SEARCH TEXTS  

Plays  +  Sonnets  +  Poems  +  Concordance  +  Advanced Search  +  About OSS

Speeches (Lines) for Edgar
in "King Lear"

Total: 98

---
# Act, Scene, Line
(Click to see in context)
Speech text

1

I,2,460

How now, brother Edmund? What serious contemplation are you
in?

2

I,2,464

Do you busy yourself with that?

3

I,2,471

How long have you been a sectary astronomical?

4

I,2,473

The night gone by.

5

I,2,475

Ay, two hours together.

6

I,2,478

None at all.

7

I,2,484

Some villain hath done me wrong.

8

I,2,490

Arm'd, brother?

9

I,2,495

Shall I hear from you anon?

10

II,1,954

I am sure on't, not a word.

11

II,3,1252

I heard myself proclaim'd,
And by the happy hollow of a tree
Escap'd the hunt. No port is free, no place
That guard and most unusual vigilance
Does not attend my taking. Whiles I may scape,
I will preserve myself; and am bethought
To take the basest and most poorest shape
That ever penury, in contempt of man,
Brought near to beast. My face I'll grime with filth,
Blanket my loins, elf all my hair in knots,
And with presented nakedness outface
The winds and persecutions of the sky.
The country gives me proof and precedent
Of Bedlam beggars, who, with roaring voices,
Strike in their numb'd and mortified bare arms
Pins, wooden pricks, nails, sprigs of rosemary;
And with this horrible object, from low farms,
Poor pelting villages, sheepcotes, and mills,
Sometime with lunatic bans, sometime with prayers,
Enforce their charity. 'Poor Turlygod! poor Tom!'
That's something yet! Edgar I nothing am. Exit.

12

III,4,1840

[within] Fathom and half, fathom and half! Poor Tom!

13

III,4,1848

Away! the foul fiend follows me! Through the sharp hawthorn
blows the cold wind. Humh! go to thy cold bed, and warm thee.

14

III,4,1852

Who gives anything to poor Tom? whom the foul fiend hath led
through fire and through flame, through ford and whirlpool, o'er
bog and quagmire; that hath laid knives under his pillow and
halters in his pew, set ratsbane by his porridge, made him proud
of heart, to ride on a bay trotting horse over four-inch'd
bridges, to course his own shadow for a traitor. Bless thy five
wits! Tom 's acold. O, do de, do de, do de. Bless thee from
whirlwinds, star-blasting, and taking! Do poor Tom some charity,
whom the foul fiend vexes. There could I have him now- and there-
and there again- and there!

15

III,4,1875

Pillicock sat on Pillicock's Hill. 'Allow, 'allow, loo, loo!

16

III,4,1877

Take heed o' th' foul fiend; obey thy parents: keep thy word
justly; swear not; commit not with man's sworn spouse; set not
thy sweet heart on proud array. Tom 's acold.

17

III,4,1881

A servingman, proud in heart and mind; that curl'd my hair,
wore gloves in my cap; serv'd the lust of my mistress' heart and
did the act of darkness with her; swore as many oaths as I spake
words, and broke them in the sweet face of heaven; one that
slept in the contriving of lust, and wak'd to do it. Wine lov'd
I deeply, dice dearly; and in woman out-paramour'd the Turk.
False of heart, light of ear, bloody of hand; hog in sloth, fox
in stealth, wolf in greediness, dog in madness, lion in prey.
Let not the creaking of shoes nor the rustling of silks betray
thy poor heart to woman. Keep thy foot out of brothel, thy hand
out of placket, thy pen from lender's book, and defy the foul
fiend. Still through the hawthorn blows the cold wind; says
suum, mun, hey, no, nonny. Dolphin my boy, my boy, sessa! let
him trot by.

18

III,4,1910

This is the foul fiend Flibbertigibbet. He begins at curfew,
and walks till the first cock. He gives the web and the pin,
squints the eye, and makes the harelip; mildews the white wheat,
and hurts the poor creature of earth.
Saint Withold footed thrice the 'old;
He met the nightmare, and her nine fold;
Bid her alight
And her troth plight,
And aroint thee, witch, aroint thee!

19

III,4,1923

Poor Tom, that eats the swimming frog, the toad, the todpole,
the wall-newt and the water; that in the fury of his heart, when
the foul fiend rages, eats cow-dung for sallets, swallows the
old rat and the ditch-dog, drinks the green mantle of the
standing pool; who is whipp'd from tithing to tithing, and
stock-punish'd and imprison'd; who hath had three suits to his
back, six shirts to his body, horse to ride, and weapons to
wear;
But mice and rats, and such small deer,
Have been Tom's food for seven long year.
Beware my follower. Peace, Smulkin! peace, thou fiend!

20

III,4,1935

The prince of darkness is a gentleman!
Modo he's call'd, and Mahu.

21

III,4,1939

Poor Tom 's acold.

22

III,4,1951

How to prevent the fiend and to kill vermin.

23

III,4,1967

Tom's acold.

24

III,4,1978

Child Rowland to the dark tower came;
His word was still
Fie, foh, and fum!
I smell the blood of a British man.

25

III,6,2013

Frateretto calls me, and tells me Nero is an angler in the
lake of darkness. Pray, innocent, and beware the foul fiend.

26

III,6,2022

The foul fiend bites my back.

27

III,6,2028

Look, where he stands and glares! Want'st thou eyes at trial,
madam?
Come o'er the bourn, Bessy, to me.

28

III,6,2034

The foul fiend haunts poor Tom in the voice of a nightingale.
Hoppedance cries in Tom's belly for two white herring. Croak
not, black angel; I have no food for thee.

29

III,6,2044

Let us deal justly.
Sleepest or wakest thou, jolly shepherd?
Thy sheep be in the corn;
And for one blast of thy minikin mouth
Thy sheep shall take no harm.
Purr! the cat is gray.

30

III,6,2059

Bless thy five wits!

31

III,6,2062

[aside] My tears begin to take his part so much
They'll mar my counterfeiting.

32

III,6,2066

Tom will throw his head at them. Avaunt, you curs!
Be thy mouth or black or white,
Tooth that poisons if it bite;
Mastiff, greyhound, mongrel grim,
Hound or spaniel, brach or lym,
Bobtail tyke or trundle-tail-
Tom will make them weep and wail;
For, with throwing thus my head,
Dogs leap the hatch, and all are fled.
Do de, de, de. Sessa! Come, march to wakes and fairs and market
towns. Poor Tom, thy horn is dry.

33

III,6,2106

When we our betters see bearing our woes,
We scarcely think our miseries our foes.
Who alone suffers suffers most i' th' mind,
Leaving free things and happy shows behind;
But then the mind much sufferance doth o'erskip
When grief hath mates, and bearing fellowship.
How light and portable my pain seems now,
When that which makes me bend makes the King bow,
He childed as I fathered! Tom, away!
Mark the high noises, and thyself bewray
When false opinion, whose wrong thought defiles thee,
In thy just proof repeals and reconciles thee.
What will hap more to-night, safe scape the King!
Lurk, lurk. [Exit.]

34

IV,1,2247

Yet better thus, and known to be contemn'd,
Than still contemn'd and flatter'd. To be worst,
The lowest and most dejected thing of fortune,
Stands still in esperance, lives not in fear.
The lamentable change is from the best;
The worst returns to laughter. Welcome then,
Thou unsubstantial air that I embrace!
The wretch that thou hast blown unto the worst
Owes nothing to thy blasts.
[Enter Gloucester, led by an Old Man.]
But who comes here?
My father, poorly led? World, world, O world!
But that thy strange mutations make us hate thee,
Life would not yield to age.

35

IV,1,2276

[aside] O gods! Who is't can say 'I am at the worst'?
I am worse than e'er I was.

36

IV,1,2279

[aside] And worse I may be yet. The worst is not
So long as we can say 'This is the worst.'

37

IV,1,2291

[aside] How should this be?
Bad is the trade that must play fool to sorrow,
Ang'ring itself and others.- Bless thee, master!

38

IV,1,2308

Poor Tom's acold. [Aside] I cannot daub it further.

39

IV,1,2310

[aside] And yet I must.- Bless thy sweet eyes, they bleed.

40

IV,1,2312

Both stile and gate, horseway and footpath. Poor Tom hath been
scar'd out of his good wits. Bless thee, good man's son, from
the foul fiend! Five fiends have been in poor Tom at once: of
lust, as Obidicut; Hobbididence, prince of dumbness; Mahu, of
stealing; Modo, of murder; Flibbertigibbet, of mopping and
mowing, who since possesses chambermaids and waiting women. So,
bless thee, master!

41

IV,1,2327

Ay, master.

42

IV,1,2334

Give me thy arm.
Poor Tom shall lead thee.

43

IV,6,2598

You do climb up it now. Look how we labour.

44

IV,6,2600

Horrible steep.
Hark, do you hear the sea?

45

IV,6,2603

Why, then, your other senses grow imperfect
By your eyes' anguish.

46

IV,6,2608

Y'are much deceiv'd. In nothing am I chang'd
But in my garments.

47

IV,6,2611

Come on, sir; here's the place. Stand still. How fearful
And dizzy 'tis to cast one's eyes so low!
The crows and choughs that wing the midway air
Show scarce so gross as beetles. Halfway down
Hangs one that gathers sampire- dreadful trade!
Methinks he seems no bigger than his head.
The fishermen that walk upon the beach
Appear like mice; and yond tall anchoring bark,
Diminish'd to her cock; her cock, a buoy
Almost too small for sight. The murmuring surge
That on th' unnumb'red idle pebble chafes
Cannot be heard so high. I'll look no more,
Lest my brain turn, and the deficient sight
Topple down headlong.

48

IV,6,2626

Give me your hand. You are now within a foot
Of th' extreme verge. For all beneath the moon
Would I not leap upright.

49

IV,6,2634

Now fare ye well, good sir.

50

IV,6,2636

[aside]. Why I do trifle thus with his despair
Is done to cure it.

51

IV,6,2647

Gone, sir, farewell.-
And yet I know not how conceit may rob
The treasury of life when life itself
Yields to the theft. Had he been where he thought,
By this had thought been past.- Alive or dead?
Ho you, sir! friend! Hear you, sir? Speak!-
Thus might he pass indeed. Yet he revives.
What are you, sir?

52

IV,6,2656

Hadst thou been aught but gossamer, feathers, air,
So many fadom down precipitating,
Thou'dst shiver'd like an egg; but thou dost breathe;
Hast heavy substance; bleed'st not; speak'st; art sound.
Ten masts at each make not the altitude
Which thou hast perpendicularly fell.
Thy life is a miracle. Speak yet again.

53

IV,6,2664

From the dread summit of this chalky bourn.
Look up a-height. The shrill-gorg'd lark so far
Cannot be seen or heard. Do but look up.

54

IV,6,2672

Give me your arm.
Up- so. How is't? Feel you your legs? You stand.

55

IV,6,2675

This is above all strangeness.
Upon the crown o' th' cliff what thing was that
Which parted from you?

56

IV,6,2679

As I stood here below, methought his eyes
Were two full moons; he had a thousand noses,Horns whelk'd and wav'd like the enridged sea.
It was some fiend. Therefore, thou happy father,
Think that the clearest gods, who make them honours
Of men's impossibility, have preserv'd thee.

57

IV,6,2689

Bear free and patient thoughts.
Enter Lear, mad, [fantastically dressed with weeds].
But who comes here?
The safer sense will ne'er accommodate
His master thus.

58

IV,6,2696

O thou side-piercing sight!

59

IV,6,2703

Sweet marjoram.

60

IV,6,2749

[aside] I would not take this from report. It is,
And my heart breaks at it.

61

IV,6,2779

O, matter and impertinency mix'd!
Reason, in madness!

62

IV,6,2817

Hail, gentle sir.

63

IV,6,2819

Do you hear aught, sir, of a battle toward?

64

IV,6,2822

But, by your favour,
How near's the other army?

65

IV,6,2826

I thank you sir. That's all.

66

IV,6,2829

I thank you, sir

67

IV,6,2834

Well pray you, father.

68

IV,6,2836

A most poor man, made tame to fortune's blows,
Who, by the art of known and feeling sorrows,
Am pregnant to good pity. Give me your hand;
I'll lead you to some biding.

69

IV,6,2856

Chill not let go, zir, without vurther 'cagion.

70

IV,6,2858

Good gentleman, go your gait, and let poor voke pass. An chud
ha' bin zwagger'd out of my life, 'twould not ha' bin zo long as
'tis by a vortnight. Nay, come not near th' old man. Keep out,
che vore ye, or Ise try whether your costard or my ballow be the
harder. Chill be plain with you.

71

IV,6,2865

Chill pick your teeth, zir. Come! No matter vor your foins.

72

IV,6,2873

I know thee well. A serviceable villain,
As duteous to the vices of thy mistress
As badness would desire.

73

IV,6,2877

Sit you down, father; rest you.
Let's see his pockets; these letters that he speaks of
May be my friends. He's dead. I am only sorry
He had no other deathsman. Let us see.
Leave, gentle wax; and, manners, blame us not.
To know our enemies' minds, we'ld rip their hearts;
Their papers, is more lawful. Reads the letter.
'Let our reciprocal vows be rememb'red. You have many
opportunities to cut him off. If your will want not, time and
place will be fruitfully offer'd. There is nothing done, if he
return the conqueror. Then am I the prisoner, and his bed my
jail; from the loathed warmth whereof deliver me, and supply the
place for your labour.
'Your (wife, so I would say) affectionate servant, 'Goneril.'
O indistinguish'd space of woman's will!
A plot upon her virtuous husband's life,
And the exchange my brother! Here in the sands
Thee I'll rake up, the post unsanctified
Of murtherous lechers; and in the mature time
With this ungracious paper strike the sight
Of the death-practis'd Duke, For him 'tis well
That of thy death and business I can tell.

74

IV,6,2906

Give me your hand.
Far off methinks I hear the beaten drum.
Come, father, I'll bestow you with a friend. Exeunt.

75

V,1,3068

If e'er your Grace had speech with man so poor,
Hear me one word.

76

V,1,3072

Before you fight the battle, ope this letter.
If you have victory, let the trumpet sound
For him that brought it. Wretched though I seem,
I can produce a champion that will prove
What is avouched there. If you miscarry,
Your business of the world hath so an end,
And machination ceases. Fortune love you!

77

V,1,3080

I was forbid it.
When time shall serve, let but the herald cry,
And I'll appear again.

78

V,2,3107

Here, father, take the shadow of this tree
For your good host. Pray that the right may thrive.
If ever I return to you again,
I'll bring you comfort.

79

V,2,3114

Away, old man! give me thy hand! away!
King Lear hath lost, he and his daughter ta'en.
Give me thy hand! come on!

80

V,2,3118

What, in ill thoughts again? Men must endure
Their going hence, even as their coming hither;
Ripeness is all. Come on.

81

V,3,3267

Know my name is lost;
By treason's tooth bare-gnawn and canker-bit.
Yet am I noble as the adversary
I come to cope.

82

V,3,3272

What's he that speaks for Edmund Earl of Gloucester?

83

V,3,3274

Draw thy sword,
That, if my speech offend a noble heart,
Thy arm may do thee justice. Here is mine.
Behold, it is the privilege of mine honours,
My oath, and my profession. I protest-
Maugre thy strength, youth, place, and eminence,
Despite thy victor sword and fire-new fortune,
Thy valour and thy heart- thou art a traitor;
False to thy gods, thy brother, and thy father;
Conspirant 'gainst this high illustrious prince;
And from th' extremest upward of thy head
To the descent and dust beneath thy foot,
A most toad-spotted traitor. Say thou 'no,'
This sword, this arm, and my best spirits are bent
To prove upon thy heart, whereto I speak,
Thou liest.

84

V,3,3323

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.

85

V,3,3337

Worthy prince, I know't.

86

V,3,3340

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.

87

V,3,3365

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.

88

V,3,3381

Kent, sir, the banish'd Kent; who in disguise
Followed his enemy king and did him service
Improper for a slave.

89

V,3,3386

What kind of help?

90

V,3,3388

What means that bloody knife?

91

V,3,3397

Here comes Kent.

92

V,3,3422

To who, my lord? Who has the office? Send
Thy token of reprieve.

93

V,3,3442

Or image of that horror?

94

V,3,3449

'Tis noble Kent, your friend.

95

V,3,3480

Very bootless.

96

V,3,3501

He faints! My lord, my lord!

97

V,3,3503

Look up, my lord.

98

V,3,3507

He is gone indeed.

Return to the "King Lear" menu