King Lear, William Shakespeare [good book recommendations TXT] 📗

becomes the house:
“Dear daughter, I confess that I am old; Kneeling.
Age is unnecessary: on my knees I beg
That you’ll vouchsafe me raiment, bed, and food.” Regan

Good sir, no more; these are unsightly tricks:
Return you to my sister.

King Lear

Rising. Never, Regan:
She hath abated me of half my train;
Look’d black upon me; struck me with her tongue,
Most serpent-like, upon the very heart:
All the stored vengeances of heaven fall
On her ingrateful top! Strike her young bones,
You taking airs, with lameness!

Cornwall Fie, sir, fie! King Lear

You nimble lightnings, dart your blinding flames
Into her scornful eyes! Infect her beauty,
You fen-suck’d fogs, drawn by the powerful sun,
To fall and blast her pride!

Regan

O the blest gods! so will you wish on me,
When the rash mood is on.

King Lear

No, Regan, thou shalt never have my curse:
Thy tender-hefted nature shall not give
Thee o’er to harshness: her eyes are fierce; but thine
Do comfort and not burn. ’Tis not in thee
To grudge my pleasures, to cut off my train,
To bandy hasty words, to scant my sizes,
And in conclusion to oppose the bolt
Against my coming in: thou better know’st
The offices of nature, bond of childhood,
Effects of courtesy, dues of gratitude;
Thy half o’ the kingdom hast thou not forgot,
Wherein I thee endow’d.

Regan Good sir, to the purpose. King Lear Who put my man i’ the stocks? Tucket within. Cornwall What trumpet’s that? Regan

I know’t, my sister’s: this approves her letter,
That she would soon be here.

Enter Oswald. Is your lady come? King Lear

This is a slave, whose easy-borrow’d pride
Dwells in the fickle grace of her he follows.
Out, varlet, from my sight!

Cornwall What means your grace? King Lear

Who stock’d my servant? Regan, I have good hope
Thou didst not know on’t. Who comes here? O heavens,

Enter Goneril.

If you do love old men, if your sweet sway
Allow obedience, if yourselves are old,
Make it your cause; send down, and take my part!
To Goneril. Art not ashamed to look upon this beard?
O Regan, wilt thou take her by the hand?

Goneril

Why not by the hand, sir? How have I offended?
All’s not offence that indiscretion finds
And dotage terms so.

King Lear

O sides, you are too tough;
Will you yet hold? How came my man i’ the stocks?

Cornwall

I set him there, sir: but his own disorders
Deserved much less advancement.

King Lear You! did you? Regan

I pray you, father, being weak, seem so.
If, till the expiration of your month,
You will return and sojourn with my sister,
Dismissing half your train, come then to me:
I am now from home, and out of that provision
Which shall be needful for your entertainment.

King Lear

Return to her, and fifty men dismiss’d?
No, rather I abjure all roofs, and choose
To wage against the enmity o’ the air;
To be a comrade with the wolf and owl⁠—
Necessity’s sharp pinch! Return with her?
Why, the hot-blooded France, that dowerless took
Our youngest born, I could as well be brought
To knee his throne, and, squire-like; pension beg
To keep base life afoot. Return with her?
Persuade me rather to be slave and sumpter
To this detested groom. Pointing at Oswald.

Goneril At your choice, sir. King Lear

I prithee, daughter, do not make me mad:
I will not trouble thee, my child; farewell:
We’ll no more meet, no more see one another:
But yet thou art my flesh, my blood, my daughter;
Or rather a disease that’s in my flesh,
Which I must needs call mine: thou art a boil,
A plague-sore, an embossed carbuncle,
In my corrupted blood. But I’ll not chide thee;
Let shame come when it will, I do not call it:
I do not bid the thunder-bearer shoot,
Nor tell tales of thee to high-judging Jove:
Mend when thou canst; be better at thy leisure:
I can be patient; I can stay with Regan,
I and my hundred knights.

Regan

Not altogether so:
I look’d not for you yet, nor am provided
For your fit welcome. Give ear, sir, to my sister;
For those that mingle reason with your passion
Must be content to think you old, and so⁠—
But she knows what she does.

King Lear Is this well spoken? Regan

I dare avouch it, sir: what, fifty followers?
Is it not well? What should you need of more?
Yea, or so many, sith that both charge and danger
Speak ’gainst so great a number? How, in one house,
Should many people, under two commands,
Hold amity? ’Tis hard; almost impossible.

Goneril

Why might not you, my lord, receive attendance
From those that she calls servants or from mine?

Regan

Why not, my lord? If then they chanced to slack you,
We could control them. If you will come to me⁠—
For now I spy a danger⁠—I entreat you
To bring but five and twenty: to no more
Will I give place or notice.

King Lear I gave you all⁠— Regan And in good time you gave it. King Lear

Made you my guardians, my depositaries;
But kept a reservation to be follow’d
With such a number. What, must I come to you
With five and twenty, Regan? said you so?

Regan And speak’t again, my lord; no more with me. King Lear

Those wicked creatures yet do look well-favour’d,
When others are more wicked: not being the worst
Stands in some rank of praise.
To Goneril. I’ll go with thee:
Thy fifty yet doth double five and twenty,
And thou art twice her love.

Goneril

Hear me, my lord;
What need you five and twenty, ten, or five,
To follow in a house where twice so many
Have a command to tend you?

Regan What need one? King Lear

O, reason not the need: our basest beggars
Are in the poorest thing superfluous:
Allow not nature more than nature needs,
Man’s life’s as cheap as beast’s: thou art a lady;
If only to go warm were gorgeous,
Why, nature needs not what thou gorgeous wear’st,
Which scarcely keeps thee warm. But, for true need⁠—
You heavens, give me that patience, patience I need!
You see me here, you gods, a poor old man,
As full of grief as age; wretched in both!
If it be you that stir these daughters’ hearts
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