Lear's Labour's Lost
                                                         copyright © 2007 Jeff Goode

            ACT III

            SCENE 6 - Gloucester's castle. Before Regan's window. 
                  Enter COSTARD and Musicians, serenading
            COSTARD 
               [Sings] A wightly wanton with a velvet brow,
               With two pitch-balls stuck in her face for eyes;
               A woman, that is like a German clock,
               Still a-repairing, ever out of frame,
               And never going aright, being a watch,
               But being watch'd that it may still go right!
               Ay, and by heaven, one that will do the deed
               Though Argus were her eunuch and her guard:
               And I to sigh for her! to watch for her!
               To pray for her! Go to; it is a plague
               That Cupid will impose for my neglect
               Of his almighty dreadful little might.
               What, I! I love! I sue! I seek a wife!
               Well, I will love, write, sigh, pray, sue and groan:
               Some men must love my lady and some Joan.
                  Enter REGAN, EDMUND and GLOUCESTER
            REGAN
               Was he not companion with the riotous knights 
               That tend upon my father?
            GLOUCESTER
               I know not, madam: 'tis too bad, too bad.
            EDMUND
               Yes, madam, he was of that consort.
            REGAN
               No marvel, then, though he were ill affected: 
            COSTARD 
               O, I am yours, and all that I possess!
            REGAN
               All the fool mine?
            COSTARD
                                  I cannot give you less.
               Sweet majesty, vouchsafe me,-- 
            REGAN 
               [To COSTARD]
               We have received your letters full of love;
               Your favours, the ambassadors of love;
               And, in our maiden council, rated them
               In their own fashion, like a merriment.
            COSTARD
               Our letters, madam, show'd much more than jest.
               So did our looks.
            REGAN 
                                We did not quote them so.
            COSTARD 
               Now, at the latest minute of the hour,
               Grant us your loves.
            REGAN 
                                A time, methinks, too short
               To make a world-without-end bargain in.
               [To GLOUCESTER] I will not speak with him; say I am sick: 
            GLOUCESTER
               I am sorry for thee, friend; 'tis Regan's pleasure, 
               Whose disposition, all the world well knows, 
               Will not be rubb'd nor stopp'd.
            COSTARD 
               Deny to speak with me? She is sick? she is weary? She has travell'd all the night? Mere
               fetches; The images of revolt and flying off. 
               Fetch me a better answer.
            EDMUND 
               Fetch forth the stocks! You stubborn braggart knave, 
               We'll teach you--
            COSTARD 
                                 Sir, I am too old to learn: 
               Call not your stocks for me: I serve the king;  
               You shall do small respect, show too bold malice 
               Against the grace and person of my master, 
                Stocking his messenger. 
            EDMUND 
               Fetch forth the stocks! As I have life and honour, 
               There shall he sit till noon.
            REGAN
               Till noon! till night, my lord; and all night too.
            COSTARD 
               Why, madam, if I were your father's dog, 
               You should not use me so.
            EDMUND 
                                 Sir, being his knave, I will.
            REGAN 
               This is a fellow of the self-same colour 
               Our sister speaks of. Come, bring away the stocks! 
                                                             Stocks brought out
            GLOUCESTER
               Let me beseech your grace not to do so: 
               His fault is much, and the good king his master 
               Will cheque him for 't: your purposed low correction 
               Is such as basest and contemned'st wretches 
               Are punish'd with: the king must take it ill, 
               That he's so slightly valued in his messenger, 
               Should have him thus restrain'd.
            REGAN
                                    I'll answer that.
               Put in his legs. 
                                                       COSTARD is put in the stocks 
                                 Come, my good lord, away. 
                                                          Exeunt all but COSTARD
                  Enter KING LEAR and KENT
            KING LEAR
               'Tis strange that she should so depart from home, 
               And not send back my messenger. 
            COSTARD
               Hail to thee, noble master!
            KING LEAR
                                        Ha!
               What's he that hath so much thy place mistook 
               To set thee here?
            COSTARD
                                   It is both he and she;
               Your whoreson daughter.
            KING LEAR
                                   No.                       
            COSTARD
                                    Yes.                
            KING LEAR
                                      No, I say.
            COSTARD
               By Juno, I swear, ay.
            KING LEAR
                                   She durst not do 't;
               She could not, would not do 't; 'tis worse than murder,
               To do upon respect such violent outrage:
               Resolve me, with all modest haste, which way
               Thou mightst deserve, or they impose, this usage,
               An you lie, sirrah, we'll have you whipped. 
            COSTARD
               I marvel what kin thou and thy daughters are: they'll have me whipped for speaking true,
               thou'lt have me whipped for lying; and sometimes I am whipped for holding my peace.
                  Enter GLOUCESTER
            KING LEAR 
               Why, Gloucester, Gloucester, 
               I'ld speak with the Princess Regan, call her forth.
            GLOUCESTER
               Well, my good lord, I have inform'd her so.
            KING LEAR
               Inform'd her! Dost thou understand me, man?
               The king would speak with Regan; the dear father 
               Would with his daughter speak, commands her service: 
               Is she inform'd of this? My breath and blood! 
               Go tell her ladyship I'ld speak with her,
               Now, presently: bid her come forth and hear me,
               Or at her chamber-door I'll beat the drum
               Till it cry sleep to death.
            GLOUCESTER
               I would have all well betwixt you. 
                                                                      Exit
            KING LEAR
               O me, my heart, my rising heart! but, down! 
                  Enter REGAN, EDMUND, GLOUCESTER, and Servants
               Good morrow to you both.
            EDMUND 
               Hail to your grace!
                  COSTARD is set at liberty
            REGAN
               I am glad to see your highness.
            KING LEAR
               Some other time for that. Belovèd Regan,
               Thy sister's naught: O Regan, she hath tied
               Sharp-tooth'd unkindness, like a vulture, here:
                                                             Points to his heart
               I can scarce speak to thee; thou'lt not believe
               With how depraved a quality--O Regan!
            REGAN
               I cannot think my sister in the least 
               Would fail her obligation: if, sir, perchance 
               She have restrain'd the riots of your followers, 
               'Tis on such ground, and to such wholesome end, 
               As clears her from all blame.
            KING LEAR
               My curses on her!
            REGAN
                                   O, sir, you are old.
            KING LEAR
               All the stored vengeances of heaven fall
               On her ingrateful top! Strike her young bones,
            REGAN
               O the blest gods! so will you wish on me, 
               When the rash mood is on.
            KING LEAR
               No, Regan, thou shalt never have my curse: 
               Thy half o' the kingdom hast thou not forgot, 
               Wherein I thee endow'd.
            REGAN
               Good sir, to the purpose.
            KING LEAR
               Who put my man i' the stocks? 
                                                                Tucket within
            EDMUND 
               What trumpet's that?
            REGAN
               I know't, my sister's: this approves her letter, 
               That she would soon be here. 
            KING LEAR
               Who stock'd my servant? Regan, I have good hope 
               Thou didst not know on't. Who comes here? O heavens, 
                  Enter GONERIL
                                                                To GONERIL
               Art not ashamed to look upon this beard?
               O Regan, wilt thou take her by the hand?
            GONERIL
               Why not by the hand, sir? How have I offended? 
            KING LEAR
               O sides, you are too tough; 
               Will you yet hold? How came my man i' the stocks?
            REGAN 
               I set him there, sir: but his own disorders 
               Deserved much less advancement.
            KING LEAR
               You! did you?
            REGAN
               I pray you, father, being weak, seem so. 
               If, till the expiration of your month, 
               You will return and sojourn with my sister, 
               Dismissing half your train, come then to me: 
               I am now from home, and out of that provision 
               Which shall be needful for your entertainment.
            KING LEAR
               Return to her, and fifty men dismiss'd? 
               No, rather I abjure all roofs, and choose 
               To wage against the enmity o' the air; 
            GONERIL
                                   At your choice, sir.
            KING LEAR
               I prithee, daughter, do not make me mad: 
            REGAN
               I look'd not for you yet, nor am provided
               For your fit welcome. If you will come to me,-- 
               For now I spy a danger,--I entreat you 
               To bring but five and twenty: to no more 
               Will I give place or notice.
            KING LEAR
               I gave you all--
            REGAN
                                And in good time you gave it.
            KING LEAR
                                                                To GONERIL
               I'll go with thee:
               Thy fifty yet doth double five and twenty,
               And thou art twice her love.
            GONERIL
                                    Hear me, my lord;
               What need you five and twenty, ten, or five,
               To follow in a house where twice so many
               Have a command to tend you?
            REGAN
                                    What need one?
            KING LEAR
               You heavens, give me that patience, patience I need! 
               I will have such revenges on you both, 
               What they are, yet I know not: but they shall be 
               The terrors of the earth. You think I'll weep 
               No, I'll not weep:
               I have full cause of weeping; but this heart
               Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws,
               Or ere I'll weep. O fool, I shall go mad!
                                               Exeunt KING LEAR, GLOUCESTER, KENT
                                                              Storm and tempest
            COSTARD
               If she live long, 
               And in the end meet the old course of death,
               Women will all turn monsters.
                                                                      Exit
            GONERIL 
               Let us withdraw; 'twill be a storm.
            REGAN
               This house is little: the old man and his people 
               Cannot be well bestow'd.
            GONERIL
               'Tis his own blame; hath put himself from rest, 
               And must needs taste his folly.
            REGAN
               For his particular, I'll receive him gladly, 
               But not one follower.
            GONERIL
                                    So am I purposed.
                                                          Re-enter GLOUCESTER
            GLOUCESTER
               Alack, the night comes on, and the bleak winds 
               Do sorely ruffle; for many miles a bout 
               There's scarce a bush.
            REGAN
                                   O, sir, to wilful men,
               The injuries that they themselves procure
               Must be their schoolmasters. Shut up your doors:
               He is attended with a desperate train;
                                                             Exit GLOUCESTER
            GONERIL 
               Are these the breed of wits so wonder'd at?
            REGAN 
               Well, better wits have worn plain statute-caps.
            GONERIL 
               But, Regan, what was sent you from the foolish swain?
            REGAN 
               Madam, this glove.
            GONERIL 
                                Did he not send you twain?
            REGAN 
               Yes, madam, and moreover
               Some thousand verses of a faithful lover,
            GONERIL 
               This and these pearls to me sent he the while:
               The letter is too long by half a mile.
            REGAN 
               I think no less. Dost thou not wish in heart
               The chain were longer and the letter short?
            GONERIL 
               Ay, or I would these hands might never part.
            REGAN 
               We are wise girls to mock our lover so.
            GONERIL 
               He the worse fool to purchase mocking so.
               That same Costàrd I'll torture ere I go:
               So perttaunt-like would I o'ersway his state
               That he should be my fool and I his fate.
                                                                Exit GONERIL
            REGAN 
               If you desire to dance, let's hold more chat.
            EDMUND 
               In private, then.
            REGAN 
                                I am best pleased with that.
                                                           They converse apart
                                                                End of Act III

Forth!