• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

Edg. Let's exchange charity.

I am no less in blood than thou art, Edmund;

If more, the more th' hast wrong'd me.

My name is Edgar and thy father's son.

The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices

Make instruments to scourge us.

The dark and vicious place where thee he got

Cost him his eyes.

Edm. Th' hast spoken right; 'tis true.

The wheel is come full circle; I am here.

Alb. Methought thy very gait did prophesy

A royal nobleness. I must embrace thee.

Let sorrow split my heart if ever I

Did hate thee, or thy father!

Edg. Worthy prince, I know't.

Alb. Where have you hid yourself?

How have you known the miseries of your father?

Edg. By nursing them, my lord. List a brief tale;

And when 'tis told, O that my heart would burst!

The bloody proclamation to escape

That follow'd me so near (O, our lives' sweetness!

That with the pain of death would hourly die

Rather than die at once!) taught me to shift

Into a madman's rags, t' assume a semblance

That very dogs disdain'd; and in this habit

Met I my father with his bleeding rings,

Their precious stones new lost; became his guide,

Led him, begg'd for him, sav'd him from despair;

Never (O fault!) reveal'd myself unto him

Until some half hour past, when I was arm'd,

Not sure, though hoping of this good success,

I ask'd his blessing, and from first to last

Told him my pilgrimage. But his flaw'd heart

(Alack, too weak the conflict to support!)

'Twixt two extremes of passion, joy and grief,

Burst smilingly.

Edm. This speech of yours hath mov'd me,

And shall perchance do good; but speak you on;

You look as you had something more to say.

Alb. If there be more, more woful, hold it in;

For I am almost ready to dissolve,

Hearing of this.

Edg. This would have seem'd a period

To such as love not sorrow; but another,

To amplify too much, would make much more,

And top extremity.

Whilst I was big in clamour, came there a man,

Who, having seen me in my worst estate,

Shunn'd my abhorr'd society; but then, finding

Who 'twas that so endur'd, with his strong arms

He fastened on my neck, and bellowed out

As he'd burst heaven; threw him on my father;

Told the most piteous tale of Lear and him

That ever ear receiv'd; which in recounting

His grief grew puissant, and the strings of life

Began to crack. Twice then the trumpets sounded,

And there I left him tranc'd.

Alb. But who was this?

Edg. Kent, sir, the banish'd Kent; who in disguise

Followed his enemy king and did him service

Improper for a slave.

Enter a Gentleman with a bloody knife.

Gent. Help, help! O, help!

Edg. What kind of help?

Alb. Speak, man.

Edg. What means that bloody knife?

Gent. 'Tis hot, it smokes.

It came even from the heart of- O! she's dead!

Alb. Who dead? Speak, man.

Gent. Your lady, sir, your lady! and her sister

By her is poisoned; she hath confess'd it.

Edm. I was contracted to them both. All three

Now marry in an instant.

Enter Kent.

Edg. Here comes Kent.

Alb. Produce their bodies, be they alive or dead.

[Exit Gentleman.]

This judgement of the heavens, that makes us tremble

Touches us not with pity. O, is this he?

The time will not allow the compliment

That very manners urges.

Kent. I am come

To bid my king and master aye good night.

Is he not here?

Alb. Great thing of us forgot!

Speak, Edmund, where's the King? and where's Cordelia?

The bodies of Goneril and Regan are brought in.

Seest thou this object, Kent?

Kent. Alack, why thus?

Edm. Yet Edmund was belov'd.

The one the other poisoned for my sake,

And after slew herself.

Alb. Even so. Cover their faces.

Edm. I pant for life. Some good I mean to do,

Despite of mine own nature. Quickly send

(Be brief in't) to the castle; for my writ

Is on the life of Lear and on Cordelia.

Nay, send in time.

Alb. Run, run, O, run!

Edg. To who, my lord? Who has the office? Send

Thy token of reprieve.

Edm. Well thought on. Take my sword;

Give it the Captain.

Alb. Haste thee for thy life. [Exit Edgar.]

Edm. He hath commission from