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Act 2, Scene 3
King Lear Translation Act 2, Scene 4
KENT in the stocks. Enter LEAR, FOOL, and GENTLEMAN
LEAR
'Tis strange that they should so depart from home,And not send back my messenger.
LEAR
It's strange that Regan and Cornwall left their home without sending back my messenger.
GENTLEMAN
As I learned,The night before there was no purpose in themOf this remove.
GENTLEMAN
I heard that, as of last night, they had no intention of leaving and going to stay with Gloucester.
KENT
[to LEAR] Hail to thee, noble master!
KENT
[To LEAR] Greetings to you, noble master!
LEAR
Ha! Makest thou this shame thy pastime?
LEAR
What! Are you in this humiliating position as a joke?
KENT
No, my lord.
KENT
No, my lord.
FOOL
Ha, ha! Look, he wears cruel garters. Horses are tied by the heads, dogs and bears by the neck, monkeys by theloins, and men by the legs. When a man’s overlusty at legs, then he wears wooden nether-stocks.
FOOL
Ha, ha! Look, he's wearing wooden stockings. Horses are tied up by their heads, dogs and bears by their necks, monkeys by their waists, and men by their legs. When a man wants to run, then he must wear stockings like these.
LEAR
[to KENT] What’s he that hath so much thy place mistookTo set thee here?
LEAR
[To KENT] What man misunderstood your role as the king's messenger, and locked you up here?
KENT
It is both he and she:Your son and daughter.
KENT
It was a man and a woman: your son-in-law and daughter.
LEAR
No.
LEAR
No.
KENT
Yes.
KENT
Yes.
LEAR
No, I say.
LEAR
No, I say.
KENT
I say “Yea.”
KENT
And I say "yes."
LEAR
No, no, they would not.
LEAR
No, no, they wouldn't.
KENT
Yes, they have.
KENT
Yes, they have.
LEAR
By Jupiter, I swear “No.”
LEAR
By Jupiter, I swear "no."
KENT
By Juno, I swear “Ay.”
KENT
By Juno, I swear "yes."
LEAR
They durst not do ’t. They could not, would not do ’t. 'Tis worse than murder To do upon respect such violent outrage. Resolve me with all modest haste which way Thou mightst deserve or they impose this usage, Coming from us.
LEAR
They wouldn't dare. They couldn't. They wouldn't. It's worse than murder to so violently humiliate a king like this. Tell me as quickly as you can what you did to deserve this punishment—or what made them abuse you like this—knowing that you were my messenger.
KENT
My lord, when at their home I did commend your highness' letters to them. Ere I was risen from the place that showed My duty kneeling, came there a reeking post, Stewed in his haste, half breathless, panting forth From Goneril his mistress salutations, Delivered letters spite of intermission, Which presently they read, on whose contents They summoned up their meiny, straight took horse, Commanded me to follow and attend The leisure of their answer, gave me cold looks. And meeting here the other messenger, Whose welcome I perceived had poisoned mine— Being the very fellow which of late Displayed so saucily against your highness— Having more man than wit about me, drew. He raised the house with loud and coward cries. Your son and daughter found this trespass worth The shame which here it suffers.
KENT
My lord, I arrived at your son-in-law and daughter's home and delivered your Highness's letter. But before I had risen from my respectful kneeling position, a stinking messenger arrived, out of breath and panting out greetings from his mistress Goneril. He didn't care at all about interrupting me, and he presented a letter from his lady, which they read immediately. Once they understood its contents, they summoned their servants and got on their horses to ride off straight away. They commanded me to follow them if I wanted the pleasure of getting their answer, and they glared at me coldly. Once we got here, I met that other messenger again, the rude one whom they welcomed while scorning me—and he was the very same fellow who was so insolent to you recently, your Highness. I had more anger than intelligence in me, so I drew my sword against him. He then woke up the whole house with his loud and cowardly cries. Your son-in-law and daughter decided that my error deserves this punishment of being locked so shamefully in the stocks here.
FOOL
Winter’s not gone yet, if the wild geese fly that way. Fathers that wear rags Do make their children blind. But fathers that bear bags Shall see their children kind. Fortune, that arrant whore, Ne'er turns the key to th' poor. But for all this thou shalt have as many dolors for thydaughters as thou canst tell in a year.
FOOL
If your daughter Regan and Cornwall are acting like that, then your troubles aren't over yet. Fathers who wear rags make their children blind to their needs. But fathers with bags of gold make their children kind. Fortune, that fickle whore, never opens the door to the poor. But despite all this, your daughters will give you as many dollars—or maybe sorrows—as you can count in a whole year.
LEAR
O, how this mother swells up toward my heart! Hysterica passio , down, thou climbing sorrow.Thy element’s below.—Where is this daughter?
LEAR
[To himself] Oh, how this hysteria swells up and squeezes my heart! Panic, stay back, you choking sorrow. You belong in my stomach, not in my head.
[To KENT] Where is this daughter of mine?
KENT
With the earl, sir, here within.
KENT
With the earl, sir, inside the castle.
LEAR
Follow me not. Stay here.
LEAR
Don't follow me. Stay here.
Exit LEAR
GENTLEMAN
Made you no more offense but what you speak of?
GENTLEMAN
Did you really not commit any worse crime than what you told the king?
KENT
None.How chance the king comes with so small a train?
KENT
I committed no crime at all. Why did the king come with such a small entourage of knights?
FOOL
An thou hadst been set i' th' stocks for that question, thou’dst well deserved it.
FOOL
If they had put you in the stocks for asking that question, you would've deserved it.
KENT
Why, Fool?
KENT
Why, Fool?
FOOL
We’ll set thee to school to an ant to teach thee there’s no laboring i' th' winter. All that follow theirnoses are led by their eyes but blind men, and there’s not a nose among twenty but can smell him that’s stinking. Let go thy hold when a great wheel runs down ahill, lest it break thy neck with following it. But thegreat one that goes up the hill, let him draw thee after. When a wise man gives thee better counsel, give me mine again. I would have none but knaves follow it since a fool gives it. That sir which serves and seeks for gain, And follows but for form, Will pack when it begins to rain And leave thee in the storm. But I will tarry. The fool will stay. And let the wise man fly. The knave turns fool that runs away; The fool, no knave, perdie.
FOOL
You should learn from the ant that there's no use in working in the winter—no one will work for a master who can't pay them. Everyone but the blind can see that the king has fallen on bad luck, and even the blind can smell his decaying fortunes. If a huge wheel goes rolling down a hill, don't try to cling to it, or else you'll break your neck. But if you see a wheel going up the hill, let it pull you up after it. When a wise man gives you better advice than this, give me my advice back. I'm a fool dispensing advice, so I want only scoundrels taking it. The man who works only for profit, and puts on a show of loyalty, will pack up when it starts to rain and leave you in the storm. But I will stay. The fool will stay. And let the wise man flee. The servant who runs away becomes a fool, but this fool is no scoundrel, so help me God.
KENT
Where learned you this, Fool?
KENT
Where did you learn all this, Fool?
FOOL
Not i' th' stocks, fool.
FOOL
Not in the stocks, fool.
Enter LEAR and GLOUCESTER
LEAR
Deny to speak with me? They are sick? They are weary? They have traveled all the night?—mere fetches, ay! The images of revolt and flying off. Fetch me a better answer.
LEAR
They refuse to speak with me? They're sick? They're weary? They've traveled all night? These are just excuses! These are the signs of rebellion and desertion. Go back and bring me a better answer.
GLOUCESTER
My dear lord, You know the fiery quality of the duke, How unremoveable and fixed he is In his own course.
GLOUCESTER
My dear lord, you know the duke's fiery, stubborn nature, and how unshakeable he is once he's made a decision.
LEAR
Vengeance, plague, death, confusion! “Fiery?” What “quality?” Why, Gloucester, Gloucester,I’d speak with the Duke of Cornwall and his wife.
LEAR
Vengeance, plague, death, and destruction! "Fiery?" What "stubborn nature?" Why, Gloucester, Gloucester, I want to speak with the Duke of Cornwall and his wife.
GLOUCESTER
Well, my good lord, I have informed them so.
GLOUCESTER
Well, my good lord, I've informed them of that.
LEAR
“Informed them?” Dost thou understand me, man?
LEAR
"Informed them?" Do you understand me, man?
GLOUCESTER
Ay, my good lord.
GLOUCESTER
Yes, my good lord.
LEAR
The king would speak with Cornwall. The dear father Would with his daughter speak, commands, tends service. Are they “informed” of this? My breath and blood! “Fiery?” The “fiery” duke? Tell the hot duke that Lear— No, but not yet. Maybe he is not well. Infirmity doth still neglect all office Whereto our health is bound. We are not ourselves When nature, being oppressed, commands the mind To suffer with the body. I’ll forbear, And am fallen out with my more headier will To take the indisposed and sickly fit For the sound man. [notices KENT again] Death on my state! Wherefore Should he sit here? This act persuades me That this remotion of the duke and her Is practice only. Give me my servant forth. Go tell the duke and ’s wife I’d speak with them— Now, presently. Bid them come forth and hear me, Or at their chamber door I’ll beat the drum Till it cry sleep to death.
LEAR
The king wants to speak with Cornwall. The dear father wants to speak with his daughter. He commands that she attend to him. Are they "informed" of this? By my breath and blood! "Fiery?" The "fiery" duke? Well tell that hot-headed duke that Lear . . . But no, not yet. Maybe he's sick. Sickness can make us forget the duties that we owe when we're healthy. We're not ourselves when illness makes our minds suffer along with our bodies. I'll restrain my rage, and fight against my fickle temper, which makes me want to judge a sick man like a healthy one. [He notices KENT again] A curse on my kingship! Why should Kent be locked up here? His punishment persuades me that the duke and Regan's refusal to see me is just trickery. Have my servant released. Go tell the duke and his wife that I will speak with them—now, immediately. Tell them to come out and listen to me, or else I'll beat a drum outside their bedroom door until they have to wake up.
GLOUCESTER
I would have all well betwixt you.
GLOUCESTER
I want there to be peace between you.
Exit GLOUCESTER
LEAR
O me, my heart, my rising heart! But down.
LEAR
Oh, my heart, my hysterical rising heart! But stay down, heart.
FOOL
Cry to it, nuncle, as the cockney did to the eels when she put 'em i' th' paste alive. She knapped 'em o' th' coxcombs with a stick and cried, “Down, wantons, down!” 'Twas her brother that, in pure kindness to his horse, buttered his hay.
FOOL
Good, uncle, yell at your heart like the housewife who yelled at the live eels she was putting in her pie. She hit them on their heads with a stick and cried, "Down, you naughty things, stay down!" And her brother wanted to be kind to his horse, so he buttered its hay.
Enter the Duke of CORNWALL, REGAN, GLOUCESTER, and servants
LEAR
Good morrow to you both.
LEAR
Good morning to you both.
CORNWALL
Hail to your grace.
CORNWALL
Greetings to your Grace.
KENT here set at liberty
REGAN
I am glad to see your highness.
REGAN
I am glad to see your Highness.
LEAR
Regan, I think you are. I know what reason I have to think so: if thou shouldst not be glad, I would divorce me from thy mother’s tomb, Sepulchring an adultress. [to KENT] Oh, are you free? Some other time for that.
LEAR
I believe you are glad, Regan. And I know why I believe you: if you weren't glad to see me, then I'd divorce your dead mother, since you would be a bastard—no true daughter of mine—and I would know she had committed adultery.
[To KENT] Oh, are you free? We'll talk later.
Exit KENT
Belovèd Regan, Thy sister’s naught. O Regan, she hath tied Sharp-toothed unkindness, like a vulture, here. [indicates his heart] I can scarce speak to thee. Thou'lt not believe With how depraved a quality— O Regan!
Beloved Regan, your sister Goneril is worthless and wicked. Oh, Regan, she's torn me apart with her sharp unkindness, like a vulture, right here. [He points to his heart] I can hardly speak about it. You won't believe how horribly—Oh, Regan!
REGAN
I pray you, sir, take patience. I have hopeYou less know how to value her desertThan she to scant her duty.
REGAN
Please, sir, calm down. I think it's more likely that you don't know how to value her good qualities than that she would neglect her duties to you.
LEAR
Say, how is that?
LEAR
What do you mean by that?
REGAN
I cannot think my sister in the least Would fail her obligation. If, sir, perchance She have restrained the riots of your followers, 'Tis on such ground and to such wholesome end As clears her from all blame.
REGAN
I can't believe that my sister would fail in her obligations at all. Sir, if she happened to restrain the rowdiness of your knights, then she must have had a good enough reason for it that she's free from all blame.
LEAR
My curses on her!
LEAR
My curses on her!
REGAN
O sir, you are old. Nature in you stands on the very verge Of his confine. You should be ruled and led By some discretion that discerns your state Better than you yourself. Therefore I pray you That to our sister you do make return. Say you have wronged her, sir.
REGAN
Oh, sir, you are old. You're at the very edge of your allotted lifespan. You should let yourself be ruled and led by someone who understands you better than you can understand yourself. So please go back to my sister's house. Admit that you've wronged her, sir.
LEAR
Ask her forgiveness? Do you but mark how this becomes the house?— [kneels] “Dear daughter, I confess that I am old. Age is unnecessary. On my knees I beg That you’ll vouchsafe me raiment, bed, and food.”
LEAR
I should ask her forgiveness? Do you understand how that would shame our royal family's honor? [He kneels] "Dear daughter, I confess that I am old. Old people are unnecessary. On my knees I beg you to give me clothes, a bed, and food."
REGAN
Good sir, no more. These are unsightly tricks.Return you to my sister.
REGAN
Stop this, good sir. These are shameful antics. Go back to my sister.
LEAR
[rising] Never, Regan. She hath abated me of half my train, Looked black upon me, struck me with her tongue, Most serpentlike, upon the very heart. All the stored vengeances of heaven fall On her ingrateful top! Strike her young bones, You taking airs, with lameness!
LEAR
[Standing up] Never, Regan. She's dismissed half of my knights, glared at me evilly, and struck me in the heart with her venomous insults. May all the anger of heaven strike her ungrateful head! May she get sick with infectious airs, and may her young limbs go lame!
CORNWALL
Fie, sir, fie!
CORNWALL
Stop, sir! Shame on you!
LEAR
You nimble lightnings, dart your blinding flames Into her scornful eyes! Infect her beauty, You fen-sucked fogs drawn by the powerful sun, To fall and blister!
LEAR
May lighting strike her in her scornful eyes! May swampy, poisonous fog blister her face and ruin her beauty!
REGAN
O the blessed gods!So will you wish on me when the rash mood is on.
REGAN
Oh, by the blessed gods! You'll aim the same curses at me if the mood strikes you.
LEAR
No, Regan, thou shalt never have my curse. Thy tender-hafted 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' th' kingdom hast thou not forgot, Wherein I thee endowed.
LEAR
No, Regan, I'll never curse you. Your tender nature will never turn harsh and cruel. Her eyes are fierce and vicious, but yours are comforting. You would never deny me my pleasures, dismiss my knights, thoughtlessly insult me, reduce my privileges, or lock the door against me. You know better than she does the natural duties of a child to a parent, the politeness and love that comes with gratitude. You haven't forgotten your half of the kingdom that I gave you.
REGAN
Good sir, to the purpose.
REGAN
Good sir, get to the point.
LEAR
Who put my man i' th' stocks?
LEAR
Who put my messenger in the stocks?
Tucket within
CORNWALL
What trumpet’s that?
CORNWALL
What's that trumpet?
Enter OSWALD the steward
REGAN
I know ’t—my sister’s. This approves her letterThat she would soon be here. [to OSWALD] Is your lady come?
REGAN
I know it—it's my sister's. This is just what her letter said, that she would be here soon.
[To OSWALD] Has your lady arrived?
LEAR
This is a slave whose easy borrowed pride Dwells in the fickle grace of her he follows.—Out, varlet, from my sight!
LEAR
This is the villain whose cheap arrogance comes from his position as a steward to that fickle Goneril.
[To OSWALD] Out, you wretch, get out of my sight!
CORNWALL
What means your grace?
CORNWALL
What do you mean, your Grace?
Enter GONERIL
LEAR
Who stocked my servant? Regan, I have good hope Thou didst not know on ’t.—Who comes here? O heavens, 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?
LEAR
Who put my servant in the stocks? Regan, I hope you didn't know anything about it. Who's coming? Oh, gods, if you love old men and approve of children being obedient to their parents—if you yourselves are old—then take my side. Hurl down a lightning bolt for my cause!
[To GONERIL] Aren't you ashamed to look at me, after you've abused me so badly in my old age?
[To REGAN] Oh, Regan, are you really taking her by the hand?
GONERIL
Why not by th' hand, sir? How have I offended?All’s not offense that indiscretion findsAnd dotage terms so.
GONERIL
Why shouldn't she take me by the hand, sir? What crime have I committed? Just because a senile old man calls something an insult doesn't mean it is one.
LEAR
O sides, you are too tough.Will you yet hold?—How came my man i' th' stocks?
LEAR
Oh, how can my ribs contain my grieving heart? Why don't they burst? How did my messenger come to be put in the stocks?
CORNWALL
I set him there, sir, but his own disordersDeserved much less advancement.
CORNWALL
I put him there, sir. But his disorderly behavior deserved a worse punishment.
LEAR
You! Did you?
LEAR
You! You did this?
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.
REGAN
Please, father, you are weak. Stop pretending to be strong. Dismiss half your knights and go back to stay with my sister for the rest of the month. Then you can stay with me the next month. I'm away from home right now, so I can't provide you with the hospitality you deserve.
LEAR
Return to her, and fifty men dismissed? No, rather I abjure all roofs, and choose To be a comrade with the wolf and owl— To wage against the enmity o' th' air— 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, squirelike, pension beg To keep base life afoot. Return with her? Persuade me rather to be slave and sumpter To this detested groom. [indicates OSWALD ]
LEAR
Return to her, and dismiss fifty knights? No, I would rather refuse to live under any roof at all, and choose to live as a comrade of the wolf and the owl—fighting against the harshness of the open air, and living with the sharp pinch of poverty! Return with her? Why, it would be better for me to visit the hot-blooded King of France— who took my youngest daughter without a dowry—kneel before his throne, and beg like a servant that he should give me a pension to support my worthless life. Return with her? I'd rather be a scoundrel and a packhorse to this detestable stablehand here! [He points to OSWALD]
GONERIL
At your choice, sir.
GONERIL
Do any of that if you want to, sir.
LEAR
Now, 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 or embossèd 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.
LEAR
No, please, daughter, don't make me go crazy. I won't bother you, my child. Farewell. We'll never meet or see each other again. But you're still my child, my daughter, my flesh and blood—or rather you're a disease that's in my flesh, which is still technically my "flesh and blood." You're a pimple, a sore, a raised tumor corrupting my blood. But I won't criticize you. Shame will come to you when it decides to. I won't encourage it now. I won't ask the gods to smite you with lightning, or complain about you to them. Mend your ways if you can. Better yourself at your leisure. I can be patient. I can stay with Regan, along with my hundred knights.
REGAN
Not altogether so, sir. I looked 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.
REGAN
Not quite, sir. I wasn't expecting your arrival, and I'm not ready to take care of you. Listen to what my sister is saying, sir. We're trying to mix some reason in with your passionate anger, even though we realize that you're old. But Goneril knows what she's doing.
LEAR
Is this well spoken now?
LEAR
Do you really mean what you've just said?
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.
REGAN
I'll dare to say yes, sir. What, fifty knights? Isn't that enough for you? Why should you need more—or even that many—since fifty knights are expensive and dangerous to keep? How can many people serve two masters and still be at peace under one roof? It's hard, almost impossible.
GONERIL
Why might not you, my lord, receive attendanceFrom those that she calls servants, or from mine?
GONERIL
Why can't you let yourself be attended by Regan's servants, or 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.
REGAN
Why not, my lord? Then if they happened to neglect you, we could control them. But now that I think about how dangerous fifty knights are, I must say that if you come to stay with me, please bring only twenty-five along with you. I won't house or acknowledge any more than that.
LEAR
I gave you all—
LEAR
I gave you everything—
REGAN
And in good time you gave it.
REGAN
And you took your time in giving it.
LEAR
Made you my guardians, my depositaries, But kept a reservation to be followed With such a number. What, must I come to you With five and twenty, Regan? Said you so?
LEAR
I made you the protectors and trustees of my kingdom, on the condition that I could keep a hundred knights for myself. So why should I have to come to you with only twenty-five, Regan? Is that what you said?
REGAN
And speak ’t again, my lord. No more with me.
REGAN
Yes, and I'll say it again, my lord. I'll accept no more than twenty-five.
LEAR
Those wicked creatures yet do look well favored 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.
LEAR
Wicked people start to look better when others become even more wicked. Not being the worst daughter deserves a little praise, I suppose.
[To GONERIL] I'll go with you. Your fifty is still twice her twenty-five, so you must love me twice as much a she does.
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?
GONERIL
Hear me, my lord. Why do you need twenty-five, or ten, or even five to follow you, when you'll be in a house with twice that many servants to take care of you?
REGAN
What need one?
REGAN
Why do you need even one?
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 my man’s cheeks! No, you unnatural hags, I will have such revenges on you both That all the world shall— I will do such things— What they are yet I know not, but they shall be The terrors of the earth. You think I’ll weep? No, I’ll not weep.
LEAR
Oh, don't be so logical about needs! Even the poorest beggars have at least something they don't need. If you only allow people to have what they need to survive, then a man's life becomes as cheap as an animal's. You are a fashionable lady. If you dressed only to stay warm, then you wouldn't need the gorgeous clothes you're wearing, as they hardly keep you warm at all. But as for my true needs—may the heavens give me endurance, the endurance that I need. You see me here, you gods, a poor old man, as wretched in his grief as he is in his frailty. If it's you who inspire these daughters to turn against their father, then at least don't make me such a fool as to take their insolence without protesting. Give me noble anger, and don't let any womanly tears stain my man's cheeks! No, you unnatural hags, I'll have such a revenge on you both that the whole world will . . . I'll do such things . . . I don't know what things I'll do yet, but they will be terrible. You think I'll weep? No, I won't weep.
Storm and tempest
I have full cause of weeping, but this heart Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws, Or ere I’ll weep.— O Fool, I shall go mad!
I have good reason to weep, but my heart will break into a hundred thousand pieces before I'll let myself weep. Oh, Fool, I'll go crazy!
Exeunt LEAR, GENTLEMAN, FOOL, and GLOUCESTER
CORNWALL
Let us withdraw. 'Twill be a storm.
CORNWALL
Let's go inside. There will be a storm.
REGAN
This house is little. The old man and his peopleCannot be well bestowed.
REGAN
This house is small. We can't properly shelter the old man and his followers here.
GONERIL
'Tis his own blame. Hath put himself from rest,And must needs taste his folly.
GONERIL
That's his own fault. He has deprived himself of sleep, and must taste the results of his foolishness.
REGAN
For his particular I’ll receive him gladly,But not one follower.
REGAN
I'll be happy to keep him in my house, but I won't house a single one of his followers.
GONERIL
So am I purposed.Where is my lord of Gloucester?
GONERIL
And I'll do the same. Where is the lord of Gloucester?
CORNWALL
Followed the old man forth. He is returned.
CORNWALL
He followed the old man. But now he's coming back.
Enter GLOUCESTER
GLOUCESTER
The king is in high rage.
GLOUCESTER
The king is enraged.
CORNWALL
Whither is he going?
CORNWALL
Where is he going?
GLOUCESTER
He calls to horse, but will I know not whither.
GLOUCESTER
He called for his horse, but I don't know where he intends to ride.
CORNWALL
'Tis best to give him way. He leads himself.
CORNWALL
It's best to just let him go. He'll only allow himself to be lead by himself.
GONERIL
[to GLOUCESTER] My lord, entreat him by no means to stay.
GONERIL
[To GLOUCESTER] My lord, don't try to convince him to stay.
GLOUCESTER
Alack, the night comes on, and the high windsDo sorely ruffle. For many miles aboutThere’s scarce a bush.
GLOUCESTER
Alas, night is falling, and the high winds are blowing angrily. There's hardly a bush for many miles around. He won't have any shelter at all.
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.
REGAN
Oh, sir, willful men only learn their lessons from the injuries they get in their foolishness. Shut your doors. His attendants are violent men, and I'm afraid of what they might encourage him to do, especially since he can be deceived so easily.
CORNWALL
Shut up your doors, my lord. 'Tis a wild night.My Regan counsels well. Come out o' th' storm.
CORNWALL
Shut your doors, my lord. It's a wild night. My sister Regan's advice is good. Come in out of the storm.
Exeunt
