Monologue

Gloucester Monologue from King Lear

From King Lear by William Shakespeare

male · anguished · 44 sec

Canst thou blame him? His daughters seek his death. Ah, that good Kent! He said it would be thus, poor banish’d man! Thou sayest the King grows mad; I’ll tell thee, friend, I am almost mad myself. I had a son, Now outlaw’d from my blood; he sought my life But lately, very late: I lov’d him, friend, No father his son dearer: true to tell thee, The grief hath craz’d my wits. What a night’s this! I do beseech your grace.

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