LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

may not pass upon his life

       Without the form of justice, yet our power

       Shall do a courtesy to our wrath, which men

       May blame, but not control.—Who’s there? the traitor?

       [Re-enter servants, with Gloster.]

       Reg.

       Ingrateful fox! ‘tis he.

       Corn.

       Bind fast his corky arms.

       Glou.

       What mean your graces?—Good my friends, consider

       You are my guests: do me no foul play, friends.

       Corn.

       Bind him, I say.

       [Servants bind him.]

       Reg.

       Hard, hard.—O filthy traitor!

       Glou.

       Unmerciful lady as you are, I’m none.

       Corn.

       To this chair bind him.—Villain, thou shalt find,—

       [Regan plucks his beard.]

       Glou.

       By the kind gods, ‘tis most ignobly done

       To pluck me by the beard.

       Reg.

       So white, and such a traitor!

       Glou.

       Naughty lady,

       These hairs which thou dost ravish from my chin

       Will quicken, and accuse thee: I am your host:

       With robber’s hands my hospitable favours

       You should not ruffle thus. What will you do?

       Corn.

       Come, sir, what letters had you late from France?

       Reg.

       Be simple-answer’d, for we know the truth.

       Corn.

       And what confederacy have you with the traitors

       Late footed in the kingdom?

       Reg.

       To whose hands have you sent the lunatic king?

       Speak.

       Glou.

       I have a letter guessingly set down,

       Which came from one that’s of a neutral heart,

       And not from one oppos’d.

       Corn.

       Cunning.

       Reg.

       And false.

       Corn.

       Where hast thou sent the king?

       Glou.

       To Dover.

       Reg.

       Wherefore to Dover? Wast thou not charg’d at peril,—

       Corn.

       Wherefore to Dover? Let him first answer that.

       Glou.

       I am tied to the stake, and I must stand the course.

       Reg.

       Wherefore to Dover, sir?

       Glou.

       Because I would not see thy cruel nails

       Pluck out his poor old eyes; nor thy fierce sister

       In his anointed flesh stick boarish fangs.

       The sea, with such a storm as his bare head

       In hell-black night endur’d, would have buoy’d up,

       And quench’d the stelled fires; yet, poor old heart,

       He holp the heavens to rain.

       If wolves had at thy gate howl’d that stern time,

       Thou shouldst have said, ‘Good porter, turn the key.’

       All cruels else subscrib’d:—but I shall see

       The winged vengeance overtake such children.

       Corn.

       See’t shalt thou never.—Fellows, hold the chair.

       Upon these eyes of thine I’ll set my foot.

       [Gloster is held down in his chair, while Cornwall plucks out one of his eyes and sets his foot on it.]

       Glou.

       He that will think to live till he be old,

       Give me some help!—O cruel!—O ye gods!

       Reg.

       One side will mock another; the other too!

       Corn.

       If you see vengeance,—

       First Serv.

       Hold your hand, my lord:

       I have serv’d you ever since I was a child;

       But better service have I never done you

       Than now to bid you hold.

       Reg.

       How now, you dog!

       First Serv.

       If you did wear a beard upon your chin,

       I’d shake it on this quarrel. What do you mean?

       Corn.

       My villain!

       [Draws, and runs at him.]

       First Serv.

       Nay, then, come on, and take the chance of anger.

       [Draws. They fight. Cornwall is wounded.]

       Reg.

       Give me thy sword [to another servant.]—A peasant stand up thus?

       [Snatches a sword, comes behind, and stabs him.]

       First Serv.

       O, I am slain!—My lord, you have one eye left

       To see some mischief on thim. O!

       [Dies.]

       Corn.

       Lest it see more, prevent it.—Out, vile jelly!

       Where is thy lustre now?

       [Tears out Gloster’s other eye and throws it on the ground.]

       Glou.

       All dark and comfortless.—Where’s my son Edmund?

       Edmund, enkindle all the sparks of nature

       To quit this horrid act.

       Reg.

       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.

       Glou.

       O my follies! Then Edgar was abus’d.—

       Kind gods, forgive me that, and prosper him!

       Reg.

       Go thrust him out at gates, and let him smell

       His way to Dover.—How is’t, my lord? How look you?

       Corn.

       I have receiv’d 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.

       [Exit Cornwall, led by Regan; Servants unbind Gloster and lead him out.]

       Second Serv.

       I’ll never care

Скачать книгу