You see me here, you gods, a poor old man,
As full of grief as age, wretched in both:
465
If it be you that stirs these daughters’ hearts
[271]
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,
470
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. [FStorm and tempest.F]
475
I have full cause of weeping, but this heart
[281]
Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws
Or e’er I’ll weep. O fool, I shall go mad.
ExeuntQLear, Gloucester, Kent, FoolQ [and Knight].
CORNWALL Let us withdraw; ’twill be a storm.
REGAN This house is little; the old man and’s people
480
Cannot be well bestowed.
GONERIL ’Tis his own blame; hath put himself from rest
And must needs taste his folly.
REGAN For his particular, I’ll receive him gladly,
But not one follower.
GONERIL So am I purposed.
485
Where is my lord of Gloucester?
[291]
Enter GLOUCESTER.
CORNWALL
Followed the old man forth – he is returned.
GLOUCESTER The King is in high rage.
FCORNWALL Whither is he going?
GLOUCESTER
He calls to horse,F but will I know not whither.
490
CORNWALL ’Tis best to give him way; he leads himself.
GONERIL [to Gloucester]
My lord, entreat him by no means to stay.
GLOUCESTER
Alack, the night comes on, and the high winds
Do sorely ruffle; for many miles about
There’s scarce a bush.
REGAN O sir, to wilful men
495
The injuries that they themselves procure
[301]
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.
500
CORNWALL
Shut up your doors, my lord; ’tis a wild night.
My Regan counsels well; come out o’the storm.
Exeunt.
3.1 FStorm still.FEnter KENT[, disguised,] and a Knight, severally.
KENT Who’s there, besides foul weather?
KNIGHT One minded like the weather, most unquietly.
KENT I know you. Where’s the King?
KNIGHT Contending with the fretful elements;
Bids the wind blow the earth into the sea,
5
Or swell the curled waters ‘bove the main,
That things might change, or cease; Qtears his white hair,
Which the impetuous blasts with eyeless rage
Catch in their fury and make nothing of,
Strives in his little world of man to outscorn
10
The to and fro conflicting wind and rain;
This night wherein the cub-drawn bear would couch,
The lion and the belly-pinched wolf
Keep their fur dry, unbonneted he runs,
And bids what will take all.Q
KENT But who is with him?
15
KNIGHT None but the fool, who labours to outjest
His heart-struck injuries.
KENT 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
20
With mutual cunning, ’twixt Albany and Cornwall,
FWho 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 – what hath been seen,
25
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. –F
QNow to you:
30
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.
35
I am a gentleman of blood and breeding,
And from some knowledge and assurance
Offer this office to you.Q
KNIGHT I will talk further with you.
KENT No, do not.
For confirmation that I FamF much more
40
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 your fellow is
That yet you do not know. Fie on this storm;
45
I will go seek the King.
KNIGHT Give me your hand.
Have you no more to say?
KENT Few words, but to effect
More than all yet: that when we have found the King,
FIn which your painF that way, I’ll this,
He that first lights on him holla the other. Exeunt.
50
3.2 FStorm still.FEnter LEAR and Fool.
LEAR 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,
5
Singe my white head! And thou, all-shaking thunder,
Strike flat the thick rotundity o’the world,
Crack nature’s moulds, all germens spill at once
That make ingrateful man!
FOOL O, nuncle, court holy-water in a dry house is
10
better than this rain-water out o’door. Good nuncle,
in, Q andQ ask thy daughters blessing. Here’s a night
pities neither wise men nor fools.
LEAR Rumble thy bellyful! Spit fire, spout rain!
Nor rain, wind, thunder, fire are my daughters;
15
I tax not you, you elements, with unkindness.
I never gave you kingdom, called you children;
You owe me no subscription. Q WhyQ then, let fall
Your horrible pleasure. Here I stand your slave,
A poor, infirm, weak and despised old man.
20
But yet I call you servile ministers
That will with two pernicious daughters join
Your high-engendered battles ‘gainst a head
So old and white as this. O Fho!F ’tis foul.
FOOL He that has a house to put’s head in has a good headpiece:
25
The codpiece that will house
Before the head has any,
The head and he shall louse:
So beggars marry many.
30
The man that makes his toe
What he his heart should make,
Shall of a corn cry woe
And turn his sleep to wake.
For there was never yet fair woman but she made mouths in a glass.
35
Enter KENT[, disguised].
LEAR No, I will be the pattern of all patience,
I will say nothing.
KENT Who’s there?
FOOL Marry, here’s grace and a codpiece – that’s a wise man and a fool.
40
KENT [to Lear]
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
45
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.
LEAR Let the great gods
That keep this dreadful pudder o’er our heads
50
Find out their enemies now. Tremble, thou wretch,
That hast within thee undivulged crimes,
Unwhipped of justice. Hide thee, thou bloody hand,
Thou perjured, and thou simular of virtue
That art incestuous. Caitiff, to pieces shake,
55
That under covert and convenient seeming
Has practised on man’s life. Close pent-up guilts
Rive your concealing continents and cry
These dreadful summoners grace. I am a man
More sinned against than sinning.
KENT Alack, bareheaded?
60
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,
65
Denied me to come in – return and force
Their scanted courtesy.
LEAR My wits begin to turn.
[to the Fool] Come on, my boy. How dost my boy? Art cold?
I am cold myself.
[to Kent] Where is this straw, my fellow?
The art of our necessities is strange,
70
And can make vile things precious. Come; your hovel.
[to the Fool] Poor fool and knave, I have one part in my heart
That’s sorry yet for thee.
FOOL He that has FandF a little tiny wit,
With heigh-ho, the wind and the rain,
Must make content with his fortunes fit,
75
Though the rain it raineth every day.
LEAR True, Q my goodQ boy.
[to Kent] Come, bring us to this hovel.
[Exeunt Lear and Kent.]
FFOOL This is a brave night to cool a courtesan. I’ll
speak a prophecy ere I go:
When priests are more in word than matter,
80
When brewers mar their malt with water,
When nobles are their tailors’ tutors,
No heretics burned but wenches’ suitors;
When every case in law is right
No squire in debt, nor no poor knight;
85
When slanders do not live in tongues,
Nor cut-purses come not to throngs,
When usurers tell their gold i’the field,
And bawds and whores do churches build,
Then shall the realm of Albion
90
Come to great confusion:
Then comes the time, who lives to see’t,
That going shall be used with feet.
This prophecy Merlin shall make, for I live before his time. Exit. F
95
3.3 Enter GLOUCESTER and EDMUND, Qwith lights Q.
GLOUCESTER Alack, alack, Edmund, I like not this
unnatural dealing. When I desired their leave that I
might pity him, 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
5
any way sustain him.
EDMUND Most savage and unnatural.
GLOUCESTER Go to, say you nothing. There is division
between the dukes, and a worse matter than that: I
have received a letter this night – ’tis dangerous to be
10
spoken – I have locked the letter in my closet. These
injuries the King now bears will be revenged home.
There is part of a 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
15
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;
The Arden Shakespeare Complete Works Page 282
