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

much more attask’d for want of wisdom
Than praised for harmful mildness. Albany

How far your eyes may pierce I can not tell:
Striving to better, oft we mar what’s well.

Goneril Nay, then⁠— Albany Well, well; the event. Exeunt. 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. 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