The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated)

by William Shakespeare

  might have some small thing that is more than they need:

  if you don't think human nature needs more than the animals

  then a man's life is as cheap as an animal's. You are a lady;

  if being gorgeous just meant being warm,

  then nature would not need those gorgeous things you're wearing,

  which hardly keep you warm. But, for real need–

  heavens, give me patience, patience is what I need!–

  You gods see me here, the poor old man,

  as full of grief as he is of age, and made wretched by both!

  If it's you that has turned these daughters' hearts

  against their father, don't make me such a fool

  as to take it meekly; give me noble anger,

  and don't let women's weapons, teardrops,

  stain my manly cheeks! No, you unnatural hags,

  I will have such revenge on both of you

  that all the world shall–I will do such things,

  what they are I don't know yet, but they will be

  the worse things on earth. You think I'll cry;

  I will not:

  I have every reason to,

  but this heart

  will shatter into a hundred thousand fragments

  before I'll cry. O fool! I shall go mad.

  CORNWALL

  Let us withdraw; 'twill be a storm.

  Let's go inside, there's a storm coming.

  REGAN

  This house is little: the old man and his people

  Cannot be well bestow'd.

  This house is small: the old man and his servants

  can't be easily accommodated.

  GONERIL

  'Tis his own blame; hath put himself from rest,

  And must needs taste his folly.

  That's his own fault; he's taken himself away from shelter,

  and he must face the consequences.

  REGAN

  For his particular, I'll receive him gladly,

  But not one follower.

  As an individual, I will gladly welcome him,

  but not one follower.

  GONERIL

  So am I purposed.

  Where is my lord of Gloucester?

  The same for me.

  Where is my lord of Gloucester?

  CORNWALL

  Follow'd the old man forth: he is return'd.

  Re-enter GLOUCESTER

  He followed the old man out: here he is back.

  GLOUCESTER

  The king is in high rage.

  The King is very angry.

  CORNWALL

  Whither is he going?

  Where's he going?

  GLOUCESTER

  He calls to horse; but will I know not whither.

  He's called for his horses, but I don't know where he means to go.

  CORNWALL

  'Tis best to give him way; he leads himself.

  Let him go where he wants, he always wants his own way.

  GONERIL

  My lord, entreat him by no means to stay.

  My lord, on no account are you to beg him to stay.

  GLOUCESTER

  Alack, the night comes on, and the bleak winds

  Do sorely ruffle; for many miles a bout

  There's scarce a bush.

  Alas, night is falling, and the harsh winds

  are blowing strong; there is no shelter

  for many miles around.

  REGAN

  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.

  Oh, sir, obstinate men

  have to learn from the injuries they inflict

  on themselves. Close your doors:

  his men are desperate;

  it would be wise to be cautious about

  what they might incite him to do,

  as he is so used to them leading him astray.

  CORNWALL

  Shut up your doors, my lord; 'tis a wild night:

  My Regan counsels well; come out o' the storm.

  Exeunt

  Close your doors, my lord; it's a wild night:

  my Regan gives good advice; come out of the storm.

  Storm still. Enter KENT and a Gentleman, meeting

  KENT

  Who's there, besides foul weather?

  Who's there, besides the foul weather?

  Gentleman

  One minded like the weather, most unquietly.

  Someone who is feeling like the weather, very unsettled.

  KENT

  I know you. Where's the king?

  I know you. Where's the King?

  Gentleman

  Contending with the fretful element:

  Bids the winds blow the earth into the sea,

  Or swell the curled water 'bove the main,

  That things might change or cease; tears 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 out-storm

  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.

  Out battling with the weather:

  he calls on the winds to blow the earth into the sea,

  or blast the waves over the land,

  so that things could change or end; he tears at his white hair,

  which the harsh gusts, with invisible rage,

  catch in their fury and show no respect for;

  he is trying in his little world of a man

  to out blow the swirling winds and rain.

  This night, when a ravenous bear would stay home,

  a lion and a starving wolf

  would keep their fur dry, he runs about bareheaded

  and shouts that the winner will take all.

  KENT

  But who is with him?

  But who is with him?

  Gentleman

  None but the fool; who labours to out-jest

  His heart-struck injuries.

  Only the fool, who is trying to drive out

  his heartfelt injuries with jokes.

  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 be cover'd

  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; what hath been seen,

  Either in snuffs and packings of the dukes,

  Or the hard rein which both of them have borne

  Against the old kind king; or something deeper,

  Whereof perchance these are but furnishings;

  But, true it is, from France there comes a power

  Into this scatter'd 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.

  I am a gentleman of blood and breeding;

  And, from some knowledge and assurance, offer

  This office to you.

  Sir, I know you;

&nbs
p; and on the strength of that I dare

  to trust you with something important. Although at the moment

  it is covered up by their mutual cunning, there is

  a split between Albany and Cornwall;

  they have–as who hasn't, when they

  get so high–servants, who seem innocent,

  who are spies for France who give him

  information about our country. What has been seen

  either in the arguments and plots of the Dukes

  or the hard line which both of them have taken

  against the kind old King; or maybe something deeper,

  of which these things are just the pretexts–

  whatever it is it is certain that an army from France

  is coming into this divided kingdom; already,

  knowing of our negligence, they have gained a secret foothold

  in some of our best ports, and are about

  to come into the open. Now, as this relates to you:

  if you trust me enough

  to hurry to Dover, you will find

  some who will thank you for making a true report

  of how the King has reason to complain

  of unnatural and maddening sorrows.

  I am a gentleman of good blood and breeding,

  and I ask you to do this knowing that I can promise

  that what I say is true.

  Gentleman

  I will talk further with you.

  I want to talk more with you.

  KENT

  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 your fellow is

  That yet you do not know. Fie on this storm!

  I will go seek the king.

  No, do not.

  To show you that I am much more

  than I appear, open this purse, and take out

  the contents. If you see Cordelia–

  as you certainly will–show her this ring;

  she will tell you who your comrade is

  that you don't know yet. Damn this storm!

  I will go and find the King.

  Gentleman

  Give me your hand: have you no more to say?

  Give me your hand: have you nothing else to say?

  KENT

  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.

  Exeunt severally

  Just a few words, but more important than all the others;

  that when we have found the King–you search in that

  direction I'll go this–the first one to find him

  should call the other.

  Enter KING LEAR and Fool

  KING LEAR

  Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow!

  You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout

  Till you have drench'd our steeples, drown'd the cocks!

  You sulphurous and thought-executing fires,

  Vaunt-couriers to oak-cleaving thunderbolts,

  Singe my white head! And thou, all-shaking thunder,

  Smite flat the thick rotundity o' the world!

  Crack nature's moulds, an germens spill at once,

  That make ingrateful man!

  Blow, winds, and burst your cheeks! Rage! Blow!

  You floods and hurricanes, pour

  until you have soaked our steeples, drowned the weathercocks!

  You sulphurous fires, coming at heaven's orders,

  forerunners of oak splitting thunder,

  Burn my white head! And you, all shaking thunder,

  smash the thick round world flat!

  Crack the moulds and destroy all the seeds

  that nature uses to make ungrateful man.

  Fool

  O nuncle, court holy-water in a dry

  house is better than this rain-water out o' door.

  Good nuncle, in, and ask thy daughters' blessing:

  here's a night pities neither wise man nor fool.

  Oh nuncle, having to be flattering in a dry

  house is better than getting soaked out here.

  Good nuncle, let's go in and ask for your daughters' blessing:

  this night won't spare the wise man or the fool.

  KING LEAR

  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, call'd 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'd

  Your high engender'd battles 'gainst a head

  So old and white as this. O! O! 'tis foul!

  Rumble to your heart's content! Spit, fire! Spout, rain!

  Rain, wind, thunder, nor fire, are not my daughters:

  I don't charge you, elements, with unkindness;

  I never gave you a kingdom, called you my children,

  you owe me nothing: let your horrible

  course run free: here I stand, your slave,

  a poor, infirm, weak and despised old man:

  I call you serving agents,

  joining with two wicked daughters

  in your heavenly attacks on a head

  as old and white as this. Oh ho! It's terrible.

  Fool

  He that has a house to put's 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.

  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.

  The one with a roof over his head

  has a good hat.

  Someone who sleeps with a woman

  before he has a roof

  will end up married, sharing her lice;

  so beggars marry many.

  The man who thinks his toe

  is as important as his heart

  will get sorrow from a corn

  and that will keep him awake.

  I never saw a beautiful woman yet

  who didn't make faces in the mirror.

  KING LEAR

  No, I will be the pattern of all patience;

  I will say nothing.

  Enter KENT

  No, I will be a perfect example of patience;

  I will say nothing.

  KENT

  Who's there?

  Who's there?

  Fool

  Marry, here's grace and a cod-piece; that's a wise

  man and a fool.

  Here's a king and a codpiece; I mean a wise

  man and a fool.

  KENT

  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

  The affliction nor the fear.

  Alas, sir, are you here? Even things that love the night

  don't like nights like these; the angry skies

  terrify the beasts of the dar
k,

  and make them stay in their caves: since I became a man

  I can never remember such flashing lightning,

  such horrid bursts of thunder, such groans

  of roaring wind and rain: a man cannot bear

  the pain or the fear.

  KING LEAR

  Let the great gods,

  That keep this dreadful pother o'er our heads,

  Find out their enemies now. Tremble, thou wretch,

  That hast within thee undivulged crimes,

  Unwhipp'd of justice: hide thee, thou bloody hand;

  Thou perjured, and thou simular man of virtue

  That art incestuous: caitiff, to pieces shake,

  That under covert and convenient seeming

  Hast practised on man's life: close pent-up guilts,

  Rive your concealing continents, and cry

  These dreadful summoners grace. I am a man

  More sinn'd against than sinning.

  Let the great gods,

  that are causing this terrible row over our heads,

  find out who their enemies are now. Anyone who has

  secret crimes within them which have gone unpunished

  should tremble now: hide your bloody hands

  you perjurer, and you, the same type who is

  incestuous; you wretch, shake yourself to pieces,

  who with secret and silky hypocrisy

  has plotted against a man's life; may your secret guilt

  burst through your disguise and make you

  beg these dreadful judges for mercy. I am a man

  who is more sinned against than sinning.

  KENT

  Alack, bare-headed!

  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;