KING LEAR. William Shakespeare
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[to Goneril] Detested kite, thou liest!:
My train are men of choice and rarest parts,
That all particulars of duty know;
And in the most exact regard support
The worships of their name.—O most small fault,
How ugly didst thou in Cordelia show!
Which, like an engine, wrench’d my frame of nature
From the fix’d place; drew from my heart all love,
And added to the gall. O Lear, Lear, Lear!
Beat at this gate that let thy folly in [Striking his head.]
And thy dear judgment out!—Go, go, my people.
Alb.
My lord, I am guiltless, as I am ignorant
Of what hath mov’d you.
Lear.
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 disnatur’d torment to her!
Let it stamp wrinkles in her brow of youth;
With cadent tears fret channels in her cheeks;
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!
[Exit.]
Alb.
Now, gods that we adore, whereof comes this?
Gon.
Never afflict yourself to know more of it;
But let his disposition have that scope
That dotage gives it.
[Re-enter Lear.]
Lear.
What, fifty of my followers at a clap!
Within a fortnight!
Alb.
What’s the matter, sir?
Lear.
I’ll tell thee.—Life and death!—[To Goneril] I am asham’d
That thou hast power to shake my manhood thus;
That these hot tears, which break from me perforce,
Should make thee worth them.—Blasts and fogs upon thee!
Th’ untented woundings of a father’s curse
Pierce every sense about thee!—Old fond eyes,
Beweep this cause again, I’ll pluck you out,
And cast you, with the waters that you lose,
To temper clay. Ha!
Let it be so: 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 for ever.
[Exeunt Lear, Kent, and Attendants.]
Gon.
Do you mark that?
Alb.
I cannot be so partial, Goneril,
To the great love I bear you,—
Gon.
Pray you, content.—What, Oswald, ho!
[To the Fool] You, sir, more knave than fool, after your master.
Fool.
Nuncle Lear, nuncle Lear, tarry,—take the fool with thee.—
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.
[Exit.]
Gon.
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!—
Alb.
Well, you may fear too far.
Gon.
Safer than trust too far:
Let me still take away the harms I fear,
Not fear still to be taken: I know his heart.
What he hath utter’d I have writ my sister:
If she sustain him and his hundred knights,
When I have show’d th’ unfitness,—
[Re-enter Oswald.]
How now, Oswald!
What, have you writ that letter to my sister?
Osw.
Ay, madam.
Gon.
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.
[Exit Oswald.]
No, no, my lord!
This milky gentleness and course of yours,
Though I condemn it not, yet, under pardon,
You are much more attask’d for want of wisdom
Than prais’d for harmful mildness.
Alb.
How far your eyes may pierce I cannot tell:
Striving to better, oft we mar what’s well.
Gon.
Nay then,—
Alb.
Well, well; the event.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE V. Court before the Duke of Albany’s Palace.
[Enter Lear, Kent, and Fool.]
Lear. Go you before to Gloster with these letters: acquaint my daughter no further with anything you know than comes from her demand out of the letter. If your diligence be not speedy, I shall be there afore you.
Kent.
I will not sleep, my lord, till I have delivered your letter.
[Exit.]
Fool.
If a man’s brains were in’s heels, were’t not in danger of kibes?
Lear.