I love thee. This is not Lear: Doth Lear walk thus? Where are his eyes? Either his notion weakens, his discernings Are lethargied—Ha! Who is it that can tell me who I am? Fool Which they will make an obedient father. I do beseech you To understand my purposes aright: As you are old and reverend, you should be wise. The shame itself doth speak For instant remedy: be then desired By her, that else will take the thing she begs, A little to disquantity your train; And the remainder, that shall still depend, To be such men as may besort your age, And know themselves and you.
Saddle my horses; call my train together: Degenerate bastard! Yet have I left a daughter. Is it your will? Speak, sir. Prepare my horses. 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! 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. 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 disnatured torment to her!
Away, away! Within a fortnight! I am ashamed 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! Yea, it is come to this? What, Oswald, ho! To the Fool You, sir, more knave than fool, after your master.
Fool Nuncle Lear, nuncle Lear, tarry and 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. 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! What, have you writ that letter to my sister? Get you gone; And hasten your return. 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. Fool She will taste as like this as a crab does to a crab. Fool Nor I neither; but I can tell why a snail has a house.
Fool Why, to put his head in; not to give it away to his daughters, and leave his horns without a case. So kind a father! Be my horses ready? The reason why the seven stars are no more than seven is a pretty reason.
Fool Yes, indeed: thou wouldst make a good fool. Monster ingratitude! Fool Thou shouldst not have been old till thou hadst been wise.
Enter Gentleman How now! Gentleman Ready, my lord. 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.
You have heard of the news abroad; I mean the whispered ones, for they are yet but ear-kissing arguments? Fare you well, sir. The better! 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! Advise yourself. Yield: come before my father. Light, ho, here! Fly, brother. Torches, torches! So, farewell. Wounds his arm Of my more fierce endeavour: I have seen drunkards Do more than this in sport. Father, father! Stop, stop! No help? Go after. Exeunt some Servants By no means what? 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.
I never got him. I know not why he comes. How dost, my lord? He whom my father named? Edmund, I hear that you have shown your father A child-like office. 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. Our good old friend, Lay comforts to your bosom; and bestow Your needful counsel to our business, Which craves the instant use.
KENT Ay. KENT I love thee not. I know thee not. 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.
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? I have nothing to do with thee. KENT Strike, you slave; stand, rogue, stand; you neat slave, strike.
What is the matter? KENT No marvel, you have so bestirred your valour. You cowardly rascal, nature disclaims in thee: a tailor made thee. 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.
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? You beastly knave, know you no reverence? KENT Yes, sir; but anger hath a privilege. A plague upon your epileptic visage!
Smile you my speeches, as I were a fool? KENT His countenance likes me not. 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 To go out of my dialect, which you discommend so much. As I have life and honour, There shall he sit till noon. Come, bring away the stocks! Put in his legs. KENT is put in the stocks Come, my good lord, away.
Approach, thou beacon to this under globe, That by thy comfortable beams I may Peruse this letter! Fortune, good night: smile once more: turn thy wheel! No port is free; no place, That guard, and most unusual vigilance, Does not attend my taking. Poor Turlygod! KENT Hail to thee, noble master! Makest thou this shame thy pastime? KENT No, my lord. Fool Ha, ha! KENT Yes. KENT I say, yea. KENT Yes, they have. Your son and daughter found this trespass worth The shame which here it suffers.
Fathers that wear rags Do make their children blind; But fathers that bear bags Shall see their children kind. But, for all this, thou shalt have as many dolours for thy daughters as thou canst tell in a year. Where is this daughter? KENT With the earl, sir, here within. Exit Gentleman Made you no more offence but what you speak of?
KENT None. How chance the king comes with so small a train? Let go thy hold when a great wheel runs down a hill, lest it break thy neck with following it: but the great 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, perdy.
KENT Where learned you this, fool? They are sick? Mere fetches; The images of revolt and flying off. Fetch me a better answer. Dost thou understand me, man? My breath and blood! Death on my state! This act persuades me That this remotion of the duke and her Is practise only.
Give me my servant forth. Some other time for that. You less know how to value her desert Than she to scant her duty. Nature in you stands on the very verge Of her confine: you should be ruled and led By some discretion, that discerns your state Better than you yourself.
Strike her young bones, You taking airs, with lameness! Out, varlet, from my sight! Who comes here? O Regan, wilt thou take her by the hand?
How have I offended? 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.
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. Persuade me rather to be slave and sumpter To this detested groom. 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. Is it not well? What should you need of more? How, in one house, Should many people, under two commands, Hold amity?
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. What, must I come to you With five and twenty, Regan? 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!
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. O fool, I shall go mad! Where is my lord of Gloucester? 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.
Storm still. Gentleman One minded like the weather, most unquietly. KENT I know you. This night, wherein the cub-drawn bear would couch, The lion and the belly-pinched wolf Keep their fur dry, unbonneted he runs, And bids what will take all. KENT But who is with him? Gentleman None but the fool; who labours to out-jest His heart-struck injuries. Now to you: If on my credit you dare build so far To make your speed to Dover, you shall find Some that will thank you, making just report Of how unnatural and bemadding sorrow The king hath cause to plain.
I am a gentleman of blood and breeding; And, from some knowledge and assurance, offer This office to you. Gentleman I will talk further with you. KENT No, do not. For confirmation that I am much more Than my out-wall, open this purse, and take What it contains. If you shall see Cordelia,— As fear not but you shall,—show her this ring; And she will tell you who your fellow is That yet you do not know.
Fie on this storm! I will go seek the king. Gentleman Give me your hand: have you no more to say? Exeunt severally. You sulphurous and thought-executing fires, Vaunt-couriers to oak-cleaving thunderbolts, Singe my white head!
Spit, fire! The cod-piece that will house Before the head has any, The head and he shall louse; So beggars marry many. The man that makes his toe What he his heart should make Shall of a corn cry woe, And turn his sleep to wake. For there was never yet fair woman but she made mouths in a glass. KENT Alas, sir, are you here?
KENT Alack, bare-headed! Come on, my boy: how dost, my boy? I am cold myself. Where is this straw, my fellow? The art of our necessities is strange, That can make vile things precious. Come, your hovel. Fool [Singing] He that has and a little tiny wit— With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,— Must make content with his fortunes fit, For the rain it raineth every day.
Come, bring us to this hovel. This prophecy Merlin shall make; for I live before his time. When I desire their leave that I might pity him, they took from me the use of mine own house; charged me, on pain of their perpetual displeasure, neither to speak of him, entreat for him, nor any way sustain him. I will seek him, and privily relieve him: go you and maintain talk with the duke, that my charity be not of him perceived: if he ask for me. I am ill, and gone to bed.
Though I die for it, as no less is threatened me, the king my old master must be relieved. There is some strange thing toward, Edmund; pray you, be careful.
Exit EDMUND This courtesy, forbid thee, shall the duke Instantly know; and of that letter too: This seems a fair deserving, and must draw me That which my father loses; no less than all: The younger rises when the old doth fall. KENT Good my lord, enter here. KENT I had rather break mine own. Good my lord, enter. Filial ingratitude!
But I will punish home: No, I will weep no more. In such a night To shut me out! Pour on; I will endure. In such a night as this! O Regan, Goneril! Your old kind father, whose frank heart gave all,— O, that way madness lies; let me shun that; No more of that. To the Fool In, boy; go first. You houseless poverty,— Nay, get thee in. Take physic, pomp; Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel, That thou mayst shake the superflux to them, And show the heavens more just.
Poor Tom! KENT Give me thy hand. Come forth. Through the sharp hawthorn blows the cold wind. And art thou come to this? Bless thy five wits! Bless thee from whirlwinds, star-blasting, and taking! Do poor Tom some charity, whom the foul fiend vexes: there could I have him now,—and there,—and there again, and there. Couldst thou save nothing? Didst thou give them all? Fool Nay, he reserved a blanket, else we had been all shamed.
KENT He hath no daughters, sir. Is it the fashion, that discarded fathers Should have thus little mercy on their flesh? Judicious punishment! Fool This cold night will turn us all to fools and madmen. Still through the hawthorn blows the cold wind: Says suum, mun, ha, no, nonny.
Dolphin my boy, my boy, sessa! Is man no more than this? Consider him well. Loved each and every part of this book. I will definitely recommend this book to classics, plays lovers.
Your Rating:. Your Comment:. Read Online Download. Aubyn by Edward St. Great book, King Lear pdf is enough to raise the goose bumps alone. It depicts the gradual descent into madness of the title character after he disposes of his kingdom by giving bequests to two of his three daughters egged on by their continual flattery, bringing tragic consequences for all.
King Lear has been performed by esteemed actors since the 17th century when men played all the roles. From the 20th century, a number of women have played male roles in the play; most commonly the Fool, who has been played among others by Judy Davis, Emma Thompson and Robyn Nevin. To download this book click the button below. King Lear pdf Download. I hope you have successfully downloaded King Lear Book novel from Pdfcorner.
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