Royal Shakespeare Company: King Lear (2016) Movie Script

I thought the king had more affected
the Duke of Albany than Cornwall
It did always seem so to us
But now in the division of the kingdom it
appears not which of the dukes he values most
- Is not this your son, my lord?
- His breeding, sir, hath been at my charge
I have so often blushed to acknowledge him
that now I am brazed to it
- I cannot conceive you
- Sir, this young fellow's mother could
Whereupon she grew round-wombed and had indeed, sir, a
son for her cradle ere she had a husband for her bed
Do you smell a fault?
I cannot wish the fault undone,
the issue of it being so proper
But I have a son, sir, by order of law, some year
elder than this, who yet is no dearer in my account
Though this knave came something saucily
into the world before he was sent for
Yet was his mother fair, there was good sport at
his making and the whoreson must be acknowledged
- Do you know this noble gentleman, Edmund?
- No, my lord
My lord of Kent. Remember him hereafter
as my honourable friend
- My services to your lordship - I must
love you, and sue to know you better
- Sir, I shall study deserving - He hath
been out nine years, and away he shall again
The king is coming
- Attend the lords of France and
Burgundy, Gloucester - I shall, my lord
Meantime we shall express our darker
purpose. Give me the map there
Know that we have divided
in three our kingdom
And 'tis our fast intent to shake
all cares and business from our age...
conferring them on younger strengths
while we unburdened crawl toward death
Our son of Cornwall,
and you, our no less loving son of Albany
We have this hour a constant will
to publish our daughters' several dowers...
that future strife
may be prevented now
The princes, France and Burgundy, great
rivals in our youngest daughter's love...
long in our court have made their
amorous sojourn and here are to be answered
Tell me, my daughters
Since now we will divest us both of rule,
interest of territory, cares of state...
which of you shall we
say doth love us most?
That we our largest bounty may extend
where nature doth with merit challenge
Goneril, our eldest born, speak first
Sir, I love you more than
word can wield the matter
Dearer than eyesight, space and liberty,
beyond what can be valued rich or rare
No less than life, with
grace, health, beauty, honour
As much as child ever
loved, or father found
A love that makes breath poor and speech unable.
Beyond all manner of 'so much' I love you
What shall Cordelia speak?
Love, and be silent
Of all these bounds, even from this line to this,
with shadowy forests and with champaigns riched...
with plenteous rivers and
wide-skirted meads, we make thee lady
To thine and Albany's issues
be this perpetual
What says our second daughter,
our dearest Regan, wife of Cornwall?
I am made of that self-mettle as my sister,
and prize me at her worth
In my true heart,
I find she names my very deed of love
Only she comes too short, that I profess
myself an enemy to all other joys
And find I am alone felicitate
in your dear highness' love
Then poor Cordelia. And yet not so, since I am
sure my love's more ponderous than my tongue
To thee and thine hereditary ever
remain this ample third of our fair kingdom
No less in space, validity and pleasure
than that conferred on Goneril
Now our joy, although our last and least
To whose young love the vines of France and
milk of Burgundy strive to be interessed
What can you say to draw a third
more opulent than your sisters'? Speak
Nothing, my lord
- Nothing?
- Nothing
Nothing will come of nothing.
Speak again
Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave
my heart into my mouth
I love your majesty
according to my bond, no more nor less
How, how? Cordelia, mend your speech a
little, lest you may mar your fortunes
Good my lord,
you have begot me, bred me, loved me
I return those duties back as are right
fit, obey you, love you and most honour you
Why have my sisters husbands
if they say they love you all?
Happily when I shall wed,
that lord whose hand must take my plight...
shall carry half my love with him,
half my care and duty
Sure I shall never marry like my sisters,
to love my father all
- But goes thy heart with this?
- Ay, my good lord
- So young and so untender?
- So young, my lord, and true
Let it be so.
Thy truth then be thy dower
For by the sacred radiance of the sun,
the mysteries of Hecate and the night...
By all the operation of the orbs
from whom we do exist and cease to be...
here I disclaim all my paternal care,
propinquity and property of blood
And as a stranger to my heart and me
hold thee from this forever
- Good my liege...
- Peace, Kent
Come not between the dragon and his wrath
I loved her most, and thought to
set my rest on her kind nursery
Hence, and avoid my sight
Call France. Who stirs?
Call Burgundy
Cornwall and Albany, with our two
daughters' dowers digest the third
Let pride, which she
calls plainness, marry her
I do invest you jointly with my power, pre-eminence,
and all the large effects that troop with majesty
Ourself by monthly course, with reservation of
an hundred knights by you to be sustained...
shall our abode make
with you by due turn
Only we shall retain the name
and all the addition to a king
The sway, revenue, execution of the rest,
beloved sons, be yours
Which to confirm,
this coronet part between you
Royal Lear, whom I have ever honoured as my king,
loved as my father, as my master followed...
The bow is bent and
drawn, make from the shaft
Let it fall rather, though the fork invade
the region of my heart
Be Kent unmannerly when Lear is mad.
What wouldst thou do, old man?
Think'st thou that duty shall have dread
to speak when power to flattery bows?
Reserve thy state, and in thy best
consideration check this hideous rashness
Answer my life my judgement. Thy youngest
daughter does not love thee least
Kent, on thy life, no more
My life I never held but as a pawn
to wage against thine enemies
Out of my sight!
See better, Lear, and let me still remain
the true blank of thine eye
- Now, by Apollo...
- Now, by Apollo, king, thou swearest thy gods in vain
- O, vassal, miscreant
- Dear sir, forbear
Revoke thy doom, or whilst I can vent clamour
from my throat, I'll tell thee thou dost evil
Hear me, recreant,
on thine allegiance hear me
That thou hast sought to make us break our vows,
which we durst never yet, take thy reward
Five days we do allot thee for provision
to shield thee from disasters of the world
And on the sixth to turn thy hated back
upon our kingdom
If on the next day following thy banished trunk be
found in our dominions, the moment is thy death
By Jupiter, this shall not be revoked
Fare thee well, king. Sith thus thou wilt appear,
freedom lives hence and banishment is here
The gods to their dear shelter take thee, maid,
that justly think'st, and hast most rightly said
And your large speeches may your deeds approve,
that good effects may spring from words of love
Thus Kent, O princes, bids you all adieu.
He'll shape his old course in a country new
Here's France and Burgundy, my noble lord
My lord of Burgundy,
we first address toward you
What in the least will you require in present
dower with her, or cease your quest of love?
Most royal majesty, I crave no more than hath
your highness offered, nor will you tender less
Right noble Burgundy, when she was dear to us
we did hold her so, but now her price is fallen
- Sir, there she stands. She's there,
and she is yours - I know no answer
Will you, with those infirmities she owns,
unfriended, new-adopted to our hate...
dowered with our curse and strangered
with our oath, take her or leave her?
Pardon me, royal sir.
Election makes not up in such conditions
Then leave her, sir, for by the power
that made me, I tell you all her wealth
For you, great king,
avert your liking a more worthier way...
than on a wretch whom nature is ashamed
almost to acknowledge hers
This is most strange, that she whom even but
now was your object, the best, the dearest...
should in this trice of time commit a thing so
monstrous to dismantle so many folds of favour
Sure her offence must be
of such unnatural degree that monsters it
Which to believe of her must be a faith that
reason without miracle should never plant in me
I beseech your majesty that you make known it
is no vicious blot, murder, or foulness...
that hath deprived me of your grace and favour,
but even for want of that for which I am richer
A still-soliciting eye and such a tongue
that I am glad I have not
Though not to have it
hath lost me in your liking
Better thou hadst not been born
than not to have pleased me better
Is it but this? A tardiness in nature, which often
leaves the history unspoke that it intends to do?
My lord of Burgundy, what say you to the lady?
Will you have her? She is herself a dowry
Royal king, give but that portion
which yourself proposed
And here I take Cordelia by the hand,
Duchess of Burgundy
I have sworn, I am firm
I am sorry, then, you have so lost a father
that you must lose a husband
Peace be with Burgundy. Since that respect and
fortunes are his love, I shall not be his wife
Fairest Cordelia, that art most rich being
poor, thee and thy virtues here I seize upon
Be it lawful, I take up what's cast away.
Gods, gods!
'Tis strange that from their coldest neglect
my love should kindle to inflamed respect
Thy dowerless daughter, king, thrown to my chance,
is queen of us, of ours and our fair France
Thou hast her, France, let her be thine
For we have no such daughter,
nor shall ever see that face of hers again
Therefore be gone
without our grace, our love, our benison
Come, noble Burgundy
Bid farewell to your sisters
The jewels of our father,
with washed eyes Cordelia leaves you
I know you what you are. Love well our father.
To your professed bosoms I commit him
- So farewell to you both
- Prescribe not us our duty
Let your study be to content your lord
who hath received you at fortune's alms
You have obedience scanted, and well
are worth the want that you have wanted
Time shall unfold what plighted cunning hides.
Who covers faults, at last with shame derides
- Well may you prosper
- Come, my fair Cordelia
Sister, it is not little I have to say
of what most nearly appertains to us both
- I think our father will hence tonight - That's
most certain, and with you. Next month with us
You see how full of changes his age is.
He always loved our sister most
And with what poor judgement he hath now
cast her off appears too grossly
'Tis the infirmity of his age. Yet he
hath ever but slenderly known himself
The best and soundest of his time hath been
but rash. Then must we look from his age...
to receive the unruly waywardness that
infirm and choleric years bring with them
Such unconstant starts are we like to
have from him as this of Kent's banishment
Pray you let us sit together. If our father carry
authority with such disposition as he bears...
this last surrender
of his will but offend us
- We shall further think of it
- We must do something, and in the heat
Thou, nature, art my goddess.
To thy law my services are bound
Wherefore should I stand in the plague of custom and
permit the curiosity of nations to deprive me...
for that I am some twelve or
fourteen moonshines lag of a brother?
Why bastard? Wherefore base?
When my dimensions are as well compact...
my mind as generous, and my shape
as true, as honest madam's issue?
Why brand they us with base?
With baseness? Bastardy? Base, base?
Who in the lusty stealth of nature take more
composition and fierce quality than doth...
within a dull, stale, tired bed, go to the creating
a whole tribe of fops got 'tween a sleep and wake?
Well then, legitimate Edgar,
I must have your land
Our father's love is to the bastard Edmund as
to the legitimate. Fine word, 'legitimate'
Well, my legitimate, if this letter speed
and my invention thrive...
Edmund the base shall top the legitimate
I grow, I prosper.
Now, gods, stand up for bastards
Kent banished thus?
And France in choler parted?
And the king gone tonight?
All this done upon the gad?
- Edmund, how now? What news?
- So please your lordship, none
- Why so earnestly seek you to put up that letter?
- I know no news, my lord
- What paper were you reading?
- Nothing, my lord
No? What needed, then, that terrible
dispatch of it into your pocket?
The quality of nothing hath not such need
to hide itself. Let's see
Come, if it be nothing
I shall not need spectacles
I beseech you, sir, pardon me. It is a letter
from my brother, that I have not all o'er-read
And for so much as I have perused,
I find it not fit for your o'erlooking
- Give me the letter, sir - I shall
offend either to detain or give it
Let's see, let's see
I hope for my brother's justification he wrote
this but as an essay or taste of my virtue
I begin to find an idle and fond bondage
in the oppression of aged tyranny
Come to me, that of this I may speak more
If our father would sleep till I waked him,
you should enjoy half his revenue for ever...
and live the beloved
of your brother, Edgar
Conspiracy! 'Sleep till I wake him,
you should enjoy half his revenue'
My son Edgar?
Had he a hand to write this?
A heart and brain to breed it in?
When came you to this? Who brought it?
It was not brought me, my lord,
there's the cunning of it
- I found it thrown in at the casement of my closet
- You know the character to be your brother's?
- I would fain think it were not
- It is his
It is his hand, my lord,
but I hope his heart is not in the contents
- Has he never before sounded you in this business?
- Never, my lord
But I have heard him oft maintain it to be fit
that, sons at perfect age and fathers declined...
the father should be as ward to the son,
and the son manage his revenue
O villain, villain! His very opinion in the letter.
Abhorred villain. Unnatural, detested, brutish villain
Worse than brutish.
Go, sirrah, seek him, I'll apprehend him
- Abominable villain, where is he?
- I do not well know, my lord
If it shall please you to suspend
your indignation against my brother...
till you can derive from him better testimony
of his intent, you should run a certain course
I dare pawn down my life, that he hath writ
this to feel my affection to your honour...
- and to no other pretence of danger
- Think you so?
If your honour judge it meet, I will place
you where you shall hear us confer of this
- He cannot be such a monster
- Nor is not, sure
To his father, that so tenderly and entirely loves
him. Heaven and Earth! Edmund, seek him out
- Wind me into him, I pray you
- I will, sir, presently
These late eclipses in the sun and moon
portend no good to us
Love cools, friendship falls off, brothers
divide. In cities mutinies, in countries discord
In palaces treason,
and the bond cracked 'twixt son and father
This villain of mine comes under the
prediction. There's son against father
The king falls from bias of nature.
There's father against child
We have seen the best of our time
Machinations, hollowness, treachery, and all ruinous
disorders follow us disquietly to our graves
Find out this villain, Edmund,
it shall lose thee nothing. Do it carefully
And the noble and true-hearted Kent banished.
His offence, honesty. 'Tis strange
This is the excellent foppery of the world
That when we are sick in fortune,
often the surfeits of our own behaviours...
we make guilty of our disasters
the sun, the moon and stars
As if we were villains on necessity,
fools by heavenly compulsion
Knaves, thieves and treachers
by spherical predominance
Drunkards, liars and adulterers by an
enforced obedience of planetary influence
And all that we are evil in,
by a divine thrusting on
An admirable evasion of whoremaster man, to lay
his goatish disposition on the charge of a star
My father compounded with my mother
under the dragon's tail
And my nativity was under Ursa major,
so that it follows I am rough and lecherous
Fut! I should have been that I am had the maidenliest
star in the firmament twinkled on my bastardizing
And pat he comes
like the catastrophe of the old comedy
O, these eclipses do
portend these divisions
How now, brother Edmund,
what serious contemplation are you in?
I am thinking, brother, of a prediction I read
this other day, what should follow these eclipses
- Do you busy yourself with that?
- I promise you...
the effects he writes of succeed unhappily, as
of unnaturalness between the child and the parent
Death, dearth, dissolutions of ancient amities,
divisions in state, nuptial breaches...
- and I know not what - How long
have you been a sectary astronomical?
Come, come
- When saw you my father last?
- Why, the night gone by
- Spake you with him?
- Ay, two hours together
Parted you in good terms? Found you no
displeasure in him by word nor countenance?
- None at all - Bethink yourself
wherein you may have offended him
And at my entreaty forbear his presence...
until some little time hath qualified
the heat of his displeasure,
which at this instant so rageth in him
- Some villain hath done me wrong
- That's my fear
Retire with me to my lodging, from whence I
will fitly bring you to hear my lord speak.
Pray ye go
- There's my key. If you do stir
abroad, go armed - Armed, brother?
Brother, I advise you to the best, go armed. I
have told you what I have seen and heard...
but faintly, nothing like the image
and horror of it. Pray you away
- Shall I hear from you anon?
- I do serve you in this business
A credulous father and a brother noble,
whose nature is so far from doing harms...
that he suspects none.
I see the business
Let me, if not by birth, have lands by wit.
All with me's meet that I can fashion fit
Did my father strike my gentleman
for chiding of his fool?
- Ay, madam
- By day and night he wrongs me
Every hour he flashes into one gross
crime or other that sets us all at odds
I'll not endure it. His knights grow riotous,
and himself upbraids us on every trifle
When he returns from hunting
I will not speak with him. Say I am sick
If you come slack of former services you
shall do well. The fault of it I'll answer
He's coming, madam, I hear him
Put on what weary negligence you please, you
and your fellows. I'd have it come to question
If he distaste it, let him to my sister,
whose mind and mine, I know, in that are one
- Remember what I have said
- Well, madam
And let his knights have colder looks among you.
What grows of it, no matter. Advise your fellows so
I'll write straight to my sister, to
hold my course. Prepare for dinner
If but as well I other accents borrow,
that can my speech defuse...
my good intent may carry through itself to
that full issue for which I razed my likeness
Now, banished Kent, if thou canst serve
where thou dost stand condemned...
so may it come, thy master, whom thou
lovest, shall find thee full of labours
Let me not stay a jot for dinner.
Go, get it ready
- How now, what art thou?
- A man, sir
What dost thou profess?
What wouldst thou with us?
I do profess to be no less than I seem, to
serve him truly that will put me in trust
To love him that is honest, to converse
with him that is wise and says little
To fear judgement, to fight when
I cannot choose and to eat no fish
- What art thou?
- A very honest-hearted fellow, and as poor as the king
If thou be'st as poor for a subject as
he be for a king, thou art poor enough
- What wouldst thou?
- Service
- Who wouldst thou serve?
- You
- Dost thou know me, fellow?
- No, sir
But you have that in your countenance
which I would fain call master
- What's that?
- Authority
- What services canst thou do?
- I can keep honest counsel, ride, run...
mar a curious tale in telling it,
and deliver a plain message bluntly,
and the best of me is diligence
How old art thou?
Not so young, sir, to love a woman for singing,
nor so old to dote on her for anything
I have years on my back forty-eight,
and my name is Caius called
Follow me, Caius, thou shalt serve me,
if I like thee no worse after dinner
Dinner, ho, dinner!
Where's my knave, my fool?
Go you and call my fool hither
- You, you, sirrah, where's my daughter?
- So please you
What says the fellow there?
Call the clotpoll back
Where's my fool?
Ho, I think the world's asleep
- How now, where's that mongrel?
- He says, my lord, your daughter is not well
Why came not the slave back to me
when I called him?
Sir, he answered me in the roundest manner,
he would not
- He would not?
- My lord, I know not what the matter is
But to my judgement your highness is not entertained
with that ceremonious affection as you were wont
- Ha, sayst thou so?
- I beseech you pardon me, my lord, if I be mistaken
For my duty cannot be silent
when I think your highness wronged
Thou but rememberest me of mine own conception,
I have perceived a most faint neglect of late
I will look further into it. But where's
my fool? I have not seen him this two days
Since my young lady's going into France,
sir, the fool hath much pined away
No more of that, I have noted it well
Go you and tell my daughter I would speak
with her. Go you, call hither my fool
O, you sir, you, come you hither, sir
- Who am I, sir?
- My lady's father
'My lady's father'?
You whoreson dog, you slave, you cur
- I am none of these, my lord, I beseech your
pardon - Do you bandy looks with me, you rascal?
- I'll not be strucken, my lord - Nor
tripped neither, you base football player
I thank thee, fellow
Come, sir, arise, away.
I'll teach you differences. Away, away. So
Now, my friendly knave, I thank thee.
There's earnest of thy service
Let me hire him too.
Here's my coxcomb
How now, my pretty knave, how dost thou?
- Sirrah, you were best take my coxcomb
- Why, my boy?
Why? For taking one's
part that's out of favour
Nay, an thou canst not smile as the
wind sits, thou'lt catch cold shortly
There, take my coxcomb. Why, this fellow
has banished two on's daughters...
and did the third a blessing against his will.
If thou follow him, thou must needs wear my coxcomb
How now, nuncle?
Would I had two coxcombs and two daughters
- Why, my boy?
- If I gave them all my living...
I'd keep my coxcombs myself.
There's mine
- Beg another of thy daughters
- Take heed, sirrah, the whip
Truth's a dog must to kennel. He must be whipped out
when the Lady Brach may stand by the fire and stink
- A pestilent gall to me
- Sirrah, I'll teach thee a speech
- Do
- Mark it, nuncle
Have more than thou showest,
speak less than thou knowest
Lend less than thou owest,
ride more than thou goest
Learn more than thou trowest, leave thy
drink and thy whore, and keep in-a-door
And thou shalt have more
than two tens to a score
This is nothing, fool
Then 'tis like the breath of an unfeed
lawyer, you gave me nothing for it
- Can you make no use of nothing, nuncle?
- Why, no, boy. Nothing can be made out of nothing
Prithee tell him,
so much the rent of his land comes to
- He will not believe a fool
- A bitter fool
Dost thou know the difference, my boy,
between a bitter fool and a sweet one?
No, lad, teach me
That lord that counselled thee
to give away thy land...
Come place him here by me,
do thou for him stand
The sweet and bitter fool
will presently appear
The one in motley here,
the other found out there
Dost thou call me fool, boy?
All thy titles thou hast given away,
that thou wast born with
- This is not altogether fool, my lord - No,
faith, lords and great men will not let me
If I had a monopoly out, they would
have part on't, and ladies too
They will not let me have all the
fool to myself, they'll be snatching
- Nuncle, give me an egg and I'll give thee
two crowns - What two crowns shall they be?
Why, after I have cut the egg in the middle and
eat up the meat, the two crowns of the egg
When thou clovest thy crown in the middle
and gavest away both parts...
thou bor'st thine ass
on thy back over the dirt
Thou hadst little wit in thy bald crown
when thou gav'st thy golden one away
If I speak like myself in this,
let him be whipped that first finds it so
Fools had never less grace in a year,
for wise men are grown foppish
And know not how their wits to wear,
their manners are so apish
When were you wont to be
so full of songs, sirrah?
I have used it, nuncle, ever since
thou madest thy daughters thy mothers
For when thou gavest them the rod
and puttest down thine own breeches...
Then they for sudden joy did weep,
and I for sorrow sung
That such a king should play bo-peep
and go the fools among
Prithee, nuncle, keep a schoolmaster
that can teach thy fool to lie
- I would fain learn to lie - An you
lie, sirrah, we'll have you whipped
I marvel what kin thou
and thy daughters are
They'll have me whipped for speaking true,
thou'lt have me whipped for lying
And sometimes I am whipped
for holding my peace
I had rather be any kind of thing than a
fool. And yet I would not be thee, nuncle
Thou hast pared thy wit on both sides
and left nothing in the middle
Here comes one of the parings
How now, daughter? What makes that frontlet
on? You are too much of late in the frown
Thou wast a pretty fellow when thou
hadst no need to care for her frowning
I am better than thou art now.
I am a fool, thou art nothing
Yes, forsooth, I will hold my tongue, so
your face bids me, though you say nothing
- Not only, sir, this your...
- Mum
Not only, sir, this your all-licensed fool,
but other of your insolent retinue...
do hourly carp and quarrel, breaking
forth in rank and not-to-be endured riots
Sir, I had thought by making this well
known unto you to have found a safe redress
But now grow fearful, by what
yourself too late have spoke and done
That you protect this course and put it on
by your allowance...
which if you should, the fault would
not 'scape censure, nor the redresses sleep
For you know, nuncle, the hedge-sparrow fed the cuckoo
so long, that it's had it head bit off by it young
So, out went the candle,
and we were left darkling
Are you our daughter?
I would you would make use of your good
wisdom, whereof I know you are fraught
And put away these dispositions which of
late transport you from what you rightly are
May not an ass know when the cart draws
the horse? Whoop, Jug! I love thee
Does any here know me?
This is not Lear
Does Lear walk thus? Speak thus?
Where are his eyes?
Either his notion weakens, his discernings
are lethargied. Ha, waking? 'Tis not so?
- Who is it that can tell me who I am?
- Lear's shadow
This admiration, sir, is much of the savour
of other your new pranks
I do beseech you
to understand my purposes aright
As you are old and reverend,
should be wise
Here do you keep a hundred knights and squires,
men so disordered, so debauched and bold...
that this our court, infected with
their manners, shows like a riotous inn
Epicurism and lust...
makes it more like a tavern
or a brothel than a graced palace
The shame itself doth speak
for instant remedy
Be then desired by her, that else will take the
thing she begs, a little to disquantity your train
And the remainders, that
shall still depend...
to be such men as may besort your age,
which know themselves and you
Darkness and devils!
Saddle my horses, call my train together
Degenerate bastard, I'll not trouble thee.
Yet have I left a daughter
You strike my people, and your disordered
rabble make servants of their betters
Woe that too late repents!
O, sir, are you come? Is it your will?
- Speak, sir. Prepare my horses
- Pray, sir, be patient
Detested kite, thou liest.
My train are men of choice and rarest parts
And in the most exact regard
support the worships of their name
O, most small fault,
how ugly didst thou in Cordelia seem
O Lear, Lear, Lear!
Beat at this gate, that let thy folly in,
and thy dear judgement out
Go, go, my people
My lord, I am guiltless as I am ignorant
of what hath moved you
It may be so, my lord
Hear, nature, hear, dear goddess, hear
Suspend thy purpose if thou didst intend
to make this creature fruitful
Into her womb convey sterility,
dry up in her the organs of increase
And from her derogate body
never spring a babe to honour her
If she must teem, create her child of spleen, that it
may live and be a thwart disnatured torment to her
Let it stamp wrinkles in her brow of youth
Turn all her mother's pains and benefits
to laughter and contempt
That she may feel how sharper than a serpent's
tooth it is to have a thankless child
Away, away!
- Now, gods that we adore, whereof comes this?
- Never afflict yourself to know more of it
But let his disposition have that scope
as dotage gives it
What, fifty of my followers at a clap?
Within a fortnight?
- What's the matter, sir?
- I'll tell thee
Life and death! I am ashamed that thou
hast power to shake my manhood thus
That these hot tears, which break from
me perforce, should make thee worth them
Old fond eyes, beweep this cause again,
I'll pluck ye out
I have another daughter,
who, I am sure, is kind and comfortable
When she shall hear this of thee, with
her nails she'll flay thy wolvish visage
Thou shalt find that I'll resume the shape
which thou dost think I have cast off forever
Do you mark that?
I cannot be so partial, Goneril,
to the great love I bear you...
Pray you, content.
What, Oswald, ho!
The knave turns fool that runs away,
the fool no knave, perdy
The knave turns fool that runs away,
the fool no knave, perdy
A fox, when one has caught her,
and such a daughter...
should sure to the slaughter,
if my cap would buy a halter
So the fool follows after
This man hath had good counsel.
A hundred knights?
'Tis politic and safe to let him keep
at point a hundred knights?
Yes, that on every dream, each buzz,
each fancy, each complaint, dislike...
he may enguard his dotage with their powers
and hold our lives in mercy. Oswald, I say!
- Well, you may fear too far - Safer
than trust too far. I know his heart
How now, Oswald? What, have you
writ that letter to my sister?
- Ay, madam
- Take you some company and away to horse
Inform her full of my particular fear,
and thereto add such reasons of your own...
as may compact it more.
Get you gone, and hasten your return
No, no, my lord, this milky gentleness and course
of yours though I condemn not, yet, under pardon...
you are much more at task for want of
wisdom than praised for harmful mildness
How far your eyes may pierce I cannot tell.
Striving to better, oft we mar what's well
- Nay, then...
- Well, well, the event
Go you before to Regan with this letter
If your diligence be not speedy,
I shall be there afore you
I will not sleep, my lord,
till I have delivered your letter
If a man's brains were in's heels,
were't not in danger of kibes?
- Ay, boy - Then I prithee be merry.
Thy wit shall not go slip-shod
Shalt see thy other daughter will use thee kindly, for
though she's as like this as a crab's like an apple...
- yet I can tell what I can tell
- What canst tell, boy?
She will taste as like this
as a crab does to a crab
Thou canst tell why one's nose stands
in the middle on's face?
- No - Why, to keep one's
eyes of either side's nose
That what a man cannot smell out
he may spy into
I did her wrong
- Canst tell how an oyster makes his shell?
- No
- Nor I neither. But I can tell
why a snail has a house - Why?
Why, to put's head in, not to give it away to his
daughters and leave his horns without a case
I will forget my nature. So kind a father
- Be my horses ready?
- Thy asses are gone about 'em
The reason why the seven stars
are no more than seven is a pretty reason
- Because they are not eight - Yes, indeed.
Thou wouldst make a good fool
To take it again perforce.
Monster ingratitude!
If thou wert my fool, nuncle, I'd have
thee beaten for being old before thy time
How's that?
Thou shouldst not have been old
till thou hadst been wise
O, let me not be mad, not mad, sweet heaven.
Keep me in temper. I would not be mad
- How now, are the horses ready?
- Ready, my lord
Come, boy
She that's a maid now, and laughs at my departure,
shall not be a maid long, unless things be cut shorter
- Save thee, Curan - And you, sir.
I have been with your father...
and given him notice that the Duke of Cornwall and
Regan his duchess will be here with him this night
- How comes that?
- Nay, I know not
You have heard of the news abroad.
I mean the whispered ones...
- for they are yet but ear-kissing arguments?
- Not I. Pray you, what are they?
Have you heard of no likely wars toward
'twixt the dukes of Cornwall and Albany?
- Not a word - You may do then in time.
Fare you well, sir
The duke be here tonight? The better... best!
This weaves itself perforce into my business
My father hath set guard to take my brother
And I have one thing, of a queasy question,
which I must act. Briefness and fortune, work
Brother, descend.
A word, brother, I say
My father watches. O sir, fly this place.
Intelligence is given where you are hid
Have you not spoken against
the Duke of Cornwall?
He's coming hither, now, in the night,
in the haste, and Regan with him
- I am sure on't, not a word
- I hear my father coming, pardon me
In cunning I must draw my sword upon you.
Draw, seem to defend yourself
Now quit you well.
Yield, come before my father
Light ho, here!
Fly, brother
Torches, torches!
So, farewell
Some blood drawn on me would beget
opinion of my more fierce endeavour
I have seen drunkards
do more than this in sport
Father, father!
Stop, stop! No help?
- Now, Edmund, where's the villain?
- Here stood he in the dark, his sharp sword out
Mumbling of wicked charms, conjuring
the moon to stand auspicious mistress...
- But where is he?
- Look, sir, I bleed
- Where is the villain, Edmund?
- Fled this way, sir. When by no means he could...
Pursue him, ho! Go after
- By no means what?
- Persuade me to the murder of your lordship
Let him fly far.
Not in this land shall he remain uncaught
O, strange and fastened villain,
I never got him
Hark, the duke's trumpets.
I know not where he comes
All ports I'll bar. The villain shall
not scape, the duke must grant me that
And of my land, loyal and natural boy,
I'll work the means to make thee capable
How now, my noble friend? Since I
came hither I have heard strangeness
If it be true, all vengeance comes too
short which can pursue the offender
- How dost, my lord?
- O, madam, my old heart is cracked, it's cracked
What, did my father's godson seek your
life? He whom my father named, your Edgar?
O, lady, lady, shame would have it hid
Was he not companion with the riotous
knights that tended upon my father?
- I know not, madam. 'Tis too bad, too bad
- Yes, madam, he was of that consort
No marvel, then, though
he were ill affected
I have this present evening from my sister
been well informed of them
And with such cautions that if they come
to sojourn at my house, I'll not be there
Nor I, assure thee, Regan. Edmund,
I hear that you have shown your father...
- a child-like office
- It was my duty, sir
He did bewray his practice and received
this hurt you see striving to apprehend him
- Is he pursued?
- Ay, my good lord
If he be taken, he shall never more
be feared of doing harm
For you, Edmund, whose virtue and obedience
doth this instant so much commend itself...
you shall be ours. Natures of such deep trust
we shall much need. You we first seize on
- I shall serve you, sir, truly, however
else - For him I thank your grace
- You know not why we come to visit you -
Thus out of season, threading dark-eyed night
Our father he hath writ, so hath
our sister, of differences...
which I best thought it fit
to answer from our home
Our good old friend, lay comforts to your
bosom, and bestow your needful counsel...
to our businesses,
which craves the instant use
I serve you, madam.
Your graces are right welcome
I heard myself proclaimed, and by the happy
hollow of a tree escaped the hunt
No port is free, no place that guard and most
unusual vigilance does not attend my taking
Whiles I may scape, I will preserve myself.
And am bethought to take the basest...
and most poorest shape that ever penury,
in contempt of man, brought near to beast
My face I'll grime with filth,
blanket my loins, elf all my hairs in knots
And with presented nakedness outface
the winds and persecutions of the sky
The country gives me proof and precedent of
Bedlam beggars, who with roaring voices...
strike in their numbed and mortified arms
pins, wooden pricks, nails, sprigs of rosemary
And with this horrible object, from low farms,
poor pelting villages, sheepcotes, and mills...
sometimes with lunatic bans, sometime
with prayers, enforce their charity
Poor Turlygod, poor Tom
That's something yet.
Edgar I nothing am
- Good dawning to thee, friend. Art of this house?
- Ay
- Where may we set our horses?
- In the mire
Prithee, if thou lovest me, tell me
- I love thee not
- Why then, I care not for thee
If I had thee in Lipsbury pinfold,
I would make thee care for me
Why dost thou use me thus?
I know thee not
- Fellow, I know thee
- What dost thou know me for?
A knave, a rascal, an eater of broken meats
A base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three-suited,
hundred-pound, filthy, worsted-stocking knave
A lily-livered, action-taking, whoreson,
glass-gazing, super-serviceable finical rogue
One that wouldst be a bawd in way of good
service, and art nothing but the composition...
of a knave, beggar, coward, pandar,
and the son and heir of a mongrel bitch
One whom I will beat into clamorous whining if
thou deniest the least syllable of thy addition
Why, what a monstrous fellow art thou thus to rail
on one that is neither known of thee nor knows thee
What a brazen-faced varlet art thou
to deny thou knowest me
Is it two days since I tripped up thy heels
and beat thee before the king?
Draw, you rogue,
you whoreson cullionly barber-monger. Draw
- Away, I have nothing to do with thee
- Draw, you rascal
You come with letters against the king. Draw,
you rogue, or I'll so carbonado your shanks
- Draw, you rascal, come your ways
- Help, ho! Murder, help!
Strike, you slave. Stand, rogue,
stand, you neat slave, strike!
How now, what's the matter? Part
With you, goodman boy, if you please.
Come, I'll flesh ye. Come on, young master
Weapons? Arms? What's the matter here?
Keep peace, upon your lives.
He dies that strikes again
- What is the matter?
- The messengers from our sister and the king
- What is your difference? Speak
- I am scarce in breath, my lord
- No marvel, you have so bestirred your
valour - Speak yet, how grew your quarrel?
This ancient ruffian, sir, whose life I
have spared at suit of his grey beard...
Thou whoreson zed, thou unnecessary letter.
My lord, if you will give me leave...
I will tread this unbolted villain into
mortar and daub the wall of a jakes with him
Spare my grey beard, you wagtail?
Peace, sirrah!
You beastly knave, know you no reverence?
- Yes, sir, but anger hath a privilege
- Why art thou angry?
That such a slave as this should
wear a sword, who wears no honesty
Such smiling rogues as these,
like rats, oft bite
A plague upon your epileptic visage.
Smile you my speeches, as I were a fool?
Goose, if I had you upon Sarum plain,
I'd drive ye cackling home to Camelot
- What, art thou mad, old fellow? What is his fault?
- His countenance likes me not
- No more, perchance, does mine, nor his, nor
hers - Sir, 'tis my occupation to be plain
I have seen better faces in my time than stands on
any shoulder that I see before me at this instant
This is some fellow who, having been praised
for bluntness, doth affect a saucy roughness
He cannot flatter, he. An honest
mind and plain, he must speak truth
Sir, in good faith, in sincere verity,
under the allowance of your great aspect...
whose influence, like the wreath of
radiant fire on flickering Phoebus' front...
What meanest by this?
To go out of my dialect, which you discommend
so much. I know, sir, I am no flatterer
- What was the offence you gave him?
- I never gave him any
It pleased the king his master very late
to strike at me, upon his misconstruction
When he, compact and
flattering his displeasure...
tripped me behind, got praises
of the king and drew on me again
Fetch forth the stocks. You stubborn ancient
knave, you reverent braggart, we'll teach you
Sir, I am too old to learn. Call not
your stocks for me, I serve the king
Fetch forth the stocks. As I have life
and honour, there shall he sit till noon
Till noon?
Till night, my lord, and all night too
Why, madam, if I were your father's dog
you should not use me so
Sir, being his knave, I will
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
I'll answer that
My sister may receive it much more worse
to have her gentleman abused, assaulted
Put in his legs.
Come, my good lord, away
I am sorry for thee, friend.
'Tis the duke's pleasure...
whose disposition all the world well
knows will not be rubbed nor stopped
- I'll entreat for thee
- Pray do not, sir
I have watched and travelled hard. Some time
I shall sleep out, the rest I'll whistle
The duke's to blame in this.
'Twill be ill taken
Approach, thou beacon to this under globe, that
by thy comfortable beams I may peruse this letter
'Tis from Cordelia, who hath most fortunately
been informed of my obscured course...
and shall find time
to give losses their remedies
Fortune, goodnight.
Smile once more, turn thy wheel
'Tis strange that they should so depart
from home and not send back my messenger
As I learned, the night before
there was no purpose in them of this remove
- Hail to thee, noble master
- Ha, makest thou this shame thy pastime?
- No, my lord
- Ha, ha, he wears cruel garters
What's he that hath so much thy
place mistook to set thee here?
It is both he and she,
your son and daughter
- No
- Yes
- No, I say
- I say, yea
- By Jupiter, I swear, no
- By Juno, I swear, ay
They durst not do it.
They could not, would not do it
'Tis worse than murder
to do upon respect such violent outrage
Resolve me with all modest haste...
which way thou might'st deserve or
they impose this usage, coming from us
My lord, here came a reeking messenger
Stewed in his haste, half breathless, panting
forth from Goneril his mistress salutations
It was the very fellow which of late
displayed so saucily against your highness
Having more man than wit about me, I drew
Your son and daughter found this trespass
worth the shame which here it suffers
Winter's not gone yet
if the wild geese fly that way
- Where is this daughter?
- With the earl, sir, here within
Follow me not, stay here
How chance the king comes
with so small a number?
An thou had'st been set in the stocks for
that question, thou'dst well deserved it
Why, fool?
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
But the great one that goes upward,
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,
and follows but for form...
will pack when it begins to rain,
and leave thee in the storm
But I will tarry, the fool will stay,
and let the wise man flee
The knave turns fool that runs away,
the fool no knave, perdy
- Where learned you this, fool?
- Not in the stocks, fool
Deny to speak with me?
They are sick, they are weary,
they have travelled all the night?
- Fetch me a better answer - My dear lord,
you know the fiery quality of the duke
How unremovable and fixed
he is in his own course
Vengeance, plague, death, confusion!
Fiery? What quality?
Why, Gloucester, Gloucester, I'd speak
with the Duke of Cornwall and his wife
- Well, my good lord, I have informed them so -
Informed them? Dost thou understand me, man?
- Ay, my good lord
- The king would speak with Cornwall
The dear father would with his
daughter speak, commands, tends 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
whereto our health is bound. I'll forbear
Death on my state, wherefore should
he sit here? Give me my servant forth
Go tell the duke and his 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
- I would have all well betwixt you - O
me, my heart, my rising heart. But, down!
Cry to it, nuncle, as the cockney did to the
eels when she put 'em in the paste alive
She knapped 'em on the coxcombs with a
stick and cried 'Down, wantons, down'
- Good morrow to you both
- Hail to your grace
- I am glad to see your highness
- Regan, I think you are
O, are you free?
Some other time for that
Beloved Regan, thy sister's naught
O Regan, she hath tied sharp-toothed
unkindness, like a vulture, here
I can scarce speak to thee. Thou'lt not
believe with how depraved a quality...
- O Regan
- I pray you, sir, take patience
I have hope you less know how to value
her desert than she to scant her duty
Say? How is that?
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
My curses on her
O, sir, you are old. Nature in you
stands on the very verge of her confine
Therefore, I pray you, that to our sister you
do make return. Say you have wronged her
Ask her forgiveness?
Do you but mark how this becomes the house
Dear daughter, I confess that I am old.
Age is unnecessary
On my knees I beg that you'll
vouchsafe me raiment, bed and food
Good sir, no more. These are unsightly
tricks. Return you to my sister
Never, Regan. She hath abated 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 top
Fie, sir, fie
Infect her beauty, you fen-sucked fogs drawn
by the powerful sun to fall and blister
O the blest gods! So will you wish on me
when the rash mood is on
No, Regan, thou shalt never have my curse
Thy tender-hafted nature shall not give
thee over to harshness
Her eyes are fierce,
but thine do comfort and not burn
Thy half of the kingdom hast thou
not forgot, wherein I thee endowed
- Good sir, to the purpose
- Who put my man in the stocks?
Is your lady come?
This is a slave, whose easy-borrowed pride
dwells in the sickly grace of her he follows
- Out, varlet, from my sight
- What means your grace?
Who stocked my servant? Regan,
I have good hope thou didst not know on't
Who comes here?
O heavens
If you do love old men, if you yourselves are old,
make it your cause, send down, and take my part
Art not ashamed to look upon this beard?
O Regan, will you take her by the hand?
Why not by the hand, sir?
How have I offended?
All's not offence that indiscretion finds
and dotage terms soe
O sides, you are too tough.
Will you yet hold?
How came my man in the stocks?
I set him there, sir. But his own disorders
deserved much less advancement
- You? Did you?
- 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 - Return to her? And fifty men dismissed?
No, rather I abjure all roofs
And choose 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
Return with her? Persuade me rather to be
slave and sumpter to this detested groom
- At your choice, sir
- 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
Mend when thou canst,
be better at thy leisure
I can be patient, I can stay with Regan,
I and my hundred knights
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
- Is this well spoken?
- 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
Why might not you, my lord, receive attendance
from those that she calls servants, or from mine?
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
- I gave you all
- And in good time you gave it
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?
- And speak it again, my lord. No
more with me - I'll go with thee
Thy fifty yet doth double five-and-twenty,
and thou art twice her love
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?
- What need one?
- 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
wearest, 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 stir 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,
but this heart shall break into a
hundred thousand flaws, or ere I'll weep
O fool, I shall go mad
Let us withdraw, 'twill be a storm
This house is little. The old man and
his people cannot be well bestowed
'Tis his own blame hath put himself
from rest and must needs taste his folly
For his particular, I'll receive
him gladly, but not one follower
So am I purposed
- Where is my lord of Gloucester?
- Followed the old man forth, he is returned
- The king is in high rage
- Whither is he going?
- He calls to horse, but will I know not whither
- 'Tis best to give him way, he leads himself
- My lord, entreat him by no means to stay
- Alack, the night comes on
And the high winds do sorely ruffle,
for many miles about there's scarce a bush
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
Shut up your doors, my lord, 'tis a wild night.
My Regan counsels well, come out of the storm
- Who's there, besides foul weather?
- One minded like the weather, most unquietly
- I know you. Where's the king?
- Contending with the fretful elements
Bids the wind blow the earth into the sea,
that things might change or cease
- But who is with him?
- None but the fool...
who labours to out-jest
his heart-struck injuries
Sir, I do know you, and dare, upon the warrant
of my note commend a dear thing to you
From France there comes a power
into this scattered kingdom...
who already, wise in our negilence, have
secret feet in some of our best ports...
and are at point
to show their outward banner
Now to you. If on my credit you dare build
so far to make your speed to Dover...
you shall find some that will thank you
Making just report of how unnatural and
bemadding sorrow the king hath cause to plain
- I will talk further with you
- 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
Let's go seek the king.
He that first lights on him holla the other
Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks
Rage, blow, you cataracts and hurricanoes
Spout till you have drenched our steeples,
drowned the cocks
You sulphurous and thought-executing fires,
vaunt-couriers of oak-cleaving thunderbolts...
singe my white head
And you, all-shaking thunder,
smite flat the thick rotundity of the world
Crack nature's moulds, all germens
spill at once, that makes ingrateful man
O, nuncle, court holy-water in a dry house
were 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
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 have with two pernicious daughters...
join your high engendered battles against a
head so old and white as this. Oh ho, 'tis foul
He that has a house to put his head in
has a good head-piece
The cod-piece that will house
before the head has any...
the head and he shall louse,
so beggars marry many
No, I will be the pattern of all patience,
I will say nothing
Who's there?
Marry, here's grace and a cod-piece,
that's a wise man and a fool
Alas, sir, are you here? Things that
love night love not such nights as these
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
the affliction nor the fear
Let the great gods, that keep this dreadful
pudder o'er our heads, find out their enemies now
I am a man
more sinned against than sinning
Alack, bare-headed?
Gracious my lord, hard by here is a hovel
Some friendship will it lend you
against the tempest. Repose you there
My wits begin to turn
Come on, my boy, how dost, my boy?
Art cold?
I am cold myself.
Where is this straw, my fellow?
Poor fool and knave, I have one part
in my heart that's sorry yet for thee
He that has and a little tiny wit,
with hey, ho, the wind and the rain...
- must make content with his fortunes
fit - Though the rain it raineth every day
True, boy.
Come, bring us to this hovel
Alack, alack, Edmund,
I like not this unnatural dealing
When I desired their leave that I might pity the
king, they took from me the use of mine own house
Charged me on pain of perpetual displeasure neither to
speak of him, entreat for him, or any way sustain him
- Most savage and unnatural
- Go to, say you nothing
I have received a letter this night,
'tis dangerous to be spoken
There is a French power already footed.
We must incline to the king
I will look 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 strange things toward, Edmund.
Pray you be careful
This courtesy forbid thee shall the duke
instantly know, and of this letter too
This seems a fair deserving and must draw me
that which my father loses, no less than all
The younger rises when the old doth fall
Here is the place, my lord.
Good my lord, enter
The tyranny of the open night's too rough
for nature to endure
- Let me alone
- Good my lord, enter here
- Wilt break my heart?
- I had rather break mine own. Good my lord, enter
Thou think'st 'tis much that this contentious
storm invades us to the skin. So 'tis to thee
But where the greater malady is fixed
the lesser is scarce felt
The tempest in my mind doth from
my senses take all feeling else...
save what beats
there, filial ingratitude
No, I will weep no more
In such a night to shut me out?
Pour on, I will endure
In such a night as this? O Regan, Goneril, your
old kind father, whose frank heart gave all
O, that way madness lies, let me shun that.
No more of that
- Good my lord, enter here - Prithee
go in thyself, seek thine own ease
This tempest will not give me leave
to ponder on things would hurt me more
But I'll go in.
In, boy, go first
You houseless poverty... Nay, get thee in.
I'll pray, and then I'll sleep
Poor naked wretches, wheresover you are,
that bide the pelting of this pitiless storm
How shall your houseless heads and unfed
sides, your lopped and windowed raggedness...
defend you from seasons such as these?
O, I have taken too little care of this
Take physic, pomp.
Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel
That thou mayst shake the superflux to
them, and show the heavens more just
Fathom and half, fathom and half!
Poor Tom
Come not in here, nuncle, here's a spirit.
Help me, help me
- Give me thy hand. Who's there?
- A spirit, a spirit. He says his name's poor Tom
What art thou that dost grumble
there in the straw? Come forth
Away, away, away!
The foul fiend follows me
Through the sharp hawthorn blow the winds
Go to thy bed and warm thee
Did'st thou give all to thy daughters?
And art thou come to this?
Who gives anything to poor Tom?
Whom the foul fiend hath led
through fire and through flame,
through ford and whirlpool,
o'er bog and quagmire
That hath laid knives under his pillow, and
halters in his pew, set ratsbane by his porridge
Made him proud of heart,
to course his own shadow for a traitor
Bless thy five wits! Tom's a-cold. Bless thee
from whirlwinds, star-blasting and taking
Do poor Tom some charity,
whom the foul fiend vexes
There could I have him now... and there...
and there again, and there
Has his daughters brought him to this pass? Couldst
thou save nothing? Wouldst thou give them all?
Nay, he reserved a blanket,
else we had been all shamed
Now, all the plagues that in the pendulous air hang
fated over men's faults light on thy daughters
- He hath no daughters, sir
- Death, traitor
Nothing could have subdued nature
to such a lowness but his pelican daughters
Pillicock sat on Pillicock-hill
This cold night will turn
us all to fools and madmen
Take heed of the foul fiend. Obey thy
parents, keep thy word's justice, swear not
Commit not with man's sworn spouse, set not
thy sweetheart on proud array. Tom's a-cold
What hast thou been?
A servingman, proud in heart and mind,
that curled my hair, wore gloves in my cap
Served the lust of my mistress' heart,
and did the act of darkness with her
Swore as many oaths as I spake words,
and broke them in the sweet face of heaven
One that slept in the contriving of lust,
and waked to do it
Wine loved I deeply, dice dearly,
and in woman out-paramoured the Turk
Let not the creaking of shoes nor the rustling
of silks betray thy poor heart to woman
Keep thy foot out of brothels, thy hand
out of plackets, and defy the foul fiend
Still through the hawthorn blows
the cold wind, says suum, mun, nonny
Dolphin my boy, boy sessa!
Let him trot by
Thou wert better in a grave than to answer with
thy uncovered body this extremity of the skies
Is man no more than this?
Consider him well
Thou owest the worm no silk, the beast no
hide, the sheep no wool, the cat no perfume
Ha? Here's three on's are sophisticated.
Thou art the thing itself
Unaccommodated man is no more but such
a poor bare, forked animal as thou art
Off, off, you lendings.
Come, unbutton here
Prithee, nuncle, be contented,
'tis a naughty night to swim in
Look, here comes a walking fire
This is the foul Flibbertigibbet. He begins
at curfew and walks till the first cock
He gives the web and the pin,
squinnies the eye and makes the hare-lip
Mildews the white wheat, and hurts the poor
creature of earth. Aroint thee, witch, aroint thee!
- How fares your grace?
- What's he?
- Who's there? What is't you seek?
- What are you there? Your names?
Poor Tom, that eats the swimming frog, the
toad, the tadpole, the wall-newt and the water
That in the fury of his heart, when the
foul fiend rages, eats cow-dung for salads
Swallows the old rat and the ditch-dog,
drinks the green mantle of the standing pool
Who is whipped from tithing to tithing,
and stocked, punished and imprisoned
Who hath had three suits to my back,
six shirts to my body
Horse to ride, and weapon to wear,
but mice and rats and such small deer...
have been Tom's food for seven long year
Beware my follower.
Peace, Smulkin, peace, thou fiend
What, hath your grace no better company?
The prince of darkness is a gentleman.
Modo he's called, and Mahu
Our flesh and blood, my lord, is grown
so vile, that it doth hate what gets it
Poor Tom's a-cold
Go in with me. My duty cannot suffer to
obey in all your daughters' hard commands
Though their injunction be to bar my doors and
let this tyrannous night take hold upon you...
yet have I ventured to come seek you out and
bring you where both fire and food is ready
First let me talk with this philosopher.
What is the cause of thunder?
Good my lord, take his offer.
Go into the house
I'll talk a word with this same learned
Theban. Let me ask you one word in private
Importune him once more to go, my lord.
His wits begin to unsettle
Canst thou blame him?
His daughters seek his death
Ah, that good Kent.
He said it would be thus, poor banished man
Thou sayest the king grows mad. I'll
tell thee, friend, I am almost mad myself
I had a son, now outlawed from my blood.
He sought my life but lately, very late
I loved him, friend, no father his son dearer.
True to tell thee, the grief hath crazed my wits
What a night's this!
I do beseech your grace
O, cry you mercy, sir.
Noble philosopher, your company
- Tom's a-cold - In, fellow, there,
into the hovel. Keep thee warm
- Come let's in all
- This way, my lord
With him,
I will keep still with my philosopher
Good my lord, soothe him.
Let him take the fellow
- Take him you on
- Sirrah, come on, go along with us
- Come, good Athenian
- No words, no words, hush
Child Rowland to the dark tower came
His word was still fie, foh and fum,
I smell the blood of a British man
I will have my revenge
ere I depart your father's house
This is the letter he spoke of, which approves him
an intelligent party to the advantages of France
O heavens! That this treason
were not, or not I the detector
Go with me to the duchess. If the matter of this
paper be certain, you have mighty business in hand
True or false,
it hath made thee Earl of Gloucester
Seek out where thy father is,
that he may be ready for our apprehension
I will persevere in my course of loyalty, though
the conflict be sore between that and my blood
I will lay trust upon thee, and thou
shalt find a dearer father in my love
Here is better than the
open air, take it thankfully
I will piece out the comfort
with what addition I can
The gods reward your kindness
Frateretto calls me, and tells me
Nero is an angler in the lake of darkness
Pray, innocent, and beware the foul fiend
Prithee, nuncle, tell me whether a
madman be a gentleman or a yeoman?
- A king, a king - No, he's a yeoman
that has a gentleman to his son
For he's a mad yeoman
that sees his son a gentleman before him
To have a thousand with red burning spits
come hizzing in upon 'em
The foul fiend bites my back
He's mad that trusts in the tameness of a wolf, a
horse's health, a boy's love, or a whore's oath
It shall be done. I will arraign them straight.
Come, sit thou here, most learned justice
Thou, sapient, sir, sit here.
No, you she-foxes
Look where he stands and glares!
Want'st thou eyes at trial, madam?
- Come o'er the bourn, Bessy, to me
- Her boat hath a leak
And she must not speak
why she dares not come over to thee
The foul fiend haunts poor Tom
in the voice of a nightingale
Hoppedance cries in Tom's belly
for two white herring
Croak not, black angel,
I have no food for thee
How do you, sir? Stand you not so amazed.
Will you lie down and rest upon the cushions?
I'll see their trial first.
Bring in the evidence
Thou robed man of justice, take thy place
And thou, his yoke-fellow of equity,
bench by his side
You are of the commission,
sit you too
Let us deal justly
Sleepest or wakest thou, jolly shepherd?
Thy sheep be in the corn
And for one blast of thy minikin mouth
thy sheep shall take no harm
Purr, the cat is grey
I here take my oath before this honourable
assembly, she kicked the poor king her father
I here take my oath before this honourable
assembly, she kicked the poor king her father
- Come hither, mistress. Is your name Goneril?
- She cannot deny it
Cry you mercy, I took you for a joint-stool
And here's another whose warped looks
proclaim what store her heart is made on
Stop her there!
Arms, arms, sword, fire!
Corruption in the place. False
justicer, why hast thou let her 'scape?
Bless thy five wits!
O pity! Sir, where is the patience now
that you so oft have boasted to retain?
My tears begin to take his part so much
they mar my counterfeiting
The little dogs and all, Trey, Blanch
and Sweetheart, see, they bark at me
Tom will throw his head at them.
Avaunt, you curs!
Mastiff, greyhound, mongrel grim,
hound or spaniel, brach or him
Or bobtail tyke or trundle-tail,
Tom will make them weep and wail
For, with throwing thus my head,
dogs leapt the hatch, and all are fled
Sessa! Come, march to wakes and fairs
and market towns. Poor Tom, thy horn is dry
Then let them anatomize Regan.
See what breeds about her heart
Is there any cause in nature
that make these hard hearts?
You, sir, I entertain for one of my hundred.
Only I do not like the fashion of your garments
You will say they are Persian,
but let them be changed
Now, good my lord, lie here and rest awhile
Make no noise, make no noise,
draw the curtains
- So, so, we'll go to supper in the morning
- And I'll go to bed at noon
- Come hither, friend. Where is the king my master?
- Here, sir, but trouble him not. His wits are gone
I have overheard a plot of death upon him
Here is a litter ready, lay him in it
and drive toward Dover, friend...
where thou shalt meet
both welcome and protection
Take up thy master.
If thou shouldst dally half an hour...
his life, with thine and all that offer
to defend him stand in assured loss.
Take up, take up
When we our betters see bearing our woes,
we scarcely think our miseries our foes
How light and portable my pain seems now, when
that which makes me bend makes the king bow
He childed as I fathered
Oppressed nature sleeps. This rest
might yet have balmed his broken sinews
- Come, help to bear thy master.
Thou must not stay behind - Come, come away
Tom, away.
Mark the high noises, and thyself bewray
What will halp more tonight,
safe 'scape the king. Lurk, lurk
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...
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 in the field,
and bawds and whores do churches build...
then shall the realm of Albion
come to great confusion
Then comes the time, who lives to see it,
that going shall be used with feet
This prophecy Merlin shall make,
for I live before his time
The army of France is landed
- Go fetch the traitor Gloucester
- Hang him instantly
- Pluck out his eyes
- Leave him to my displeasure
Edmund, keep you our sister company
The revenges we are bound to take upon your
traitorous father are not fit for your beholding
Farewell, dear sister,
farewell, my lord of Gloucester
- How now? Where's the king?
- Old Gloucester hath conveyed him hence
Some gone with him to Dover,
where they boast to have well-armed friends
- Get horses for your mistress
- Farewell, sweet lord, and sister
- Who's there? The traitor?
- Ingrateful fox! 'Tis he
Bind fast his corky arms
What means your graces?
Good my friends, consider you are my guests
- Do me no foul play, friends
- Bind him, I say
- Hard, hard. O filthy traitor
- Unmerciful lady as you are, I'm none
To the chair, bind him.
Villain, thou shalt find...
By the kind gods, 'tis most ignobly done
to pluck me by the beard
So white, and such a traitor?
Naughty lady, I am your host.
You should not ruffle thus
What will you do?
- Come, sir, what letters had you late from France?
- Be simple answered, for we know the truth
And what confederacy have you with the
traitors late footed in the kingdom?
To whose hands you have
sent the lunatic king? Speak
I have a letter guessingly set down...
which came from one that's of a
neutral heart, and not from one opposed
- Cunning
- And false
- Where hast thou sent the king?
- To Dover
Wherefore to Dover?
Wast thou not charged at peril...
- Wherefore to Dover? Let him answer that
- Wherefore to Dover?
Because I would not see thy cruel nails
pluck out his poor old eyes
Nor thy fierce sister
in his anointed flesh stick boarish fangs
But I shall see the winged vengeance
overtake such children
See it shalt thou never.
Fellows, hold the chair
Upon these eyes of thine I'll set my foot
He that will think to live till he be old,
give me some help
O cruel! O you gods!
One side will mock another. The other too
- If you see vengeance...
- Hold your hand, my lord
I have served you ever
since I was a child...
but better service have I never done you
than now to bid you hold
How now, you dog?
If you did wear a beard upon your chin,
I'd shake it on this quarrel
- What do you mean?
- My villain?
Nay, then, come on, and
take the chance of anger
Give me thy sword. A peasant stand up thus?
O, I am slain. My lord, you have one
eye left to see some mischief on him
Lest it see more, prevent it
Out, vile jelly.
Where is thy lustre now?
All dark and comfortless.
Where is my son Edmund?
Edmund, enkindle all the sparks of nature
to quit this horrid act
Out, treacherous villain.
Thou call'st on him that hates thee
It was he that made the
overture of thy treasons to us
O, my follies! Then Edgar was abused.
Kind gods, forgive me that, and prosper him
Go thrust him out at gates,
and let him smell his way to Dover
How is it, my lord? How look you?
I have received a hurt, follow me, lady
Turn out that eyeless villain.
Throw this slave upon the dunghill
Regan, I bleed apace
Untimely comes this hurt. Give me your arm
I'll never care what wickedness I do,
if this can come to good
If she live long and in the end meet the old
course of death, women will all turn monsters
Let's follow the old earl and get
the Bedlam to lead him where he would
Go thou. I'll fetch some flax and whites
of eggs to apply to his bleeding face
Now, heaven help him
Yet better thus, and known to be contemned,
than still contemned and flattered
To be worst, the lowest and most dejected thing of
fortune, stands still in esperance, lives not in fear
The lamentable change is from the best,
the worst returns to laughter
Welcome, then,
thou unsubstantial air that I embrace
The wretch that thou hast blown unto
the worst owes nothing to thy blasts
But who comes here?
My father, poorly led?
World, world, O world
But that thy strange mutations make us
hate thee, life would not yield to age
O, my good lord, I have been your tenant and
your father's tenant these fourscore years
Away, get thee away. Good friend, be gone
Thy comforts can do me no good at all,
thee they may hurt
- You cannot see your way
- I have no way and therefore want no eyes
I stumbled when I saw
O dear son Edgar. Might I but live to see
thee in my touch, I'd say I had eyes again
How now? Who's there?
O gods! Who is't can say, 'I am at
the worst'? I am worse than e'er I was
'Tis poor mad Tom
And worse I may be yet. The worst is not
so long as we can say 'This is the worst'
- Fellow, where goest?
- Is it a beggar-man?
- Madman and beggar too
- He has some reason, else he could not beg
In the last night's storm I such a fellow
saw, which made me think a man a worm
My son came then into my mind and yet
my mind was then scarce friends with him
I have heard more since
As flies to wanton boys are we to the gods,
they kill us for their sport
- Bless thee, master
- Is that the naked fellow?
- Ay, my lord
I prithee, get thee gone
If for my sake thou wilt o'ertake us hence
a mile or twain in the way toward Dover...
do it for ancient love, and bring some covering
for this naked soul, which I'll entreat to lead me
- Alack, sir, he is mad - 'Tis the
time's plague, when madmen lead the blind
Do as I bid thee, or rather do thy
pleasure. Above the rest, be gone
I'll bring him the best 'pparel
that I have, come on it what will
- Sirrah, naked fellow - Poor Tom's a-cold.
I cannot daub it further
- Come hither, fellow
- And yet I must
Bless thy sweet eyes, they bleed
- Knowest thou the way to Dover?
- Both stile and gate, horseway and footpath
Here, take this purse, thou whom the
heavens' plagues have humbled to all strokes
That I am wretched makes thee the happier.
Heavens, deal so still
Let the superfluous and lust-dieted man,
that slaves your ordinance...
that will not see because he does
not feel, feel your power quickly
So distribution should undo excess,
and each man have enough
- Dost thou know Dover?
- Ay, master
There is a cliff, whose high and bending
head looks fearfully in the confined deep
Bring me but to the very brim of it
and from that place I shall no leading need
Give me thy arm.
Poor Tom shall lead thee
Welcome, my lord. I marvel our
mild husband not met us on the way
- Now, where's your master?
- Madam, within, but never man so changed
I told him of the army that was landed,
he smiled at it
I told him you were coming,
his answer was 'The worse'
Of Gloucester's treachery and of the loyal
service of his son when I informed him...
then he called me 'sot'
and told me I had turned the wrong side out
It is the cowish terror of his spirit,
that dares not undertake
He'll not feel wrongs
which tie him to an answer
Back, Edmund, to my brother.
Hasten his musters and conduct his powers
I must change names at home and give
the distaff into my husband's hands
This trusty servant
shall pass between us
Ere long you are like to hear, if you dare
venture in your own behalf, a mistress's command
Wear this, spare speech
Decline your head
This kiss, if it durst speak,
would stretch thy spirits up into the air
- Conceive, and fare thee well
- Yours in the ranks of death
My most dear Gloucester.
To thee a woman's services are due
My fool usurps my body
O, the difference of man and man!
- Madam, here comes my lord
- I have been worth the whistle
O Goneril, you are not worth the dust
which the rude wind blows in your face
Milk-livered man, that bear'st a
cheek for blows, a head for wrongs
Who hast not in thy brows an eye discerning
thine honour from thy suffering
Where's thy drum? France spreads
his banners in our noiseless land
Whilst thou, a moral fool, sits still
and cries 'Alack, why does he so?'
See thyself, devil. Proper deformity shows
not in the fiend so horrid as in woman
Marry, your manhood, mew
- O, my good lord, the Duke of
Cornwall's dead - Slain by his servant
- Going to put out the other eye
of Gloucester - Gloucester's eyes?
- A servant that he bred...
- Thrilled with remorse...
- Opposed against the act...
- did bend his sword to his great master
This shows you are above, you justices, that
these our nether crimes so speedily can venge
- But, O, poor Gloucester. Lost he his other eye?
- Both, my lord
This letter, madam, craves a speedy answer.
'Tis from your sister
One way I like this well. But being
widow, and my Gloucester with her...
may all the building in my fancy
pluck upon my hateful life
Another way, the news is not so tart.
I'll read, and answer
- Where was Edmund when they did take his eyes?
- Come with my lady hither
- He is not here
- No, my good lord, we met him back again
- Knows he the wickedness?
- Ay, my good lord
- 'Twas he informed against him
- And quit the house on purpose...
that their punishment
might have the freer course
Gloucester, I live to thank thee for the love
thou showed'st the king and to revenge thine eyes
Come hither, friends.
Tell me what more thou knowest
Alack, 'tis he. Why, he was met even now
as mad as the vexed sea, singing aloud
Crowned with rank fumiter and furrow weeds,
with burdocks, hemlock, nettles...
cuckoo-flowers, darnel, and all the
idle weeds that grow in our sustaining corn
A sentry send forth. Search every acre in the
high-grown field and bring him to our eye
What can man's wisdom
in the restoring his bereaved sense?
There is means, madam
Our foster-nurse of nature is repose, the
which he lacks. That to provoke in him...
are many simples operative,
whose power will close the eye of anguish
All blest secrets, all you unpublished
virtues of the earth, spring with my tears
Be aidant and remediate
in the good man's distress
Seek, seek for him, lest his ungoverned rage
dissolve the life that wants the means to lead it
News, madam.
The British powers are marching hitherward
'Tis known before. Our preparation
stands in expectation of them
O dear father,
it is thy business that I go about
No blown ambition doth our arms incite, but
love, dear love, and our aged father's right
Soon may I hear and see him
But are my brother's powers set forth?
- Ay, madam
- Himself in person there?
Madam, with much ado.
Your sister is the better soldier
- Lord Edmund spake not with your lord at home?
- No, madam
- What might import my sister's letter to him?
- I know not, lady
Faith, he is posted hence on serious matter
It was great ignorance, Gloucester's
eyes being out, to let him live
Where he arrives he moves
all hearts against us
Edmund, I think, is gone, in pity of
his misery, to dispatch his nighted life
Moreover, to descry
the strength of the enemy
I must needs after him, madam,
with my lady's letter
Why should she write to Edmund? Might
not you transport her purposes by word?
Belike, some things I know not what...
- I'll love thee much, let me unseal
the letter - Madam, I had rather...
I know your lady does not love her husband, I
am sure of that. And at her late being here...
she gave strange oeillades
and most speaking looks to noble Edmund
- I know you are of her bosom
- I, madam?
I speak in understanding. You are, I know it.
Therefore I do advise, take note of this
My lord is dead.
Edmund and I have talked
And more convenient is he for my hand
than for your lady's. So, fare you well
If you do chance to hear of that blind traitor,
preferment falls on him that cuts him off
Would I could meet, madam,
I should show what party I do follow
Fare thee well
- When shall I come to the top of that same hill?
- You do climb up it now, look how we labour
- Methinks the ground is even
- Horrible steep
- Hark, do you hear the sea?
- No, truly
Why, then, your other senses
grow imperfect by your eyes' anguish
So may it be, indeed
Methinks thy voice is altered and thou speakest
in better phrase and matter than thou didst
You're much deceived.
In nothing am I changed but in my garments
Methinks you're better spoken
Come on, sir, here's the place, stand still
How fearful and dizzy it is
to cast one's eyes so low
The crows and choughs that wing the
midway air show scarce so gross as beetles
Half way down hangs one
that gathers samphire, dreadful trade
Methinks he seems no bigger than his head
The fishermen that walk upon the beach
appear like mice
And yond tall anchoring bark
diminished to her cock...
her cock,
a buoy almost too small for sight
The murmuring surge, that on the unnumbered
idle pebbles chafes, cannot be heard so high
I'll look no more, lest my brain turn, and
the deficient sight topple down headlong
- Set me where you stand
- Give me your hand
You are now within a foot of the extreme verge.
For all beneath the moon would I not leap upright
Let go my hand. Here, friend, is a
jewel well worth a poor man's taking
Fairies and gods
prosper it with thee
Go thou further off.
Bid me farewell, and let me hear thee going
- Now fare ye well, good sir
- With all my heart
Why I do trifle thus with his despair
is done to cure it
O you mighty gods
This world I do renounce, and in your sights
shake patiently my great affliction off
If I could bear it longer, and not fall to
quarrel with your great opposeless wills...
my snuff and loathed part of nature
should burn itself out
If Edgar live, O bless him
Now, fellow...
Fare thee well
Had he been where he thought,
by this had thought been past
Alive or dead?
Ho, you sir, friend! Hear you, sir, speak!
Thus might he pass indeed
- What are you, sir?
- Away, and let me die
Hadst thou been aught but gossamer, feathers,
air, so many fathom down precipitating...
thou'dst shivered like an egg
But thou dost breathe, hast heavy substance,
bleed'st not, speak'st, art sound
Thy life's a miracle. Speak yet again
- But have I fallen or no?
- From the dread summit of this chalky bourn
Look up a-height. The shrill-gorged lark so
far cannot be seen or heard. Do but look up
Alack, I have no eyes
Is wretchedness deprived that benefit,
to end itself by death?
Give me your hand.
Up, so. How is it? Feel you your legs?
- You stand
- Too well, too well
This is above all strangeness.
Upon the crown of the cliff...
- what thing was that which parted from you?
- A poor unfortunate beggar
As I stood here below, methought his eyes
were two full moons
He had a thousand noses, horns
whelked and waved like the enraged sea
It was some fiend
Therefore, thou happy father, think that
the clearest gods have preserved thee
I do remember now. Henceforth I'll bear affliction
till it do cry out itself 'Enough, enough' and die
No, they cannot touch me for coining,
I am the king himself
O thou side-piercing sight
Nature's above art in that respect.
There's your press-money
That fellow handles his bow like a
crow-keeper. Draw me a clothier's yard
Look, look, a mouse
Peace, peace,
this piece of toasted cheese will do it
There's my gauntlet, I'll prove it
on a giant. Bring up the brown bills
O, well flown, bird!
In the clout, in the clout
- Give the word
- Sweet marjoram
- Pass
- I know that voice
Ha? Goneril with a white beard?
They flattered me like a dog and told me I had the
white hairs in my beard ere the black ones were there
To say 'ay' and 'no' to everything that I
said 'ay' and 'no' to was no good divinity
When the rain came to wet me once
and the wind to make me chatter...
when the thunder would not peace at my bidding,
there I found them, there I smelt them out
Go to, they are not men of their words. They told me
I was everything. 'Tis a lie, I am not ague-proof
The trick of that voice I do well remember.
Is it not the king?
Ay, every inch a king.
When I do stare, see how the subject quakes
I pardon that man's life
What was thy cause? Adultery?
Thou shalt not die. Die for adultery? No
The wren goes to it and the small
gilded fly does lecher in my sight
Let copulation thrive
For Gloucester's bastard son was kinder to his father
than were my daughters got 'tween the lawful sheets
To it, luxury, pell-mell,
for I lack soldiers
Behold yond simpering dame,
whose face between her forks presages snow
That minces virtue and does shake the head
to hear of pleasure's name
The fitchew nor the soiled horse goes to it
with a more riotous appetite
Down from the waist they are centaurs,
though women all above
But to the girdle do the gods inherit,
beneath is all the fiend's
There's hell, there's darkness,
there is the sulphurous pit
Burning, scalding, stench, consumption.
Fie, fie, fie, pah, pah!
Give me an ounce of civet, good apothecary,
sweeten my imagination. There's money for thee
- O, let me kiss that hand - Let me
wipe it first, it smells of mortality
O, ruined piece of nature. This great world
shall so wear out to nought
- Dost thou know me?
- I remember thine eyes well enough
Dost thou squinny at me? No, do thy
worst, blind Cupid, I'll not love
- Read thou this challenge, mark but the penning
of it - Were all thy letters suns, I could not see
I would not take this from report.
It is, and my heart breaks at it
- Read
- What, with the case of eyes?
O, ho, are you there with me? No eyes in
your head, nor no money in your purse?
Your eyes are in a heavy case, your purse
in a light, yet you see how this world goes
- I see it feelingly
- What, art mad?
A man may see how this world goes
with no eyes. Look with thine ears
See how yond justice rails upon yond
simple thief. Hark, in thine ear
Change places, and handy-dandy,
which is the justice, which is the thief?
Thou hast seen a farmer's
dog bark at a beggar?
- Ay, sir
- And the creature run from the cur?
There thou mightst behold the great image
of authority. A dog's obeyed in office
Through tattered clothes great vices do
appear. Robes and furred gowns hide all
Plate sins with gold, and the strong
lance of justice hurtless breaks
Arm it in rags, a pigmy's
straw does pierce it
None does offend, none, I say, none
Get thee glass eyes, and like a scurvy
politician seem to see the things thou dost not
Now, now, now, now.
Pull off my boots. Harder, harder, so
Reason in madness
If thou wilt weep my fortunes, take my eyes
I know thee well enough,
thy name is Gloucester
Thou must be patient. We came crying hither
Thou knowest the first time that
we smell the air we wall and cry
- I will preach to thee, mark
- Alack, alack the day
When we are born, we cry that we are come
to this great stage of fools
This is a good block. It were a delicate
stratagem to shoe a troop of horse with felt
I'll put it in proof, and when I
have stolen upon these son-in-laws...
then kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill
O, here he is, lay hand upon him.
Sir, your most dear daughter...
No rescue? What, a prisoner?
I am even the natural fool of fortune
Use me well, you shall have ransom. Let
me have surgeons, I am cut to the brains
You shall have anything
No seconds? All myself?
Why, this would make a man a man of salt
to use his eyes for garden water-pots
I will die bravely, like a smug bridegroom
What? I will be jovial
Come, come, I am a king,
masters, know you that?
You are a royal one, and we obey you
Then there's life in it. Come, an you
get it, you shall get it by running
You ever-gentle gods,
take my breath from me
Let not my worser spirit tempt me again
to die before you please
Well pray you, father
- Now, good sir, what are you?
- A most poor man, made tame to fortune's blows
Who, by the art of known and feeling
sorrows, am pregnant to good pity
Give me your hand
- I'll lead you to some biding
- Hearty thanks
The bounty and the benison of heaven
to boot, and boot
A proclaimed prize! Most happy
That eyeless head of thine
was first framed flesh to raise my fortunes
- The sword is out that must destroy thee - Now
let thy friendly hand put strength enough to it
Wherefore, bold peasant, darest thou
support a published traitor? Let go his arm
- I'll not let go, sir, without further
'casion - Let go, slave, or thou diest
Good gentleman, go your gait,
and let poor folk pass
- Nay, come not near the old man
- Out, dunghill
Slave, thou hast slain me
Villain, take my purse.
If ever thou wilt thrive, bury my body
And give the letters which thou findest about me
to Edmund, Earl of Gloucester. O, untimely death
- I know thee well, a serviceable villain
- What, is he dead?
Let's see these pockets. The letters
that he speaks of may be my friends
The king is mad. Better I were distract, so
should my thoughts be severed from my griefs
O, Goneril,
O, undistinguished space of woman's will!
A plot upon her virtuous husband's life,
and the exchange my brother
For Albany 'tis well
that of thy death and business I can tell
Give me thy hand. Far off, methinks,
I hear the beaten drum. Come, father
O thou good Kent
How shall I live and work
to match thy goodness?
My life will be too short,
and every measure fail me
To be acknowledged, madam, is overpaid
These weeds are memories of those
worser hours, I prithee put them off
Pardon, dear madam,
yet to be known shortens my made intent
My boon I make it, that you know me not
till time and I think meet
Then be it so, my good lord
- How does the king?
- Madam, sleeps still
O you kind gods,
cure this great breach in his abused nature
The untuned and jarring senses,
O, wind up of this child-changed father
So please your majesty
that we may wake the king
- He hath slept long - Be governed
by your knowledge, and proceed
Be by, good madam, when we do awake him.
I doubt of his temperance
Softer the music there
O my dear father! Restoration hang
thy medicine on my lips
And let this kiss repair those violent harms
that my two sisters have in thy reverence made
Kind and dear princess
Had you not been their father, these
white flakes did challenge pity of them
Was this a face
to be opposed against the jarring winds?
To stand against the deep
dread-bolted thunder...
in the most terrible and nimble stroke
of quick cross lightning?
Mine enemy's dog, though he had bit me,
should have stood that night against my fire
And wast thou fain, poor father,
to hovel thee with rogues forlorn?
Alack, 'tis wonder that thy life and wits
at once had not concluded all
- He wakes, speak to him
- Madam, do you. 'Tis fittest
How does my royal lord?
How fares your majesty?
You do me wrong to take me out of
the grave. Thou art a soul in bliss
But I am bound upon a wheel of fire, that
mine own tears do scald like molten lead
- Sir, do you know me?
- You are a spirit, I know. Where did you die?
- Still, still, far wide
- He's scarce awake, let him alone awhile
Where have I been? Where am I?
Fair daylight?
I am mightily abused. I should even
die with pity to see another thus
I know not what to say.
I will not swear these are my hands
Let's see. I feel this pinprick.
Would I were assured of my condition
O, look upon me, sir,
and hold your hand in benediction over me
- You must not kneel
- Pray, do not mock me
I am a very foolish fond old man,
fourscore and upward
And to deal plainly,
I fear I am not in my perfect mind
Methinks I should know you
and know this man, yet I am doubtful
For I am mainly ignorant
what place this is
And all the skill I have remembers not these garments,
nor I know not where I did lodge last night
Do not laugh at me, for, as I am a man,
I think this lady to be my child Cordelia
And so I am, I am
Be your tears wet? Yes, faith. I pray, weep
not. If you have poison for me, I will drink it
I know you do not love me, but your sisters
have, as I do remember, done me wrong
- You have some cause, they have not
- No cause, no cause
- Am I in France?
- In your own kingdom, sir
Do not abuse me
Be comforted, good madam.
The great rage, you see, is killed in him
- Desire him to go in
- Will it please your highness walk?
You must bear with me. Pray you now,
forget and forgive. I am old and foolish
Now, sweet lord,
you know the goodness I intend upon you
Tell me but truly, but then speak
the truth, do you not love my sister?
In honoured love
But have you never found my brother's way
to the forfended place?
That thought abuses you
I am doubtful that you have been conjunct
and bosomed with her
No, by mine honour, madam
I never shall endure her
- Dear my lord, be not familiar with her
- Fear not
She and the duke her husband
Our very loving sister, well be-met.
Sir, this I heard
The king is come to his daughter, with others
whom the rigour of our state forced to cry out
- Why is this reasoned?
- Where I could not be honest, I never yet was valiant
Combine together gainst the enemy,
for these domestic and particular broils
are not the question here
Let's then determine
with the ancient of war on our proceeding
- Sister, you'll go with us?
- No
- 'Tis most convenient. Pray, go with us
- Oho, I know the riddle. I will go
If ever your grace had speech
with man so poor, hear me one word
I'll overtake you.
Before you fight the
battle, ope this letter
If you have victory, let the trumpet sound
for him that brought it
Wretched though I seem, I can produce a
champion that will prove what is avouched there
- Fortune love you
- Stay till I have read the letter
I was forbid it. When time shall serve, let
but the herald cry and I'll appear again
Why, fare thee well.
I will overlook thy paper
The enemy's in view, draw up your powers
- Your haste is urged
- And we will greet the time
To both these sisters have I sworn my love
Each jealous of the other,
as the stung are of the adder
Which of them shall I take?
Both? One? Or neither?
Neither can be enjoyed
if both remain alive
To take the widow exasperates,
makes mad her sister Goneril
And hardly shall I carry out my side,
her husband being alive
Now then, we'll use his countenance
for the battle, which being done...
let her who would be rid of him
devise his speedy taking off
As for the mercy
which he intends to Lear and to Cordelia...
the battle done and they within
our power, shall never see his pardon
For my state stands on me to defend,
not to debate
Here, father, take the shadow of this tree
for your good host
Pray that the right may thrive. If ever I
appear to you again, I'll bring you comfort
Grace go with you, sir
Away, old man. Give me thy hand, away!
King Lear hath lost, he and his daughter
taken. Give me thy hand, come on
- No further, sir. A man may rot even here
- What, in ill thoughts again?
Men must endure their going hence,
even as their coming hither
- Ripeness is all
- And that's true too
Some officers take them away
Good guard, until their greater pleasures
first be known that are to censure them
We are not the first who with best
meaning have incurred the worst
For thee, oppressed king, I am cast down. Myself
could else out-frown false fortune's frown
- Shall we not see these daughters and these sisters?
- No, no, no, no
Come, let's away to prison. We two
alone will sing like birds in the cage
When thou dost ask me blessing,
I'll kneel down and ask of thee forgiveness
So we'll live, and pray, and sing, and tell
old tales, and laugh at gilded butterflies
And hear poor rogues talk of court
news, and we'll talk with them too
Who loses and who wins,
who's in, who's out
And take upon us the mystery of things,
as if we were God's spies
Take them away
Upon such sacrifices, my Cordelia,
the gods themselves throw incense
He that parts us shall bring a brand
from heaven and fire us hence like foxes
Wipe thine eyes. The good years shall devour them,
flesh and fell, ere they shall make us weep
We'll see them starved first.
Come hither, captain, hark,
go follow them to prison
If thou dost as this instructs thee,
thou dost make thy way to noble fortunes
- Either say thou'lt do it, or thrive
by other means - I'll do it, my lord
Sir, you have showed today your valiant
strain, and fortune led you well
You have the captives who were the opposites
of this day's strife. I do require them of you
Sir, I thought it fit to send
the old and miserable king
to some retention and appointed guard
With him I sent the queen, Cordelia, and they are ready
to appear anon where you shall hold your session
Sir, by your patience, I hold you
but a subject of this war, not as a brother
That's as we list to grace him. He led our powers,
bore the commission of my place and person
The which immediacy may well stand up
and call itself your brother
Not so hot. In his own grace he doth
exalt himself more than in your addition
In my rights, by me invested,
he compeers the best
- That were the most if he should husband
you - Jesters do oft prove prophets
Holla, holla! That eye that
told you so looked but asquint
Lady, I am not well, else I should answer
from a full-flowing stomach
take thou my soldiers, prisoners, patrimony
Witness the world that I create thee here
my lord and master
- Mean you to enjoy him?
- The let-alone lies not in your good will
- Nor in thine, lord
- Half-blooded fellow, yes
- Let the drum strike and prove my
title thine - Stay yet, hear reason
Edmund, I arrest thee on capital treason,
and, in thy arrest, this gilded serpent
For your claim, fair sister,
I bar it in the interest of my wife
'Tis she is subcontracted to this lord,
and I, her husband, contradict your banns
If you will marry, make your loves to me,
my lady is bespoke
An interlude!
Thou art armed, Gloucester.
Let the trumpet sound
If none appear to prove upon thy person
thy heinous, manifest, and many treasons...
there is my pledge,
I'll make it on thy heart
Sick, O, sick
If not, I'll never trust medicine
Here is my exchange. What in the world he is
that calls me traitor, villain-like he lies
He that dares approach, on him, on you,
who not...
- I will maintain my truth
and honour firmly - A herald, ho
- My sickness grows upon me
- She is not well, convey her to my tent
Come hither, herald, and read out this
If any man of quality or degree will maintain
upon Edmund, supposed Earl of Gloucester...
that he is a manifold traitor, let him
appear by the third sound of the trumpet
Ask him his purposes
What are you? Your name, your quality,
and why you answer this present summons?
Know, my name is lost by treason's tooth
bare-gnawn and canker-bit
- Yet am I noble as the adversary I
come to cope - Which is that adversary?
- What's he that speaks for Edmund Earl of Gloucester?
- Himself. What sayest thou to him?
Thou art a traitor, false to thy
gods, thy brother, and thy father
In wisdom I should ask thy name, but since
thy outside looks so fair and warlike...
back do I toss these treasons
to thy head. Trumpets, speak!
Save him, save him
This is practice, Edmund. By the law of war thou
wast not bound to answer an unknown opposite
Thou art not vanquished,
but cozened and beguiled
Shut your mouth, dame, or with this
paper shall I stop it. Hold, sir
Thou worse than any name, read thine own evil.
No tearing, lady, I perceive you know it
Say, if I do, the laws are mine, not thine.
Who can arraign me for it?
Most monstrous!
Go after her, she's desperate. Govern her
- O, knowest thou this paper?
- Ask me not what I know
What you have charged me with,
that have I done, and more, much more
The time will bring it out.
'Tis past and so am I
- But what art thou?
- My name is Edgar, and thy father's son
The gods are just, and of our pleasant
vices make instruments to plague us
The dark and vicious place where he thee
got cost him his eyes
Thou hast spoken right, 'tis true.
The wheel is come full circle. I am here
- How have you known the miseries of your father?
- By nursing them, my lord
I met my father with his bleeding rings, their
precious stones new lost, became his guide
Never, O fault, revealed myself unto him
until some half-hour past
But his flawed heart,
alack, too weak the conflict to support...
'twixt two extremes of passion, joy and
grief, burst smilingly
This speech of yours hath moved me,
and shall perchance do good
- Help, help, O, help
- What kind of help?
- Speak, woman
- What means this bloody knife?
- It came even from the heart of...
O, she's dead - Who dead? Speak, woman
Your lady, sir, your lady. And her sister
by her is poisoned, she confesses it
I was contracted to them both.
All three now marry in an instant
I am come to bid my king and master
aye good night. Is he not here?
Great thing of us forgot! Speak, Edmund.
Where's the king? And where's Cordelia?
I pant for life, some good I mean to do
Quickly send to the castle, for my writ
is on the life of Lear and on Cordelia
- Nay, send in time
- Run, run, O, run
To who, my lord? Who has the office?
Send thy token of reprieve
- Well thought on. Take my sword, give
it the captain - Haste thee, for thy life
He hath commission from thy wife and me
to hang Cordelia in the prison...
and to lay the blame upon her
own despair, that she fordid herself
The gods defend her! Bear him hence awhile
Howl, howl, howl!
O, you are men of stones
Had I your tongues and eyes, I'd use them
so that heaven's vault should crack
She's gone forever
I know when one is dead and when one lives.
She's dead as earth
Lend me a looking-glass. If that her breath will
mist or stain the stone, why, then she lives
- Is this the promised end?
- Or image of that horror?
Fall and cease
This feather stirs, she lives
If it be so, it is a chance which does
redeem all sorrows that ever I have felt
- O my good master
- Prithee, away
- 'Tis noble Kent, your friend - A
plague upon you, murderers, traitors all
I might have saved her.
Now she's gone forever
Cordelia, Cordelia! Stay a little
Ha? What is't thou sayest?
Her voice was ever soft, gentle and low
I killed the slave that was a-hanging thee
- 'Tis true, my lords, he did
- Did I not, fellow?
I have seen the day, with my good biting
falchion I would have made him skip
Who are you? Mine eyes are not of
the best, I'll tell you straight
If fortune brag of two she loved and hated,
one of them we behold
This is a dull sight.
Are you not Kent?
The same, your servant Kent.
Where is your servant Caius?
He's a good fellow, I can tell you that.
He'll strike, and quickly too
- He's dead and rotten
- No, my good lord, I am the very man...
I'll see that straight
that from your first of difference
and decay have followed your sad steps
- You are welcome hither
- Nor no man else
All's cheerless, dark and deadly
Your eldest daughters have fordone
themselves, and desperately are dead
- Ay, so I think
- He knows not what he says
- And vain is it that we present us to him
- Very bootless
- Edmund is dead, my lord.
- That is but a trifle here
You lords and noble friends,
know our intent
What comfort to this great decay may come
shall be applied
For us, we will resign, during the life of
this old majesty, to him our absolute power
O, see, see
And my poor fool is hanged.
No, no, no life?
Why should a dog, a horse, a rat have life,
and thou no breath at all?
Thou'lt come no more,
never, never, never, never, never
Pray you undo this button
Thank you, sir
Do you see this?
Look on her, look, her lips
Look there, look there
He faints. My lord, my lord!
- Break, heart, I prithee, break
- Look up, my lord
Vex not his ghost. O, let him pass
He hates him that would upon the rack
of this tough world stretch him out longer
He is gone, indeed
The wonder is he hath endured so long.
He but usurped his life
Friends of my soul, you twain rule in
this realm, and the gored state sustain
I have a journey, sir, shortly to go.
My master calls me, I must not say no
The weight of this sad time we must obey,
speak what we feel, not what we ought to say
The oldest hath borne most. We that are young
shall never see so much nor live so long