уильям шекспир - King Lear

GLOUCESTER Weapons? Arms? What’s the matter here?

CORNWALL Keep peace, upon your lives: he dies that strikes

again. What is the matter?

REGAN The messengers from our sister and the king.

CORNWALL What is your difference 45? Speak.

OSWALD I am scarce in breath, my lord.

KENT No marvel, you have so bestirred your valour 47. You

cowardly rascal, nature disclaims in thee: a tailor made thee 48.

CORNWALL Thou art a strange fellow — a tailor make a man?

KENT A tailor, sir: a stone-cutter or a painter could not

have made him so ill 51, though they had been but two years

o’th’trade.

CORNWALL Speak yet, how grew your quarrel?

OSWALD This ancient ruffian, sir, whose life I have spared at

suit of his grey beard 55—

KENT Thou whoreson zed, thou unnecessary letter 56!— My

lord, if you will give me leave, I will tread this unbolted 57

villain into mortar and daub the wall of a jakes 58with him.—

Spare my grey beard, you wagtail 59?

CORNWALL Peace, sirrah!

You beastly 61knave, know you no reverence?

KENT Yes, sir, but anger hath a privilege 62.

CORNWALL Why art thou angry?

KENT That such a slave as this should wear a sword,

Who wears no honesty 65. Such smiling rogues as these,

Like rats, oft bite the holy cords a-twain 66

Which are too intrinse t’unloose, smooth 67every passion

That in the natures of their lords rebel 68,

Being oil to fire 69, snow to the colder moods,

Revenge, affirm, and turn their halcyon beaks 70

With every gall and vary 71of their masters,

Knowing naught, like dogs, but following.—

To Oswald

A plague upon your epileptic visage 73!

Smile you my speeches, as 74I were a fool?

Goose, if I had you upon Sarum 75plain,

I’d drive ye cackling home to Camelot 76.

CORNWALL What, art thou mad, old fellow?

GLOUCESTER How fell you out? Say that.

KENT No contraries hold more antipathy

Than I and such a knave.

CORNWALL Why dost thou call him knave? What is his fault?

KENT His countenance likes 82me not.

CORNWALL No more, perchance, does mine, nor his, nor hers—

KENT Sir, ’tis my occupation 84to be plain:

I have seen better faces in my time

Than stands on any shoulder that I see

Before me at this instant.

CORNWALL This is some fellow

Who, having been praised for bluntness, doth affect

A saucy roughness, and constrains the garb 90

Quite from his nature. He cannot flatter, he:

An honest mind and plain, he must speak truth!

An they will take it, so: if not, he’s plain 93.

These kind of knaves I know, which in this plainness

Harbour more craft and more corrupter 95ends

Than twenty silly ducking observants 96

That stretch their duties nicely 97.

KENT Sir, in good faith, in sincere verity 98,

Under th’allowance of your great aspect 99,

Whose influence 100, like the wreath of radiant fire

On flickering Phoebus’ front 101—

CORNWALL What mean’st by this?

KENT To go out of my dialect 103, which you discommend so

much. I know, sir, I am no flatterer: he that beguiled 104you in a

plain accent was a plain knave, which for my part I will not

be, though I should win your displeasure to entreat me to’t 106.

To Oswald

CORNWALL What was th’offence you gave him?

OSWALD I never gave him any.

It pleased the king his master very late

To strike at me, upon his misconstruction 110:

When he, compact 111and flattering his displeasure,

Tripped me behind, being 112down, insulted, railed,

And put upon him such a deal of man 113

That worthied him 114, got praises of the king

For him attempting who was self-subdued 115:

And, in the fleshment of this dread exploit 116,

Drew on me here again.

KENT None of these rogues and cowards 118

But Ajax is their fool.

CORNWALL Fetch forth the stocks 120!—

You stubborn ancient knave, you reverent braggart 121,

We’ll teach you.

KENT Sir, I am too old to learn.

Call not your stocks for me: I serve the king,

On whose employment I was sent to you:

You shall do small respects, show too bold malice 126

Against the grace 127and person of my master,

Stocking his messenger.

CORNWALL Fetch forth the stocks! As I have life and honour,

There shall he sit till noon.

REGAN Till noon? Till night, my lord, and all night too.

KENT Why, madam, if I were your father’s dog

You should not use 133me so.

REGAN Sir, being his knave, I will.

Stocks brought out

CORNWALL This is a fellow of the self-same colour 135

Our sister speaks of. Come, bring away 136the stocks!

GLOUCESTER Let me beseech your grace not to do so:

The king his master needs must take it ill

That he so slightly valued in his messenger,

Should have him thus restrained.

CORNWALL I’ll answer 141that.

REGAN My sister may receive it much more worse

To have her gentleman abused, assaulted.

Kent put in the stocks

CORNWALL Come, my lord, away.

Exeunt. [Gloucester and Kent remain]

GLOUCESTER I am sorry for thee, friend: ’tis the duke’s pleasure 145,

Whose disposition all the world well knows

Will not be rubbed 147nor stopped. I’ll entreat for thee.

KENT Pray do not, sir. I have watched 148and travelled hard:

Some time I shall sleep out, the rest I’ll whistle.

A good man’s fortune may grow out at heels 150.

Give you good morrow 151.

GLOUCESTER The duke’s to blame in this: ’twill be ill taken.

Exit

KENT Good king, that must approve the common saw 153,

Thou out of heaven’s benediction com’st 154

To the warm sun.

Pulls out a letter

Approach, thou beacon to this under globe 156,

That by thy comfortable 157beams I may

Peruse this letter. Nothing almost sees miracles 158

But misery. I know ’tis from Cordelia,

Who hath most fortunately been informed

Of my obscurèd course 161, and shall find time

From this enormous state 162, seeking to give

Losses their remedies. All weary and o’erwatched 163,

Take vantage 164, heavy eyes, not to behold

This shameful lodging.

Fortune, goodnight: smile once more, turn thy wheel 166!

Sleeps

Enter Edgar

EDGAR I heard myself proclaimed 167,

And by the happy 168hollow of a tree

Escaped the hunt. No port is free, no place

That guard and most unusual vigilance

Does not attend my taking 171. Whiles I may scape,

I will preserve myself, and am bethought 172

To take the basest and most poorest shape

That ever penury in contempt of man 174

Brought near to beast: my face I’ll grime with filth,

Blanket my loins, elf 176all my hairs in knots,

And with presented 177nakedness outface

The winds and persecutions of the sky.

The country gives me proof and precedent

Of Bedlam 180beggars, who with roaring voices

Strike in their numbed and mortifièd 181arms

Pins, wooden pricks 182, nails, sprigs of rosemary,

And with this horrible object, from low 183farms,

Poor pelting 184villages, sheepcotes, and mills,

Sometimes with lunatic bans 185, sometime with prayers,

Enforce their charity. Poor Turlygod, poor Tom 186!

That’s something yet: Edgar I nothing am 187.

Exit

Enter Lear, Fool and Gentleman

LEAR ’Tis strange that they 188should so depart from home

And not send back my messengers.

GENTLEMAN As I learned,