READ STUDY GUIDE: Act IV, scenes i–ii |
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Act IV, Scene ii:
Before the Duke of Albany's Palace.
Before the Duke of Albany's Palace.
| [Enter Goneril and Edmund; Oswald meeting them.] |
| Gon.: |
| Welcome, my lord: I marvel our mild husband |
| Not met us on the way.—Now, where's your master? |
| Osw.: |
| Madam, within; but never man so chang'd. |
| I told him of the army that was landed; |
| He smil'd at it: I told him you were coming; |
| His answer was, 'The worse': Of Gloster'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. |
| Gon.: |
| [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.[Giving a favour.] |
| Wear this; spare speech; |
| Decline your head: this kiss, if it durst speak, |
| Would stretch thy spirits up into the air:— |
| Conceive, and fare thee well. |
| Edm.: |
| Yours in the ranks of death! |
| [Exit Edmund.] |
| Gon.: |
| My most dear Gloster. |
| O, the difference of man and man! |
| To thee a woman's services are due: |
| My fool usurps my body. |
| Osw.: |
| Madam, here comes my lord. |
| [Exit.] |
| [Enter Albany.] |
| Gon.: |
| I have been worth the whistle. |
| Alb.: |
| O Goneril! |
| You are not worth the dust which the rude wind |
| 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. |
| Gon.: |
| No more; the text is foolish. |
| Alb.: |
| 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. |
| Gon.: |
| 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, sitt'st still, and criest |
| 'Alack, why does he so?' |
| Alb.: |
| See thyself, devil! |
| Proper deformity seems not in the fiend |
| So horrid as in woman. |
| Gon.: |
| O vain fool! |
| Alb.: |
| 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. |
| Gon.: |
| Marry, your manhood now! |
| [Enter a Messenger.] |
| Alb.: |
| What news? |
| Mess.: |
| O, my good lord, the Duke of Cornwall's dead; |
| Slain by his servant, going to put out |
| The other eye of Gloster. |
| Alb.: |
| Gloster's eyes! |
| Mess.: |
| A servant that he bred, thrill'd with remorse, |
| Oppos'd against the act, bending his sword |
| To his great master; who, thereat enrag'd, |
| Flew on him, and amongst them fell'd him dead; |
| But not without that harmful stroke which since |
| Hath pluck'd him after. |
| Alb.: |
| This shows you are above, |
| You justicers, that these our nether crimes |
| So speedily can venge!—But, O poor Gloster! |
| Lost he his other eye? |
| Mess.: |
| Both, both, my lord.— |
| This letter, madam, craves a speedy answer; |
| 'Tis from your sister. |
| Gon.: |
| [Aside.] One way I like this well; |
| But being widow, and my Gloster 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.] |
| Alb.: |
| Where was his son when they did take his eyes? |
| Mess.: |
| Come with my lady hither. |
| Alb.: |
| He is not here. |
| Mess.: |
| No, my good lord; I met him back again. |
| Alb.: |
| Knows he the wickedness? |
| Mess.: |
| Ay, my good lord. 'Twas he inform'd against him; |
| And quit the house on purpose, that their punishment |
| Might have the freer course. |
| Alb.: |
| Gloster, 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.] |
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