Exasperates, makes mad her sister Goneril;
And hardly shall I carry out my side,
Her husband being alive. Now then we’ll use
His countenance for the battle; which being done,
Let her who would be rid of him devise
His speedy taking off. As for the mercy
Which he intends to Lear and to Cordelia,
The battle done, and they within our power,
Shall never see his pardon; for my state
Stands on me to defend, not to debate. Exit.
Scene II
A field between the two camps.
Alarum within. Enter, with drum and colours, King Lear, Cordelia, and Soldiers, over the stage; and exeunt. | |
Enter Edgar and Gloucester. | |
Edgar |
Here, father, take the shadow of this tree |
Gloucester | Grace go with you, sir! Exit Edgar. |
Alarum and retreat within. Re-enter Edgar. | |
Edgar |
Away, old man; give me thy hand; away! |
Gloucester | No farther, sir; a man may rot even here. |
Edgar |
What, in ill thoughts again? Men must endure |
Gloucester | And that’s true too. Exeunt. |
Scene III
The British camp near Dover.
Enter, in conquest, with drum and colours, Edmund, King Lear and Cordelia, prisoners; Captain, Soldiers, etc. | |
Edmund |
Some officers take them away: good guard, |
Cordelia |
We are not the first |
King Lear |
No, no, no, no! Come, let’s away to prison: |
Edmund | Take them away. |
King Lear |
Upon such sacrifices, my Cordelia, |
Edmund |
Come hither, captain; hark. |
Captain | I’ll do ’t, my lord. |
Edmund |
About it; and write happy when thou hast done. |
Captain |
I cannot draw a cart, nor eat dried oats; |
Flourish. Enter Albany, Goneril, Regan, another Captain, and Soldiers. | |
Albany |
Sir, you have shown to-day your valiant strain, |
Edmund |
Sir, I thought it fit |
Albany |
Sir, by your patience, |
Regan |
That’s as we list to grace him. |
Goneril |
Not so hot: |
Regan |
In my rights, |
Goneril | That were the most, if he should husband you. |
Regan | Jesters do oft prove prophets. |
Goneril |
Holla, holla! |
Regan |
Lady, I am not well; else I should answer |
Goneril | Mean you to enjoy him? |
Albany | The let-alone lies not in your good will. |
Edmund | Nor in thine, lord. |
Albany | Half-blooded fellow, yes. |
Regan | To Edmund. Let the drum strike, and prove my title thine. |
Albany |
Stay yet; hear reason. Edmund, I arrest thee |
Goneril | An interlude! |
Albany |
Thou art arm’d, Gloucester: let the trumpet sound: |