King Lear: Act 4, Scene 2

    tragedy

    Before ALBANY's palace.

    Scene Summary

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    Albany has heard what has happened and turns against Goneril. She and Edmund have been drawing together. A messenger brings news of Cornwall's death and of Gloucester's blinding. Albany is appalled. Goneril is troubled: now that Regan is a widow, she is a rival for Edmund.

    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 inform'd him, then he call'd me sot,
    And told me I had turn'd the wrong side out:
    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:
    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,
    A mistress's command. Wear this; spare speech;
    Giving a favour
    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!
    Exit EDMUND
    O, the difference of man and man!
    To thee a woman's services are due:
    My fool usurps my body.
    OSWALD
    Madam, here comes my lord.
    Exit
    Enter ALBANY
    GONERIL
    I have been worth the whistle.
    ALBANY
    O Goneril!
    You are not worth the dust which the rude wind
    Blows in your face. I fear your disposition:
    That nature, which contemns its origin,
    Cannot be border'd 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 perform'd?
    A father, and a gracious aged man,
    Whose reverence even the head-lugg'd bear would lick,
    Most barbarous, most degenerate! have you madded.
    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,
    Like monsters of the deep.
    GONERIL
    Milk-liver'd 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 punish'd
    Ere they have done their mischief. Where's thy drum?
    France spreads his banners in our noiseless land;
    With plumed helm thy slayer begins threats;
    Whiles thou, a moral fool, sit'st still, and criest
    'Alack, why does he so?'
    ALBANY
    See thyself, devil!
    Proper deformity seems not in the fiend
    So horrid as in woman.
    GONERIL
    O vain fool!
    ALBANY
    Thou changed and self-cover'd thing, for shame,
    Be-monster not thy feature. Were't my fitness
    To 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 now--
    Enter a Messenger
    ALBANY
    What news?
    Messenger
    O, my good lord, the Duke of Cornwall's dead:
    Slain by his servant, going to put out
    The other eye of Gloucester.
    ALBANY
    Gloucester's eye!
    Messenger
    A servant that he bred, thrill'd with remorse,
    Opposed against the act, bending his sword
    To his great master; who, thereat enraged,
    Flew on him, and amongst them fell'd him dead;
    But not without that harmful stroke, which since
    Hath pluck'd him after.
    ALBANY
    This shows you are above,
    You justicers, that these our nether crimes
    So speedily can venge! But, O poor Gloucester!
    Lost he his other eye?
    Messenger
    Both, both, my lord.
    This letter, madam, craves a speedy answer;
    'Tis from your sister.
    GONERIL
    [Aside] 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.
    Exit
    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.
    ALBANY
    Knows he the wickedness?
    Messenger
    Ay, my good lord; 'twas he inform'd against him;
    And quit the house on purpose, that their punishment
    Might have the freer course.
    ALBANY
    Gloucester, I live
    To thank thee for the love thou show'dst the king,
    And to revenge thine eyes. Come hither, friend:
    Tell me what more thou know'st.
    Exeunt