KING LEAR

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

(PAGINA 3)

KING LEAR



ACT I





SCENE V Court before the same.



[Enter KING LEAR, KENT, and Fool]

KING LEAR Go you before to Gloucester with these letters.

Acquaint my daughter no further with any thing 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?

KING LEAR Ay, boy.

Fool Then, I prithee, be merry; thy wit shall ne'er go

slip-shod.

KING LEAR Ha, ha, ha!

Fool Shalt see thy other daughter will use thee kindly;

for though she's as like this as a crab's like an

apple, yet I can tell what I can tell.

KING LEAR Why, what canst thou tell, my boy?

Fool She will taste as like this as a crab does to a

crab. Thou canst tell why one's nose stands i'

the middle on's face?

KING LEAR No.

Fool Why, to keep one's eyes of either side's nose; that

what a man cannot smell out, he may spy into.

KING LEAR I did her wrong--

Fool Canst tell how an oyster makes his shell?

KING LEAR No.

Fool Nor I neither; but I can tell why a snail has a house.

KING LEAR Why?

Fool Why, to put his head in; not to give it away to his

daughters, and leave his horns without a case.

KING LEAR I will forget my nature. So kind a father! Be my

horses ready?

Fool Thy asses are gone about 'em. The reason why the

seven stars are no more than seven is a pretty reason.

KING LEAR Because they are not eight?

Fool Yes, indeed: thou wouldst make a good fool.

KING LEAR To take 't again perforce! Monster ingratitude!

Fool If thou wert my fool, nuncle, I'ld have thee beaten

for being old before thy time.

KING LEAR How's that?

Fool Thou shouldst not have been old till thou hadst

been wise.

KING LEAR O, let me not be mad, not mad, sweet heaven

Keep me in temper: I would not be mad!

[Enter Gentleman]

How now! are the horses ready?

Gentleman Ready, my lord.

KING LEAR Come, boy.

Fool She that's a maid now, and laughs at my departure,

Shall not be a maid long, unless things be cut shorter.

[Exeunt]







KING LEAR



ACT II





SCENE I GLOUCESTER's castle.



[Enter EDMUND, and CURAN meets him]

EDMUND Save thee, Curan.

CURAN And you, sir. I have been with your father, and

given him notice that the Duke of Cornwall and Regan

his duchess will be here with him this night.

EDMUND How comes that?

CURAN Nay, I know not. You have heard of the news abroad;

I mean the whispered ones, for they are yet but

ear-kissing arguments?

EDMUND Not I pray you, what are they?

CURAN Have you heard of no likely wars toward, 'twixt the

Dukes of Cornwall and Albany?

EDMUND Not a word.

CURAN You may do, then, in time. Fare you well, sir.

[Exit]

EDMUND The duke be here to-night? The better! best!

This weaves itself perforce into my business.

My father hath set guard to take my brother;

And I have one thing, of a queasy question,

Which I must act: briefness and fortune, work!

Brother, a word; descend: brother, I say!

[Enter EDGAR]

My father watches: O sir, fly this place;

Intelligence is given where you are hid;

You have now the good advantage of the night:

Have you not spoken 'gainst the Duke of Cornwall?

He's coming hither: now, i' the night, i' the haste,

And Regan with him: have you nothing said

Upon his party 'gainst the Duke of Albany?

Advise yourself.

EDGAR I am sure on't, not a word.

EDMUND I hear my father coming: pardon me:

In cunning I must draw my sword upon you

Draw; seem to defend yourself; now quit you well.

Yield: come before my father. Light, ho, here!

Fly, brother. Torches, torches! So, farewell.

[Exit EDGAR]

Some blood drawn on me would beget opinion.

[Wounds his arm]

Of my more fierce endeavour: I have seen drunkards

Do more than this in sport. Father, father!

Stop, stop! No help?

[Enter GLOUCESTER, and Servants with torches]

GLOUCESTER Now, Edmund, where's the villain?

EDMUND Here stood he in the dark, his sharp sword out,

Mumbling of wicked charms, conjuring the moon

To stand auspicious mistress,--

GLOUCESTER But where is he?

EDMUND Look, sir, I bleed.

GLOUCESTER Where is the villain, Edmund?

EDMUND Fled this way, sir. When by no means he could--

GLOUCESTER Pursue him, ho! Go after.

[Exeunt some Servants]

By no means what?

EDMUND Persuade me to the murder of your lordship;

But that I told him, the revenging gods

'Gainst parricides did all their thunders bend;

Spoke, with how manifold and strong a bond

The child was bound to the father; sir, in fine,

Seeing how loathly opposite I stood

To his unnatural purpose, in fell motion,

With his prepared sword, he charges home

My unprovided body, lanced mine arm:

But when he saw my best alarum'd spirits,

Bold in the quarrel's right, roused to the encounter,

Or whether gasted by the noise I made,

Full suddenly he fled.

GLOUCESTER Let him fly far:

Not in this land shall he remain uncaught;

And found--dispatch. The noble duke my master,

My worthy arch and patron, comes to-night:

By his authority I will proclaim it,

That he which finds him shall deserve our thanks,

Bringing the murderous coward to the stake;

He that conceals him, death.

EDMUND When I dissuaded him from his intent,

And found him pight to do it, with curst speech

I threaten'd to discover him: he replied,

'Thou unpossessing bastard! dost thou think,

If I would stand against thee, would the reposal

Of any trust, virtue, or worth in thee

Make thy words faith'd? No: what I should deny,--

As this I would: ay, though thou didst produce

My very character,--I'ld turn it all

To thy suggestion, plot, and damned practise:

And thou must make a dullard of the world,

If they not thought the profits of my death

Were very pregnant and potential spurs

To make thee seek it.'

GLOUCESTER Strong and fasten'd villain

Would he deny his letter? I never got him.

[Tucket within]

Hark, the duke's trumpets! I know not why he comes.

All ports I'll bar; the villain shall not 'scape;

The duke must grant me that: besides, his picture

I will send far and near, that all the kingdom

May have the due note of him; and of my land,

Loyal and natural boy, I'll work the means

To make thee capable.

[Enter CORNWALL, REGAN, and Attendants]

CORNWALL How now, my noble friend! since I came hither,

Which I can call but now, I have heard strange news.

REGAN If it be true, all vengeance comes too short

Which can pursue the offender. How dost, my lord?

GLOUCESTER O, madam, my old heart is crack'd, it's crack'd!

REGAN What, did my father's godson seek your life?

He whom my father named? your Edgar?

GLOUCESTER O, lady, lady, shame would have it hid!

REGAN Was he not companion with the riotous knights

That tend upon my father?

GLOUCESTER I know not, madam: 'tis too bad, too bad.

EDMUND Yes, madam, he was of that consort.

REGAN No marvel, then, though he were ill affected:

'Tis they have put him on the old man's death,

To have the expense and waste of his revenues.

I have this present evening from my sister

Been well inform'd of them; and with such cautions,

That if they come to sojourn at my house,

I'll not be there.

CORNWALL Nor I, assure thee, Regan.

Edmund, I hear that you have shown your father

A child-like office.

EDMUND 'Twas my duty, sir.

GLOUCESTER He did bewray his practise; and received

This hurt you see, striving to apprehend him.

CORNWALL Is he pursued?

GLOUCESTER Ay, my good lord.

CORNWALL If he be taken, he shall never more

Be fear'd of doing harm: make your own purpose,

How in my strength you please. For you, Edmund,

Whose virtue and obedience doth this instant

So much commend itself, you shall be ours:

Natures of such deep trust we shall much need;

You we first seize on.

EDMUND I shall serve you, sir,

Truly, however else.

GLOUCESTER For him I thank your grace.

CORNWALL You know not why we came to visit you,--

REGAN Thus out of season, threading dark-eyed night:

Occasions, noble Gloucester, of some poise,

Wherein we must have use of your advice:

Our father he hath writ, so hath our sister,

Of differences, which I least thought it fit

To answer from our home; the several messengers

From hence attend dispatch. Our good old friend,

Lay comforts to your bosom; and bestow

Your needful counsel to our business,

Which craves the instant use.

GLOUCESTER I serve you, madam:

Your graces are right welcome.

[Exeunt]







KING LEAR



ACT II





SCENE II Before Gloucester's castle.



[Enter KENT and OSWALD, severally]

OSWALD Good dawning to thee, friend: art of this house?

KENT Ay.

OSWALD Where may we set our horses?

KENT I' the mire.

OSWALD Prithee, if thou lovest me, tell me.

KENT I love thee not.

OSWALD Why, then, I care not for thee.

KENT If I had thee in Lipsbury pinfold, I would make thee

care for me.

OSWALD Why dost thou use me thus? I know thee not.

KENT Fellow, I know thee.

OSWALD What dost thou know me for?

KENT 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 knave, a whoreson,

glass-gazing, super-serviceable 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, pandar,

and the son and heir of a mongrel bitch: one whom I

will beat into clamorous whining, if thou deniest

the least syllable of thy addition.

OSWALD Why, what a monstrous fellow art thou, thus to rail

on one that is neither known of thee nor knows thee!

KENT 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? Draw, you

rogue: for, though it be night, yet the moon

shines; I'll make a sop o' the moonshine of you:

draw, you whoreson cullionly barber-monger, draw.

[Drawing his sword]

OSWALD Away! I have nothing to do with thee.

KENT 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.

OSWALD Help, ho! murder! help!

KENT Strike, you slave; stand, rogue, stand; you neat

slave, strike.

[Beating him]

OSWALD Help, ho! murder! murder!

[Enter EDMUND, with his rapier drawn, CORNWALL,

REGAN, GLOUCESTER, and Servants]

EDMUND How now! What's the matter?

KENT With you, goodman boy, an you please: come, I'll

flesh ye; come on, young master.

GLOUCESTER Weapons! arms! What 's the matter here?

CORNWALL Keep peace, upon your lives:

He dies that strikes again. What is the matter?

REGAN The messengers from our sister and the king.

CORNWALL What is your difference? speak.

OSWALD I am scarce in breath, my lord.

KENT No marvel, you have so bestirred your valour. You

cowardly rascal, nature disclaims in thee: a

tailor made thee.

CORNWALL Thou art a strange fellow: a tailor make a man?

KENT Ay, a tailor, sir: a stone-cutter or painter could

not have made him so ill, though he had been but two

hours at the trade.

CORNWALL Speak yet, how grew your quarrel?

OSWALD This ancient ruffian, sir, whose life I have spared

at suit of his gray beard,--

KENT 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?

CORNWALL Peace, sirrah!

You beastly knave, know you no reverence?

KENT Yes, sir; but anger hath a privilege.

CORNWALL Why art thou angry?

KENT 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 a-twain

Which are too intrinse t' unloose; smooth every passion

That in the natures of their lords rebel;

Bring oil to fire, snow to their colder moods;

Renege, affirm, and turn their halcyon beaks

With every gale and vary of their masters,

Knowing nought, 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'ld drive ye cackling home to Camelot.

CORNWALL Why, art thou mad, old fellow?

GLOUCESTER How fell you out? say that.

KENT No contraries hold more antipathy

Than I and such a knave.

CORNWALL Why dost thou call him a knave? What's his offence?

KENT His countenance likes me not.

CORNWALL No more, perchance, does mine, nor his, nor hers.

KENT 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.

CORNWALL This is some fellow,

Who, having been praised for bluntness, doth affect

A saucy roughness, and constrains the garb

Quite from his nature: he cannot flatter, he,

An honest mind and plain, he must speak truth!

An they will take it, so; if not, he's plain.

These kind of knaves I know, which in this plainness

Harbour more craft and more corrupter ends

Than twenty silly ducking observants

That stretch their duties nicely.

KENT Sir, in good sooth, in sincere verity,

Under the allowance of your great aspect,

Whose influence, like the wreath of radiant fire

On flickering Phoebus' front,--

CORNWALL What mean'st by this?

KENT 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.

CORNWALL What was the offence you gave him?

OSWALD I never gave him any:

It pleased the king his master very late

To strike at me, upon his misconstruction;

When he, conjunct and flattering his displeasure,

Tripp'd me behind; being down, insulted, rail'd,

And put upon him such a deal of man,

That worthied him, got praises of the king

For him attempting who was self-subdued;

And, in the fleshment of this dread exploit,

Drew on me here again.

KENT None of these rogues and cowards

But Ajax is their fool.

CORNWALL Fetch forth the stocks!

You stubborn ancient knave, you reverend braggart,

We'll teach you--

KENT 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.

CORNWALL Fetch forth the stocks! As I have life and honour,

There shall he sit till noon.

REGAN Till noon! till night, my lord; and all night too.

KENT Why, madam, if I were your father's dog,

You should not use me so.

REGAN Sir, being his knave, I will.

CORNWALL This is a fellow of the self-same colour

Our sister speaks of. Come, bring away the stocks!

[Stocks brought out]

GLOUCESTER Let me beseech your grace not to do so:

His fault is much, and the good king his master

Will cheque him for 't: your purposed low correction

Is such as basest and contemned'st wretches

For pilferings and most common trespasses

Are punish'd with: the king must take it ill,

That he's so slightly valued in his messenger,

Should have him thus restrain'd.

CORNWALL I'll answer that.

REGAN My sister may receive it much more worse,

To have her gentleman abused, assaulted,

For following her affairs. Put in his legs.

[KENT is put in the stocks]

Come, my good lord, away.

[Exeunt all but GLOUCESTER and KENT]

GLOUCESTER I am sorry for thee, friend; 'tis the duke's pleasure,

Whose disposition, all the world well knows,

Will not be rubb'd nor stopp'd: I'll entreat for thee.

KENT Pray, do not, sir: I have watched and travell'd 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!

GLOUCESTER The duke's to blame in this; 'twill be ill taken.

[Exit]

KENT Good king, that must approve the common saw,

Thou out of heaven's benediction comest

To the warm sun!

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 inform'd

Of my obscured course; and shall find time

From this enormous state, seeking to give

Losses their remedies. All weary and o'erwatch'd,

Take vantage, heavy eyes, not to behold

This shameful lodging.

Fortune, good night: smile once more: turn thy wheel!

[Sleeps]


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