William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition (531 page)
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Authors: William Shakespeare
Tags: #Drama, #Literary Criticism, #Shakespeare
BOOK: William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition
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LEAR
Return to her, and fifty men dismissed?
No, rather I abjure all roofs, and choose
To be a comrade with the wolf and owl,
To wage against the enmity o’th’ air
Necessity’s 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, pension beg
To keep base life afoot. Return with her?
Persuade me rather to be slave and sumpter
To this detested groom.
No, rather I abjure all roofs, and choose
To be a comrade with the wolf and owl,
To wage against the enmity o’th’ air
Necessity’s 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, pension beg
To keep base life afoot. Return with her?
Persuade me rather to be slave and sumpter
To this detested groom.
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 embossed carbuncle
In my corrupted blood. 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.
Mend when thou canst; be better at thy leisure.
I can be patient, I can stay with Regan,
I and my hundred knights.
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 embossed carbuncle
In my corrupted blood. 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.
Mend 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 for you yet, nor am provided
For your fit welcome. Give ear, sir, to my sister;
For those that mingle reason with your passion
Must be content to think you old, and so—
But she knows what she does.
For your fit welcome. Give ear, sir, to my sister;
For those that mingle reason with your passion
Must be content to think you old, and so—
But she knows what she does.
LEAR
Is this well spoken?
REGAN
I dare avouch it, sir. What, fifty followers?
Is it not well? What should you need of more,
Yea, or so many, sith that both charge and danger
Speak ‘gainst so great a number? How in one house
Should many people under two commands
Hold amity? ’Tis hard, almost impossible.
Is it not well? What should you need of more,
Yea, or so many, sith that both charge and danger
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?
From those that she calls servants, or from mine?
REGAN
Why not, my lord? If then they chanced to slack ye,
We could control 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 notice.
We could control 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 notice.
LEAR I gave you all.
REGAN And in good time you gave it.
LEAR
Made you my guardians, my depositaries,
But kept a reservation to be followed
With such a number. What, must I come to you
With five-and-twenty? Regan, said you so?
But kept a reservation 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 favoured
When others are more wicked. Not being the worst
Stands in some rank of praise. (
To Goneril
) I’ll go with
thee.
Thy fifty yet doth double five-and-twenty,
And thou art twice her love.
When others are more wicked. Not being the worst
Stands in some rank of praise. (
To Goneril
) 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?
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 beggars
Are in the poorest thing superfluous.
Allow not nature more than nature needs,
Man’s life is cheap as beast’s. Thou art a lady.
If only to go warm were gorgeous,
Why, nature needs not what thou, gorgeous, wear’st,
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 much
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,
Are in the poorest thing superfluous.
Allow not nature more than nature needs,
Man’s life is cheap as beast’s. Thou art a lady.
If only to go warm were gorgeous,
Why, nature needs not what thou, gorgeous, wear’st,
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 much
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
flaws
Or ere I’ll weep.—O Fool, I shall go mad!
flaws
Or ere I’ll weep.—O Fool, I shall go mad!
Exeunt Lear, Fool, Gentleman, and Gloucester
CORNWALL
Let us withdraw. ’Twill be a storm.
REGAN
This house is little. The old man and ’s people
Cannot be well bestowed.
Cannot be well bestowed.
GONERIL
’Tis his own blame;
Hath put himself from rest, and must needs taste his folly.
REGAN
For his particular I’ll receive him gladly,
But not one follower.
But not one follower.
GONERIL
So am I purposed.
Where is my lord of Gloucester?
CORNWALL
Followed the old man forth.
⌈
Enter the Duke of Gloucester
⌉
He is returned.
GLOUCESTER
The King is in high rage.
CORNWALL
Whither is he going?
GLOUCESTER
He calls to horse, but will I know not whither.
CORNWALL
’Tis best to give him way. He leads himself.
GONERIL (
to Gloucester
)
to Gloucester
)
My lord, entreat him by no means to stay.
GLOUCESTER
Alack, the night comes on, and the high winds
Do sorely ruffle. For many miles about
There’s scarce a bush.
Do sorely ruffle. For many miles about
There’s scarce a bush.
REGAN
O sir, to wilful men
The injuries that they themselves procure
Must be their schoolmasters. Shut up your doors.
He is attended with a desperate train,
And what they may incense him to, being apt
To have his ear abused, wisdom bids fear.
Must be their schoolmasters. Shut up your doors.
He is attended with a desperate train,
And what they may incense him to, being apt
To have his ear abused, wisdom bids fear.
CORNWALL
Shut up your doors, my lord. ‘Tis a wild night.
My Regan counsels well. Come out o’th’ storm. Exeunt
3.1My Regan counsels well. Come out o’th’ storm. Exeunt
Storm still. Enter the Earl of Kent disguised and
⌈
the First
⌉
Gentleman, severally
KENT
Who’s there, besides foul weather?
⌈FIRST⌉ GENTLEMAN
One minded like the weather,
Most unquietly.
KENT
I know you. Where’s the King?
⌈FIRST⌉ GENTLEMAN
Contending with the fretful elements;
Bids the wind blow the earth into the sea
Or swell the curled waters ’bove the main,
That things might change or
cease.
Bids the wind blow the earth into the sea
Or swell the curled waters ’bove the main,
That things might change or
cease.
KENT
But who is with him?
⌈FIRST⌉ GENTLEMAN
None but the Fool, who labours to outjest
His heart-struck injuries.
His heart-struck injuries.
KENT
Sir, I do know you,
And dare upon the warrant of my note
Commend a dear thing to you. 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 stars
Throned and set high—servants, who seem no less,
Which are to France the spies and speculations
Intelligent of our state. What hath been seen,
Either in snuffs and packings of the Dukes,
Or the hard rein which both of them hath borne
Against the old kind King; or something deeper,
Whereof perchance these are but furnishings—
Commend a dear thing to you. 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 stars
Throned and set high—servants, who seem no less,
Which are to France the spies and speculations
Intelligent of our state. What hath been seen,
Either in snuffs and packings of the Dukes,
Or the hard rein which both of them hath borne
Against the old kind King; or something deeper,
Whereof perchance these are but furnishings—
⌈FIRST⌉ GENTLEMAN
I will talk further with you.
KENT
No, do not.
For confirmation that I am much more
Than my out-wall, open this purse, and take
What it contains. If you shall see Cordelia—
As fear not but you shall—show her this ring
And she will tell you who that fellow is
That yet you do not know. Fie on this storm!
I will go seek the King.
Than my out-wall, open this purse, and take
What it contains. If you shall see Cordelia—
As fear not but you shall—show her this ring
And she will tell you who that fellow is
That yet you do not know. Fie on this storm!
I will go seek the King.
⌈FIRST⌉ GENTLEMAN
Give me your hand. Have you no more to say?
KENT
Few words, but to effect more than all yet:
That when we have found the King—in which your
pain
That way, I’ll this—he that first lights on him
Holla the other.
That when we have found the King—in which your
pain
That way, I’ll this—he that first lights on him
Holla the other.
Exeunt severally
3.2Storm still. Enter King Lear and his Fool
LEAR
Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! Rage, blow,
You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout
Till you have drenched our steeples, drowned the
cocks!
You sulph‘rous and thought-executing fires,
Vaunt-couriers 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 germens spill at once
That makes ingrateful man.
You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout
Till you have drenched our steeples, drowned the
cocks!
You sulph‘rous and thought-executing fires,
Vaunt-couriers 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 germens spill at once
That makes ingrateful man.
FOOL O nuncle, court holy water 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 nor fools.
LEAR
Rumble thy bellyful; spit, fire; spout, rain.
Nor rain, wind, thunder, fire are my daughters.
I tax not you, you elements, with unkindness.
I never gave you kingdom, called you children.
You owe me no subscription. Then let fall
Your horrible pleasure. Here I stand your slave,
A poor, infirm, weak and despised old man,
But yet I call you servile ministers,
That will with two pernicious daughters join
Your high-engendered battles ‘gainst a head
So old and white as this. O, ho, ’tis foul!
Nor rain, wind, thunder, fire are my daughters.
I tax not you, you elements, with unkindness.
I never gave you kingdom, called you children.
You owe me no subscription. Then let fall
Your horrible pleasure. Here I stand your slave,
A poor, infirm, weak and despised old man,
But yet I call you servile ministers,
That will with two pernicious daughters join
Your high-engendered battles ‘gainst a head
So old and white as this. O, ho, ’tis foul!
FOOL He that has a house to put ’s head in has a good head-piece.
⌈
Sings
⌉
for there was never yet fair woman but she made mouths in a glass.
Sings
⌉
The codpiece that will house
Before the head has any,
The head and he shall louse,
So beggars marry many.
The man that makes his toe
What he his heart should make
Shall of a corn cry woe,
And turn his sleep to wake—
Enter the Earl of Kent disguised
LEAR
No, I will be the pattern of all patience.
I will say nothing.
I will say nothing.
KENT Who’s there?
FOOL Marry, here’s grace and a codpiece—that’s a wise man and a fool.
KENT (
to Lear
)
to Lear
)
Alas, sir, are you here? Things that love night
Love not such nights as these. The wrathful skies
Gallow the very wanderers of the dark
And make them keep their caves. Since I was man
Such sheets of fire, such bursts of horrid thunder,
Such groans of roaring wind and rain I never
Remember to have heard. Man’s nature cannot carry
Th’affliction nor the fear.
Love not such nights as these. The wrathful skies
Gallow the very wanderers of the dark
And make them keep their caves. Since I was man
Such sheets of fire, such bursts of horrid thunder,
Such groans of roaring wind and rain I never
Remember to have heard. Man’s nature cannot carry
Th’affliction nor the fear.
LEAR
Let the great gods,
That keep this dreadful pother o’er our heads,
Find out their enemies now. Tremble, thou wretch
That hast within thee undivulgèd crimes
Unwhipped of justice; hide thee, thou bloody hand,
Thou perjured and thou simular of virtue
That art incestuous; caitiff, to pieces shake,
That under covert and convenient seeming
Has practised on man’s life; close pent-up guilts,
Rive your concealing continents and cry
These dreadful summoners grace. I am a man
More sinned against than sinning.
Find out their enemies now. Tremble, thou wretch
That hast within thee undivulgèd crimes
Unwhipped of justice; hide thee, thou bloody hand,
Thou perjured and thou simular of virtue
That art incestuous; caitiff, to pieces shake,
That under covert and convenient seeming
Has practised on man’s life; close pent-up guilts,
Rive your concealing continents and cry
These dreadful summoners grace. I am a man
More sinned against than sinning.
KENT
Alack, bare-headed?
Gracious my lord, hard by here is a hovel.
Some friendship will it lend you ‘gainst the tempest.
Repose you there while I to this hard house—
More harder than the stones whereof ’tis raised,
Which even but now, demanding after you,
Denied me to come in—return and force
Their scanted courtesy.
Some friendship will it lend you ‘gainst the tempest.
Repose you there while I to this hard house—
More harder than the stones whereof ’tis raised,
Which even but now, demanding after you,
Denied me to come in—return and force
Their scanted courtesy.
LEAR
My wits begin to turn.
(
To Fool
) Come on, my boy. How dost, my boy? Art
cold?
I am cold myself.—Where is this straw, my fellow?
The art of our necessities is strange,
And can make vile things precious. Come, your hovel.—
Poor fool and knave, I have one part in my heart
That’s sorry yet for thee.
To Fool
) Come on, my boy. How dost, my boy? Art
cold?
I am cold myself.—Where is this straw, my fellow?
The art of our necessities is strange,
And can make vile things precious. Come, your hovel.—
Poor fool and knave, I have one part in my heart
That’s sorry yet for thee.
FOOL ⌈
Sings
⌉
Sings
⌉
He that has and a little tiny wit,
With heigh-ho, the wind and the rain,
Must make content with his fortunes fit,
Though the rain it raineth every day.
LEAR
True, boy. (
To Kent
) Come, bring us to this hovel.
To Kent
) Come, bring us to this hovel.
Exeunt Lear and Kent
FOOL This is a brave night to cool a courtesan. I’ll speak a prophecy ere I go:
When priests are more in word than matter;
When brewers mar their malt with water;
When nobles are their tailors’ tutors,
No heretics burned, but wenches’ suitors,
Then shall the realm of Albion
Come to great confusion.When every case in law is right;
No squire in debt nor no poor knight;
When slanders do not live in tongues,
Nor cutpurses come not to throngs;
When usurers tell their gold i‘th’ field,
And bawds and whores do churches build,
Then comes the time, who lives to see’t,
That going shall be used with feet.
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