King lear, p.8
King Lear, page 8
question, thou’dst well deserved it.
KENT Why, fool?
FOOL We’ll set thee to school to an ant to teach thee255
there’s no labouring i’th’winter. All that follow their noses
are led by their eyes but blind men, and there’s not a nose
among twenty but can smell him that’s stinking258. Let go thy
hold when a great wheel runs down a hill lest it break thy
neck with following: but the great one that goes upward, let
him draw thee after. When a wise man gives thee better
counsel, give me mine again262: I would have none but knaves
follow it, since a fool gives it.
Sings
That sir264 which serves and seeks for gain,
And follows but for form265,
Will pack266 when it begins to rain,
And leave thee in the storm.
But I will tarry, the fool will stay,
And let the wise man fly:
The knave turns fool that runs away,
The fool no knave, perdy271.
Enter Lear and Gloucester
KENT Where learned you this, fool?
FOOL Not i’th’stocks, fool.
LEAR Deny274 to speak with me? They are sick, they are weary,
They have travelled all the night? Mere fetches275,
The images of revolt and flying off276.
Fetch me a better answer.
GLOUCESTER My dear lord,
You know the fiery quality of the duke,
How unremovable and fixed he is
In his own course.
LEAR Vengeance, plague, death, confusion282!
Fiery? What quality? Why, Gloucester, Gloucester,
I’d speak with the Duke of Cornwall and his wife.
GLOUCESTER Well, my good lord, I have informed them so.
LEAR Informed them? Dost thou understand me, man?
GLOUCESTER Ay, my good lord.
LEAR The king would speak with Cornwall: the dear father
Would with his daughter speak, commands, tends289, service.
Are they informed of this? My breath and blood!
Fiery? The fiery duke? Tell the hot duke that —
No, but not yet: maybe he is not well.
Infirmity doth still neglect all office293
Whereto our health is bound: we are not ourselves
When nature, being oppressed295, commands the mind
To suffer with the body. I’ll forbear,
And am fallen out with my more headier will297,
To take the indisposed and sickly fit
Sees Kent
For the sound man. Death on my state299! Wherefore
Should he sit here? This act persuades me
That this remotion301 of the duke and her
Is practice only. Give me my servant forth302.
Go tell the duke and’s303 wife I’d speak with them,
Now, presently: bid them come forth and hear me,
Or at their chamber-door I’ll beat the drum
Till it cry sleep to death.
GLOUCESTER I would have all well betwixt you.
Exit
LEAR O me, my heart, my rising heart! But, down!
FOOL Cry to it, nuncle, as the cockney309 did to the eels when
she put ’em i’th’paste alive: she knapped ’em o’th’coxcombs310
with a stick and cried ‘Down, wantons311, down!’ ’Twas her
brother that, in pure kindness to his horse, buttered his hay312.
Enter Cornwall, Regan, Gloucester, Servants
LEAR Good morrow to you both.
CORNWALL Hail to your grace!
Kent here set at liberty
REGAN I am glad to see your highness.
LEAR Regan, I think you are. I know what reason
I have to think so: if thou shouldst not be glad,
I would divorce me from thy mother’s tomb,
To Kent
Sepulch’ring an adult’ress319.— O, are you free?
Some other time for that.— Belovèd Regan,
Thy sister’s naught321: O Regan, she hath tied
Sharp-toothed unkindness, like a vulture322, here.
Points to his heart
I can scarce speak to thee. Thou’lt not believe
With how depraved a quality — O Regan!
REGAN I pray you, sir, take patience: I have hope
You less know how to value her desert326
Than she to scant her duty.
LEAR Say? How is that?
REGAN I cannot think my sister in the least
Would fail her obligation: if, sir, perchance
She have restrained the riots of your followers,
’Tis on such ground and to such wholesome end
As clears her from all blame.
LEAR My curses on her!
REGAN O, sir, you are old:
Nature in you stands on the very verge336
Of her confine: you should be ruled and led
By some discretion that discerns your state338
Better than you yourself. Therefore, I pray you,
That to our sister you do make return:
Say you have wronged her.
LEAR Ask her forgiveness?
Do you but mark how this becomes the house343:
Dear daughter, I confess that I am old;
Kneels
Age is unnecessary345. On my knees I beg
That you’ll vouchsafe me raiment346, bed and food.
REGAN Good sir, no more: these are unsightly tricks:
Return you to my sister.
Rises
LEAR Never, Regan:
She hath abated350 me of half my train,
Looked black upon me, struck me with her tongue
Most serpent-like upon the very heart.
All the stored vengeances of heaven fall
On her ingrateful top354! Strike her young bones,
You taking355 airs, with lameness—
CORNWALL Fie, sir, fie!
LEAR You nimble lightnings, dart your blinding flames
Into her scornful eyes! Infect her beauty,
You fen-sucked fogs drawn by the powerful sun359
To fall and blister!
REGAN O the blest gods! So will you wish on me
When the rash mood is on.
LEAR No, Regan, thou shalt never have my curse:
Thy tender-hafted364 nature shall not give
Thee o’er to harshness. Her eyes are fierce, but thine
Do comfort and not burn. ’Tis not in thee
To grudge my pleasures, to cut off my train,
To bandy hasty words, to scant my sizes368,
And, in conclusion, to oppose the bolt369
Against my coming in: thou better know’st
The offices of nature371, bond of childhood,
Effects372 of courtesy, dues of gratitude:
Thy half o’th’kingdom hast thou not forgot,
Wherein I thee endowed.
Tucket within
REGAN Good sir, to th’purpose375.
LEAR Who put my man i’th’stocks?
Enter Steward [Oswald]
CORNWALL What trumpet’s that?
REGAN I know’t my sister’s: this approves378 her letter,
To Oswald
That she would soon be here.— Is your lady come?
LEAR This is a slave, whose easy-borrowed380 pride
Dwells in the sickly grace381 of her he follows.—
Out, varlet, from my sight!
CORNWALL What means your grace?
Enter Goneril
LEAR Who stocked my servant? Regan, I have good hope
Thou didst not know on’t385. Who comes here? O heavens,
If you do love old men, if your sweet sway386
Allow387 obedience, if you yourselves are old,
Make it your cause, send down, and take my part!—
To Goneril
Art not ashamed to look upon this beard389?—
O Regan, will you take her by the hand?
Regan and Goneril join hands
GONERIL Why not by th’hand, sir? How have I offended?
All’s not offence that indiscretion392 finds
And dotage terms so.
LEAR O sides394, you are too tough!
Will you yet hold?— How came my man i’th’stocks?
CORNWALL I set him there, sir: but his own disorders396
Deserved much less advancement397.
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 entertainment404.
LEAR Return to her? And fifty men dismissed?
No, rather I abjure406 all roofs, and choose
To wage against the enmity o’th’air407,
To be a comrade with the wolf and owl,
Necessity’s409 sharp pinch! Return with her?
Why, the hot-blooded France, that dowerless took
Our youngest born, I could as well be brought
To knee his throne and, squire-like, pension412 beg
To keep base life afoot413. Return with her?
Persuade me rather to be slave and sumpter414
To this detested groom415.
Points at Oswald
GONERIL At your choice, sir.
LEAR I prithee, daughter, do not make me mad.
I will not trouble thee, my child, farewell:
We’ll no more meet, no more see one another.
But yet thou art my flesh, my blood, my daughter —
Or rather a disease that’s in my flesh,
Which I must needs call mine: thou art a boil,
A plague-sore, or embossèd carbuncle423,
In my corrupted blood424. But I’ll not chide thee:
Let shame come when it will, I do not call it:
I do not bid the thunder-bearer shoot,
Nor tell tales of thee to high-judging Jove.
Mend428 when thou canst, be better at thy leisure:
I can be patient, I can stay with Regan,
I and my hundred knights.
REGAN Not altogether so:
I looked not for432 you yet, nor am provided
For your fit welcome. Give ear, sir, to my sister,
For those that mingle reason with your passion434
Must be content to think you old, and so —
But she knows what she does.
LEAR Is this well spoken?
REGAN I dare avouch438 it, sir: what, fifty followers?
Is it not well? What should you need of more?
Yea, or so many, sith that both charge and danger440
Speak gainst so great a number? How in one house
Should many people under two commands
Hold amity? ’Tis hard, almost impossible.
GONERIL Why might not you, my lord, receive attendance
From those that she calls servants, or from mine?
REGAN Why not, my lord? If then they chanced to slack ye446,
We could control447 them. 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 notice450.
LEAR I gave you all—
REGAN And in good time you gave it452.
LEAR Made you my guardians, my depositaries453,
But kept a reservation454 to be followed
With such a number. What, must I come to you
With five-and-twenty? Regan, said you so?
REGAN And speak’t again, my lord: no more with me.
LEAR Those wicked creatures yet do look well-favoured458
When others are more wicked: not being the worst
To Goneril
Stands in some rank of praise460.— 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?
LEAR O, reason not the need! Our basest beggars468
Are in the poorest thing superfluous:
Allow not470 nature more than nature needs,
Man’s life is cheap as beast’s. Thou art a lady;
If only to go warm were gorgeous472,
Why, nature needs not what thou gorgeous wear’st473,
Which scarcely keeps thee warm. But for true need —
You heavens, give me that patience, patience I need!
You see me here, you gods, a poor old man,
As full of grief as age, wretched in both.
If it be you that stirs these daughters’ hearts
Against their father, fool me not so much479
To bear it tamely: touch me with noble anger,
And let not women’s weapons, water drops,
Stain my man’s cheeks! No, you unnatural hags,
I will have such revenges on you both,
That all the world shall — I will do such things —
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,
Storm and tempest
But this heart shall break into a hundred thousand flaws488,
Or ere489 I’ll weep. O fool, I shall go mad!
Exeunt [Lear, Gloucester, Kent and Fool]
CORNWALL Let us withdraw: ’twill be a storm.
REGAN This house is little: the old man and’s491 people
Cannot be well bestowed492.
GONERIL ’Tis his own blame hath put himself from rest493
And must needs taste his folly.
REGAN For his particular495, I’ll receive him gladly,
But not one follower.
GONERIL So am I purposed.
Where is my lord of Gloucester?
Enter Gloucester
CORNWALL Followed the old man forth: he is returned.
GLOUCESTER The king is in high rage.
CORNWALL Whither is he going?
GLOUCESTER He calls to horse, but will502 I know not whither.
CORNWALL ’Tis best to give him way503: he leads himself.
GONERIL My lord, entreat him by no means to stay.
GLOUCESTER Alack, the night comes on, and the high winds
Do sorely ruffle506, for many miles about
There’s scarce a bush.
REGAN O, sir, to wilful men
The injuries that they themselves procure509
Must be their schoolmasters. Shut up your doors:
He is attended with a desperate train511,
And what they may incense him to, being apt
To have his ear abused513, wisdom bids fear.
CORNWALL Shut up your doors, my lord, ’tis a wild night.
My Regan counsels well: come out o’th’storm.
Exeunt
Act 3
Scene 1
running scene 6
Storm still. Enter Kent and a Gentleman, severally3
KENT Who’s there, besides foul weather?
GENTLEMAN One minded like the weather, most unquietly2.
KENT I know you. Where’s the king?
GENTLEMAN Contending4 with the fretful elements;
Bids the wind blow the earth into the sea
Or swell the curlèd waters ’bove the main6,
That things might change or cease.
KENT But who is with him?
GENTLEMAN None but the fool, who labours to out-jest9
His heart-struck injuries10.
KENT Sir, I do know you,
And dare, upon the warrant of my note12
Commend a dear thing to you13. There is division —
Although as yet the face of it is covered
With mutual cunning — ’twixt Albany and Cornwall,
Who have — as who have not, that their great stars16
Throned and set high? — servants, who seem no less17,
Which are to France the spies and speculations18
Intelligent of19 our state. What hath been seen,
Either in snuffs and packings20 of the dukes,
Or the hard rein which both of them hath borne21
Against the old kind king, or something deeper,
Whereof perchance these are but furnishings23.
GENTLEMAN I will talk further with you.
KENT No, do not.
For confirmation that I am much more
Than my out-wall27, open this purse and take
Gives a purse
What it contains. If you shall see Cordelia —
Gives a ring
As fear not but you shall — show her this ring,
And she will tell you who that fellow30 is
That yet you do not know. Fie on this storm!
I will go seek the king.
GENTLEMAN Give me your hand. Have you no more to say?
KENT Few words, but, to effect34, more than all yet:
That when we have found the king — in which your pain35
That way, I’ll this — he that first lights on him
Holla37 the other.
Exeunt [separately]
Act 3 Scene 2
running scene 6 continues
Storm still. Enter Lear and Fool
LEAR Blow winds and crack your cheeks! Rage, blow,
You cataracts and hurricanoes2, spout
Till you have drenched our steeples, drown the cocks3!
You sulphurous and thought-executing fires4,
Vaunt-couriers5 of oak-cleaving thunderbolts,
Singe my white head! And thou, all-shaking thunder,
Strike flat the thick rotundity o’th’world!
Crack nature’s moulds, all germens8 spill at once
That makes ingrateful man!
FOOL O, nuncle, court holy-water10 in a dry house is better
than this rain-water out o’door. Good nuncle, in, ask thy
daughters’ blessing: here’s a night pities neither wise men
