E.D.). 'What the good year!'='What the devil!' (cf. 'what the good-year' in Ado, x.^.i;2H.IF, 2.4. 57,173). Cf. also On. ii. Here in one sense it may signify the years of 'their evil prosperity' (Muir); in another 'the supernatural powers of evil', which would protect their evil servants for a long time, even if 'devouring' them in the end. flesh and fell see G. Perh. suggests that they are animals. Cf. Introd. p. xlvii. 25. Ere...weep! 'Asudden flashofthe old passionate nature'(Bradley, p. 290). starved ( < F ) Q(+Camb.) 'starue'. 26. S.D. (Theob., subs.) F 'Exit.'. 28. S.D. (Mai., at end of 1.) Q, F om. 32-3. Are...sword i.e. 'may be merciful in time of peace, but must be savage in war' (K.). tender-minded Hyphen Rowe's (ed. 11). 34. bear question admit discussion. 36. happy i.e. fortunate, thou'st (Rowe) F. 'th'hast' £)(+Camb.) 'thou hast'. 39-40. I cannot...do't ( < Q ) Fom. Cf.Macb.i.J. 46, ' I dare do all that may become a man'. The crude form suggests a crude nature, apt for the deed. 40. S.D. (i)
5-3.
NOTES
265
54. f (F) Q (+Camb.) 'to'. 55. session. At (Theob.+Camb.) Q 'session at': 55-60. At...place. ( (+Camb.) 'thine', attaint (Q) F 'arrest'—repeated from 1. 83. S.D. (J.); Q, F om. 85-90. For your claim...bespoke. My wife's hand is already promised to Edm. (provided she can abrogate a previous contract) and I acting in her interests forbid your banns. See G. 'sub-contracted'. 85. sister(Q) F'Sisters'. 86. bar(Rowe,ed.n) £ , F 'bare'. 88. banns Q 'banes', F 'Banes'
266
NOTES
5.3.
90. An Interlude! (F) Q om. see G. 94. S.D. (Mai.) Q , F o m . make(F) Q(+Camb.) 'proue'. See 1949 ed. p. 161. 97. Rowe's 'aside'. medicine here=poison (On.). 98. S.D..(Mal.) Q, F o m . he is (Q) F ' h e s \ 100. the (F) Q (+Camb.) 'thy'. 103. Edmund. A...herald! From Q; F~om. 104. sp.-hdg. Q, F om. (see prev. note), thy single virtue=your own valour. 107. S.D. (i)
5.3.
NOTES
26j
fortune (Rowe), F 'fire new Fortune'. Cf. R. Ill, I. 3. 256, 'Your fire-new stamp of honour'. 134. illustrious (Q) F 'illustirous'. prince Alb. 135-6. from.. foot A bombastic way of saying' from head to foot'. 136. descent see G. 140. In wisdom Because a knight should refuse to fight with one of lower rank. 142. tongue some say (Mai.) Q 'being some say', F 'tongue (some say)', Q, F misinterpret 'say'. See G. 143. < F . £>om. 146. hell-hated as hateful as hell. 147. Which Antecedent 'treasons'. yor=since. bruise sc. me. 148. give.-..way =make room for, carve out a passage for. them**'treasons' (1. 145); 'Which' (1. 147) being left without predicate by change of construction. 149. Where Ref. to Edg.'s heart. Where...ever. 'His success in the combat will prove that Edgar is the traitor, and the treasons will remain with the victim' (Muir). S.D. (Han., subs!) F 'Alarums. Fights.', after 'him!' in 1. 150; Q om. 150. Save him etc. ( < F ) Q om. Theob. (+some edd.) assigns to Gon.; but 'Alb. desires' this 'only to obtain his confession and to convict him openly by his own letter' (J.). 153-4. Shut...stop it (F) Q. 'Stop...stapleit.' Al. and Muir conflate 'Shut...stopple it'—perh. rightly (J.D.W.). But see G.I.D. ed. 1949, p. 43. 154. this paper i.e. her letter to Edmund (4. 6.
259 £.).Hold=Wait. S.D. (i) (J.D.W.=Cap.conj.)F,£)om.Cap.explains 'Hold, sir' as addressed to Edg., in reiteration of'Save him' (1.150), lest he should dispatch Edm. (now on the ground) before Alb. had questioned him on the letter. Most edd. make Alb. address it to Edm. as he hands the letter to him. This accords with a S.D.' Gives the letter
268
NOTES
5.3.
to Edmund' which J. and many mod. edd. insert at 1.156 after ' I perceive you know it'. Yet Alb. could not give Edm. what he was just about to make Gon. look at; and why give away at all, least of all to Edm., a vital piece of evidence in settling the account with his treacherous wife, which must come to the State trial he is clearly preparing for in the double arrest at 11. 83-5. At the moment what he clearly wishes is to confront her with the damning document while keeping a tight hold of it himself. S.D. (ii) (J.D.W.) All he shows, as 1.15 5 tells us, is her name subscribed. 156. tearing Sh. improves on the old play, where Leir asks Ragan 'Knowest thou these letters?' and there follows the S.D. 'She snatches them and teares them'. 158-9. monstrous! O/\ Know'st (Globe, subs.) Q 'monstrous know'st', F 'monstrous! O, know'st'. 159. Know'st...paper? Addressed to Gon. in Q; to Edm. in F. But 'Gon. needs an hysterical, not a defiant, exit line; Alb. wd not turn to Edm. to ask his question about the letter, and then belatedly give instructions about his wife; and it is difficult to reconcile Edm.'s confession (1. 162) with his defiance two lines earlier. Knight and Kirschbaum argue that as Gon. has already admitted she knows the letter, it is unnecessary for Alb. to ask again "Know'st thou this paper?". But Gon. has only implied that she knows the paper in the words "Say, if I d o " ; Alb. wants a direct admission' [Muir (+Camb.) 'thou hast'.
5.3.
NOTES
269
169-72. The gods...eyes 'The dramatic answer to Glou.'s cry, 4. 1. 36' (Muir). 'Lear, intemperate in. mind, is betrayed by unfilial daughters and loses the light of his mind; Glo., intemperate in body, is betrayed by his bastard son and loses the light of his body' (R. W. David). 169. pleasant see G. 173. here i.e. I end as I began at the lowest point of Fortune's wheel. 174. S.D. (Han.). 176. split my heart Cf. R, III, T. 3. 300; W.T. T. 2. 349. 177. Worthy see G. 182. The...proclamation see 2. 1. 60-3, 110-11; 2. 3. 1-3. 183-5. F's brackets. 183. life's (J.C.M.) Q, F 'Hues', all edd. 'lives'', but the meaning, Maxwell notes, is rather 'the sweetness that life has for us' than 'the sweetness of our (several) lives'. 184-5. zve...once=Mve prefer to suffer the pain of death every hour than to have done with it by dying at once. 186. / ' ( F ) Q (+Camb.) ' T o ' . 191. Brackets in Q, F. fault='mistake* or perh. 'misfortune' (cf. Per. 4. 2. 73; M.W.W. I. I. 87; 3. 3. 208). See 4. 1. 38-9,11. 193. this good success i.e. his defeat of Edm. SeeG. 'success'. 195. our pilgrimage our wanderings about together. !Perh. with a Christian significance—by the end of the journey Glo.'s soul is saved. [G.I.D., withdrawing Q's l my pilgrimage', see 1949 ed., p. 191.] 195-8. But his flawed heart...smilingly Cf. Lear's death—and the account of the old blind king's death ia Sidney's Arcadia (quoted at 1. 310, n.). 196. Brackets < F ; Q om. 202. dissolve i.e. to tears. Cf. Ant. 5. 2. 298-9. 203-20. Edgar. This...slape. From Q; F om.
270
NOTES
5.3.
203-6. This would...extremity Difficult; poss. rather corrupt. Ver. interprets: All who do not revel in grief would have thought that the limit had been reached in this story; another such story by increasing that which is already too much would make 'much' into 'more' and pass beyond the utmost limit. 206-7. And top...man, Lined as by Ridley. Theob. (+Camb.) divide 'extremity | Whilst'. 207. /* (Q+Camb.) Theob. (+many) om. 212. my father i.e. my father's body. 215. the strings...crack i.e. his heart began to break. Thus he enters (1. 228) a dying man. See G. 'strings of life', and cf. 1. 234, n. and 312, n. 216. crack: twice then (Theob.+Camb.) Q 'cracke twice, then'. 217. tranced in a swoon. 219. enemy i.e. who had declared himself his enemy. 220. S.D. (Camb. conflating Q 'Enter one with a bloudie knife,', and F 'Enter a Gentleman.' 221-2. Gentleman. Help...knife? (F) Q om. 'O helpe' and 'Speake man', and assigns 'What kind of helpe, what meanes that [sic] bloudy knife?' to Alb. smokes Fresh, blood commonly 'smokes' in Sh. 223. of— Long dash in F; hyphen in Q. O, she's dead! (, Fom. 232. Han. has S.D. 'To Kent'. 233. manners urges For 'manners' sing, see Rom. 5. 3-2I4234. To bid... aye goodnight i.e. with his last breath. He cd not know that Lear wd himself be dying.
5.3.
NOTES
271
236. Speak, Edmund 'No sufficiently clear reason is supplied for Edm.'s delay in attempting to save Cord, and Lear', though Sh. seems on the brink of telling us at 11. 162-3, 198-9. 'The real cause lies outside the dramatic nexus. It is Sh.'s wish to deliver a sudden and crushing blow to the hopes which he had excited' (Bradley, p. 253). 'It is as if Sh. said to us: "Did you think weakness and innocence have any chance here? Were you beginning to dream that ? I will show you it is not so" (ibid. p. 271). 237. object seeG. S.D. (Q) F 'Gonerill and Regans bodies brought out.' (1. 230). 244. F's brackets. N o t i n g . 245. Is on =Has been issued against. 247. To who, my lord Spoken to Alb.; Edg. never calls Edm. 'my lord', has (F) £> (+Camb.) 'hath'. office sc. of killing them. 250. the captain Cf. 11. 27-40. Haste...life! Q ( + Camb.+Al.) assigns to Alb. ('Duke.')-, F ( + Muir) to Edg.—'improperly', since 'Edg. had the moment before received the token of reprieve' from Edm. [Mai.], while Edg. clearly takes Alb.'s 'Run, run, O run!' as addressed to himself. S.D. (J.D.W.<Mal.+Camb.). None in Q, F. Cf. G.I.D. 1949 ed. p. 191. 256. S.D. (i) 'Edmund...off' (Theob.), Q, F om. (ii) 'Enter...arms' (Q, F). 'Edgar...following' (Mai. +Camb.). Lear, I think, lays the body down on the front stage, and then speaks, standing over her. 257. men of stones Cf. R. Ill, 3. 7. 224 and n. 261. She's dead as earth Cf. Wordsworth's No motion has she now, no force; She neither hears nor sees, Rolled round in earth's diurnal course, With rocks, and stones, and trees. 262. stone=mirror. See G. 263. promised end— Last Day, foretold by the prophets.
272
NOTES
5.3.
264. Or.. .horror.—If this is not the end of the world, it is a picture of what it will be. horror. (Q 1, F) Edd. generally prefer Q 2 'horror?'. Fall and cease I Let the skies fall, and the end come! 267. S.D. (Theob.+Camb.) 271. Ha? (J.D.W.)=eh? F ' H a : ' Q 'ha,'. Camb. 'Ha!' He thinks he hears her speak and bends down to listen. 272-3. Her voice...wornan. He explains to himself why he cannot hear her now. Cf. Introd. p. xxv. 274. a-hanging Hyphen Dyce's; Q, F om. 275. sp.-hdg. (Cap.) Q 'Cap.', F 'Gent.'. 276-7. / have seen...skip Cf. Justice Shallow in M.W.W.2. 1. 2 o 3 , ' I have seen the time, with my long sword I would have made you...skip like rats.' [Steev.], and Oth. 5. 2. 264-7. 277. them (Q+Camb.)—his enemies in general. F 'him'—prob. sophistication. 278. spoil me 'i.e. as a swordsman' (Muir). 279. TII...straight=1*11 tell you in a moment who you are. 280-1. If Fortune...behold Meaning debated, yet one of the most poignant incidents in the play. The utterly devoted and humble servant awaits recognition from 'his enemy king' (1. 219), in eyes that blazed in anger when they were last aware of his identity, viz. at the moment of his banishment. And that Sh. wishes us to have those eyes specially in mind is clear from Lear's double reference to his sight, elsewhere not mentioned. Engrossed by the fancied stirring of the feather (1. 265) Lear finds the figure who suddenly kneels at his side an intrusion, and does not even hear Kent's name, when Edgar pleads for him. But the memory of the blow that killed 'the slave' who hanged his beloved child recalls for a moment former sword-play in battle, and that in turn seems to awake memories of his old comrade in
5-3.
NOTES
273
arms, whom this man just come in somehow resembles. 'Who are you ?' he asks, coming close and peering into his face. What answer can Kent make? The usual interpretation of his words, and one accepted by Bradley (p. 465) takes them as addressed to the audience or the world in general and to refer to the misery of Lear alone. But the 'we' is not general; Kent and Lear are gazing into each other's eyes; the servant is speaking to his lord and master. 'Were there ever in history', he says, 'two who fell from greater happiness into greater misery than you and I ? ' Or, as Capell expounded the lines as long ago as 1779 {Notes, pp. 188—9): The two objects offortune's love and her hate are—himself and his master:...and of these two, says the speaker, you (the person spoke to) behold one, and I another. It is an appeal for understanding, for pardon perhaps, in the name of their fellowship, not now in battle, but in suffering. And it fails; for though Lear speaks his name, that enfeebled mind cannot accomplish the feat of associating 'Kent' with 'Caius', and has forgotten both by 1. 289, so that for Kent 'all's cheerless, dark, and deadly' indeed. 282. This.. .sight. He cannot believe his eyes which, 'not o' th' best', he thinks must be deceiving him. 'Are you not Kent?' he asks in astonishment. Many take 'This' as referring to the dead Cord. 283. Caius The name Kent had used in disguise. 285. strike sc. in defence of his master. 286. man— (Pope +Camb.) Q, F 'man,'. 287. I'll.. .straight=' I'll attend to that in a moment'. The mind returns to Cord.: Caius-Kent has ceased to interest him. 288. your.. .decay = the beginning ofyour change and of your decline in fortune. 289. steps— (Rowe) Q, F 'steps.'. You...welcome
274
NOTES
5.3.
hither Polite indifference. You are (Q 2, F 2—Camb.) Q i 'You'r',Fi 'Your are'. 290. Nor...else 'Welcome! alas here's no welcome for me or anyone' (Cap. Notes). Some take it as a continuation of Kent's last words, i.e. no one else followed you. This ignores the Fool and is too selfassertive for Kent. 292. desperately=from despair. 294. S.D. (
5.3.
NOTES
275
vesture of decay' (M.F. 5. i . 64.). And Kent, I think, loosens the button—his last service. 310-11. Do. ..there! Lear dies of joy, being 'sure, at last, that she lives' (Bradley, p. 291). Cf. Glo.'s death (11. 195-8 above). 'But his flawed heart | (Alack, too weak the conflict to support) 'Twixt two extremes of passion, joy and grief, | Burst smilingly.' The parallel is exact, and both, as R. W. Chambers notes {KingLear, 1940, pp. 44-5), owe something to Sidney's account of the death of the old blind king in Arcadia, 1590 (ed Feuillerat, p. 212): In which season the blind king...with many teares (both of joy and sorrow)...even in a moment died as it should seeme: his hart broken with unkindness & affliction, stretched so farre beyond his [=its] limits with this excess of comfort, as it was able no longer to keep safe his [=its] roial spirits. 311. Here F. gives the S.D. 'He dis.\ But this 'prob. comes a few lines too soon' (Bradley, p. 292, n.), and Edg.'s 'He is gone indeed' was, I think, intended to mark the moment, though the audience cd prob. see no difference between fainting and dying. 312. Break...break 'It is of himself he is speaking perhaps' (Bradley, p. 309). Cf. 11. 215, 234 above and nn. But at this point is not Rent's whole soul intent upon Lear? 314-15. upon the rack...Stretch Cf. the like image in Arcadia cited at 11. 310-11, n. 314. rack ( F 4 + C a m b . ) Q, F 1 'wracke'. tough (Q, F) = 'obdurate, rigid' (Steev.); Pope+J. 'rough'— perh. rightly, confusion of r and / being very common in 16th and 17th cent, books. 315. S.D. (J.D.W.) C f . l . 3 i i , S . D . n . 317. usurped see G. Bear...hence. Here Sh. had no curtain (as he had in Oth.) to hide the dead at the end of the play. Cf. 2, 3. S.D. (head) n., Greg R.E.S. xvi, 300-3; and Ham. 5. 2. 393-8, n.
276
NOTES
5.3.
319. S.D. (J.) £,Fom. 320. the gored state sustain ' The business oflife goes forward, as it will' (G.-B. p. 18 5). 322. / must...no. F 2 added here the S.D. 'Dyes' followed by Theob., Pope and J. (not Han. or Cap.) but rejected by Steev. and Mai. who notes 'the word shortly (i.e. some time hence, at no very distant period) decisively proves that the poet did not mean to make him die on the scene'—wh. wd indeed be theatrically a disservice to Kent's 'master'. 323. sp.-hdg. F'Edg.', Q'Duke'. On behalf of £> it has been argued that decorum requires that the concluding speech be delivered by the survivor of highest rank. On the other hand Edg. must reply to 11. 319-20, and 'the words "we that are young" come somewhat more naturally from his mouth than from that of Alb.' (Muir). 0&y=submit to. 325-6. It is possible to see in these lines an element of sombre optimism. Lear has lived long and has suffered dreadfully; but sucji appalling suffering will never occur again [G.I.D.Jy 326. S.D. (J.D.W.) F 'Exeunt with a dead March.', Q om.
*77
GLOSSARY Note. Where a pun or quibble is intended, the meanings are distinguished as (a) and (b) ABLE (vb.), O.E.D. (4c) glosses this 'warrant, vouch for' but gives no parallel, and O.E.D. (4*), 'empower legally', seems more apt to the context; 4. 6. 167
103; (ii) completely; 4. 7. 42; (iii) nothing but; 5. 3.53 ALLAY, abate, subside; 1. 2. !67
ABROAD, (i) out of doors; 1. 2.
4. 201 ALLOW, (I) approve of; 2. 4.
173; (ii) (being spoken of) far and wide; 2. I. 7 ABUSE, (i) delude; 2. 4. 303 j
4. 1. 2254. 7.53 (?iii), 77; (ii) treat unjustly; 3. 7. 90J (iii) do violence to; 4. 7. 15} (iv) dishonour; 5. 1. n ACCENT, mode of utterance; 1. 4. 1; 2. 2. 109 ACCOMMODATE, clothe, equip j 4. 6. 81 ACT, do; 2. 1. 19 ACTION-TAKING, one who pre-
fers going to law to fighting; 2. 2. 16 ADDITION, titles of honour (often heraldic); r. 1. 135} 2. 2. 22; 5. 3. 301 ADVISE, persuade; 5. 1. 2; ad-
vise oneself= take thought, consider; 2. 1. 28 AFFECT, (i) be fond of; 1. 1. I J
(ii) display; 2. 2. 94 ALARUM, a call to arms; 5. 2, head S.D.; 5. 2. 4 S.D. ALARUMED, roused to action; 2. 1. S3 ALBION, Britain; 3. 2. 85
ALL (adv.), (i) exclusively; 1.1.
ALL-LICENS'D, permitted to do
or say whatever he likes; r. 187; (ii) (refl.) lend oneself} 3. 7. 104 ALONE, only; 1.1. 74
ALTERATION, changes of mind; 5-1-3 AMAZED, bewildered, distracted; 3. 6. 33 ANCIENT, (i) belonging to past time, old-established; 1. 2. 1495 4. 1. 4 3 ; (ii) elderly; 2. 2. 60; 2. 2. 124; (iii) ' t h ' ancient of war' (collective) c=the officers long experienced in war; 5. 1. 32 ANSWER (vb.), (i) be responsible for; 2. 2. 144; (ii) defend oneself against; 3. 4 . 101 APPREHEND, arrest; 2. 1. 108
APPROVE, prove, confirm, prove the truth of; 1. 1. 183; 2. 2. 1575 2. 4. 179; 3. 5. 12 ARBITREMENT, decisive con-
test; 4. 7. 95 ARCH, chief, master; 2. 1. 59 ARGUMENT, subject, theme; r. 1. 214; (sc. of conversation) 2. 1.8
278
GLOSSARY
be gone! (addressed to a witch: origin unknown:, this form only here and in Sh.'s Mac. 1. 3. 6); 3. 4. 124. ARRAY (sb.), gaudy or ceremonial dress; 3. 4. 82 ART, (i) skill (of the magician or alchemist); 3. 2. 705 (ii) experience; 4. 6. 220 ASQUINT, 'look asquint'=look with suspicion (or with jealousy); 5. 3. 73 ATTAiNT=attainder, impeachment, accusation of treason; 5- 3- 84 ATTAXED, open to censure; 1. 4-344 ATTEMPT, try to defeat, 'tackle'; 2. 2. 120 ATTEND, await; 2. 1. 1255 2. 3- 55 2- 4- 35 AVOUCH, declare to be true; 2. 4. 233; 5. 1. 44 AWAY, hither, along; 2. 2. 136 AYE, for ever; 5. 3. 234
AROINT THEE,
(dialect word; see E.D.D.), cudgel; 4. 6. 239 BAN, curse; 2. 3. 19
BALLOW
BARBER-MONGER,
one
who
constantly frequents the barber's shop, i.e. a fop; 2.2. 31 BASE, base-born, bastard; 1. 2. 6 BATTLE, army; 3. 2. 23 BEADLE, petty parish officer who did the whipping (e.g. of rogues and whores) for the constable; 4. 6. 159 BEAR, (i) sustain (a part), exhibit (a mood); 1. I. 302; (ii) have (as a part of oneself); 4. 2. 51; 4. 6. 80
BEARING, endurance (sc. of
suffering); 3. 6. 106 BEAT (of thoughts or passions) throb, rage (cf. Ham. 3. I. 1775 3>. 1.2.176)53.4.14 BEDLAM, (i) the Hospital of
St Mary of Bethlehem in London, which by 1402 was a lunatic asylum; thus 'Bedlam' beggars=vagabonds either mad or claiming to be; 2. 3. 14; TOM O' BEDLAM, name commonly assumed by such vagabonds; I. 2. 138-95 (ii) transf. as name for a lunatic; 3. 7.10a BEGUILE, (i) deceive; 2. 2.108; (ii) cheat; 4. 6. 63; 5. 3. .153 BELIKE, probably; 4. 5. 20 BELLY-PINCHED,
starving;
('pinched'=tormented); 3. i- J 3 BEMADDING, making mad; 3.1.
38 BE-MET, met with; BEMONSTER, make
5. 1. 20 monstrous or inhuman; 4. 2. 63 BENCH, take one's place on bench in court of law; 3. 6. BEND, turn, direct; 2. 1. 46; 4. 2. 74 BENISON, blessing; 1. 1. 264;
4. 6. 223 BEREAVED, taken away; 4. 4. 9 BESORT, befit; 1. 4. 251 BESTOW, give lodging to; 2. 4.
2855 4. 6. 283 BETHOUGHT, 'am bethought'=»
have made up my mindj 2. 3-6
BEWRAY, reveal; 2. I. 107; 3.
6. n o BICE, endure; 3. 4. 29
GLOSSARY BIDING, abode; 4. 6. 222
BIG, loud; 5. 3. 207 BILL, halberd, pike; 4. 6. 91 BITTER, (i) biting, sarcastic; I. 4. 1375 (ii) pitiable (cf. O.E.D. 2, 3)5 i - 4 - I 3 9 . H 5 BLANK, white spot in centre of target; 1. I. 158 BLAST, (i) blight, any blasting or withering influence; 1. 4. 300; (ii) stormy gust of wind; 4. 1. 9 BLEAK:, cold; 2. 4. 296
BLISTER, cover with scabs, 2 . 4 . 164 BLOOD, (i) parentage, family, kinship; 3. 4. 167; 3. 5. 245 5. 3. 166; (ii) passion, anger; 4. 2. 64 BLOWN, inflated with pride; 4. 4. 27 BOBTAIL, with tail cut short; 3. 6. 69 BOLD (vb.), make bold, encourage (in opposition); 5. 1.26 BOND, tie of duty (towards parent); 1. 1. 92; 2. 4. 174
279
BOUND, (i) ready (cf. Ham. 1. 5.
6)> 3- 7- 85 (ii) 'bound to'=» purposing to do; 3. 7. 10 BOURN,
boundary
(ref.
to
Dover cliffs); 4. 6. 57 BRACH, bitch-hound; 1.4. n t j
3. 6. 68 BRAVE, splendid; 3. 2. 79 BRAVELY, (a) courageously,
{b) in fine attire; 4. 6. 196 BRAZED, hardened; 1. 1. 10
BREED, bring up (from childhood); 4. 2. 73 BROKEN
MEATS, remains
of
food (left after a feast and consumed by the menials); 2. 2. 13 BROWN BILL, halberd, painted
brown to prevent rust; 4 . 6 . 91 Buoy up, rise up, swell up; 3. 7-59 BURN (vb.), (a) normal sense, (b) infect with venereal disease; 3. 2. 84 Buzz, baseless rumour; 1. 4 . 326
BOON, petition; 4. 7. 10
BOOT, (i) something given in addition; 5. 3. 301; (ii) 'to boot'=(a) in addition, (b) to help (you); 4. 6. 224 •
CADENT, falling; 1. 4. 286
BOOTLESS, useless; 5. 3. 294
CANKER-BIT, worm-eaten; 5.
BO-PEEP, nursery game of hide-and-seek type; 1. 4. 177 BORDER (vb.), confine; 4. 2. 33 BOSOM, 'of her bosom'=in her
confidence; 4. 5. 26; 'the common bosom'=the love of the people, popularity; 5.
3- So BOSOMED, breast to breast (Muir)j 5. 1. 13
CAGE, (a) bird-cage, (J>) prison (for petty offences), lock«P5 5- 3- 9 3. 121 CAPABLE
(or),
qualified
to
possess; 2. 1. 85 CARBONADO, slash, score across (as in preparing meat for broiling); 2. 2. 36 CARRY, (i) (continue to) wield; 1. 1. 301; (ii) endure; 3. 2. 48; (iii) contrive; 5. 3. 37; (iv) 'carry out'=win; 5. 1. 61
280
GLOSSARY
CASE, (i) 'case of eyes'=eyesockets; 4. 6. 143; (ii) 'heavy case'=sad state; 4. 6. 146 (with quibble on (i)) CASUALTY, risk; 4. 3. 45 CATASTROPHE, denouement; 1. 2 - 137 CAUSE, (i) affair; 4. 3. 52$
(ii) a legal term=offence for wh. one is on trial (c£> O.E.D. 9); 4. 6. 109 CENSURE, judge; 3. 5. 355. 3. 3 CENTURY, troop of 100 menj 4. 4. 6 CERTAIN (adj.), safe; 1. 2. 84 (adv.) with certainty; 4. 2. CHALLENGE, claim as
due; 1.1. 525+-7-3 1 CHAMPAIGN, stretch of flat open country; 1. 1. 63
CHANGES, caprices; r. 1. 286
CHARACTER, handwriting; 1.2.
63; 2. 1. 72 CHARGE (sb.), expense; 1. 1. 8; 2. 4. 235 CHARGE (vb.), (i) thrust a weapon against; 2. I. 51} (ii) stress (lit. lay a load on); 4- 5- 18 CHATTER, shiver so that the teeth chatter; 4. 6. 101 CHE (dial.), I; 4. 6. 238 CHILDE, title (in ballads and romances) of youth of noble birth, lit. one not yet knighted; 3. 4. 182 CHILDLIKE, befitting a dutiful child; 2. 1. 106 CHILL (dial.), I will; 4. 6. 233, 240, 242 CHOUGH, usually in Sh. de-
notes 'the small chattering species of the crow family, esp. the jackdaw'} but here
'perhaps the Cornish chough or red-legged crow, which was abundant on the Sussex coast 150 years ago' (On.); 4. 6. 13 'CHUD (dial.), I would; 4. 6. 236 CIVET, perfume derived from the anal glands of civet-cat; (O.E.D. 2); 4. 6. 130 CLAMOUR, cries of grief; 4. 3. 32; 5. 3. 207 CLAP, 'at a clap'=at a stroke; 1. 4. 295 CLEAR, glorious; 4. o. 73 CLOTHIER'S YARD, an arrow
of the standard length; 4. 6. 88 CLOTPOLL, blockhead; I. 4. 48 CLOUT, mark shot at in archery; 4. 6. 92 COCK, (i) weather-cock; 3.2.3; (ii) small ship's boat, cockboat; 4. 6. 19 COCKNEY, a squeamish or overrefined woman; 2. 4. 118 CODPIECE, 'bagged appendage to the front of the closefitting hose or breeches* (O.E.D.); trans. (i)=penis; 3. 2. 27; (ii)=fool (since court jesters were 'usually provided with this unseemly part of dress in a more remarkable manner than other persons'—Douce); 3. 2.40. In each case there is a glance at the other sense. COHORT, body of troops; 1. 2, COLD, 'catch cold'=become cold (not the mod. 'catch cold', see O.E.D. 'catch' 48); 1. 4. 102 COLOUR, character; 2. 2. 135
GLOSSARY COME, TOUR WAYS! come on!
('ways' an old adv. gen.); 2. 2. 37 COMFORT (sb.), assistance; 4, 1. 165 5. 3. 297 COMFORT (vb.), minister relief to(cf. TF.T.z. 3. 56)53. 5. 21
281
suggestion of prison walls); 2. 4. 144 CONFINE (vb.), restrict, limit; 1. 2. 25 CONFUSION, ruin; 2. 4. 9 1 ; 3*
2.86 CONJUNCT, closely joined; $. 1. 12
COMFORTABLE, comforting; I .
CONSORT, company; 2. 1. 97
4. 3075 2. 2. 161 COMMEND, (i) deliver (a letter, etc.); 2. 4. 27j (ii) entrust; 3. 1. 19 COMMIT, commit adultery; 3.
CONSTANT, fixed; 1.1.42; 5.1. 4 CONSTRAIN, assume by effort; 2. 2. 95 CONTINENT (sb.), container; 3. 2.58
4. 80 COMMODITIES, advantages; 4 . 1. 21
COMPACT (vb.), confirm; i. 4. 3405 (pple.) knit together; 1.2.7; (adj.) in league (with him); 2. 2. 116 COMPEER (vb.), equal; 5. 3. 70 COMPLIMENT, polite ceremony; 1. I. 2995 5. 3. 232 COMPOSITION, (i) physical ana
mental components; 1. 2. 12; (ii) combination; 2. 2. 19 (with poss. glance at (i)) COMPOUND, mingle, copulate; 1. 2. 131 CONCEIT, imagination; 4.6.42 CONCEIVE, understand; 1.1.11 (with quibble on sexual sense in 12); take (my) meaning; 4. 2. 24 CONDITION, character, disposition; 4. 3. 34 CONDUCT (sb.), guidance, leading; 3- 6. 96; (vb.) lead, command; 4. 2. 16 CONDUCTOR, leader, commander-in-chief; 4. 7. 89
CONVENIENCE, favourable cir-
cumstances; 3. 6. 98 CONVENIENT, (i) decent; 3. 2.
56; (ii) fitting; 4. 5. 315 $. 1. 36 (with quibble on (i)) CONVERSE WITH, associate with;
1. 4. 16 CONVEY, manage with secrecy; 1. 2. 103 COPE, contend with; $. 3. 123 CORKY, withered; 3. 7. 29
COSTARD, head (humorous; lit. a large kind of apple); 4, 6.239 COUNSEL, secret; 'keep honest counsel'=keep an honourable secret; 1. 4. 33 COUNTENANCE, (i) demeanour;
I. 2. 160; 1. 4. 28; (ii) authority; 5. 1. 63 COURSE (sb.), (i) 'in bear-baiting, one of a succession of attacks' (On.); 3. 7. 53; (ii) regular process; 'meet the old course of death's die a natural death; 3. 7. 100; (vb.), chase; 3. 4. 56
CONFEDERACY, conspiracy; 3.
COURT'SY, 'do a court'sy to',
7* 44 CONFINE (sb.), limit (with poss.
lit. make a curtsy (bow) to, hence=yield to; 3. 7. 26
GLOSSARY
28a COURT
HOLY
WATER
(fig.),
fair, but empty words, flattery (see holy water)} 3. 2.
10
timid, faint-hearted (see O.E.D. 'cow', 4.), 4. 2.
COWISH, 12
(i) court jester'3 cap, in form of cock's comb j I. 4. 96 etc.; (ii) head; 2.4*
COXCOMB,
120
COZEN, cheat; 5. 3. 153 COZENER, one who cheats;
4. 6. 162 CRAB, small, sour, wild apple} i- 5- 15 CREDIT, trustworthiness; 3 . 1 .
35 CROAK (of the stomach of
bowels), make a rumbling noise (O.E.D. 3); 3. 6. 31 CROSS (sb.), thwarting; 5. 3. 278; (adj.), zig-zag; 4. 7. 35 CROW-KEEPER, boy with bow and arrows, employed to protect the corn from crows; 4. 6. 87-8 CRUEL (sb.), cruel being. Cf. O.E.D. 1 b, but only quote3 conventional addresses to a coy mistress; 3. 7. 64 CRY, beg for; 3. 2. 58; 'cry out'=protest, complain; 5. 1.23 CUB-DRAWN, sucked dry by her
cubs, and therefore ravenous; 3. 1. 12 CUCKOO-FLOWER, or Lady's Smock (W.A.W., quotes Gerarde's Herball, 1597, ir, 18, that, it flowers 'for the most part in Aprill and May, when the Cuckowe doth begin to sing her pleasantnotes withoutstatnmering');4.4.4
CULLIONLT, scoundrelly; 2. 2.
3°
CURIOSITY, over-particularity,
fastidiousness; 1. I. 6; 1. 2, 4; 1. 4. 71 CURIOUS, elaborate, subtle; 1.4. 34 CURST, savagely angry; 2.1. 65 CUTPURSE, thief (who cuts off purses worn at people's girdles); 3. 2. 90 DARKLING,
in the dark; 1. 4.
218 DARNEL='.LO//«»/ temulentum,
a grass harmfull to corn' (On.). But prob. 'tares' (Matt. xiii. 25) is meant (see 1 Hen. FI, G.) though in Drayton (Poly-Olb. xv, 166) 'the crimson darnell flower' seems to be the common poppy; 4. 4. 6. DAUB IT, dissemble. 'Daub' lit. ='cover over with white'— Lat. 'dealbare'—whence 'cover with plaster', and, fig., 'conceal, disguise', etc j 4. 1. 51 DEADLY, (i) entailing death or (perh.) damnation; 4. 2. 36; (ii) death-like; 5. 3. 290 DEAR, (i) precious; 1. 1. 181;
1. 4. 273; 4. 3. 45; (ii) affectionate; 2. 4. 97; (iii) important; 3. 1. 19 DEARN, dreary, dread, dire; 3. 7. 62 DEATH-PRACTISED, whose death has been plotted; 4. 6. 274 DEATHSMAN, executioner; 4.
6.255 'my very deed of love' = the exact truth about my love; 1.1. 70
DEED,
283
GLOSSARY DEER, Middle Eng.=animalsj 3. 4. 138 DEJECTED, humbled; 4. 1. 3 DELICATE, (i) sensitive; 3. 4.
12; (ii) ingenious; 4. 6. 1835 (iii) exquisitely beautiful; 4. 3- H DEMAND (sb.), enquiry; 1. 5. 3; (vb.), enquire, ask; 3. 2. 6S» 5- 3- 63 DENY, refuse; 2. 4. 85 DEPEND, be a dependant or
retainer; 1. 4. 250 DEPOSITARY, trustee; 2. 4. 247 DEROGATE, debased (sc. by its
barrenness); 1. 4. 281 DESCENT,lowest part; 5. 3.136 DESPERATE, reckless; 2. 4. 301 DESPERATELY, in despair; 5. 3.
292 DETESTED, detestable; 1. 2.
78; 1. 4. 263; 2. 4. 213 DIALECT, manner of speech peculiar to a person or theme; not necessarily localj 2. 2. 107
DIFFIDENCE, suspicion; 1. Z.
150 DIFFUSE, 'render confused or indistinct' (O.E.D.); 1. 4. 2 DIGEST, amalgamate; 1. 1. 127
DIMENSIONS, bodily parts; I. 2 7 DISCLAIM IN, deny all share in; 2. 2. 52 DISCOVER, expose; 2. 1. 66 DISMANTLE, strip off; r. 1.216
DISNATURED, lacking in natural affection; I. 4. 284 DISPOSITION, tendency or in-
clination of mood or character; 1. 1. 301; 1. 4. 222; 1.4.29352.2.15054.2.31 DISSIPATION, breaking up; I.
2. 151 NS.K.L. - 1 9
DISTRIBUTION, (a) administra-
tion (of justice; cf. Cor. 3. 3. 99), (b) sharing out; 4. 1. 69 DITCH-DOG, dead dog thrown into a ditch; 3. 4. 133 DIVIDE
(intrans.),
be
dis-
united; 1. 2. n o DIVISION, disunion; r. 2. 139,
149; 3. 1. 19; 3. 3. 8 Do DE, a sound representing the chattering of teeth; 3. 4. 57 DOUBT, fear; 4. 7. 24; 5. 1. 6 DOUBTFUL, suspicious; 5. I. 12 DRAGON, a constellation in the
northern hemisphere; 1. 2. 132 DRAW, win (fig. from gamb« ling); 1. 1. 84; 3. 3. 22 DREAM, delusion; 1. 4. 325 DUNGHILL, 'A term of re-
proach for a person meanly born' Schmidt (cf. K.J. 4. 3. 87); 4. 6. 241 DWELL IN, depend on; 2.4.182 EAR-BUSSING, lit. ear-kissing,
(hence) whispered, discussed only secretly; 2. 1. 8 EARNEST, initial advance payment for; 1. 4. 95 EARNESTLY, eagerly; 1. 2. 28 EFFECT, 'to effect'=in im-
portance; 3. 1. 52 EFFECTS, (i) outward manifestationsj 1. 1. 130; 2. 4. 175; (ii) accomplished factsj 4. 2. 15; (iii) results; 1. I. 184; 1. 2. 146 ELEMENT, appropriate place, lit. 'that one of the "four elements" [earth, water, air, fire] which is the natural abode of any particular class of being' (O.E.D. I2)j 2. 4. 56
284
GLOSSARY
ELF, twist; 2.3.10. (Elveswere thought to tangle people's hair into 'elf-locks')
1)5 cf. Si. Eng. 1, 133 wh. says Sh. does not mention it! 5. 3. 276
EMBOSSED, swollen; 2. 4. 210
FASTENED,
ENGINE, mechanical contrivance or instrument of any kind; 1. 4. 269 ENGRAFFED, implanted, firmly fixed; 1. I. 294
grained; 2. 1. JJ FAVOURS, facial features (ref. to beard—general for particular); 3. 7. 40
ENGUARD, surround as if to
FEATURE, shape of body, outward appearance (not merely facial); 4. 2. 63
guard, arm (Schmidt); 1. 4. 327 ENORMOUS, abnormal; 2.2.166 ENTERTAIN, (i) treat; 1.4. 59$
(ii) take into service; 3. 6.78 EPICURISM, 'conformity to the
supposed principles of Epicurus' (O.E.D. 2). Hence 'sensuality' or (prob. here) 'gluttony'; 1.4. 244 ESFERANCE, hope; 4. 1 . 4 ESSAY, test; 1. 2. 46 ESTATE, condition; 5. 3. 208
EVIDENCE, witnesses) (at trial in court of law); 3. 6. 35 EXASPERATE, enrage; 5. 1. 60 EXCELLENT, surpassing; 1. 2 . 121 EXECUTION, exercise, use; 1 . 1 .
136 EXHIBITION, monetary allowance (sc. from his eldest daughters); 1. 2. 25 EXPENSE, extravagant spending; 2. 1. 100 EXTREMITY, (i) extreme vio-
lence; 3. 4. 102; (ii) the utmost limit; $. 3. 206
confirmed,
en-
FEARS, (i) frightens; 3. 5. 4
FEEL, test; 1. 2. 89 FEELING, heartfelt; 4. 6. 220 FEELINGLY,(«) withmysenseof
feeling, (b) keenly; 4. 6.148 FELICITATE, made happy; 1 . 1 . 74 FELL (sb.), skin of animal; 5, 3. 24; (adj.) fierce; 2. 1. 50 FELLOW, companion; 3. 1. 48
FEN-SUCKED, drawn up from marshes by the sun; 2.4.163 FESTINATE, speedy; 3. 7. 10
FETCH (sb.), trick, excuse; 2 . 4 . 86 FIELD, open country as opposed to woodland or town (see O.E.D. 1). The common sense: a piece of land, surrounded by hedges, not found in Sh.; 3. 4, 112 FIERCE, energetic; 1. 2. 12 FIND, discover (to be so); 1. 2.
505 2. 4. 192 FINICAL,
over-fastidious
(in
FAITHED, believed; 2. 1. 70
dress); 2. 2. 17 FIRE-NEW, straight from the furnace, newly minted, brand-new; 5. 3. 131 F I T (adv.), suitably, advantageously; 1. 2. 187
FALCHION, 'a broad sword more or less curved, with the edge on the convex side' (O.E.D.
FITLY, at a suitable moment; 1. 2. 172
FAIN, (adv.) gladly; 1. 2. 665 1.4. 295 (adj.) glad; 4. 7. 38
FITCHEW, polecat; 4. 6. 122
GLOSSARY FITNESS, inclination; 4. 2. 63
FORFENDED, forbidden; £. 1.11
FIXED (of disease), incurable.
FORK, (i) barbed arrow-head; I. 1. 143; (ii) 'forks'= lower limbs; 4. 6. 119
d. fastened; 3. 4. 8 FLAKE, lock of hair; 4. 7. 30 FLASH, break out; I. 3. 5
FLAW (sb.), fragment; 2. 4. 281; (vb.), damage, crack; „ 5- 3- 195 FLESH AND TELL, prov. phrase
=entirely (O.E.D. 'flesh', ie); 5-3-24 FLESH (vb.), initiate in bloodshed; 2. 2. 44 (orig. 'reward a hawk or a hound with a piece of the flesh of the game killed to excite its eagerness in the chase'. On.) FLESHMENT,
excitement re-
sulting from first taste of blood or combat (see fiesh (vb.)); 2. 2. 121 FLICKERING, shining with 'an unsteady or wavering light' (O.E.D.);2. 2. 106 FLY, (
OFP,
desertion
(cf.
Ant. 2. 2. 153); 2. 4. 87 FOIN, thrust in fencing; 4. 6. 243 FOLLOWING, attending to; 2 . 2 .
H7
FOND, foolish; r. 2. 50; 1.
4. 3025 4. 7. 60 FOOT (vb.), (i) obtain a foothold; 3. 3. 13; 3. 7. 455 (ii) walk over; 3. 4. 120 FOP, fool; 1. 2. 14 FOPPERY, foolishness; 1. 2. 121 FOPPISH, foolish; 1. 4. 167 FORBEAR, (i) avoid; 1. 2. 163;
(ii) restrain myself; 2.4.105 FORDO, destroy; 5. 3. 254, 291 FORE-VOUCHED, previously pro-
fessed; 1. 1. 219
FORKED, two-legged; 3. 4. 107 FORLORN, destitute; 4. 7. 39
FORM, established procedure; 3- 7- 25 FRANK, generous; 3. 4. 20 FREE, (i) unguarded; 2. 3. 3;
(ii) untroubled; 3. 4. 115 3. 6. 106; 4. 6. 80 FRET, form by wearing awayj 1. 4. 286 FRETFUL,angry,peevish; 3.1.4 FROM, (i) contrary to; 2. 2. 965
(ii) away from; 2. 1. 1245 2. 4. 201, 286; (iii) 'give from', see. give; r. 1. 124-5 FRONTLET, ornamental band worn on forehead; here fig. for frown; 1. 4. 189-90 FRUITFULLY, plentifully; 4. 6.
261 FUMITER, mod. fumitory; 4. T,
4< 3
FURNISHINGS, trimmings, em-
bellishments; 3. 1. 29 FURRED
GOWN,
professional
gown, worn by lawyers, justices, clergy, etc. (Linthicum, p. 183); 4. 6. 164 FURROW-WEEDS, weeds growing on ploughed land; 4. 4. 3 GAD, sharp spike, goad; 'upon the gad'=suddenly (as if moved by a prick); 1. 2. 26. (Cf. phr. 'on the spur of the moment') GALE, breeze (cf. Tp. $. 1.
316); 2. 2. 77. GALL (sb.),fig.intense bitterness, or something causing it; 1. 4. 104.
GLOSSARY GALLOW (more usually 'gaily* and now only dial,), terrifyj 3- 2. 44 GARB, style, fashion (of speech or behaviour); never= 'fashion in dress' with Sh.j 2. 2. 95 GASTED, frightened; 2. i . 55
GATE, way (see O.E.D. sb.*); 'go thy gate'=get along with you! 4. 6. 235 GENERAL (adj.), (i) collective; 'the general dependants'= all the dependants; 1.4. 62; (ii) universal, i.e. involving the whole human race; 4. 6. 204 GENERATION, parents; 1. 1.
116 GENEROUS, of quality befitting the high-born; 1. 2. 8 GENTLE, (i) noble, well-bora (conventional complimentary epithet); 4. 6. 206j (ii) merciful; 4. 6. 215 GENTLEMAN,
man of good
birth attached as servant to household of person of high rank; 1. 3. 1 GERMEN, germ, seed; 3. 2. 8 GET, beget; 1. 2. 15; 2. 1. 785 3. 4. 146; 4. 6. 116 GIVE FROM, deprive someone of
Something; 1. 1. 124—5 GIVE (ONE) WAY, let him go his
own way (cf. Caes. G.); 2. 4. 294 GLASS-GAZING, given to studying one's appearance in the mirror, vain; 2. 2. 16 GLASS EYES, spectacles; 4. 6.
169 Go, (i) walk; 1.4.1225 (ii) 'go to' (exclam.)=Come, come!, Enough!} 1. 4. 92; 3. 3. 8j
(Hi) 'go to it*=copulatej 4. 6. 112, 122 GOATISH, lustful; 1. 2. 130
GORGED, lit. throated; 'shrillgorged'=shrill-sounding; 4# 6.58 GRACE (sb.), (i) natural charm, attractiveness; 1. 1. 57; (ii) favour; 1. 1. 228, 264, 271; 1.4. 1665 (iii) divine favour; 5. 2. 4 ; (iv) honour; 2. 2. 129; (v) a person of high rank (here='a king'); 3. 2. 40; (vi) mercy; 3. 2. 59} (vii) good qualities; 5. 3. 68 GRACE (vb.), honour; 5. 3. 62 GRACED, honourable, dignified; 1. 4. 246 GRACIOUS, kindly; 4. 2 . 4 1 GROSS, (i) flagrant; 1. 3. 55
(ii) large; 4. 6. 14 GROSSLY, obviously; 1. 1. 289
GUARDIAN, an official title, now Warden, e.g. Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports (see O.E.D. 3)5 2 . 4 . 247 HALCYON, kingfisher; 2. 2.76.
A dried specimen of the bird hung up so as to move freely was supposed to turn in the direction of the wind (after Steev.) HALF-BLOODED, of good family only by virtue of one parent; 5- 3- 81 HANDY-DANDY.
A game: a
child passes an object from one hand to the other behind his back while another child has to guess in which hand it is. Here=take your choice! 4. 6. 152
287
GLOSSARY HAPPY, (i) opportune; 2. 3. 2j
HONOURED, honourable; 5 . 1 . 9
(ii) fortunate; 4. 6. 72, 2245 5-3- 3 6 HATCH, lower half of a divided door (used to keep children or animals in or out); 3.6.72 HEAD-LUGGED, dragged along by string or chain round the head; 4. 2. 42 HEADY, impetuous, hasty; 2 . 4 . 106 HEAT, (in the)=while the iron is hot; 1. 1. 304 HEAVY, (i) grievous (with quibble on normal meaning); 4. 6. 146; (ii) important; 5. 1.27
HORSEWAY, bridle path; 4. 1.
HECATE, goddess of the in-
fernal regions, queen of night, ghosts, witchcraft and magic rites; 1. 1. 109 HELL-HATED, hateful as hellj 5. 3. 146 HIGH-ENGENDERED,
(a)
'en-
gendered high in the heavens', with perhaps (b) 'a suggestion of the meaning "sublime"' (K.); 3 . 2 . 2 3 HIGH-JUDGING, (a) judging in
heaven, (b) judging as supreme judge; 2. 4. 224 H I T , agree; 1. 1. 300 HOLD, keep back, wait; 5.3,154 HOLLA (vb.), shout to; 3. 1. 55 HOLLOWNESS, insincerity; 1. 2.
116; and 1. 1. 153 (with quibble on acoustical sense) HOLP, helped; 3. 7. 61 HOLY
WATER, blessed
host; 3. 7. 40 HUNDRED-POUND,
'app.
con-
temptuous epithet for a pretender to the title of gentleman (perhaps referring to a minimum propertyqualification)'(On.); 2.2.14 HURRICANO,
waterspout
(cf.
Trot!. 5. 2. 172); 3. 2. 2. Found elsewhere in this sense only in a passage ia Drayton's Mooncalfe (1627), p. 494, which may be an echo of Trail. IcE=Ise (dial.), I shall; 4. 6. 2 39 IDLE, (i) foolish; 1. 2. 50; 1. 3.
17; (ii) useless; 4 . 4 . 5; 4. 6. 21
IGNORANCE, stupidity; 4. 5. 9
IMAGE, exact picture, close description; 1. 2. 178; 2. 4. 8 7 ; 5. 3. 264 IMMEDIACY, direct relationship; 5. 3. 66 IMPATIENCE, lack of selfcontrol, passion; 3. 6. 5 IMPERTINENCY,
irrelevance,
nonsense; 4. 6. 173 IMPORT, signify, involve as a consequence; 4. 3. 5 IMPORTUNED, importunate; 4.
4. 26 by
a
priest for use in Catholic ritual; 3. 2. 10; 4. 3. 31 HOME (adv.), (i) straight to the point; 2. 1. 5 1 ; (ii) thoroughly; 3. 3. 12; 3. 4. 16 HONEST, chaste; 1. 2. 9
HOSPITABLE, belonging to a
IMPRESSED, conscripted; 5. 3.
Si IN-A-DOOR, indoors; 1. 4. 126 INCENSE, incite; 2. 4. 302
INCLINE TO, side with; 3. 3.14 INDISTINGUISHED, indefinable}
4. 6. 268
283
GLOSSARY
KIBE, ulcerated chilblain on the heel; 1. 5, 9 102 KIND, naturally affectionate; INFLAMED, (a) lit. set on fire, I. 1. 1235 1. 4. 3075 1. 5. (b)fig.passionate; 1.1. 254. 335 2.4.49; 4. 6.115; 4.7, INGENIOUS, conscious; 4.6.277 29 INHERIT, possess; 2. 2. 17; 4. KINDLY, (a) with natural 6. 126 affection (due to a parent), INNOCENT, imbecile, fool, (cf. (i) according to her nature All's, 4. 3. 184)5 3. 6. 7 (in this case evil); 1. 5. 15 INSULT, exult over as a vicKNAP, rap; 2. 4. 119 torious enemy; 2. 2. 117 KNAVE, (i) boy; 1. 1. 20; 1. 4. INTELLIGENT, giving informa43> 975 3- 2- P> (") menial; tion; 3. 1. 25; 3. 5. 12; 3. 1. 4. 81 (with quibble on 7. 11 (iii)); 1. 4. 945 (iii) scounINTERESSED (to be), to have a drel; 1. 4. 3155 2. 2. 15, 19 legal right to (by betrothal); KNEE (vb.), kneel before; 2.4. 1. 1. 84 210 INTEREST OF, legal claim to possession of; 1. 1. 49 LAG OF, later than; 1.2. 6 INTERLUDE, a little comedy; 5. LARGE, (i) generous; 1. 1. 51} (ii) splendid; 1. 1. 130; 3-9° (iii) lavish; 1. 1. 183 INTRINCE, tightly knotted. Abbreviated form of 'in- LATCH, catch, strike swiftly; 2. 1. 52 trinsicate' [Ant. 5. 2. 303); LET-ALONE, (a) permission; 2. 2. 73 (b) hindrance; 5. 3. 80 INVENTION, plan; 1. 2. 20 INFIRMITY, (i) defect; x. I.
zoi, 290; (ii) sickness; 2.4.
LIKE, please; 1. 1. 199
personal appearance by which one is recognized; 1. 4. 4
JAKES, privy; 2. 2. 64 JARRING, out of tune; 4. 7. 16 JEALOUS, suspiciously watch-
LIKENESS,
ful; 1. 4. 70; 5. 1. 56 term of endearment=» darling, treasure (cf. Oth. 1. 3. 195; Gent. 4. 4. 45); I. 1. 266 JOINED-STOOL, stool fitted together by a joiner (as distinct from one of cruder make); 3. 6. 51 JUDICIOUS, just; 3. 4. 73 JUG, nickname for Joan; 1. 4. 225 JUSTICER, judge; 3. 6. 21; 4. *• 79
LILY-LIVERED,
JEWEL,
white-livered,
cowardly; 2. 2. 15 LIST, (i) please; 5. 3. 62; (ii)
listen to; 5. 3. 180 LISTS, ' catalogue of the soldiers of a force' (On.); 5. 3. n z LIVING, property; 1. 4. 108
accommodation for the night, sleeping quarters; 2. 2. 169 LOOK, (i) seek (cf. A.T.L. 2. 5. 3i)5 3- 3- Hi (») 'look about' (cf. Rom. 3. 5. 40) =be on the watch; 4. 7.92 LODGING,
GLOSSARY LOOPED,
having loop-holes; 3.
289
MERE, absolute, very; 2.4.86; 4. 1. 20
4-3i
give vent to, allow to MERITS, deserts; 5. 3.45 proceed from (O.E.D. 4«)j MESS, dish of food; 1. 1. 116 METAL. A differentiated sp. of 1. 4. 304. 'mettle', 'the two being LOUSE (vb.), become infected used without distinction in with lice; 3. 2. 29 the old edd.' (On.); 1. 1. 68 LtrsT-DiETED=eitheF 'whose desires are fed to the full', MILK-LIVERED, white-livered, cowardly; 4. 2. 50 or, 'whose appetite is ruled solely by his desires'; 4.1. 66 MILKY, weak, effeminate (cf. Tim. 3. 1. 54); 1. 4. 342 LUSTY, (a) lustful, (b) vigorous} MINIKIN, either=shrill 1. 2. 11 (O.E.D. B2); or=pretty LUXURY, lascivionsness; 4. 6. little (O.E.D. B i , 3); 3. 6. 117 LYM, bloodhound; 3. 6. 68 43 MINISTER^ servant, agent; 3.2.
LOOSE,
MAIN, mainland; 3 . 1 . 6
MAINLY, entirely; 4. 7. 65
MAKE (sb.), mate; 4. 3. 35; (vb.), (i) do; 1. 4. 189; (ii) prove; (see O.E.D. v 1 56^); 5. 3. 94. Phrs.: 'make from'=get out of the way of; 1.1.142; 'makegood'= put into effect; 1. 1. 171} 'make mouths=make faces (at), treat with contempt, (cf. Ham. 4. 4. 50); 3. 2. 35-65 'make up'=accept a proposal; 1. 1. 205 MATERIAL, forming the substance of a thing, nourishing it; 4. 2._35 MAUGRE, in spite of; 5. 3.130 MEANING, intention, purpose; 1. 2. 176 MEANS, resources, wealth; 4. 1. 20
MEINY, body of retainers;
2.4.
34 MERCY, (i) 'in mercy'=at his
mercy; 1. 4. 328; (ii) 'cry you mercy'=1 beg pardon of jou; 3. 6. 51
21
come to harm or destruction; 5. 1. 5, 44 MISCHIEF, injury, harm; I. 2. 16653. 7. 8154.2. 55 MISCREANT= either 'infidel' (the orig. meaning) or 'villain'; 1. 1. 160 MISCARRY,
MODEST, (i) moderate; 2. 4.
24; (ii) exact; 4. 7. 5 MOE, more; 1. 5. 36 MOIETY, share; 1. 1. 5 MONSTER (vb.), make monstrous or inhuman; 1.1. 219 MORAL, moralizing, priggish; 4. 2. 58 MORROW, morning; 2. 4. 123 MORTIFIED, deadened, 'pe-
rished', made insensible to pain; 2. 3. 15 MOTHER, lit. womb (see O.E.D. 11)5 hence, hysteria, wh. ace. to the old physiology was therising,swelling upward of the womb or vapours therefrom; 2. 4. 54 MOTION, thrusting movement in fencing; 2. 1. 50
290
GLOSSARY
MOVE, make
angry} i . 4. 275 Mow, grimace; 4. 1. 61 MUTINY, strife; 1. 2. n o
MYSTERIES, secret rites; 1. I. 109 NATURAL, kind; 2. 1. 84 NATURE, (i) the goddess per-
(breeches were then also called 'upper-stocks'); 2. 4. 10
punctiliously; (i) with scrupulous exactness; 2. 2. 1025 (ii) by insisting on the exact observance of the conventions; 5. 3. 143
NICELY,
sonifying the forces that NIGHTMARE, conceived of as a create the phenomena of the goblin or demon incubus; material world; 1.1.211; 1. 3. 4. 121 2. 1; 1.4.2765 2. 2. 525 3. NIGHTED, darkened (by blind2.8; 4.6.134; (ii) thenatural ness); 4. 5. 13 order of things; 1. 2. 1075 NINEFOLD (fcorrupt), 'an at3. 6. 76; 4. 6. 86; (Hi) tendant set of nine* human nature, the human (O.E.D.);3. 4. i2r race; 1.2.108; 4.6.204; (iv) NOISE, rumour (cf. Tim. G.)j character, disposition; 1. 1. 3. 6. n o 170, 2345 1. 2. 1835 1. 5. NONNY-NONNY, 'meaningless 33 (or (v)); 2. 1. 115; 2.2. refrain, formerly often used 74,9654.2. 3255.3.243; to cover indelicate allusions' (v) natural affection between (O.E.D.); 3. 4. 99 relatives—filial affection, 1. NOTICE, recognition; 2.4. 345 I. 52; 2. 4. 1745 3. 5. 4; 3. NOTION, intellectual power; 1. 7. 85; parental affection, 4. 228 I. 2. 114; 1. 4. 269; (vi) NUNCLE, contraction of 'mine bodily constitution, vital uncle'; usual address of functions, natural powers, court jester to his master; 1. natural life; 2. 4. 104, 143, 4. 105 and passim 262, 2655 3. 2. 485 3. 4. 3, NURSERY, nursing, tendance; 69; 3. 6. 965 4. 4. 12; 4. 6. 1. 1. 123 39; 4. 7. 155 (vii) natural impulse, as opposed to the OBJECT, (i) object of love and traditions and customs of favour; 1. 1. 213; (ii) society; 1. 2. n spectacle; 2. 3.17; 5. 3.237 NAUGHT (adj.), wicked; 2. 4. OBSERVANT (sb.), obsequious attendant; 2. 2. 101 130; (sb.), nothing; 4. 6. OCCASION, (i) opportunity for 135 attacking or fault-finding NAUGHTY, wicked (much (On.); 1. 3. 25; (ii) affairj 2. stronger than the mod. I. 120 sense); 3.4. 1105 3.7.37 Oeillade, amorous glance (cf. NEAT, dandified; 2. 2. 40 Wiv. 1. 3. 59); 4. 5. 25 NECESSITY, poverty, destitution; 2. 4. 207; 3. 2. 70 OFFEND, (i) injure; 1. 1. 302$ NETHER-STOCKS, stockings (ii) do amiss; 1. 2.42
GLOSSARY OFFICE, duty; 2. 1. 106; 2. 4.
102,174; 3.1.4255.3.247 OLD, normal; 3. 7. 100 ON, against; 5. 3. 101, 164, 245; cf. 'upon', 4. 6. 269 OPPOSITE, opponent; 5. 3. 4 3 ,
152 ORDINANCE, 'arrangement in...
proper relative position' (O.E.D. 2), hence=rank (cf. Cor. 3. 2. 12), social hierarchy; 4. 1. 67 OUTFACE, brave, defy; 2. 3. 11 OUTJEST, dispel by. means of jesting; 3. I. 16 OUT-PARAMOUR, have more mistresses than; 3. 4. 90—1 OUT-WALL, exterior; 3. 1. 45 OVER-LUSTY, too vigorous; 2.
4. 9-10 OVERTURE, disclosure; 3. 7. 88 O'ERWATCHED, see •watch^ 2 . 2 .
167 OWE, possess; 1. 1. 2 0 1 ; 1. 4 . 121
PACE (sb.), app. a blending of pack=bvmdle (fig.) and pack =plot, conspiracy (
PAIN, trouble, effort; 1.4.2875 3- *• S3 PART (vb.), depart; 1.2. 235 4 . 3. 22 PART (sb.), personal, quality; 1. 4. 265 PARTICULAR, personal, private; i- 4- 3395 5- i- 3°5 ' f o r h i s particular'=as for himself; 2. 4. 288 PARTY, (i) side (in a conflict); 2 . 1 . 2 7 ; 4. S.4°5 4-6.2475 (ii) ally; 3. 5, 12
291
PASS UPON, pass judgement
against; 3. 7. 24 PATIENCE, PATIENT, self-con-
trol, ready to endure; 1. 4. 262; 2. 4. 134; 3. 6. 57; 4- 3- 17 PAWN (sb.), pledge; 1. 1. 154 PAWN (vb.), 'pawn down'=» pledge; 1. 2. 88 PEASCOD, pea-pod; 1. 4. 200 PELL-MELL, promiscuously, at
random. The image is that of a scuffle of many persons in the press of battle; 4. 6. 117 PELTING, paltry; 2. 3. i s
PENDULOUS, hanging overhead; 3. 4. 66 PERDU, lost one, castaway
(a)
termination,
climax, (£) full stop; 4 . 7. 975 5 - 3 - 2 O 3 PEW, seat; 3. 4. 54 PHYSIC, medical treatment; 3. 4- 33 PIECE (sb,), masterpiece; 4. 0. 134 PIECE (vb.), eke out; 1.1.1985 ('piece out'); 3. 6. 2 PIGHT, resolved; 2. I. 65
PILLICOCK, (a) term of endearment for young boy, (b) penis (see O.E.D.). 'Pillicock Hill', perh.=the mons Veneris (cf. V.A. 232); 3.
4-75
GLOSSARY
292
pound, pen in which stray animals are placed; 2.
PINFOLD,
2. 8 PITY,
take pity on, relieve; 3.
3-a (i) rank, station; 1. 1. 170; 2. 4. 11; 5. 3. 653 (ii) residence; 2. 4. 245 PLACKET, opening in petticoat or skirt; 3. 4. 96
PLACE,
PLAIN, complain; 3. 1. 39 PLATE, clothe in plate armour;
4. 6. 164 pleasure-giving; 53.169 PLIGHT (sb.), pledge (of betrothal); 1. i. 100 PLIGHT (vb.), (i) plait, fold; 1. 1. 2785 (ii) pledge, take an oath; 3. 4. 123 PLUCK, draw, pull; 4. 2. 78, PLEASANT,
85; 5- 3- 5° POINT, (i) (a) purpose, aim (see
O.E.D. 28a), (b) 4. 7. 96; (ii) 'at point'=in readiness; 1. 4. 325; 3. 1. 33 POLICY, (a) established custom; (b) crafty device; 1.2.47 POLITICIAN, trickster, crafty schemer; 4. 6. 170 PONDEROUS, weighty, serious; 1. 1. 77 POORLY, defectively; 'poorly eyed'=with defective sight; 4.-I. 10 PORRIDGE, broth. 'The mod. sense is post-Sh. '(On.); 3.
4.54
endurable; 3.6.107 POST (sb,), courier (on horseback); 2. 4. 295 3. 7. ii} 4. 6.271 POST (vb.), ride (speedily); 3.7.154.5.8 POTENTIAL, powerful; 2.1.70
PORTABLE,
army, military force; 3. 1.303 3.3. 1354.2. 165 4. 3. 495 4. 4. 21; 4. 5. 1; 4- 7- 935 5- i- Si» 5- 3- H PRACTICE, (i) plot; 1. 2. 185; 2. 1. 73, 1075 (ii) trickery; 2.4. i n ; 5. 3. 150 PRACTISE ON, plot against; 3. 2-57 POWER,
PREFER, recommend for ap-
pointment; 1. 1. 272 (i) compelling; 2. 1. 765 (ii) inclined; 4. 6. 221
PREGNANT,
PRESCRIBED, limited; 1. 2. 24 PRESENT (adj.), immediately
available, to be paid on the spot; 1. 1. 191 PRESENTED, assumed, boldly displayed; 2. 3. n PRESENTLY, immediately; 1. 2.
103; 1. 4. 146; 2. 4. 33, " 3 5 5- i- 33 PRESS-MONEY, initial payment given to a man on his being 'pressed' into military service; 4. 6. 87 PRETENCE, intention; 1.2.90; 1. 4. 71 PRETTY, (i) epithet of endearment used in speaking to child or youth; 1. 4. 97; (ii) 'pretty fellow'=fine fellow; 1. 4. 191; (iii) apt, neat; 1. 5. 36 PREVENT, forestall 3. 4. 159}
3- 7- 82 PREY, preying, rapaciousness; 3- 4-93 PRICE, (a) monetary value (in terms of dowry), (b) estimation (in the speaker's judgement); 1. 1. 196 PRICK, prickle, thorn; 2. 3. 16 PRIZE (sb.), importance; 2. 1. 120
GLOSSARY PRIZE (vb.), estimate} 1. 1.
69
293
QUIT, (i) acquit; 2. 1. 3 1 ; (ii)
avenge; 3. 7. 86
PROCLAIMED, publicly declared
an outlaw; 2. 3. 15 4. 6. 224. PRODUCE, bring forth to view, exhibit (orig. sense
RAGE, (i) furious passion; 1. 2 .
PROOF, example; 2. 3. 13 PROPER, (i) (a) handsome, (i)
RANK, (i) gross, excessive; 1.
170; 2. 4. 2925 3. i . 8; 4. 6. 6 3 ; (ii) violent outburst of emotion; 4. 3. 17; (iii) madness; 4. 4. 19; 4. 7. 78 RAISE, rouse up; 2. 4. 42
RAKE UP, cover up with earth or sand; 4. 6. 271 4. 2045 (ii) coarsely luxuri-
correct; 1. 1. 17; (ii) beant; 4. 4. 3 longing to oneself; 4. 2. 60 RASH, tear violently, hack at PROPERTY, identity; 1. 1. 113
(cf. F.%. rv. ii. 17); 3. 7.
near relationship; 1. 1. 113 PROVOKE, (i) incite; 3. 5. 8; (ii) cause, induce; 4. 4. 13 PUBLISH, declare publicly; 1.1. 42; 4. 6. 230
RAVISH, tear from; 3/7. 38 RAZE, erase5.1. 4. 4 REASON (sb.), argument; 1. 4 .
PUDDER, turmoil; "3. 2. 50 PUISSANT, powerful; 5. 3. 215
108; (ii) argue about; 2. 4 . 260; 5. 1. 28
PUT, (i) 'put on'=encourage; 1. 4. 208; incite to; 2. 1. 995 (") *Put up'=put away into one's pocket; 1. 2. 28
RECREANT, traitor; 1. 1. 165 REEKING, steaming with
PROPINQUITY,
QUALITY, (i)
character, nature; 1. 2. 12, 345 2. 4. 89, 92, 1335 (ii) rank; 5. 3. n o , 119 QUARREL, cause (of struggle); 3- 7- 76) 5. 3- 57 ^ QUEASY, delicate, difficult; 2. 1. 18 QUESTION, (i)
discussion; 1. 3. 145 5- 3* 345 («") matter, subject; 2. 1. 18; 5. 1. 31; 5. 3. 595 (iii) speech, remark; 4. 3. 35
QUESTRIST, searcher; 3. 7. 17 QUICKEN,
3- 7- 39
come to life again;
339
REASON (vb.), (i) explain; 1. 2.
sweat; 2. 4. 29 REGARD, (i) consideration; 1.
1. 238; (ii) detail; 1. 4 . 266 RELISH (vb.), appreciate the
flavour of, (hence) pleasure in, 1..2. 49
take
REMEMBER, (i) remind; I . 4 .
68; (ii) 'thyself remember' •=call your past sins to mind (in repentance at point of death); 4. 6. 227 REMORSE, pity; 4. 2. 73 REMOTION, keeping aloof; 2 . 4 .
no REMOVE, departure; 2. 4. 4. RENEGE, deny; 2. 2. 76 REPEAL, recall into favour; 3.
6. 112
GLOSSARY
294
placing in or attributing to (trust, etc.; cf. R. II, 2. 4. 6); 2. 1. 68
REPOSAL,
RESERVATION, (i) retention for
oneself; 1. 1. 132; (ii) reserved right; 2. 4. 248 RESERVE, retain under one's own control, or for one's own use; 1. 1. 1485 3. 4. 64 RESOLUTION, freedom from doubt; 1. 2. 102 RESOLVE, inform; 2. 4. 24 REST, 'set my rest on'=commit myself finally to (<'set up one's rest' =venture one's final stake in card game of primero), with quibble on 'establish my permanent abode' (cf. Rom. 5. 3. n o ) ; 1. 1.
122
RETENTION, imprisonment; 5.
3-48
RETREAT, trumpet call ordering
retreat; 5. 2. 4 S.D. RIVE, split open; 3. 2. 58 ROGUE, legal term=vagabond; 4- 7- 39 ROGUISH (see rogue); 3. 7. 103 ROUND, plain-spoken; 1. 4. 55
RUB, impede (fig. from the game of bowls); 2. 2. 151 RUFFLE, (i) bluster; 2. 4. 297;
(ii) 'take or snatch rudely* (O.E.D.); 3. 7. 4 I SA, SA (Fr. ca, ca!) Hunting cry to urge on dogs; hence= a challenge, 'come onl' [K.]; 4. 6. 201 SAFE, (i) sure; 1. 4. 2065 (ii) sound; 'the safer sense'= sanity; 4. 6. 81 SALLET, salad; 3. 4. 132 SAMPHIRE (Fr. herbe de Saint Pierre), aromatic plant that
grows on sea-side cliffs; pickled in vinegar, used as a • relish; gathered by men lowered and suspended by a rope; 4. 6. 15 SAPIENT, wise; 3. 6. 22 SAUCY, 'insolent towards superiors' (O.E.D. 2)5 2. 2. 95 SAVOUR (sb.), character; 1. 4. 237; (vb.), relish; 4. 2. 39 SAW, proverb; 2. 2. 157 SAY, flavour; 5. 3. 142 SCANT (vb.), (i) withhold; 1.1. 2765 2. 4. 136; 3. 2. 675 (ii) reduce; 2. 4. 171 SCATTERED, disunited; 3. 1. 31 SECOND, supporter; 4. 6. 193 SECRET, remedy or prescription, known to doctors only; 4. 4. 15 SECT, party, faction; 5. 3. 18 SECTARY ASTRONOMICAL, stu-
dent of astrology; 1. 2. 153-4 SECURE, make careless or overconfident; 4. 1. 20 SEIZE UPON (or ON), take legal possession of (a wife or a vassal); 1. 1. 251; 2. 1. 116 SELF, same; 1. 1. 68; 4. 3. 35
SENNET, fanfare of trumpets; 1. 1. 32 S.D. SEQUENT, resultant; 1. 2. 109 SERVICEABLE,
(obsequiously)
diligent in service (to an evil superior); 4. 6. 249 (cf. super-serviceable) SESSA! Unexplained but prob. variant of 'sa, sa' (q.v.); 3. 4. 100; 3. 6. 73 SET (vb.), stake; 1. 4. 121 SETTLING, calming down; 4. 7. 82 SHIVER, be shattered into small pieces; 4. 6. 51
GLOSSARY SHORTEN, 'render ineffectual'
(O.E.D. 3*); 4. 7. 9 SHOW (vb.), appear; 1. 4. 244,
268; 4. 2. 60; 4. 6. 14 SHOW (sb.), appearance; 3. 6.
104 SHRILL-GORGED,
producing
295
SMUG, trim; here, decked out for a wedding; 4. 6. 197 SNOW (fig.), chastity; 4. 6. 119 SNUFF, (i) huff, resentment; 3.
I. 265 (ii) candle-end (see O.E.D. 1, c i t Holinshed); 4. 6, 39
shrill notes from its throat; 4. 6. 58 SIDE, lit. party, side in a game; hence, game; 5. 1. 61
SOILED,
SILLY-DUCKING, bowing fool-
SOMETHING, somewhat; 1. 1.
ishly and ridiculously; 2. 2. 101
SIMPLE (sb.), medicinal herb; 4. 4. 14 SIMPLE
(adj.),
humble
(in
rank), or weak (in intellect); 4. 6. 151 SIMULAR
or,
pretender
to.
O.E.D. cites Tyndate, ProL Romans, 1526, 'Christ calleth them [the Pharisees] ypocrites, that is to saye simulars'j 3. 2. 54 SINEW, nerve (cf. Fen. 903); 3.
6.97 SINGLE, unaided; 5. 3. 104 SITH, since; I. 1. 179; 2. 4.
235
fed
with
fresh-cut
green fodder (
to 'eggs in moonshine', the name for a dish of poached eggs (see O.E.D. 'moonshine' 3)5 2. 2. 30 SOPHISTICATED,
adulterated,
corrupted; 3. 4. 106 SOT, fool; 4. 2. 8 SOVEREIGN, overpowering; 4.
3-43 SPACE, (i) room to move in; 1.
1. 55; (ii) extent; 1. 1. 80; 4. 6. 268; (Hi) time; 5. 3. 54 SPECULATION, scout, spy (ab-
stract for concrete); 3. I. 24 SPEED,
succeed;
1.
2.
19;
SIZES, allowances; 2. 4. 171 SKILL, mental ability; 4. 7. 66
'speed you'=may God give you success; 4. 6. 206
SLACK (adj.), 'come slack of «=fall short of; 1. 3. 10
SPHERICAL, pertaining to the
SLACK (vb.), be neglectful of;
spheres or heavenly bodies;
1. 2. 126
2. 4. 241 SLAVE (vb.), do just what one likes with; 4. r. 6j
SPLEEN, malice; 1. 4. 283
SLIP-SHOD, in slippers (instead
SQUINY,
of shoes, because of sore heels); 1. 5. 12 SLIVER, tear away; 4. 2. 34 SMILET, little smile; 4. 3. 20 SMOOTH, encourage by flattery;
a. 2. 73
SPILL, destroy; 3. 2. 8 SPIRIT,
life, essence; 1. I. 73
squint, or peer with half-closed eyes; 4. 6. 136
STAND, be, act (cf. 2 H. IF, 3.
2. 230, 'stand my friend'); 2. 1. 40; 'stand on'=be of importance (concern) to; 5. 1. 69
296
GLOSSARY
STAR-BLASTING, blighting by
an adverse star (astrol.) 53.4. 58 START (sb.), capricious impulse; 1. 1. 297 START (vb.), move abruptly; 4- 3- 3 2 STATE, (i) situation; 2. 2. 166; (ii) condition of mind; 2. 4. 145; (iii) government, rule; I. 1.49; 5. 1. 22; (iv) kingdom; 1. 1. 1485 1. 2. 149; 3. 1. 25 (with quibble on (i)); 4. 2. 57; 4. 3. 3; 5. 3. 320; (v) kingly power; 2. 4. 108; (vi) position in the world of men; 5. 1. 68 STELL:ED, not 'fixed' (as in Lucr. 1444, Son. 24. 1), but 'starry' (cf. Lat. 'stella', and O.E.D. citing 'stelled'= 'garnished with stars'); 3. 7. 60 STIFF, stubbornly unyielding; 4. 6. 276 STILL, always, continuously; 1. 1. 157; 1. 4. 330, 331; 2.4.985 3.4. 176,18354. 1. 2, 4, 65 STILL-SOLICITING, continually begging; 1. 1. 230 STOMACH, anger; 5. 3. 75 STONE='specular stone...a transparent substance formerly used as glass' (O.E.D. 'specular' I. 1, ib; cf. 'stone', 2); 5. 3. 262 STRAIGHT, (i) immediately; 1. 3. 26; 2. 4. 34;. 3. 6. 2o; 5.3.287; (ii) plainly; 5.3.279 STRAIN, quality; or poss., lineage; 5. 3. 41 STRAINED, excessive; 1. 1. 168 STRETCH, strain to the utmost; 2. 2. 102
STRIKE,
blast; 2. 4. 159; 4. 6.
273 (of life), heart-strings (cf. R. Ill, 4. 4. 366;
STRINGS
K.J. 5. 7. 52-5); 5. 3. 215 (a) 'special department of scientific research' (K..), (b) earnest endeavour; 3. 4. I58
STUDY,
SUB-CONTRACTED, betrothed to
one man while still married tp another; 5. 3. 87 SUBSCRIPTION, submission; 3. 2. 18 SUBSTANCE, (i) (a) reality—as distinct from 'shadow' (cf. Tit. 3. 2. 80), (b) creature, being (cf. Macb. 1. 5. 48); 1.1. 197; (ii) bodily weight; 4. 6. 52 SUCCEED, follow; I. 2. 147 SUCCESS, outcome; 5. 3. 193
SUFFER, endure, permit; 1. 2. 52; 4. 2. 44 SUFFERANCE, suffering; 3. 0. 105 SUIT (sb.), entreaty; 'at suit of his grey beard'=taking pity on his obvious old age; 2. 2. 61 SUITED, clothed; 4. 7. 6 SUMMONER, officer who
summoned offenders to appear for trial in ecclesiastical courts; 3. 2. 59 SUMPTER (fig.), drudge (lit. beast of burden); 2. 4. 212 SUPERFLUOUS, pampered, pos-
sessing more than is necessary to sustain life; 2. 4. 261; 4. 1. 66 SUPERFLUX, that which one does not oneself strictly require; 3. 4. 35
GLOSSARY SUPER-SERVICEABLE, 'doing or
offering service beyond what is desired, officious' (O.E.D.); 2. 2. 16-17 SUPPORT, (i) uphold; 1. 4. 266;
(ii) endure; 5. 3. 196 SURFEIT, diseased condition arising from self-indulgencej
delicate "haft" or bodily frame; hence, womanly, gentle' (O.E.D.), easy to handle; 2. 4. 167 THIN, (a) mod. sense, (£) bald, (c) bare; 4. 7. 36 THING, penis (cf. O.E.D. •thing", II. e)', 1.5.51 THOUGHT-EXECUTING,
I. 2. 122
297
acting
(fkilling), as quick as SUSTAINING, supporting lifej thought; 3. 2. 4 4. 4. 6 THREE-SUITED, allowed three SWAY (sb.), government, direcsuits of clothes ayear; 2.2.14 tion; 1. 1. 135; 2. 4. 186; 4. 7. 20 THRILL, pierce, move emotionally; 4. 2. 73 SWAY (vb.), govern; 1. 2. 51 SWEAR, invoke; 1. 1. 160
THRUSTING ON, compulsion; 1,
TAINT, decay; 1. 1. 220
THWART, perverse; 1. 4. 284
TAKE UPON (ONE), pretend (to
TIME (the), the world; 4. 1. 46 TITHING, rural district (orig. ten housecontaining holders); 3. 4. 134 TOAD-SPOTTED, marked with spots, like a toad: 'spotted' has the sense of 'stained, polluted', and the toad is proverbially venomous; hence the word=marked with infamy as the toad is with spots; 5. 3. 137 TOGETHER, without intermission; 1. 2. 158
2. 129 know); 5. 3. 16 TAKEN, overtaken by harm; 1. 4-331
TAKING, (i) capture; 2. 3. 55
(ii) blasting, bewitching; 2. 4. 160; 3. 4. 58; (iii) acceptance; 4. 6. 29; (iv) 'taking off'=murder; 5. 1. 65 TAME, 'humbly submissive' (K.); 4- 6. 219 TART (fig.), disagreeable; 4. 2. 87 TASTE, test; 1. 2. 46
TEEM, bear children; 1. 4. 282 TELL, count; 2.4. 53; 3. 2. 91
TEMPER (sb.), mental balance; 1. 5. 46 TEMPER (vb:), moisten (clay, etc.) so as to soften it for use j •1. 4. 305 TEMPERANCE, self-control; 4.
TOM 0' BEDLAM (see Bedlavi)\
1. 2. 138-9 TOP (sb.), head; 2. 4. 159 TOP (vb.), rise above, surpass; I. 2. 21J 5. 3. 206 TOUCH, (i) imbue; 2. 4. 272; 5.
3. 231; (ii) concern; 5.1.25 TOWARD, impending; 2. 1. 10;
3. 3. 19; 4. 6. 207
7.24 TEND UPON, serve; 2. 1. 95"
TRADE, job or business (of any
TENDER or, solicitude for; 1.
kind); 4. 1. 38 TRANSPORT, carry away in a passion; 1. 4. 222
4. 211 TENDER-HEFTED,
'set
In
a
GLOSSARY
298
TREACHER, traitor; 1. 2. 126
71-25 2. 4. I 3 1 ; 3. 2. 165
TRICK, characteristic quality; 4. 6. 106
4-3-43
TRILL, trickle; 4. 3. 13 TROOP WITH, accompany; 1. I,
131 TROTH, faith; 'troth plight'= pledge one's word; 3. 4. 123 TRUNDLE-TAIL, dog with a
long curly tail, a low-bred type; 3. 6. 69 TUCKET, sound of trumpet on a march; 2. 1. 78 S.D. TUNE, mood, temper (fig. <music); 4. 3. 40 TURN, (i) become disordered; 3. 2. 67; (ii) become giddy; 4. 6. 23
UNNATURAL, (i) contrary to
the laws of nature; 3. r. 38; (ii) —specifically—unfilial; 2. 1. 50; 2. 4. 274; 3. 3, 1-2,7 UNNATURALNESS, lack of the
affection that should exist among blood-relations; 1. 2. 147 UNPOSSESSING, incapable of in«
heriting his father's possessions; 2. 1. 67 UNPROVIDED, unarmed; 2. I .
UNSTATE (oneself) surrender rank and fortune; 1. 2. 101
TWENTY, indefinite for any
UNTENTED, untentable, lit. too
large number; 2. 2. 101; 2. 4. 68
deep for any probe to cleanse, hence, incurable; 1. 4. 301
UNACCOMMODATED,
without
URSA MAJOR, the Great Bear
the accessories of civilization (here, clothing); 3. 4. 106 UNBOLTED, lit. unsifted, hence unmitigated; 2. 2. 63-4
(constellation); 1. 2. 133 USE, (i) treat; 1. 3. 20; 2. 2. 10; 4. 6. 190; 5. 3. 44; (ii) be in the habit of doing; 1. 4. 172 USURP, occupy or retain by ( )
UNCONSTANT, sudden and er-
ratic; 1. 1. 297 UNDERSTANDING
(IN), from
knowledge; 4. 5. 28 UNDERTAKE, enter upon, or commit oneself to, an enterprise (O.E.D. 8); 4. 2. 13 UNGRACious,graceless,wickedj 4. 6. 273 UNHAPPILY, unfortunately; 1.
2. 147 UNKIND, lacking in natural family affection; 1. 1. 2595
3- 4- 7°
VARLET, (a) menial, (b) rascal; 2. 2. 27; 2. 4. 183 VAUNT-COURIERS, messengers
sent in advance; 3. 2. 5 VERY, (i) exact; 1. 3. 27; (ii)
UNHAPPY, unlucky; 4. 6. 226
UNKINDNESS,
VAIN, silly; 4. 2. 61 VALIDITY, value; 1. 1. 80
absence
of
natural affection between parents and children; 1. 4.
real; 1. 4. 71 VEX, disturb; 3. 4. 605 4. 4. 2; 5- 3- 313 VILE, (i) of no value (by normal standards); 3. 2. 7 1 ; (ii) loathsome; 3. 4. 145; 3. 7. 82; 4. 2. 38, 475 4. 6. 276
GLOSSARY (i) serf; 3. 7. jy (?embracing (ii)); 4. 6. 244} (ii) mod. sense; 3. 7. 86 VIRTUE, power, efficacy; 4. 4. 16 VOR' (dial.), warrant; 4. 6.238 VULGAR, commonly known and spoken of; 4. 6. 208
VILLAIN,
299
WEAL, commonwealth, state; 1.4.
211
WEAR OUT, outlive (cf. O.E.D. 'wear' 9); 5. 3. 17 WEB, 'the web and the piq'= cataract of the eye; 3. 4. 116-17 WEEDS, clothes; 4. 7.7. WEIGHT, grief; 5. 3. 323 WELL-FAVOURED, pleasing in
WAGE, (i) stake in wager (so) appearance; 2. 4. 252 risk; 1. 1. 1555 (H) contend; WHAT, (i) whatever; 3. 6.113; 2. 4. 205 (ii) who; 4. 6. 48, 2185 5. 3. WAGTAIL (fig.), (a) obsequious 118, 124, 163; (iii) whoperson continually bowing ever; 5. 3. 98 to superiors (On.), (b) profligate man or woman (see WHELKED, twisted and conO.E.D. 3, 36); 2. 2. 65 voluted like a whelk, i.e. a spiral shelled-mollusc; 4. 6. WAKE, parish festival observed with, village sports, etc.; 3. 6 WHERE, (i) whereas; 1. 2. 84; -73 (ii) to whom; 3. 7. 9; (iii) WALK, withdraw (cf. Wint. I. wherever; 4. 5. 10 2. 172; Oth, 4. 3. 4; Cym. WHISTLING (vbl. sb.) fig. 1. 1. 176)5 4. 7. 83 < ' whistle'=(a) entice, alWALL-NEWT, ?=lizard; 3. 4. lure (see O.E.D. 7), (b) wait 130 for (O.E.D. 9); 4. 2. 29 WANTON (sb.), skittish refractory creature; 2. 4. 1205 WHITE, almost ready for harvesting (cf. St John iv. 35)} (adj.), playfully unrestrained; 3.4. 118 4. 1. 36 WARPED, twisted; 3. 6. 52 WATCH, (i) keep awake;
2. 2. 1525 'o'erwatched'=having been too long without sleep; 2. 2. 1675 (ii) keep awake on the look-out; 2. 1. 21; 4. 7.
WIDE (SC. of the mark), fig.
astray; 4. 7. 50 extensive; 1. 1. 64
WIDE-SKIRTED,
WIELD, express; 1. 1. 54
WILD, desert, uncultivated, unfruitful; 3. 4. 112 WILL, desire,' lust; 4. 6. WAT'RISH, (a) well-watered, 268 (b) weak, thin (cf. Oth. 3. 3. 15 'waterish diet')—poss. WINDOWED, full of windowlike holes; 3. 4. 31 alluding to its narrow shape; WISDOM, sanity (cf. O.E.D. 1. 1.257 4, Meas, 4. 4. 4)5 1. 4. WAWL (vb.), 'utter the loud harsh cry characteristic of 93 cats or of new-born babies' WISE, (a) mod. sense, (b) sane} (O.E.D.); 4. 6. 179 1.5.44
300
GLOSSARY
WITS, 'five wits'=usually, the five senses, but often (as prob. here) the mental faculties; 3. 4. 575 3. 6. 56 WITHAL, therewith; 1. 2. 105 WORD, (i) watchword, motto (or(ii)); 3.4. 1835 (ii) password; 4. 6. 92 WORSHIP, honour; 1. 4. 267
WORTHY (vb.), makea' worthy', i.e. hero, of; 2. 2. 119 WORTHY (adj.), noble; 5. 3. 177 WRITE, write oneself down as, consider oneself to be; 5 3.
WORTH, wealth (cf. Rom. 2. 6.
ZWAGGERED,
32); 4. 4. 10
36 YIELD, consent; 4. 6. 44
dial, for swaggered=bullied; 4. 6. 236