уильям шекспир - King Lear

The night before there was no purpose in them

Of this remove.

Wakes

KENT Hail to thee, noble master!

LEAR Ha? Mak’st thou this shame thy pastime?

KENT No, my lord.

FOOL Ha, ha, he wears cruel 196garters. Horses are tied by

the heads, dogs and bears by th’neck, monkeys by th’loins,

and men by th’legs: when a man’s over-lusty at legs 198, then he

wears wooden nether-stocks 199.

LEAR What’s he that hath so much thy place 200mistook

To 201set thee here?

KENT It is both he and she:

Your son 203and daughter.

LEAR No.

KENT Yes.

LEAR No, I say.

KENT I say, yea.

LEAR By Jupiter, I swear, no.

KENT By Juno 209, I swear, ay.

LEAR They durst not do’t:

They could not, would not do’t: ’tis worse than murder

To do upon respect 212such violent outrage.

Resolve me with all modest haste which way 213

Thou might’st deserve or they impose this usage 214,

Coming from us 215.

KENT My lord, when at their home

I did commend 217your highness’ letters to them,

Ere I was risen from the place that showed

My duty kneeling, came there a reeking post 219,

Stewed 220in his haste, half breathless, panting forth

From Goneril his mistress salutations,

Delivered letters, spite of intermission 222,

Which presently 223they read: on those contents

They summoned up their meiny, straight 224took horse,

Commanded me to follow and attend 225

The leisure of their answer, gave me cold looks:

And meeting here the other messenger,

Whose welcome I perceived had poisoned mine —

Being the very fellow which of late

Displayed so saucily against 230your highness —

Having more man than wit about me, drew 231.

He raised the house with loud and coward cries:

Your son and daughter found this trespass worth

The shame which here it suffers.

FOOL Winter’s not gone yet if the wild geese fly that way 235.

Sings

Fathers that wear rags

Do make their children blind 237,

But fathers that bear bags 238

Shall see their children kind.

Fortune, that arrant 240whore,

Ne’er turns the key 241to th’poor.

But, for all this, thou shalt have as many dolours 242for thy

daughters as thou canst tell 243in a year.

LEAR O, how this mother 244swells up toward my heart!

Hysterica passio 245, down, thou climbing sorrow:

Thy element’s below 246!— Where is this daughter?

KENT With the earl, sir, here within.

LEAR Follow me not: stay here.

Exit

GENTLEMAN Made you no more offence but what you speak of?

KENT None. How chance the king comes with so small a

number?

FOOL An thou had’st been set i’th’stocks for that

question, thou’dst well deserved it.

KENT Why, fool?

FOOL We’ll set thee to school to an ant to teach thee 255

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 stinking 258. 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 again 262: I would have none but knaves

follow it, since a fool gives it.

Sings

That sir 264which serves and seeks for gain,

And follows but for form 265,

Will pack 266when 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, perdy 271.

Enter Lear and Gloucester

KENT Where learned you this, fool?

FOOL Not i’th’stocks, fool.

LEAR Deny 274to speak with me? They are sick, they are weary,

They have travelled all the night? Mere fetches 275,

The images of revolt and flying off 276.

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, confusion 282!

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, tends 289, 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 office 293

Whereto our health is bound: we are not ourselves

When nature, being oppressed 295, commands the mind

To suffer with the body. I’ll forbear,

And am fallen out with my more headier will 297,

To take the indisposed and sickly fit

Sees Kent

For the sound man. Death on my state 299! Wherefore

Should he sit here? This act persuades me

That this remotion 301of the duke and her

Is practice only. Give me my servant forth 302.

Go tell the duke and’s 303wife 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 cockney 309did to the eels when

she put ’em i’th’paste alive: she knapped ’em o’th’coxcombs 310

with a stick and cried ‘Down, wantons 311, down!’ ’Twas her

brother that, in pure kindness to his horse, buttered his hay 312.

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’ress 319.— O, are you free?

Some other time for that.— Belovèd Regan,

Thy sister’s naught 321: O Regan, she hath tied

Sharp-toothed unkindness, like a vulture 322, 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 desert 326

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 verge 336

Of her confine: you should be ruled and led

By some discretion that discerns your state 338

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 house 343:

Dear daughter, I confess that I am old;

Kneels

Age is unnecessary 345. On my knees I beg

That you’ll vouchsafe me raiment 346, bed and food.

REGAN Good sir, no more: these are unsightly tricks: