« AnteriorContinuar »
And, by the happy hollow of a tree,
To do upon respect such violent outrage:
(1) Hair thus knotted, was supposed to be the work of elves and fairies in the night. (3) Curses.
Commanded me to follow, and attend
Fool. Winter's not gone yet, if the wild geese fly that way.
Fathers, that wear rags,
Do make their children blind;
Shall see their children kind.
Ne'er turns the key to the poor.But, for all this, thou shalt have as many dolours? for thy daughters, as thou canst tell in a year.
Lear. O, how this mother swells up toward my
Hysterica passio! down, thou climbing sorrow, Thy element's below!-Where is this daughter? Kent. With the earl, sir, here within.
Lear. Stay here.
Follow me not; [Exit.
Gent. Made you no more offence than what you speak of?
How chance the king comes with so small a train?
Fool. We'll set thee to school to an ant, to teach thee there's no labouring in the 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 stinking. Let go thy hold, when a great wheel runs down a hill, lest it break thy neck with following it; but the great one that goes up the hill, let him draw thee after. When a wise man gives thee better counsel, give me mine again: I would have none but knaves follow it, since a fool gives it.
That, sir, which serves and seeks for gain,
Will pack, when it begins to rain,
And leave thee in the storm.
But I will tarry, the fool will stay,
The knave turns fool, that runs away;
Kent. Where learn'd you this, fool?
Re-enter Lear, with Gloster.
Lear. Deny to speak with me? They are sick? they are weary?
They have travell'd hard to-night? Mere fetches;
Glo. Well, my good lord, I have inform'd them so. Lear. Inform'd them! Dost thou understand me, man?
Glo. Ay, my good lord.
Lear. The king would speak with Cornwall; the dear father
Would with his daughter speak, commands her service :
Do you but mark how this becomes the house :5
Look'd black upon me; struck me with her tongue,
Are they inform'd of this?-My breath and blood!-
Fie, fie, fie!
Glo. I'd have all well betwixt you. [Exit. Lear. O me, my heart, my rising heart!-but, down.
Fool. Cry to it, nuncle, as the cockney did to the eels, when she put them i'the pastes alive; she rapp'd 'em o'the coxcombs with a stick, and cry'd, Down, wantons, down: 'Twas her brother, that in pure kindness to his horse, butter'd the hay.
Enter Cornwall, Regan, Gloster, and Servants.
I have to think so: if thou should'st not be glad,
Some other time for that.-Beloved Regan,
'Tis on s'
As clears her from all blame.
Into her scornful eyes! Infect her beauty,
Thy tender-hefted nature shall not give
What trumpet's that?
Ask her forgiveness?
(3) Crust of a pye.
(1) Removing from their own house. (2) Artifice.
(4) Be wanting in.
Reg. 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 entertainment. Lear. Return to her, and fifty men dismiss'd? No, rather I abjure all roofs, and choose To wagel against the enmity o'the air; To be a comrade with the wolf and owl,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. [Looking on the Steward. Gon. At your choice, sir. Lear. I pr'ythee, 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, an embossed2 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. Reg. Not altogether so, sir; I look'd 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 soBut she knows what she does.
Should many people, under two commands,
Gon. Why might not you, my lord, receive attendance
From those that she calls servants, or from mine? Reg. Why not, my lord? If then they chanc'd
to slack you,
We could control them: If you will come to me
Lear. Those wicked creatures yet do look wellfavour'd, When others are more wicked; not being the worst, Stands in some rank of praise :-I'll go with thee; [To Goneril. Thy fifty yet doth double five and twenty, And thou art twice her love.
Gon. Hear me, my lord; What need you five and twenty, ten, or five,
(1) War. (2) Swelling. (3) Since. (4) Instigate.
To follow in a house, where twice so many
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,
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
You see me here, you gods, a poor
I have full cause of weeping; but this heart
[Exeunt Lear, Gloster, Kent, and Fool Corn. Let us withdraw, 'twill be a storm. [Storm heard at a distance. This house
Is little; the old man and his people cannot Be well bestow'd.
Corn. Follow'd the old man forth :-he is re
Corn. 'Tis best to give him way; he leads himself.
Gon. My lord, entreat him by no means to stay. Glo. Alack, the night comes on, and the bleak winds
Do sorely ruffle; for many miles about
Corn. Shut up your doors, my lord; 'tis a wild
My Regan counsels well come out o'the storm. [Exeunt
SCENE I-A heath. A storm is heard, with thunder and lightning. Enter Kent, and a Gentleman, meeting.
Kent. Who's here, beside foul weather?
Gent. One minded like the weather, most un- You cataracts, and hurricanoes, spout
Kent. I know you; where's the king?
Which the impetuous blasts, with eyeless rage,
Till you have drench'd our steeples, drown'd the cocks!
You sulphurous and thought-executing fires,
Strike flat the thick rotundity o'the world!
Fool. O nuncle, court holy-water in a dry house is better than this rain-water out o'door.-Good
This night, wherein the cub-drawn bear would nuncle, in and ask thy daughters' blessing: here's
The lion and the belly-pinched wolf
Keep their fur dry, unbonneted he runs,
And bids what will take all.
Sir, I do know you;
To make your speed to Dover, you shall find
I am a gentleman of blood and breeding;
Gent. I will talk further with you.
No, do not.
Gent. 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. [Exeunt severally. SCENE II.-Another part of the heath. Storm continues. Enter Lear and Fool.
Lear. Blow, wind, and crack your cheeks! rage!
a night pities neither wise men nor fools. Lear. Rumble thy bellyfull! Spit, fire! spout,
Nor rain, wind, thunder, fire, are my daughters:
The cod-piece that will house,
And turn his sleep to wake.
-for there was never yet fair woman, but she made mouths in a glass.
Love not such nights as these; the wrathful skies
The affliction, nor the fear.
Let the great gods,
(6) Quick as thought. (7) Avant couriers, French. (8) A proverbial phrase for fair words. (9) Obedience. (10) Scare or frighten. (11) Blustering noise. (12) Counterfeit. (13) Appearance. (14) Favour.
More sinn'd against, than sinning.
hovel, Poor fool and knave, I have one part in my heart That's sorry yet for thee.
Fool. He that has a little tiny wit,—
With heigh, ho, the wind and the rain,Must make content with his fortunes fit; For the rain it raineth every day.2
Lear. Thou think'st 'tis much, that this conten-
Invades us to the skin: so 'tis to thee;
The body's delicate: the tempest in my mind
Lear. True, my good boy.-Come, bring us to
When priests are more in word than matter;
When brewers mar their malt with water;
Come to great confusion.
Then comes the time, who lives to see't,' That going shall be us'd with feet. This prophecy Merlin shall make; for I live before his time. [Exit.
SCENE III.—A room in Gloster's castle. Enter
Gloster and Edmund.
For lifting food to't?-But I will punish home:
This tempest will not give me leave to ponder
Nay, get thee in. I'll pray, and then I'll sleep.[Fool goes in. Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are, That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm, Your loop'd and window'd raggedness, defend you How shall your houseless heads, and unfed sides, From seasons such as these? O, I have ta'en Glo. Alack, alack, Edmund, I like not this un-Too little care of this! Take physic, pomp; natural dealing: When I desired their leave that I Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel; might pity him, they took from me the use of mine That thou may'st shake the superflux to them, own house; charged me, on pain of their perpetual And show the heavens more just. displeasure, neither to speak of him, entreat for him, nor any way sustain him.
Edm. Most savage, and unnatural!
Glo. Go to say you nothing: There is division between the dukes; and a worse matter than that: I have received a letter this night;--'tis dangerous to be spoken;-I have locked the letter in my closet: these injuries the king now bears will be revenged home; there is part of a power already footed :3 we must incline to the king. I will seek him, and privily relieve him go you, and maintain talk with the duke, that my charity be not of him perceived: If he ask for me, I am ill, and gone to bed. If I die for it, as no less is threatened me, the king my old master must be relieved. There is some strange thing toward, Edmund; pray you, be careful.
[Exit. Edm. This courtesy, forbid thee, shall the duke|| Instantly know; and of that letter too :This seems a fair deserving, and must draw me 'That which my father loses; no less than all:
Edg. [Within.] Fathom and half, fathom and half! Poor Tom!
[The Fool runs out from the hovel. Fool. Come not in here, nuncle, here's a spirit. Help me, help me!
Kent. Give me thy hand.-Who's there?
Kent. What art thou that dost grumble there
Enter Edgar, disguised as a madman.
Lear. Hast thou given all to thy two daughters?
Edg. Who gives any thing to poor Tom? whom the foul fiend hath led through fire and through flame, through ford and whirlpool, over bog and quagmire; that hath laid knives under his pillow,
(3) A force already landed.