Back, Come Back; The Things I Have Not Done Beat In Upon My Brain From Every Side: I Know Not Where To Put Myself To Bear Them: If I Could Have You Now I Could Act Well. My Inward Life, Deeds That You Have Not Known, I Burn To Tell You In A Sudden Dread That Now Your Ghost Discovers Them In Me. Hearken, Mother; Between Us There'S A Bond Of Flesh And Essence Closer Than Love Can Cause: It Cannot Be Unknit So Soon As This, And You Must Know My Touch, And You Shall Yield A Sign. Feel, Feel This Urging Throb: I Call To You ... [Gormflaith, Still Crowned, Enters By The Garden Doorway.] Gormflaith: Come Back! Help Me And Shield Me! [She Disappears Through The Curtains. Goneril Has Sprung To Her Feet At The First Sound Of Gormflaith'S Voice. Lear Enters Through The Garden Doorway, Leading Gormflaith By The Hand.] Lear: What Is To Do? Goneril (Advancing To Meet Them With A Deep Obeisance): O, Sir, The Queen Is Dead: Long Live The Queen, You Have Been Ready With The Coronation. Lear: What Do You Mean? Young Madam, Will You Mock? Goneril: But Is Not She Your Choice? The Old Queen Thought So, For I Found Her Here, Lipping The Prints Of Her Supplanter'S Feet, Prostrate In Homage, On Her Face, Silent. I Tremble Within To Have Seen Her Fallen Down. I Must Be Pardoned If I Scorn Your Ways: You Cannot Know This Feeling That I Know, You Are Not Of Her Kin Or House; But I Share Blood With Her, And, Though She Grew Too Worn To Be Your Queen, She Was My Mother, Sir. Gormflaith: The Queen Has Seen Me. Lear: She Is Safe In Bed. Goneril: Do Not Speak Low: Your Voice Sounds Guilty So; And There Is No More Need - She Will Not Wake. Lear: She Cannot Sleep For Ever. When She Wakes I Will Announce My Purpose In The Need Of Britain For A Prince To Follow Me, And Tell Her That She Is To Be Deposed ... What Have You Done? She Is Not Breathing Now. She Breathed Here Lately. Is She Truly Dead? Goneril: Your Graceful Consort Steals From Us Too Soon: Will You Not Tell Her That She Should Remain - If She Can Trust The Faith You Keep With A Queen? [She Steps To Gormflaith, Who Is Sidling Toward The Garden Door-Way, And, Taking Her Hand, Leads Her To The Foot Of The Bed.] Lady, Why Will You Go? The King Intends That You Shall Soon Be Royal, And Thereby Admitted To Our Breed: Then Stay With Us In This Domestic Privacy To Mourn The Grief Here Fallen On Our Family. Kneel Now; I Yield The Eldest Daughter'S Place. Why Do You Fumble In Your Bosom So? Put Your Cold Hands Together; Close Your Eyes, In Inward Isolation To Assemble Your Memories Of The Dead, Your Prayers For Her. [She Turns To Lear, Who Has Approached The Bed And Drawn Back The Curtain.] What Utterance Of Doom Would The King Use Upon A Watchman In The Castle Garth Who Left His Gate And Let An Enemy In? The Watcher By The Queen Thus Left Her Station: The Sick Bruised Queen Is Dead Of That Neglect. And What Should Be The Doom On A Seducer Who Drew That Sentinel From His Fixt Watch? Lear: She Had Long Been Dying, And She Would Have Died Had All Her Dutiful Daughters Tended Her Bed. Goneril: Yes, She Had Long Been Dying In Her Heart. She Lived To See You Give Her Crown Away; She Died To See You Fondle A Menial: These Blows You Dealt Now, But What Elder Wounds Received Them To Such Purpose Suddenly? What Had You Caused Her To Remember Most? What Things Would She Be Like To Babble Over In The Wild Helpless Hour When Fitful Life No More Can Choose What Thoughts It Shall Encourage In The Tost Mind? She Has Suffered You Twice Over, Your Animal Thoughts And Hungry Powers, This Day, Until I Knew You Unkingly And Untrue. Lear: Punishment Once Taught You Daughterly Silence; It Shall Be Tried Again ... What Has She Said? Goneril: You Cannot Touch Me Now I Know Your Nature: Your Force Upon My Mind Was Only Terrible When I Believed You A Cruel Flawless Man. Ruler Of Lands And Dreaded Judge Of Men, Now You Have Done A Murder With Your Mind Can You See Any Murderer Put To Death? Can You - Lear: What Has She Said? Goneril: Continue In Your Joy Of Punishing Evil, Your Passion Of Just Revenge Upon Wrong-Doers, Unkingly And Untrue? Lear: Enough: What Do You Know? Goneril: That Which Could Add A Further Agony To The Last Agony, The Daily Poison Of Her Late, Withering Life; But Never Word Of Fairer Hours Or Any Lost Delight. Have You No Memory, Either, Of Her Youth, While She Was Still To Use, Spoil, Forsake, That Maims Your New Contentment With A Longing For What Is Gone And Will Not Come Again? Lear: I Did Not Know That She Could Die To-Day. She Had A Bloodless Beauty That Cheated Me: She Was Not Born For Wedlock. She Shut Me Out. She Is No Colder Now ... I'll Hear No More. You Shall Be Answered Afterward For This. Put Something Over Her: Get Her Buried: I Will Not Look On Her Again. [He Breaks From Goneril And Flings Abruptly Out By The Door Near The Bed.] Gormflaith: My King, You Leave Me! Goneril: Soon We Follow Him: But, Ah, Poor Fragile Beauty, You Cannot Rise While This Grave Burden Weights Your Drooping Head. [Laying Her Hand Caressingly On Gormflaith'S Neck, She Gradually Forces Her Head Farther And Farther Down.] You Were Not Nurtured To Sustain A Crown, Your Unanointed Parents Could Not Breed The Spirit That Ten Hundred Years Must Ripen. Lo, How You Sink And Fail. Gormflaith: You Had Best Take Care, For Where My Neck Has Bruises Yours Shall Have Wounds. The King Knows Of Your Wolfish Snapping At Me: He Will Protect Me. Goneril: Ay, If He Is In Time. Gormflaith (Taking Off The Crown And Holding It Up Blindly Toward Goneril With One Hand): Take It And Let Me Go! Goneril: Nay, Not To Me: You Are The Queen'S, To Serve Her Even In Death. Yield Her Her Own. Approach Her: Do Not Fear; She Will Not Chide You Or Forgive You Now. Go On Your Knees; The Crown Still Holds You Down. [Gormflaith Stumbles Forward On Her Knees And Lays The Crown On The Bed, Then Crouches Motionlessly Against The Bedside.] Goneril (Taking The Crown And Putting It On The Dead Queen'S Head): Mother And Queen, To You This Holiest Circlet Returns, By You Renews Its Purpose And Pride; Though It Is Sullied With A Menial Warmth, Your August Coldness Shall Rehallow It, And When The Young Lewd Blood That Lent It Heat Is Also Cooler We Can Well Forget. [She Steps To Gormflaith.] Rise. Come, For Here There Is No More To Do, And Let Us Seek Your Chamber, If You Will, There To Confer In Greater Privacy; For We Have Now Interment To Prepare. [She Leads Gormflaith To The Door Near The Bed.] You Must Walk First, You Are Still The Queen Elect. [When Gormflaith Has Passed Before Her Goneril Unsheathes Her Hunting Knife.] Gormflaith (Turning In The Doorway): What Will You Do? Goneril (Thrusting Her Forward With The Haft Of The Knife): On. On. On. Go In. [She Follows Gormflaith Out. After A Moment'S Interval Two Elderly Women, One A Little Younger Than The Other, Enter By The Same Door: They Wear Black Hoods And Shapeless Black Gowns With Large Sleeves That Flap Like The Wings Of Ungainly Birds: Between Them They Carry A Heavy Cauldron Of Hot Water.] The Younger Woman: We Were Listening. We Were Listening. The Elder Woman: We Were Both Listening. The Younger Woman: Did She Struggle? The Elder Woman: She Could Not Struggle Long. [They Set Down The Cauldron At The Foot Of The Bed.] The Elder Woman (Curtseying To The Queen'S Body): Saving Your Presence, Madam, We Are Come To Make You Sweeter Than You'll Be Hereafter, And Then Be Done With You. The Younger Woman (Curtseying In Turn): Three Days Together, My Lady, Y'Have Had Me Ducked For Easing A Foolish Maid At The Wrong Time; But Now Your Breath Is Stopped And You Are Colder, And You Shall Be As Wet As A Drowned Rat Ere I Have Done With You. The Elder Woman (Fumbling In The Folds Of The Robe That Hangs On The Wall): Her Pocket Is Empty; Merryn Has Been Here First. Hearken, And Then Begin: You Have Not Touched A Royal Corpse Before, But I Have Stretched A King And An Old Queen, A King'S Aunt And A King'S Brother Too, Without Much Boasting Of A Still-Born Princess; So That I Know, As A Priest Knows His Prayers, All That Is Written In The Chamberlain'S Book About The Handling Of Exalted Corpses, Stripping Them And Trussing Them For The Grave: And There It Says That The Chief Corpse-Washer Shall Take For Her Own Use By Sacred Right The Coverlid, The Upper Sheet, The Mattress Of Any Bed In Which A Queen Has Died, And The Last Robe Of State The Body Wore; While Humbler Helpers May Divide Among Them The Under Sheet, The Pillow, And The Bed-Gown Stript From The Cooling Queen. Be Thankful, Then, And Praise Me Every Day That I Have Brought No Other Women With Me To Spoil You Of Your Share. The Younger Woman: Ah, You Have Always Been A Friend To Me: Many'S The Time I Have Said I Did Not Know How I Could Even Have Lived But For Your Kindness. [The Elder Woman Draws Down The Bedclothes From The Queen'S Body, Loosens Them From The Bed, And Throws Them On The Floor.] The Elder Woman: Pull Her Feet Straight: Is Your Mind Wandering? [She Commences To Fold The Bedclothes, Singing As She Moves About.] A Louse Crept Out Of My Lady'S Shift - Ahumm, Ahumm, Ahee - Crying "Oi! Oi! We Are Turned Adrift; The Lady'S Bosom Is Cold And Stiffed, And Her Arm-Pit'S Cold For Me." [While The Elder Woman Sings, The Younger Woman Straightens The Queen'S Feet And Ties Them Together, Draws The Pillow From Under Her Head, Gathers Her Hair In One Hand And Knots It Roughly; Then She Loosens Her Nightgown, Revealing A Jewel Hung On A Cord Round The Queen'S Neck.] The Elder Woman (Running To The Vacant Side Of The Bed): What Have You There? Give It To Me. The Younger Woman: It Is Mine: I Found It. The Elder Woman: Leave It. The Younger Woman: Let Go. The Elder Woman: Leave It, I Say. Will You Not? Will You Not? An Eye For A Jewel, Then! [She Attacks The Face Of The Younger Woman With Her Disengaged Hand.] The Younger Woman (Starting Back): Oh! [The Elder Woman Breaks The Cord And Thrusts The Jewel Into Her Pocket.] The Younger Woman: Aie! Aie! Aie! Old Thief! You Are Always Thieving! You Stole A Necklace On Your Wedding Day: You Could Not Bear A Child, You Stole Your Daughter: You Stole A Shroud The Morn Your Husband Died: Last Week You Stole The Princess Regan'S Comb ... [She Stumbles Into The Chair By The Bed, And, Throwing Her Loose Sleeves Over Her Head, Rocks Herself And Moans.] The Elder Woman (Resuming Her Clothes-Folding And Her Song): "The Lady'S Linen'S No Longer Neat;" - Ahumm, Ahumm, Ahee - "Her Savour Is Neither Warm Nor Sweet; It'S Close For Two In A Winding Sheet, And Lice Are Too Good For Worms To Eat; So Here'S No Place For Me." [Goneril Enters By The Door Near The Bed: Her Knife And The Hand That Holds It Are Bloody. She Pauses A Moment Irresolutely.] The Elder Woman: Still Work For Old Hrogneda, Little Princess? [Goneril Goes Straight To The Cauldron, Passing The Women As If They Were Not There: She Kneels And Washes Her Knife And Her Hand In It. The Women Retire To The Back Of The Chamber.] Goneril (Speaking To Herself): The Way Is Easy: And It Is To Be Used. How Could This Need Have Been Conceived Slowly? In A Keen Mind It Should Have Leapt And Burnt: What I Have Done Would Have Been Better Done When My Sad Mother Lived And Could Feel Joy. This Striking Without Thought Is Better Than Hunting; She Showed More Terror Than An Animal, She Was More Shiftless ... A Little Blood Is Lightly Washed Away, A Common Stain That Need Not Be Remembered; And A Hot Spasm Of Rightness Quickly Born Can Guide Me To Kill Justly And Shall Guide. [Lear Enters By The Door Near The Bed.] Lear: Goneril, Gormflaith, Gormflaith ... Have You Seen Gormflaith? Goneril: I Led Her To Her Chamber Lately, Sir. Lear: Ay, She Is In Her Chamber. She Is There. Goneril: Have You Been There Already? Could You Not Wait? Lear: Daughter, She Is Bleeding: She Is Slain. Goneril (Rising From The Cauldron With Dripping Hands): Yes, She Is Slain: I Did It With A Knife: And In This Water Is Dissolved Her Blood, (Raising Her Arms And Sprinkling The Queen'S Body) That Now I Scatter On The Queen Of Death For Signal To Her Spirit That I Can Slake Her Long Corrosion Of Misery With Such Balm - Blood For Weeping, Terror For Woe, Death For Death, A Broken Body For A Broken Heart. What Will You Say Against Me And My Deed? Lear: That Now You Cannot Save Yourself From Me. While Your Blind Virgin Power Still Stood Apart In An Unused, Unviolated Life, You Judged Me In My Weakness, And Because I Felt You Unflawed I Could Not Answer You; But You Have Mingled In Mortality And Violently Begun The Common Life By Fault Against Your Fellows; And The State, The State Of Britain That Inheres In Me Not Touched By My Humanity Or Sin, Passions Or Privy Acts, Shall Be As Hard And Savage To You As To A Murderess. Goneril (Taking A Letter From Her Girdle): I Found A Warrant In Her Favoured Bosom, King: She Wore This On Her Heart When You Were Crowning Her. Lear: But This Is Not My Hand: (Looking About Him On The Floor) Where Is The Other Letter? Goneril: Is There Another Letter? What Should It Say? Lear: There Is No Other Letter If You Have None. (Reading) "Open Your Window When The Moon Is Dead, And I Will Come Again. The Men Say Everywhere That You Are Faithless ... And Your Eyes Shifty Eyes. Ah, But I Love You, Gormflaith." ... This Is Not Hers: She'D Not Receive Such Words. Goneril: Her Name Stands Twice Therein: Her Perfume Fills It: My Knife Went Through It Ere I Found It On Her. Lear: The Filth Is Suitably Dead. You Are My True Daughter. Goneril: I Do Not Understand How Men Can Govern, Use Craft And Exercise The Duty Of Cunning, Anticipate Treason, Treachery Meet With Treachery, And Yet Believe A Woman Because She Looks Straight In Their Eyes With Mournful, Trustful Gaze, And Lisps Like Innocence, All Gentleness. Your Gormflaith Could Not Answer A Woman'S Eyes. I Did Not Need To Read Her In A Letter; I Am Not Woman Yet, But I Can Feel What Untruths Are Instinctive In My Kind, And How Some Men Desire Deceit From Us. Come; Let These Washers Do What They Must Do: Or Shall Your Queen Be Wrapped And Coffined Awry? [She Goes Out By The Garden Doorway.] Lear: I Thought She Had Been Broken Long Ago: She Must Be Wedded And Broken, I Cannot Do It. [He Follows Goneril Out. The Two Women Return To The Bedside.] The Elder Woman: Poor, Masterful King, He Is No Easier, Although His Tearful Wife Is Gone At Last: A Wilful Girl Shall Prick And Thwart Him Now. Old Gossip, We Must Hasten; The Queen Is Setting. Lend Me A Pair Of Pennies To Weight Her Eyes. The Younger Woman: Find Your Own Pennies: Then You Can Steal Them Safely. The Elder Woman: Praise You The Gods Of Britain, As I Do Praise Them, That I Have Been Sweet-Natured From My Birth, And That I Lack Your Unforgiving Mind. Friend Of The Worms, Help Me To Lift Her Clear And Draw Away The Under Sheet For You; Then Go And Spread The Shroud By The Hall Fire - I Never Could Put Damp Linen On A Corpse. [She Sings.] The Louse Made Off Unhappy And Wet; - Ahumm, Ahumm, Ahee - He'S Looking For Us, The Little Pet; So Haste, For Her Chin'S To Tie Up Yet, And Let Us Be Gone With What We Can Get - Her Ring For Thee, Her Gown For Bet, Her Pocket Turned Out For Me. Curtain. [Footnote 1: Copyright By Gordon Bottomley, 1915, In The United States Of America.]