« AnteriorContinuar »
Thou might'st deserve, or they impose, this usage,
Coming from us.
My lord, when at their home
I did commend your highness' letters to them,
Ere I was risen from the place that show'd
My duty kneeling, came there a reeking post,
Stew'd in his haste, half breathless, panting forth
From Goneril his mistress, salutations ;
Deliver'd letters, spite of intermission,
Which presently they read : on whose contents
They summond up their meiny, straight took horse ;
Commanded me to follow, and attend
The leisure of their answer; gave me cold looks:
And meeting here the other messenger,
Whose welcome, I perceiv’d, had poison'd mine,
(Being the very fellow that of late
Display'd so saucily against your highness)
Having more man than wit about me, drew;
He rais'd the house with loud and coward cries :
Your son and daughter found this trespass worth
The shame which here it suffers.
Fool. Winter's not gone yet, if the wild geese fly that way.
Fathers, that wear rags,
Do make their children blind;
But fathers, that bear bags,
Shall see their children kind.
But, for all this, thou shalt have as many dolors for thy daughters
as thou canst tell in a year.
Lear. O, how this mother swells up toward my
heart! Down, thou climbing sorrow, thy element’s below! Where is this daughter ?
Kent. With the earl, sir here within.
Follow me not;
Exit. Gent. Made you no more offence than what you speak of?
How chance the king comes with so small a train ?
Fool. An thou hadst been set i’ the stocks for that question, thou hadst wel deserved it.
Kent. Why, fool ?
Fool. We'll set thee to school to an ani, to teach thee there's no laboring in the winter. All that follow their noses are led by their eyes, but blind men. Let go thy hold, when a great wheel runs down a hill, lest it break thy neck with following it; but the great one that goes up the hill, let him draw thee after. When a wise man gives thee better counsel, give me mine again : I would have Done but knaves follow it, since a fool gives it.
Tnat, sir, which serves and seeks for gain,
And follows but for sorm,
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 fly :
The knave turns fool, that runs away;
The fool no knave, perdy.
Kent. Where learn d you this, fool ?
Fool. Not i' the stocks, fool.
Re-enter LEAR, with GLOSTER.
Lear. Deny to speak with me? They are sick ? they are weary !
They have travel'd hard to-night? Mere fetchess
The images of revolt and flying off!
Fetch me a better answer.
My dear lord,
You know the fiery quality of the duke
How unremovable and fix'd he is
In his own course.
Lear. Vengeance! plague! death ! confusion !
Fiery? what quality ? why, Gloster, Gloster,
I'd speak with the duke of Cornwall, and his wife.
Glo. Well, my good lord, I have inform’d them so.
Lear. Inform’d them! Dost thou understand me, man ?
Glo. Ay, my good lord.
Lear. The king would speak with Cornwall; the dear father
Would with his daughter speak, commands her şervice :
Are they inform’d of this ? - My breath and blood :-
Fiery ? the fiery duke ?- Tell the hot duke, that-
No, but not yet :-
:-may be, he is not well :
Infirmity doth still neglect all office,
Whereto our health is bound; we are not ourselves,
When nature, being oppress’d, commands the mind
To suffer with the body : I'll forbear;
And am falien out with my more headier will,
To take the indispos’d and sickly fit
For the sound man.-Death on my state! wherefore
[Looking on KENT
Should he sit here? This act persuades me,
That this remotion of the duke and her
Is practice only. Give me my servant furth :
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.
Glo. I'd have all well betwixt you.
[Exit Lear. O me, my heart, my rising heart !—but, down.
Enter CopywALL, REGAN, GLOSTER, and Servants. Good morrow to you both.
Hail to your grace!
[KENT is set at liberty Reg. I am glad to see your highness. Lear. Regan, I think you are; I know what reason I have to think sa: if thou should'st not be glad, I would divorce me from thy mother's tomb. Beloved Regan, Thy sister's naught: 0 Regan, she hath tied Sharp-tooth'd unkindress, like a vulture, here, ,
[Points to his heart. I can scarce speak to thee; thou’lt not believe, Of how deprav’d a quality—O Regan !
Reg. I pray you, sir, take patience ; I have hope,
You less know how to value her desert,
Than she to scant her duty.
Lear. Say, how is that?
Reg. I cannot think, my sister in the least
Would fail her obligation: if, sir, perchance,
She have restrain’d the riots of your followers,
'Tis on such ground, and to such wholesome end,
As clears her from all blame.
Lear. My curses on her!
0, sir, you are old,
Nature in you stands on the very verge
Of her confine: you should be ruld, and led
By some discretion, that discerns your state
Better than you yourself: Therefore, I pray you,
That to our sister you do make return:
Say, you have wrong'd her, sir.
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,
[Keeling That you'll vouchsafe me raiment, bed, and food.
Reģ. Good sir, no more; these are unsightly tricks:
Return you to my sister.
She hath abated me of half my train;
Look'd black upon me; struck me with her tongue,
Most serpent-like, upon the very heart :-
All the stor’d vengeances of heaven fall
On her ungrateful top! Strike her young bones.
You taking airs, with lameness !
Fye, fye, fye!
Lear. You nimble lightnings, dart your blinding flames
Into her scornful eyes! Infect her beauty,
You fen-suck’d fogs, drawn by the powerful sun,
To fall and blast her pride!
() the blest gods!
So will you wish on me, when the rash mood's on.
Lear. No, Regan, thou shalt never have my curse;
Thy tender-hefted nature shall not give
Thee o'er to harshness; her eyes are fierce, but thine
Do comfort, and not burn: 'Tis not in thee
To grudge my pleasures, to cut off my train.
To bandy hasty words, to scant my sizes,
And in conclusion, to oppose the bolt
Against my coming in : thou better know'st
The offices of nature, bond of childhood,
Effects of courtesy, dues of gratitude;
Thy half o' the kingdom hast thou not forgot,
Wherein I thee endow'd.
Good sir, to the purpose.
[Trumpets within Lear. Who put my man i’ the stocks ? Corn.
What trumpet's that?
Reg. I know't, my sister's: this approves her letter,
That she would soon be here.—Is your lady come?
Lear. This is a slave, whose easy-borrow'd pride
Dwells in the fickle grace of her he follows:-
Out, varlet, from my sight !
What means your grace?
Lear. Who stock'd my servant ? Regan, I have good hope
Thou didst not know of t.—Who comes here? O, heavens,
If you do love old men, if your sweet sway
Allow obedience, if yourselves are old,
Make it your cause : send down, and take my part !
Art not asham'd to look upon this beard ?-
[T. GONERIL O, Regan, wilt thou take her by the hand ?
Gon. Why not by the hand, sir ? How have I offended ?
All's not offence, that indiscretion finds,
And dotage terms so.
O, sides, you are too tough!
Will you yet hold ?-How came my man i the stocks ?
Corn. I set him there, sir : but his own disorders
Desery'd much less advancement.
You ! did you ?
Reg. I pray you, father, being weak, seem so.
If, till the expiration of your month,
You will return and sojourn with my sister,
Dismissing half your train, come then to me;
I am now from home, and out of that provision-
Which shall be needful for your entertainrerit.
Lear Return to her, and fifty men dismiss'd?
No, rather I abjure all roofs, and choose
To wage against the enmity o' the air;
To be a comrade with the wolf and owl,
Necessity's sharp pinch !—Return with her ?
Why, the hot-blooded France, that dowerless took
Our youngest born, I could as well be brought
To knee his throne, and, squire-like, pension beg
To keep base life afoot :- Return with her ?
Persuade me rather to be slave and sumpter
To this detested groom.
(Looking on the Steward Gon.
At your choice, sir.
Lear. I pr’ythee, daughter, do not make me mad;
I will not trouble thee, my child; farewell:
We'll no more meet, no more see one another :
But yet thou art my flesh, my blood, my daughter;
Or, rather a disease that's in my flesh,
Which I must needs call mine; thou art a boil,
A plague-sore, an embossed carbuncle,
In my corrupted blood. But I'll not chide thee;
Let shame come when it will, I do not call it :
I do not bid the thunder-bearer shoot,
Nor tell tales of thee to high-judging Jove :
Mend, when thou canst; be better, at thy leisure:
I can be patient; I can stay with Regan,
I, and my hundred knights.
Not altogether so, sir;
I look'd not for you yet, nor am provided
For your fit welcome : Give ear, sir, to my sister;
For those that mingle reason with your passion
Must be content to think you old, and so—
But she knows what she does.
Is this well spoken now?
Reg. 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.
Gon. Why might not you, my lord, receive attendanco,
From those that she calls servants, or from mine?
Reg. Why not, my lord ? If then they chanc'd to slack vonz,
We could control them: If you will come to me,
(For now I spy a danger,) I entreat you
To bring but five and twenty ; to no more
Will I give place, or notice.
Lear. I gave you all-
And in good time you gave it.
Lear. Made you my guardians, my depositaries ;
But kept a reservation to be follow'd