ACT 1
Scene 1
Enter Kent, Gloucester, and Edmund.
I thought the King had more affected the Duke
of Albany than Cornwall.
...of either’s moiety.
Is not this your son, my lord?
...brazed to ’t.
I cannot conceive you.
...smell a fault?
I cannot wish the fault undone, the issue of it
being so proper.
...to your Lordship.
I must love you and sue to know you better.
...my sometime daughter.
Good my liege—
...part between you.
Royal Lear,
Whom I have ever honored as my king,
Loved as my father, as my master followed,
As my great patron thought on in my prayers—
...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? To plainness honor’s bound
When majesty falls to folly. Reserve thy state,
And in thy best consideration check
This hideous rashness. Answer my life my judgment,
Thy youngest daughter does not love thee least,
Nor are those empty-hearted whose low sounds
Reverb no hollowness.
...life, no more.
My life I never held but as a pawn
To wage against thine enemies, nor fear to lose it,
Thy safety being motive.
...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 swear’st thy gods in vain.
...Dear sir, forbear.
Kill thy physician, and thy fee bestow
Upon the foul disease. Revoke thy gift,
Or whilst I can vent clamor from my throat,
I’ll tell thee thou dost evil.
...not be revoked.
Fare thee well, king. Sith thus thou wilt appear,
Freedom lives hence, and banishment is here.
To Cordelia.
The gods to their dear shelter take thee, maid,
That justly think’st and hast most rightly said.
To Goneril and Regan.
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.
He exits.
Scene 4
...Prepare for dinner.
Enter Kent in disguise.
If but as well I other accents borrow
That can my speech diffuse, 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 lov’st,
Shall find thee full of labors.
...what art thou?
A man, sir.
...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 judgment, 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.
...What wouldst thou?
Service.
...wouldst thou serve?
You.
...know me, fellow?
No, sir, but you have that in your countenance
which I would fain call master.
... What’s that?
Authority.
...services canst do?
I can keep honest counsel, ride, run, mar a
curious tale in telling it, and deliver a plain message
bluntly. That which ordinary men are fit for I
am qualified in, and the best of me is diligence.
...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.
...strucken, my lord.
tripping him
Nor tripped neither, you base
football player?
...I’ll love thee.
to Oswald
Come, sir, arise. Away. I’ll teach you
differences. Away, away. If you will measure your
lubber’s length again, tarry. But away. Go to. Have
you wisdom? So.
...of thy service.
He gives Kent a purse.
...Here’s my coxcomb.
He offers Kent his cap.
...to a score.
This is nothing, Fool.
...wast born with.
This is not altogether fool, my lord.
...thankless child.—Away, away!
Lear and the rest of his train exit.
Scene 5
...well, th’ event.
Enter Lear, Kent in disguise, Gentleman, and Fool.
...there afore you.
I will not sleep, my lord, till I have delivered
your letter.
He exits.
ACT 2
Scene 2
...are right welcome.
Enter Kent in disguise and Oswald, the Steward, severally.
...of this house?
Ay.
...set our horses?
I’ th’ mire.
...me, tell me.
I love thee not.
...not for thee.
If I had thee in Lipsbury pinfold, I would make
thee care for me.
...know thee not.
Fellow, I know thee.
...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, superserviceable,
finical rogue; one-trunk-inheriting
slave; one that wouldst be a bawd in way of good
service, and art nothing but the composition of a
knave, beggar, coward, pander, and the son and heir
of a mongrel bitch; one whom I will beat into
clamorous whining if thou deny’st the least syllable
of thy addition.
...nor knows thee!
What a brazen-faced varlet art thou to deny thou
knowest me! Is it two days ago since I tripped up
thy heels and beat thee before the King? He draws his sword.
Draw, you rogue, for though it be night,
yet the moon shines. I’ll make a sop o’ th’ moonshine
of you, you whoreson, cullionly barbermonger.
Draw!
...do with thee.
Draw, you rascal! You come with letters against
the King and take Vanity the puppet’s part against
the royalty of her father. Draw, you rogue, or I’ll so
carbonado your shanks! Draw, you rascal! Come
your ways.
...ho! Murder! Help!
Strike, you slave! Stand, rogue! Stand, you neat
slave! Strike!
He beats Oswald.
...the matter? Part!
With you, goodman boy, if you please. Come, I’ll
flesh you. Come on, young master.
...breath, my lord.
No marvel, you have so bestirred your valor.
You cowardly rascal, nature disclaims in thee; a
tailor made thee.
...make a man?
A tailor, sir. A stonecutter or a painter could not
have made him so ill, though they had been but two
years o’ th’ trade.
...his gray 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 gray beard, you
wagtail?
...you no reverence?
Yes, sir, but anger hath a privilege.
...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 the holy cords atwain
Which are too intrinse t’ unloose; smooth every passion
That in the natures of their lords rebel—
Being oil to fire, snow to the colder moods—
Renege, affirm, and turn their halcyon beaks
With every gale and vary of their masters,
Knowing naught, like dogs, but following.—
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 you cackling home to Camelot.
...out? Say that.
No contraries hold more antipathy
Than I and such a knave.
...is his fault?
His countenance likes me not.
...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.
...their duties nicely.
Sir, in good faith, in sincere verity,
Under th’ allowance of your great aspect,
Whose influence, like the wreath of radiant fire
On flick’ring Phoebus’ front—
...mean’st by this?
To go out of my dialect, which you discommend
so much. I know, sir, I am no flatterer. He that
beguiled you in a plain accent was a plain knave,
which for my part I will not be, though I should
win your displeasure to entreat me to ’t.
...me here again.
None of these rogues and cowards
But Ajax is their fool.
...We’ll teach you.
Sir, I am too old to learn.
Call not your stocks for me. I serve the King,
On whose employment I was sent to you.
You shall do small respect, show too bold malice
Against the grace and person of my master,
Stocking his messenger.
...all night, too.
Why, madam, if I were your father’s dog,
You should not use me so.
...in his legs.
Kent is put in the stocks.
...entreat for thee.
Pray, do not, sir. I have watched and traveled hard.
Some time I shall sleep out; the rest I’ll whistle.
A good man’s fortune may grow out at heels.
Give you good morrow.
...be ill taken.
Good king, that must approve the common saw,
Thou out of heaven’s benediction com’st
To the warm sun.He takes out a paper.
Approach, thou beacon to this under globe,
That by thy comfortable beams I may
Peruse this letter. Nothing almost sees miracles
But misery. I know ’tis from Cordelia,
Who hath most fortunately been informed
Of my obscurèd course, and shall find time
From this enormous state, seeking to give
Losses their remedies. All weary and o’erwatched,
Take vantage, heavy eyes, not to behold
This shameful lodging.
Fortune, good night. Smile once more; turn thy wheel.
Sleeps.
Scene 4
...Of this remove.
waking
Hail to thee, noble master.
...shame thy pastime?
No, my lord.
...set thee here?
It is both he and she,
Your son and daughter.
... No.
Yes.
...No, I say.
I say yea.
...I swear no.
By Juno, I swear ay.
...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 showed
My duty kneeling, came there a reeking post,
Stewed in his haste, half breathless, panting forth
From Goneril his mistress salutations;
Delivered letters, spite of intermission,
Which presently they read; on whose contents
They summoned 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 perceived, had poisoned mine,
Being the very fellow which of late
Displayed so saucily against your Highness,
Having more man than wit about me, drew.
He raised the house with loud and coward cries.
Your son and daughter found this trespass worth
The shame which here it suffers.
...is this daughter?
With the Earl, sir, here within.
...you speak of?
None.
How chance the King comes with so small a number?
...well deserved it.
Why, Fool?
...no knave, perdie.
Where learned you this, Fool?
...to your Grace.
Kent here set at liberty.
...shall go mad!
Lear, Kent, and Fool exit with Gloucester and the Gentleman.
ACT 3
Scene 1
...o’ th’ storm.
Storm still. Enter Kent in disguise, and a Gentleman, severally.
Who’s there, besides foul weather?
...weather, most unquietly.
I know you. Where’s the King?
...will take all.
But who is with him?
...His heart-struck injuries.
Sir, I do know you
And dare upon the warrant of my note
Commend a dear thing to you. There is division,
Although as yet the face of it is covered
With mutual cunning, ’twixt Albany and Cornwall,
Who have—as who have not, that their great stars
Throned and set high?—servants, who seem no less,
Which are to France the spies and speculations
Intelligent of our state. From France there comes
a power
Into this scattered kingdom, who already,
Wise in our negligence, have secret feet
In some of our best ports and are at point
To show their open 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: what hath been seen,
Either in snuffs and packings of the dukes,
Or the hard rein which both of them hath borne
Against the old kind king, or something deeper,
Whereof perchance these are but furnishings.
I am a gentleman of blood and breeding,
And from some knowledge and assurance offer
This office to you.
...further with you.
No, do not.
For confirmation that I am much more
Than my outwall, open this purse and take
What it contains. Kent hands him a purse and a ring.
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!
I will go seek the King.
...more to say?
Few words, but, to effect, more than all yet:
That when we have found the King—in which your pain
That way, I’ll this—he that first lights on him
Holla the other.
They exit separately.
Scene 2
...will say nothing.
Enter Kent in disguise.
Who’s there?
...and a fool.
Alas, sir, are you here? Things that love night
Love not such nights as these. The wrathful skies
Gallow the very wanderers of the dark
And make them keep their caves. 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
Th’ affliction nor the fear.
...against than sinning.
Alack, bareheaded?
Gracious my lord, hard by here is a hovel.
Some friendship will it lend you ’gainst the tempest.
Repose you there while I to this hard house—
More harder than the stones whereof ’tis raised,
Which even but now, demanding after you,
Denied me to come in—return and force
Their scanted courtesy.
...to this hovel.
Lear and Kent exit.
Scene 4
...old doth fall.
Enter Lear, Kent in disguise, and Fool.
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.
...break my heart?
I had rather break mine own. Good my lord, enter.
...more of that.
Good my lord, enter here.
...me, help me!
Give me thy hand. Who’s there?
...name’s Poor Tom.
What art thou that dost grumble there i’ th’
straw? Come forth.
...on thy daughters!
He hath no daughters, sir.
...witch, aroint thee.
How fares your Grace?
... What’s he?
Who’s there? What is ’t you seek?
...cause of thunder?
Good my lord, take his offer; go into th’ house.
...They talk aside.
to Gloucester
Importune him once more to go, my lord.
His wits begin t’ unsettle.
...let’s in all.
This way, my lord.
...with my philosopher.
to Gloucester
Good my lord, soothe him. Let him take the fellow.
...him you on.
to Edgar
Sirrah, come on: go along with us.
...a British man.”
They exit.
Scene 6
...in my love.
Enter Kent in disguise, and Gloucester.
...long from you.
All the power of his wits have given way to his
impatience. The gods reward your kindness!
...food for thee.
to Lear
How do you, sir? Stand you not so amazed.
Will you lie down and rest upon the cushions?
...thy five wits!
to Lear
O pity! Sir, where is the patience now
That you so oft have boasted to retain?
...them be changed.
Now, good my lord, lie here and rest awhile.
...King my master?
Here, sir, but trouble him not; his wits are gone.
...thee quick conduct.
Oppressèd nature sleeps.
This rest might yet have balmed thy broken sinews,
Which, if convenience will not allow,
Stand in hard cure. To the Fool.
Come, help to bear thy master.
Thou must not stay behind.
...Come, come away.
All but Edgar exit, carrying Lear.
ACT 4
Scene 3
...more thou know’st.
Enter Kent in disguise and a Gentleman.
Why the King of France is so suddenly gone
back know you no reason?
...required and necessary.
Who hath he left behind him general?
...Monsieur La Far.
Did your letters pierce the Queen to any demonstration
of grief?
...king o’er her.
O, then it moved her.
...so become it.
Made she no verbal question?
...with grief alone.
It is the stars.
The stars above us govern our conditions,
Else one self mate and make could not beget
Such different issues. You spoke not with her since?
... No.
Was this before the King returned?
... No, since.
Well, sir, the poor distressèd Lear’s i’ th’ town,
Who sometime in his better tune remembers
What we are come about, and by no means
Will yield to see his daughter.
...Why, good sir?
A sovereign shame so elbows him—his own unkindness,
That stripped her from his benediction, turned her
To foreign casualties, gave her dear rights
To his dog-hearted daughters—these things sting
His mind so venomously that burning shame
Detains him from Cordelia.
...Alack, poor gentleman!
Of Albany’s and Cornwall’s powers you heard not?
...They are afoot.
Well, sir, I’ll bring you to our master Lear
And leave you to attend him. Some dear cause
Will in concealment wrap me up awhile.
When I am known aright, you shall not grieve
Lending me this acquaintance. I pray you, go
Along with me.
They exit.
Scene 7
...with a friend.
Enter Cordelia, Kent in disguise, Doctor, and Gentleman.
...measure fail me.
To be acknowledged, madam, is o’erpaid.
All my reports go with the modest truth,
Nor more, nor clipped, but so.
...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.
...thy reverence made.
Kind and dear princess.
...I in France?
In your own kingdom, sir.
...was so slain?
Most certain, sir.
...of his people?
As ’tis said, the bastard son of Gloucester.
...Kent in Germany.
Report is changeable. ’Tis time to look about.
The powers of the kingdom approach apace.
...you well, sir.
My point and period will be throughly wrought,
Or well, or ill, as this day’s battle’s fought.
He exits.
ACT 5
Scene 3
...Here comes Kent.
Enter Kent.
...very manners urges.
I am come
To bid my king and master aye goodnight.
Is he not here?
...this object, Kent?
Alack, why thus?
...then she lives.
Is this the promised end?
...I have felt.
O, my good master—
...tell you straight.
If Fortune brag of two she loved and hated,
One of them we behold.
...you not Kent?
The same,
Your servant Kent. Where is your servant Caius?
...dead and rotten.
No, my good lord, I am the very man—
...see that straight.
That from your first of difference and decay
Have followed your sad steps.
...welcome hither.
Nor no man else. All’s cheerless, dark, and deadly.
Your eldest daughters have fordone themselves,
And desperately are dead.
... my lord!
Break, heart, I prithee, break!
...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.
...is gone indeed.
The wonder is he hath endured so long.
He but usurped his life.
...gored state sustain.
I have a journey, sir, shortly to go;
My master calls me. I must not say no.
...live so long.
They exit with a dead march.