|
2
Enter Kent, Gloucester, and Edmund. [Kent and Gloucester converse. Edmund stands back.]
4
I thought the King had more affected the Duke of Albany than
7
It did always seem so to us; but now, in the division of the
8
kingdom, it appears not which of the Dukes he values most, for
9
equalities are so weigh'd that curiosity in neither can make
10
choice of either's moiety.
12
Is not this your son, my lord?
14
His breeding, sir, hath been at my charge. I have so often
15
blush'd to acknowledge him that now I am braz'd to't.
17
I cannot conceive you.
19
Sir, this young fellow's mother could; whereupon she grew
20
round-womb'd, and had indeed, sir, a son for her cradle ere she
21
had a husband for her bed. Do you smell a fault?
23
I cannot wish the fault undone, the issue of it being so
26
But I have, sir, a son by order of law, some year elder than
27
this, who yet is no dearer in my account. Though this knave came
28
something saucily into the world before he was sent for, yet was
29
his mother fair, there was good sport at his making, and the
30
whoreson must be acknowledged.- Do you know this noble gentleman,
33
[comes forward]No, my lord.
35
My Lord of Kent. Remember him hereafter as my honourable
38
My services to your lordship.
40
I must love you, and sue to know you better.
42
Sir, I shall study deserving.
44
He hath been out nine years, and away he shall again.
47
Enter one bearing a coronet; then Lear; then the Dukes of Albany and Cornwall; next, Goneril, Regan, Cordelia, with Followers.
49
Attend the lords of France and Burgundy, Gloucester.
52
Exeunt [Gloucester and Edmund].
54
Meantime we shall express our darker purpose.
55
Give me the map there. Know we have divided
56
In three our kingdom; and 'tis our fast intent
57
To shake all cares and business from our age,
58
Conferring them on younger strengths while we
59
Unburthen'd crawl toward death. Our son of Cornwall,
60
And you, our no less loving son of Albany,
61
We have this hour a constant will to publish
62
Our daughters' several dowers, that future strife
63
May be prevented now. The princes, France and Burgundy,
64
Great rivals in our youngest daughter's love,
65
Long in our court have made their amorous sojourn,
66
And here are to be answer'd. Tell me, my daughters
67
(Since now we will divest us both of rule,
68
Interest of territory, cares of state),
69
Which of you shall we say doth love us most?
70
That we our largest bounty may extend
71
Where nature doth with merit challenge. Goneril,
72
Our eldest-born, speak first.
74
Sir, I love you more than words can wield the matter;
75
Dearer than eyesight, space, and liberty;
76
Beyond what can be valued, rich or rare;
77
No less than life, with grace, health, beauty, honour;
78
As much as child e'er lov'd, or father found;
79
A love that makes breath poor, and speech unable.
80
Beyond all manner of so much I love you.
82
[aside]What shall Cordelia speak? Love, and be silent.
84
Of all these bounds, even from this line to this,
85
With shadowy forests and with champains rich'd,
86
With plenteous rivers and wide-skirted meads,
87
We make thee lady. To thine and Albany's issue
88
Be this perpetual.- What says our second daughter,
89
Our dearest Regan, wife to Cornwall? Speak.
92
Of the selfsame metal that my sister is,
93
And prize me at her worth. In my true heart
94
I find she names my very deed of love;
95
Only she comes too short, that I profess
96
Myself an enemy to all other joys
97
Which the most precious square of sense possesses,
98
And find I am alone felicitate
99
In your dear Highness' love.
101
[aside]Then poor Cordelia!
102
And yet not so; since I am sure my love's
103
More richer than my tongue.
105
To thee and thine hereditary ever
106
Remain this ample third of our fair kingdom,
107
No less in space, validity, and pleasure
108
Than that conferr'd on Goneril.- Now, our joy,
109
Although the last, not least; to whose young love
110
The vines of France and milk of Burgundy
111
Strive to be interest; what can you say to draw
112
A third more opulent than your sisters? Speak.
120
Nothing can come of nothing. Speak again.
122
Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave
123
My heart into my mouth. I love your Majesty
124
According to my bond; no more nor less.
126
How, how, Cordelia? Mend your speech a little,
127
Lest it may mar your fortunes.
130
You have begot me, bred me, lov'd me; I
131
Return those duties back as are right fit,
132
Obey you, love you, and most honour you.
133
Why have my sisters husbands, if they say
134
They love you all? Haply, when I shall wed,
135
That lord whose hand must take my plight shall carry
136
Half my love with him, half my care and duty.
137
Sure I shall never marry like my sisters,
138
To love my father all.
140
But goes thy heart with this?
144
So young, and so untender?
146
So young, my lord, and true.
148
Let it be so! thy truth then be thy dower!
149
For, by the sacred radiance of the sun,
150
The mysteries of Hecate and the night;
151
By all the operation of the orbs
152
From whom we do exist and cease to be;
153
Here I disclaim all my paternal care,
154
Propinquity and property of blood,
155
And as a stranger to my heart and me
156
Hold thee from this for ever. The barbarous Scythian,
157
Or he that makes his generation messes
158
To gorge his appetite, shall to my bosom
159
Be as well neighbour'd, pitied, and reliev'd,
160
As thou my sometime daughter.
165
Come not between the dragon and his wrath.
166
I lov'd her most, and thought to set my rest
167
On her kind nursery.- Hence and avoid my sight!-
168
So be my grave my peace as here I give
169
Her father's heart from her! Call France! Who stirs?
170
Call Burgundy! Cornwall and Albany,
171
With my two daughters' dowers digest this third;
172
Let pride, which she calls plainness, marry her.
173
I do invest you jointly in my power,
174
Preeminence, and all the large effects
175
That troop with majesty. Ourself, by monthly course,
176
With reservation of an hundred knights,
177
By you to be sustain'd, shall our abode
178
Make with you by due turns. Only we still retain
179
The name, and all th' additions to a king. The sway,
180
Revenue, execution of the rest,
181
Beloved sons, be yours; which to confirm,
182
This coronet part betwixt you.
185
Whom I have ever honour'd as my king,
186
Lov'd as my father, as my master follow'd,
187
As my great patron thought on in my prayers-
189
The bow is bent and drawn; make from the shaft.
191
Let it fall rather, though the fork invade
192
The region of my heart! Be Kent unmannerly
193
When Lear is mad. What wouldst thou do, old man?
194
Think'st thou that duty shall have dread to speak
195
When power to flattery bows? To plainness honour's bound
196
When majesty falls to folly. Reverse thy doom;
197
And in thy best consideration check
198
This hideous rashness. Answer my life my judgment,
199
Thy youngest daughter does not love thee least,
200
Nor are those empty-hearted whose low sound
201
Reverbs no hollowness.
203
Kent, on thy life, no more!
205
My life I never held but as a pawn
206
To wage against thine enemies; nor fear to lose it,
207
Thy safety being the motive.
211
See better, Lear, and let me still remain
212
The true blank of thine eye.
217
Thou swear'st thy gods in vain.
219
O vassal! miscreant![Lays his hand on his sword.]
221
[with Cornwall]Dear sir, forbear!
224
Kill thy physician, and the fee bestow
225
Upon the foul disease. Revoke thy gift,
226
Or, whilst I can vent clamour from my throat,
227
I'll tell thee thou dost evil.
230
On thine allegiance, hear me!
231
Since thou hast sought to make us break our vow-
232
Which we durst never yet- and with strain'd pride
233
To come between our sentence and our power,-
234
Which nor our nature nor our place can bear,-
235
Our potency made good, take thy reward.
236
Five days we do allot thee for provision
237
To shield thee from diseases of the world,
238
And on the sixth to turn thy hated back
239
Upon our kingdom. If, on the tenth day following,
240
Thy banish'd trunk be found in our dominions,
241
The moment is thy death. Away! By Jupiter,
242
This shall not be revok'd.
244
Fare thee well, King. Since thus thou wilt appear,
245
Freedom lives hence, and banishment is here.
246
[To Cordelia]The gods to their dear shelter take thee, maid,
247
That justly think'st and hast most rightly said!
248
[To Regan and Goneril]And your large speeches may your deeds
250
That good effects may spring from words of love.
251
Thus Kent, O princes, bids you all adieu;
252
He'll shape his old course in a country new.[Exit.]
253
Flourish. Enter Gloucester, with France and Burgundy; Attendants.
255
Here's France and Burgundy, my noble lord.
258
We first address toward you, who with this king
259
Hath rivall'd for our daughter. What in the least
260
Will you require in present dower with her,
261
Or cease your quest of love?
264
I crave no more than hath your Highness offer'd,
265
Nor will you tender less.
267
Right noble Burgundy,
268
When she was dear to us, we did hold her so;
269
But now her price is fall'n. Sir, there she stands.
270
If aught within that little seeming substance,
271
Or all of it, with our displeasure piec'd,
272
And nothing more, may fitly like your Grace,
273
She's there, and she is yours.
277
Will you, with those infirmities she owes,
278
Unfriended, new adopted to our hate,
279
Dow'r'd with our curse, and stranger'd with our oath,
280
Take her, or leave her?
282
Pardon me, royal sir.
283
Election makes not up on such conditions.
285
Then leave her, sir; for, by the pow'r that made me,
286
I tell you all her wealth.[To France]For you, great King,
287
I would not from your love make such a stray
288
To match you where I hate; therefore beseech you
289
T' avert your liking a more worthier way
290
Than on a wretch whom nature is asham'd
291
Almost t' acknowledge hers.
293
This is most strange,
294
That she that even but now was your best object,
295
The argument of your praise, balm of your age,
296
Most best, most dearest, should in this trice of time
297
Commit a thing so monstrous to dismantle
298
So many folds of favour. Sure her offence
299
Must be of such unnatural degree
300
That monsters it, or your fore-vouch'd affection
301
Fall'n into taint; which to believe of her
302
Must be a faith that reason without miracle
303
Should never plant in me.
305
I yet beseech your Majesty,
306
If for I want that glib and oily art
307
To speak and purpose not, since what I well intend,
308
I'll do't before I speak- that you make known
309
It is no vicious blot, murther, or foulness,
310
No unchaste action or dishonoured step,
311
That hath depriv'd me of your grace and favour;
312
But even for want of that for which I am richer-
313
A still-soliciting eye, and such a tongue
314
As I am glad I have not, though not to have it
315
Hath lost me in your liking.
318
Hadst not been born than not t' have pleas'd me better.
320
Is it but this- a tardiness in nature
321
Which often leaves the history unspoke
322
That it intends to do? My Lord of Burgundy,
323
What say you to the lady? Love's not love
324
When it is mingled with regards that stands
325
Aloof from th' entire point. Will you have her?
326
She is herself a dowry.
329
Give but that portion which yourself propos'd,
330
And here I take Cordelia by the hand,
333
Nothing! I have sworn; I am firm.
335
I am sorry then you have so lost a father
336
That you must lose a husband.
338
Peace be with Burgundy!
339
Since that respects of fortune are his love,
340
I shall not be his wife.
342
Fairest Cordelia, that art most rich, being poor;
343
Most choice, forsaken; and most lov'd, despis'd!
344
Thee and thy virtues here I seize upon.
345
Be it lawful I take up what's cast away.
346
Gods, gods! 'tis strange that from their cold'st neglect
347
My love should kindle to inflam'd respect.
348
Thy dow'rless daughter, King, thrown to my chance,
349
Is queen of us, of ours, and our fair France.
350
Not all the dukes in wat'rish Burgundy
351
Can buy this unpriz'd precious maid of me.
352
Bid them farewell, Cordelia, though unkind.
353
Thou losest here, a better where to find.
355
Thou hast her, France; let her be thine; for we
356
Have no such daughter, nor shall ever see
357
That face of hers again. Therefore be gone
358
Without our grace, our love, our benison.
359
Come, noble Burgundy.
360
Flourish. Exeunt Lear, Burgundy, [Cornwall, Albany, Gloucester, and Attendants].
362
Bid farewell to your sisters.
364
The jewels of our father, with wash'd eyes
365
Cordelia leaves you. I know you what you are;
366
And, like a sister, am most loath to call
367
Your faults as they are nam'd. Use well our father.
368
To your professed bosoms I commit him;
369
But yet, alas, stood I within his grace,
370
I would prefer him to a better place!
371
So farewell to you both.
373
Prescribe not us our duties.
376
Be to content your lord, who hath receiv'd you
377
At fortune's alms. You have obedience scanted,
378
And well are worth the want that you have wanted.
380
Time shall unfold what plighted cunning hides.
381
Who cover faults, at last shame them derides.
382
Well may you prosper!
384
Come, my fair Cordelia.
385
Exeunt France and Cordelia.
387
Sister, it is not little I have to say of what most nearly
388
appertains to us both. I think our father will hence to-night.
390
That's most certain, and with you; next month with us.
392
You see how full of changes his age is. The observation we
393
have made of it hath not been little. He always lov'd our
394
sister most, and with what poor judgment he hath now cast her
395
off appears too grossly.
397
'Tis the infirmity of his age; yet he hath ever but slenderly
400
The best and soundest of his time hath been but rash; then
401
must we look to receive from his age, not alone the
402
imperfections of long-ingraffed condition, but therewithal
403
the unruly waywardness that infirm and choleric years bring with
406
Such unconstant starts are we like to have from him as this
407
of Kent's banishment.
409
There is further compliment of leave-taking between France and
410
him. Pray you let's hit together. If our father carry authority
411
with such dispositions as he bears, this last surrender of his
414
We shall further think on't.
416
We must do something, and i' th' heat.
1
The Earl of Gloucester’s Castle.
2
Enter [Edmund the] Bastard solus, [with a letter].
4
Thou, Nature, art my goddess; to thy law
5
My services are bound. Wherefore should I
6
Stand in the plague of custom, and permit
7
The curiosity of nations to deprive me,
8
For that I am some twelve or fourteen moonshines
9
Lag of a brother? Why bastard? wherefore base?
10
When my dimensions are as well compact,
11
My mind as generous, and my shape as true,
12
As honest madam's issue? Why brand they us
13
With base? with baseness? bastardy? base, base?
14
Who, in the lusty stealth of nature, take
15
More composition and fierce quality
16
Than doth, within a dull, stale, tired bed,
17
Go to th' creating a whole tribe of fops
18
Got 'tween asleep and wake? Well then,
19
Legitimate Edgar, I must have your land.
20
Our father's love is to the bastard Edmund
21
As to th' legitimate. Fine word- 'legitimate'!
22
Well, my legitimate, if this letter speed,
23
And my invention thrive, Edmund the base
24
Shall top th' legitimate. I grow; I prosper.
25
Now, gods, stand up for bastards!
28
Kent banish'd thus? and France in choler parted?
29
And the King gone to-night? subscrib'd his pow'r?
30
Confin'd to exhibition? All this done
31
Upon the gad? Edmund, how now? What news?
33
So please your lordship, none.
36
Why so earnestly seek you to put up that letter?
38
I know no news, my lord.
40
What paper were you reading?
44
No? What needed then that terrible dispatch of it into your
45
pocket? The quality of nothing hath not such need to hide
46
itself. Let's see. Come, if it be nothing, I shall not need
49
I beseech you, sir, pardon me. It is a letter from my brother
50
that I have not all o'er-read; and for so much as I have
51
perus'd, I find it not fit for your o'erlooking.
53
Give me the letter, sir.
55
I shall offend, either to detain or give it. The contents, as
56
in part I understand them, are to blame.
60
I hope, for my brother's justification, he wrote this but as
61
an essay or taste of my virtue.
63
[reads]'This policy and reverence of age makes the world
64
bitter to the best of our times; keeps our fortunes from us
65
till our oldness cannot relish them. I begin to find an idle
66
and fond bondage in the oppression of aged tyranny, who sways,
67
not as it hath power, but as it is suffer'd. Come to me, that
68
of this I may speak more. If our father would sleep till I
69
wak'd him, you should enjoy half his revenue for ever, and live
70
the beloved of your brother,
72
Hum! Conspiracy? 'Sleep till I wak'd him, you should enjoy half
73
his revenue.' My son Edgar! Had he a hand to write this? a heart
74
and brain to breed it in? When came this to you? Who brought it?
76
It was not brought me, my lord: there's the cunning of it. I
77
found it thrown in at the casement of my closet.
79
You know the character to be your brother's?
81
If the matter were good, my lord, I durst swear it were his;
82
but in respect of that, I would fain think it were not.
86
It is his hand, my lord; but I hope his heart is not in the
89
Hath he never before sounded you in this business?
91
Never, my lord. But I have heard him oft maintain it to be fit
92
that, sons at perfect age, and fathers declining, the father
93
should be as ward to the son, and the son manage his revenue.
95
O villain, villain! His very opinion in the letter! Abhorred
96
villain! Unnatural, detested, brutish villain! worse than
97
brutish! Go, sirrah, seek him. I'll apprehend him. Abominable
100
I do not well know, my lord. If it shall please you to suspend
101
your indignation against my brother till you can derive from him
102
better testimony of his intent, you should run a certain course;
103
where, if you violently proceed against him, mistaking his
104
purpose, it would make a great gap in your own honour and shake
105
in pieces the heart of his obedience. I dare pawn down my life
106
for him that he hath writ this to feel my affection to your
107
honour, and to no other pretence of danger.
111
If your honour judge it meet, I will place you where you shall
112
hear us confer of this and by an auricular assurance have your
113
satisfaction, and that without any further delay than this very
116
He cannot be such a monster.
120
To his father, that so tenderly and entirely loves him.
121
Heaven and earth! Edmund, seek him out; wind me into him, I pray
122
you; frame the business after your own wisdom. I would unstate
123
myself to be in a due resolution.
125
I will seek him, sir, presently; convey the business as I
126
shall find means, and acquaint you withal.
128
These late eclipses in the sun and moon portend no good to
129
us. Though the wisdom of nature can reason it thus and thus, yet
130
nature finds itself scourg'd by the sequent effects. Love cools,
131
friendship falls off, brothers divide. In cities, mutinies; in
132
countries, discord; in palaces, treason; and the bond crack'd
133
'twixt son and father. This villain of mine comes under the
134
prediction; there's son against father: the King falls from bias
135
of nature; there's father against child. We have seen the best
136
of our time. Machinations, hollowness, treachery, and all
137
ruinous disorders follow us disquietly to our graves. Find out
138
this villain, Edmund; it shall lose thee nothing; do it
139
carefully. And the noble and true-hearted Kent banish'd! his
140
offence, honesty! 'Tis strange.[Exit.]
142
This is the excellent foppery of the world, that, when we are
143
sick in fortune, often the surfeit of our own behaviour, we make
144
guilty of our disasters the sun, the moon, and the stars; as if
145
we were villains on necessity; fools by heavenly compulsion;
146
knaves, thieves, and treachers by spherical pre-dominance;
147
drunkards, liars, and adulterers by an enforc'd obedience of
148
planetary influence; and all that we are evil in, by a divine
149
thrusting on. An admirable evasion of whore-master man, to lay
150
his goatish disposition to the charge of a star! My father
151
compounded with my mother under the Dragon's Tail, and my
152
nativity was under Ursa Major, so that it follows I am rough and
153
lecherous. Fut! I should have been that I am, had the
154
maidenliest star in the firmament twinkled on my bastardizing.
157
and pat! he comes, like the catastrophe of the old comedy. My
158
cue is villainous melancholy, with a sigh like Tom o' Bedlam.
159
O, these eclipses do portend these divisions! Fa, sol, la, mi.
161
How now, brother Edmund? What serious contemplation are you
164
I am thinking, brother, of a prediction I read this other day,
165
what should follow these eclipses.
167
Do you busy yourself with that?
169
I promise you, the effects he writes of succeed unhappily: as
170
of unnaturalness between the child and the parent; death,
171
dearth, dissolutions of ancient amities; divisions in state,
172
menaces and maledictions against king and nobles; needless
173
diffidences, banishment of friends, dissipation of cohorts,
174
nuptial breaches, and I know not what.
176
How long have you been a sectary astronomical?
178
Come, come! When saw you my father last?
184
Ay, two hours together.
186
Parted you in good terms? Found you no displeasure in him by
191
Bethink yourself wherein you may have offended him; and at my
192
entreaty forbear his presence until some little time hath
193
qualified the heat of his displeasure, which at this instant so
194
rageth in him that with the mischief of your person it would
197
Some villain hath done me wrong.
199
That's my fear. I pray you have a continent forbearance till
200
the speed of his rage goes slower; and, as I say, retire with me
201
to my lodging, from whence I will fitly bring you to hear my
202
lord speak. Pray ye, go! There's my key. If you do stir abroad,
207
Brother, I advise you to the best. Go arm'd. I am no honest man
208
if there be any good meaning toward you. I have told you what I
209
have seen and heard; but faintly, nothing like the image and
210
horror of it. Pray you, away!
212
Shall I hear from you anon?
214
I do serve you in this business.
216
A credulous father! and a brother noble,
217
Whose nature is so far from doing harms
218
That he suspects none; on whose foolish honesty
219
My practices ride easy! I see the business.
220
Let me, if not by birth, have lands by wit;
221
All with me's meet that I can fashion fit.[Exit.]
1
The Duke of Albany’s Palace.
2
Enter Goneril and [her] Steward [Oswald].
4
Did my father strike my gentleman for chiding of his fool?
8
By day and night, he wrongs me! Every hour
9
He flashes into one gross crime or other
10
That sets us all at odds. I'll not endure it.
11
His knights grow riotous, and himself upbraids us
12
On every trifle. When he returns from hunting,
13
I will not speak with him. Say I am sick.
14
If you come slack of former services,
15
You shall do well; the fault of it I'll answer.
18
He's coming, madam; I hear him.
20
Put on what weary negligence you please,
21
You and your fellows. I'd have it come to question.
22
If he distaste it, let him to our sister,
23
Whose mind and mine I know in that are one,
24
Not to be overrul'd. Idle old man,
25
That still would manage those authorities
26
That he hath given away! Now, by my life,
27
Old fools are babes again, and must be us'd
28
With checks as flatteries, when they are seen abus'd.
29
Remember what I have said.
33
And let his knights have colder looks among you.
34
What grows of it, no matter. Advise your fellows so.
35
I would breed from hence occasions, and I shall,
36
That I may speak. I'll write straight to my sister
37
To hold my very course. Prepare for dinner.
1
The Duke of Albany’s Palace.
2
Enter Kent, [disguised].
4
If but as well I other accents borrow,
5
That can my speech defuse, my good intent
6
May carry through itself to that full issue
7
For which I raz'd my likeness. Now, banish'd Kent,
8
If thou canst serve where thou dost stand condemn'd,
9
So may it come, thy master, whom thou lov'st,
10
Shall find thee full of labours.
11
Horns within. Enter Lear,[Knights,]and Attendants.
13
Let me not stay a jot for dinner; go get it ready.[Exit
14
an Attendant.]How now? What art thou?
18
What dost thou profess? What wouldst thou with us?
20
I do profess to be no less than I seem, to serve him truly
21
that will put me in trust, to love him that is honest, to
22
converse with him that is wise and says little, to fear
23
judgment, to fight when I cannot choose, and to eat no fish.
27
A very honest-hearted fellow, and as poor as the King.
29
If thou be'st as poor for a subject as he's for a king, thou
30
art poor enough. What wouldst thou?
34
Who wouldst thou serve?
38
Dost thou know me, fellow?
40
No, sir; but you have that in your countenance which I would
47
What services canst thou do?
49
I can keep honest counsel, ride, run, mar a curious tale in
50
telling it and deliver a plain message bluntly. That which
51
ordinary men are fit for, I am qualified in, and the best of me
56
Not so young, sir, to love a woman for singing, nor so old to
57
dote on her for anything. I have years on my back forty-eight.
59
Follow me; thou shalt serve me. If I like thee no worse after
60
dinner, I will not part from thee yet. Dinner, ho, dinner!
61
Where's my knave? my fool? Go you and call my fool hither.
63
[Enter [Oswald the] Steward.]
64
You, you, sirrah, where's my daughter?
68
What says the fellow there? Call the clotpoll back.
69
[Exit a Knight.]Where's my fool, ho? I think the world's
72
How now? Where's that mongrel?
74
He says, my lord, your daughter is not well.
76
Why came not the slave back to me when I call'd him?
78
Sir, he answered me in the roundest manner, he would not.
82
My lord, I know not what the matter is; but to my judgment
83
your Highness is not entertain'd with that ceremonious affection
84
as you were wont. There's a great abatement of kindness appears
85
as well in the general dependants as in the Duke himself also
90
I beseech you pardon me, my lord, if I be mistaken; for
91
my duty cannot be silent when I think your Highness wrong'd.
93
Thou but rememb'rest me of mine own conception. I have
94
perceived a most faint neglect of late, which I have rather
95
blamed as mine own jealous curiosity than as a very pretence
96
and purpose of unkindness. I will look further into't. But
97
where's my fool? I have not seen him this two days.
99
Since my young lady's going into France, sir, the fool
100
hath much pined away.
102
No more of that; I have noted it well. Go you and tell my
103
daughter I would speak with her.[Exit Knight.]Go you, call
106
[Enter [Oswald the] Steward.]
107
O, you, sir, you! Come you hither, sir. Who am I, sir?
111
'My lady's father'? My lord's knave! You whoreson dog! you
114
I am none of these, my lord; I beseech your pardon.
116
Do you bandy looks with me, you rascal?
119
I'll not be strucken, my lord.
121
Nor tripp'd neither, you base football player?
124
I thank thee, fellow. Thou serv'st me, and I'll love thee.
126
Come, sir, arise, away! I'll teach you differences. Away,
127
away! If you will measure your lubber's length again, tarry; but
128
away! Go to! Have you wisdom? So.
131
Now, my friendly knave, I thank thee. There's earnest of thy
132
service.[Gives money.]
135
Let me hire him too. Here's my coxcomb.
136
[Offers Kent his cap.]
138
How now, my pretty knave? How dost thou?
140
Sirrah, you were best take my coxcomb.
144
Why? For taking one's part that's out of favour. Nay, an thou
145
canst not smile as the wind sits, thou'lt catch cold shortly.
146
There, take my coxcomb! Why, this fellow hath banish'd two on's
147
daughters, and did the third a blessing against his will. If
148
thou follow him, thou must needs wear my coxcomb.- How now,
149
nuncle? Would I had two coxcombs and two daughters!
153
If I gave them all my living, I'ld keep my coxcombs myself.
154
There's mine! beg another of thy daughters.
156
Take heed, sirrah- the whip.
158
Truth's a dog must to kennel; he must be whipp'd out, when
159
Lady the brach may stand by th' fire and stink.
161
A pestilent gall to me!
163
Sirrah, I'll teach thee a speech.
168
Have more than thou showest,
169
Speak less than thou knowest,
170
Lend less than thou owest,
171
Ride more than thou goest,
172
Learn more than thou trowest,
173
Set less than thou throwest;
174
Leave thy drink and thy whore,
176
And thou shalt have more
177
Than two tens to a score.
179
This is nothing, fool.
181
Then 'tis like the breath of an unfeed lawyer- you gave me
182
nothing for't. Can you make no use of nothing, nuncle?
184
Why, no, boy. Nothing can be made out of nothing.
186
[to Kent]Prithee tell him, so much the rent of his land
187
comes to. He will not believe a fool.
191
Dost thou know the difference, my boy, between a bitter
192
fool and a sweet fool?
196
That lord that counsell'd thee
197
To give away thy land,
198
Come place him here by me-
199
Do thou for him stand.
200
The sweet and bitter fool
201
Will presently appear;
202
The one in motley here,
203
The other found out there.
205
Dost thou call me fool, boy?
207
All thy other titles thou hast given away; that thou wast
210
This is not altogether fool, my lord.
212
No, faith; lords and great men will not let me. If I had a
213
monopoly out, they would have part on't. And ladies too, they
214
will not let me have all the fool to myself; they'll be
215
snatching. Give me an egg, nuncle, and I'll give thee two
218
What two crowns shall they be?
220
Why, after I have cut the egg i' th' middle and eat up the
221
meat, the two crowns of the egg. When thou clovest thy crown i'
222
th' middle and gav'st away both parts, thou bor'st thine ass on
223
thy back o'er the dirt. Thou hadst little wit in thy bald crown
224
when thou gav'st thy golden one away. If I speak like myself in
225
this, let him be whipp'd that first finds it so.
226
[Sings]Fools had ne'er less grace in a year,
227
For wise men are grown foppish;
228
They know not how their wits to wear,
229
Their manners are so apish.
231
When were you wont to be so full of songs, sirrah?
233
I have us'd it, nuncle, ever since thou mad'st thy daughters
234
thy mother; for when thou gav'st them the rod, and put'st down
236
[Sings]Then they for sudden joy did weep,
237
And I for sorrow sung,
238
That such a king should play bo-peep
239
And go the fools among.
240
Prithee, nuncle, keep a schoolmaster that can teach thy fool to
241
lie. I would fain learn to lie.
243
An you lie, sirrah, we'll have you whipp'd.
245
I marvel what kin thou and thy daughters are. They'll have me
246
whipp'd for speaking true; thou'lt have me whipp'd for lying;
247
and sometimes I am whipp'd for holding my peace. I had rather be
248
any kind o' thing than a fool! And yet I would not be thee,
249
nuncle. Thou hast pared thy wit o' both sides and left nothing
250
i' th' middle. Here comes one o' the parings.
253
How now, daughter? What makes that frontlet on? Methinks you
254
are too much o' late i' th' frown.
256
Thou wast a pretty fellow when thou hadst no need to care for
257
her frowning. Now thou art an O without a figure. I am better
258
than thou art now: I am a fool, thou art nothing.
259
[To Goneril]Yes, forsooth, I will hold my tongue. So your face
260
bids me, though you say nothing. Mum, mum!
261
He that keeps nor crust nor crum,
262
Weary of all, shall want some.-
263
[Points at Lear]That's a sheal'd peascod.
265
Not only, sir, this your all-licens'd fool,
266
But other of your insolent retinue
267
Do hourly carp and quarrel, breaking forth
268
In rank and not-to-be-endured riots. Sir,
269
I had thought, by making this well known unto you,
270
To have found a safe redress, but now grow fearful,
271
By what yourself, too, late have spoke and done,
272
That you protect this course, and put it on
273
By your allowance; which if you should, the fault
274
Would not scape censure, nor the redresses sleep,
275
Which, in the tender of a wholesome weal,
276
Might in their working do you that offence
277
Which else were shame, that then necessity
278
Must call discreet proceeding.
280
For you know, nuncle,
281
The hedge-sparrow fed the cuckoo so long
282
That it had it head bit off by it young.
283
So out went the candle, and we were left darkling.
285
Are you our daughter?
288
I would you would make use of that good wisdom
289
Whereof I know you are fraught, and put away
290
These dispositions that of late transform you
291
From what you rightly are.
293
May not an ass know when the cart draws the horse?
294
Whoop, Jug, I love thee!
296
Doth any here know me? This is not Lear.
297
Doth Lear walk thus? speak thus? Where are his eyes?
298
Either his notion weakens, his discernings
299
Are lethargied- Ha! waking? 'Tis not so!
300
Who is it that can tell me who I am?
304
I would learn that; for, by the marks of sovereignty,
305
Knowledge, and reason, I should be false persuaded
308
Which they will make an obedient father.
310
Your name, fair gentlewoman?
312
This admiration, sir, is much o' th' savour
313
Of other your new pranks. I do beseech you
314
To understand my purposes aright.
315
As you are old and reverend, you should be wise.
316
Here do you keep a hundred knights and squires;
317
Men so disorder'd, so debosh'd, and bold
318
That this our court, infected with their manners,
319
Shows like a riotous inn. Epicurism and lust
320
Make it more like a tavern or a brothel
321
Than a grac'd palace. The shame itself doth speak
322
For instant remedy. Be then desir'd
323
By her that else will take the thing she begs
324
A little to disquantity your train,
325
And the remainder that shall still depend
326
To be such men as may besort your age,
327
Which know themselves, and you.
330
Saddle my horses! Call my train together!
331
Degenerate bastard, I'll not trouble thee;
332
Yet have I left a daughter.
334
You strike my people, and your disorder'd rabble
335
Make servants of their betters.
338
Woe that too late repents!- O, sir, are you come?
339
Is it your will? Speak, sir!- Prepare my horses.
340
Ingratitude, thou marble-hearted fiend,
341
More hideous when thou show'st thee in a child
342
Than the sea-monster!
344
Pray, sir, be patient.
346
[to Goneril]Detested kite, thou liest!
347
My train are men of choice and rarest parts,
348
That all particulars of duty know
349
And in the most exact regard support
350
The worships of their name.- O most small fault,
351
How ugly didst thou in Cordelia show!
352
Which, like an engine, wrench'd my frame of nature
353
From the fix'd place; drew from my heart all love
354
And added to the gall. O Lear, Lear, Lear!
355
Beat at this gate that let thy folly in[Strikes his head.]
356
And thy dear judgment out! Go, go, my people.
358
My lord, I am guiltless, as I am ignorant
359
Of what hath mov'd you.
361
It may be so, my lord.
362
Hear, Nature, hear! dear goddess, hear!
363
Suspend thy purpose, if thou didst intend
364
To make this creature fruitful.
365
Into her womb convey sterility;
366
Dry up in her the organs of increase;
367
And from her derogate body never spring
368
A babe to honour her! If she must teem,
369
Create her child of spleen, that it may live
370
And be a thwart disnatur'd torment to her.
371
Let it stamp wrinkles in her brow of youth,
372
With cadent tears fret channels in her cheeks,
373
Turn all her mother's pains and benefits
374
To laughter and contempt, that she may feel
375
How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is
376
To have a thankless child! Away, away![Exit.]
378
Now, gods that we adore, whereof comes this?
380
Never afflict yourself to know the cause;
381
But let his disposition have that scope
382
That dotage gives it.
385
What, fifty of my followers at a clap?
388
What's the matter, sir?
390
I'll tell thee.[To Goneril]Life and death! I am asham'd
391
That thou hast power to shake my manhood thus;
392
That these hot tears, which break from me perforce,
393
Should make thee worth them. Blasts and fogs upon thee!
394
Th' untented woundings of a father's curse
395
Pierce every sense about thee!- Old fond eyes,
396
Beweep this cause again, I'll pluck ye out,
397
And cast you, with the waters that you lose,
398
To temper clay. Yea, is it come to this?
399
Let it be so. Yet have I left a daughter,
400
Who I am sure is kind and comfortable.
401
When she shall hear this of thee, with her nails
402
She'll flay thy wolvish visage. Thou shalt find
403
That I'll resume the shape which thou dost think
404
I have cast off for ever; thou shalt, I warrant thee.
405
Exeunt [Lear, Kent, and Attendants].
407
Do you mark that, my lord?
409
I cannot be so partial, Goneril,
410
To the great love I bear you—
412
Pray you, content.- What, Oswald, ho!
413
[To the Fool]You, sir, more knave than fool, after your master!
415
Nuncle Lear, nuncle Lear, tarry! Take the fool with thee.
416
A fox when one has caught her,
418
Should sure to the slaughter,
419
If my cap would buy a halter.
420
So the fool follows after.[Exit.]
422
This man hath had good counsel! A hundred knights?
423
'Tis politic and safe to let him keep
424
At point a hundred knights; yes, that on every dream,
425
Each buzz, each fancy, each complaint, dislike,
426
He may enguard his dotage with their pow'rs
427
And hold our lives in mercy.- Oswald, I say!
429
Well, you may fear too far.
431
Safer than trust too far.
432
Let me still take away the harms I fear,
433
Not fear still to be taken. I know his heart.
434
What he hath utter'd I have writ my sister.
435
If she sustain him and his hundred knights,
436
When I have show'd th' unfitness-[Enter [Oswald the] Steward.]
438
What, have you writ that letter to my sister?
442
Take you some company, and away to horse!
443
Inform her full of my particular fear,
444
And thereto add such reasons of your own
445
As may compact it more. Get you gone,
446
And hasten your return.[Exit Oswald.]No, no, my lord!
447
This milky gentleness and course of yours,
448
Though I condemn it not, yet, under pardon,
449
You are much more at task for want of wisdom
450
Than prais'd for harmful mildness.
452
How far your eyes may pierce I cannot tell.
453
Striving to better, oft we mar what's well.
457
Well, well; th' event.[Exeunt.]
1
Court before the Duke of Albany’s Palace. Enter Lear, Kent, and Fool.
3
Go you before to Gloucester with these letters. Acquaint my
4
daughter no further with anything you know than comes from her
5
demand out of the letter. If your diligence be not speedy, I
6
shall be there afore you.
8
I will not sleep, my lord, till I have delivered your letter.[Exit.]
10
If a man's brains were in's heels, were't not in danger of
15
Then I prithee be merry. Thy wit shall ne'er go slip-shod.
19
Shalt see thy other daughter will use thee kindly; for though
20
she's as like this as a crab's like an apple, yet I can tell
25
She'll taste as like this as a crab does to a crab. Thou
26
canst tell why one's nose stands i' th' middle on's face?
30
Why, to keep one's eyes of either side's nose, that what a
31
man cannot smell out, 'a may spy into.
35
Canst tell how an oyster makes his shell?
39
Nor I neither; but I can tell why a snail has a house.
43
Why, to put's head in; not to give it away to his daughters,
44
and leave his horns without a case.
46
I will forget my nature. So kind a father!- Be my horses
49
Thy asses are gone about 'em. The reason why the seven stars
50
are no moe than seven is a pretty reason.
52
Because they are not eight?
54
Yes indeed. Thou wouldst make a good fool.
56
To tak't again perforce! Monster ingratitude!
58
If thou wert my fool, nuncle, I'ld have thee beaten for being
63
Thou shouldst not have been old till thou hadst been wise.
65
O, let me not be mad, not mad, sweet heaven!
66
Keep me in temper; I would not be mad![Enter a Gentleman.]
67
How now? Are the horses ready?
73
She that's a maid now, and laughs at my departure,
74
Shall not be a maid long, unless things be cut shorter
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