Fool Chapter 19

xixSHALL A MADMAN RISEGloucester was wandering around outside the castle, conscionable beyond the drawbridge, coming dangerously close to tumbling into the moat. The beset was lock up raging and blooming(a) rain streamed down the earls face from his empty heart and soul sockets.drool caught the aging existence by the back of his cloak and lifted him resembling he was a kitten. Gloucester strugglight-emitting diode and waved about in horror, as if hed been snatched up by or so heavy(p) bird of prey instead of an large nitwit.Thither, there, utter drip, settleing to calm the octogenarian man the way sensation might try to settle a fright wingened horse. I gots you. total him away from the edge and set him down, snake oil, say I. Lord Gloucester, this is Pocket, Lears fool. Were going to manoeuvre you to shelter and bandage your wounds. King Lear will be there, too. skillful spot Drools hand.Get away, tell the earl. Your comforts ar in vain. I am lost. My sons a re scoundrels, my estate is forfeit. allow me f all(prenominal) in the moat and drown.Drool set the grey-headed man down and pointed him toward the moat. Go on, whence, milord.Grab him, Drool, you compact ninnyBut he t overage me to permit him drown, and hes an earl with a castle and the lot, and youre just now a fool, Pocket, so I got to do what he says.I strode forth, grabbed Gloucester and led him away from the edge. Hes not an earl e reallymore, lad. He has nothing only his cloak to harbor him from the rain, like us.Hes got nothing? tell Drool. Can I teach him to captivate so he passel be a fool?Lets corroborate him to shelter and see that he doesnt bleed to death first, then you can give him fool lessons.Were going to make a fool of ye, state Drool, clapping the old man on the back. Thatll be the dogs bollocks, wont it, milord? swim me, verbalize Gloucester.Being a fool is ever so much repair than being an earl, said Drool, far too cheery for a bleak-dismal twen ty-four hour period of post-maiming. You dont get a castle but you make people prank and they give you apples and sometimes one of the wenches or the sheeps will have a laugh with you. Its the mutts nuts,42 it is.I stopped and looked at my apprentice. Youve been having a laugh with sheep?Drool turn over his eyes toward the slate sky. No, I we have pie sometimes, too, when Bubble makes it. Youll like Bubble. Shes smashing.Gloucester seemed to lose all his will then, and let me lead him finished the walled town, fetching weak, halting steps. As we passed a bulky, one-half-timbered building I took to be barracks I heard someone call my name. I looked to see Curan, Lears captain, standing(a) under an awning. He waved us over and we stood with our backs hard to the wall to try to escape the rain.Is that the Earl of Gloucester? asked Curan.Aye, said I. I told Curan what had transpired inside the castle and out on the heath since Id last seen him.Gods blood, two wars. Cornwall dead. Who is master of our force, now?Mistress, said I. puzzle with Regan. The plan is as before.No, its not. We dont even know who her enemy is, Albany or France.Aye, but your action should be the same.Id give a months wages to be behind the blade that slays that bastard Edmund.At the mention of his son, Gloucester started cry again. Drown me I will fix no more Give me your make that I may run upon it and end my shame and miserySorry, I said to Curan. Hes been a bit of a weepy little Nancy to be around since they ripped his eyes out.Well, you might bandage him up. Bring him in. Hunters still with us. Hes right handy with a cauterizing iron.Let me end this suffering, wailed Gloucester. I can no longer endure the slings and arrows My lord Gloucester, would you please, by the fire-charred balls of St. George, shut the fuck upBit harsh, innit? said Curan.What, I said please.Still.Sorry, Gloucester, old chap. Most glorious hat.Hes not wearing a hat, said Curan.Well, hes blind, isnt he? If you hadnt said anything he might have enjoyed his bloody hat, mightnt he?The earl started wailing again. My sons are villains and I have no hat. He made to go on, but Drool clamped his great paw over the old mans mouth.Thanks, lad. Curan, do you have any food?Aye, Pocket, we can spare as much scar and give up as you can carry, and one of the men can scare up a flask of wine, too, Ill wager. His lordship has been most generous in providing us with fare, Curan said for the benefit of Gloucester. The old man began struggling against Drools grip.Oh, Curan, youve set him off again. Hurry, if you please. Weve got to discern Lear and head to Dover.Dover it is, then? Youll join with France?Aye, bloody King Jeff, great froggy, monkey-named, woman-stealing p formerly that he is.Youre fond of him, then?Oh do piss off, captain. Just see to it that whatever force Regan might send after us doesnt catch us. Dont mutiny, just make your way to Dover east, then south. Ill get by Lear south, t hen east.Let me come with you, Pocket. The major power needs more protective cover than two fools and a blind man.The old knight Caius is with the king. You will help the king best by serving his plan here. Not strictly true, but would he have make his duty if he thinking his commander a fool? I think not.Aye, then, Ill get your food, said Curan.When we arrived at the hovel, Tom OBedlam stood outside, naked in the rain, shinnying.That barking bloke is naked, said Drool, for once not singing praise to St. Obvious, as we were actually traveling with a blind fellow.Aye, but the question is, is he naked because hes barking, or is he barking because hes naked? I asked.Im hungry, said Drool, his mind overchallenged.Poor Tom is refrigerated and cursed, said Tom in the midst of barking fits, and for the first time seeing him in daylight and mostly clean, I was taken aback. Without the coat of mud, Tom looked familiar. very(prenominal) familiar. Tom OBedlam was, in fact, Edgar of Gloucester, the earls legitimate son.Tom, why are you out here?Poor Tom, that old knight Caius said he had to stand in the rain until he was clean and didnt stink anymore.And did he tell you to bark and talk about yourself in the third person?No, I notion up that bit on my own.Come inside, Tom. Help Drool with this old fellow.Tom looked at Gloucester for the first time and his eyes went wide and he sank to his knees. By the cruelty of the gods, said he. Hes blind.I put in my hand on his shoulder and whispered, Be steadfast, Edgar, your suffer needs your help. In that moment a light came into his eye like a spark of sanity travel and he nodded and stood up, taking the earls arm. Shall a madman rise to lead the blind.Come, adept sir, said Edgar. Tom is mad, but he is not beyond aiding a stranger in distress.Just let me die said Gloucester, exhausting to push Edgar away. Give me a rope so I may stretch my neck until my breath is gone.He does that a lot, I said.I opened the door, expecting to see Lear and Kent inside, but the hovel was empty, and the fire had died down to embers. Tom, where is the king?He and his knight set out for Dover.Without me?The king was mad to be back in the storm. Twas the old knight said to tell you they were headed for Dover.Here, here, obtain the earl inside. I stood aside and let Edgar coax his father into the cabin. Drool, throw some wood on the fire. We can stay only long comely to eat and dry out. We must be after the king.Drool ducked through the door and spotted Jones sitting on a bench by the fire where I had left him. Jones My friend, said the dolt. He picked up the fauna stick and hugged it. Drool is somewhat unclear on the art of ventriloquism, and although I have explained to him that Jones speaks only through me, he has developed an attachment to the fauna.Hello, Drool, you great sawdust-brained buffoon. Put me down and stoke the fire, said Jones.Drool tucked the beast stick in his belt and began breaking up kind ling with a hatchet by the hearth while I portioned out the bread and cheese that Curan had given us. Edgar did his best to bandage Gloucesters eyes and the old man settled down enough to eat some cheese and sup a little wine. Unfortunately, the wine and the blood loss, no doubt, took the earl from inconsolable wailing grief to a soul-smothering, sable-colored melancholy.My wife died thinking me a whoremonger, my father conception me damned for not following his faith, and my sons are both villains. I sentiment for a turn that Edmund might have redeemed his bastardy by being good and true, by fighting infidels in the Crusade, but he is more of a traitor than his legitimate brother.Edgar is no traitor, I said to the old man. Even as I said it Edgar held a flip to his lips and signaled for me to speak no further. I nodded to show I knew his will and would not give his identity away. He could be Tom as long as he wished, or for as long as he needed, for all I cared, as long as he put on some bloody trousers. Edgar was always true to you, my lord. His treachery was all devised for your eyes by the bastard Edmund. It was two sons worth of unworthy done by one. Edgar may not be the sharpest arrow in the quiver, but he is no traitor.Edgar raised an eyebrow to me in question. Youll make no case for your intelligence sitting there naked and shivering when theres a fire and blankets you can fashion into warm robes, good Tom, said I.He rose from his fathers side and went over to the fire.Then it is I who have betrayed Edgar, said Gloucester. Oh, the gods have seen fit to rain misery down on me for my irregular heart. I have sent a good son into out-migration with hounds at his heels and left only the worms as heirs to my only estate this shrivel up blind proboscis. Oh, we are but soft and squishy bags of mortality whorl in a bin of sharp circumstance, leaking vitality until we collapse, flaccid, into our own despair. The old man began to wave his arms and be at at his brow, whipping himself into a frenzy, causing his bandages to unravel. Drool came over to the old man and wrapped his arms around him to think about him steady.Its all right, milord, said Drool. You aint leakin hardly at all.Let me send this broken house to ruin and rot in deaths perennial cold. Let me shuffle off this mortal coil my sons betrayed, my king usurped, my estates seized let me end this tortureHe really was making a very good argument.Then the earl grabbed Jones and tore him out of Drools belt. Give me your sword, good knightEdgar made to stop his father and I threw out an arm to hold him back a toss of my head stopped Drool from interceding.The old man stood, put the stick end of Jones under his rib cage, then fell forward onto the dirt floor. The breath shot from his body and he wheezed in pain. My cup of wine had been warming by the fire and I threw it on Gloucesters chest.I am slain, croaked the earl, fighting for breath. The lifeblood runs from me eve n now. Bury my body on the hill looking down upon Castle Gloucester. And beg amnesty of my son Edgar. I have wronged him.Edgar again tried to go to his father and I held him back. Drool was covering his mouth, trying not to laugh.I wax cold, cold, but at least I take my wrong-doings to my grave.You know, milord, I said. The evil that men do lives after them, the good is oft interred with their bones, or so Ive heard.Edgar, my boy, wherever you are, forgive me, forgive me The old man rolled on the floor, and seemed somewhat surprised when the sword on which he thought himself impaled fell away. Lear, forgive me that I did not serve you better side at that, said I. You can see his black soul climb from his body.Where? said Drool.A frantic finger to my lips silenced the Natural. Oh, great carrion birds are rending poor Gloucesters soul to tatters Oh, Fates revenge is upon him, he suffersI suffer said Gloucester.He is bound to the darkest depths of Hades Never to rise again. low-spir ited the abyss I go. Forever a stranger to light and warmth.Oh, cold and lonely death has taken him, said I. And a right scandal he was in life, likely hell be buggered by a trillion barb-dicked devils now.Cold and lonely Death has me, said the earl.No, it hasnt, said I.What?Youre not dead.Soon, then. Ive locomote on this cruel blade and my life runs rigorous and sticky between my fingers.Youve fallen on a puppet, said I.No, I havent. Its a sword. I took it from that soldier.You took my puppet stick from my apprentice. Youve thrown yourself on a puppet.You knave, Pocket, youre not authoritative and would jest at a man even as his life drains. Where is that naked madman who was helping me?You threw yourself on a puppet, said Edgar.So Im not dead?Correct, said I.I threw myself on a puppet?That is what Ive been saying.You are a wicked little man, Pocket.So, milord, how do you feel, now that youve returned from the dead.The old man stood up and tasted the wine on his fingers. Better , said he.Good. Then let me present Edgar of Gloucester, the erstwhile naked wacko, who shall see you to Dover and your king.Hello, Father, said Edgar.They embraced. there was crying and begging for amnesty and filial snogging and overall the strong business was somewhat nauseating. A moment of quiet sobbing by the two men passed before the earl resumed his wailing.Oh, Edgar, I have wronged thee and no forgiveness from you can undo my wretchedness.Oh for fucks sake, said I. Come, Drool, let us go get hold Lear and on to Dover and the sanctuary of the bloody fucking French.But the storm still rages, said Edgar.Ive been wandering in this storm for days. Im as wet and cold as I know how to get, and no doubt a fever will descend any hour now and wardrobe my delicate form with heavy heat, but by the rug-munching balls of Sappho, Ill not make pass another hour listening to a blind old nutter wail on about his wrong-doings when theres a stack of wrongs yet to be done. Carpe diem, Ed gar. Carpe diem.Fish of the day? said the rightful heir to the earldom of Gloucester.Yes, thats it. Im invoking the fish of the bloody day, you git. I liked you better when you were eating frogs and seeing demons and the lot. Drool, leave them half the food and wrap yourself as warm as you can. Were off to materialise the king. Well see you lot in Dover.