The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated)

by William Shakespeare

  He'll shape his old course in a country new.

  Exit

  Flourish. Re-enter GLOUCESTER, with KING OF FRANCE, BURGUNDY, and Attendants

  And may your deeds be as good as your great speeches,

  so good things come from the words of love.

  So, Princes, Kent says goodbye to all of you;

  he'll follow his old ways in a new country.

  GLOUCESTER

  Here's France and Burgundy, my noble lord.

  Here are France and Burgundy, my noble lord.

  KING LEAR

  My lord of Burgundy.

  We first address towards you, who with this king

  Hath rivall'd for our daughter: what, in the least,

  Will you require in present dower with her,

  Or cease your quest of love?

  My lord of Burgundy,

  we will ask you first, who have been

  competing with this king for daughter: what is the smallest

  dowry you would accept with her,

  or withdraw your suit?

  BURGUNDY

  Most royal majesty,

  I crave no more than what your highness offer'd,

  Nor will you tender less.

  Most royal majesty,

  I want no more than what your Highness offered,

  and you will not offer less.

  KING LEAR

  Right noble Burgundy,

  When she was dear to us, we did hold her so;

  But now her price is fall'n. Sir, there she stands:

  If aught within that little seeming substance,

  Or all of it, with our displeasure pieced,

  And nothing more, may fitly like your grace,

  She's there, and she is yours.

  Truly noble Burgundy,

  when I loved her, I valued her at one price;

  but now her price has fallen. Sir, there she is:

  if there's anything in that insignificant thing,

  or all of it, with our displeasure attached to it,

  and nothing else, suits your Grace,

  there she is, and you can have her.

  BURGUNDY

  I know no answer.

  I don't know what to say.

  KING LEAR

  Will you, with those infirmities she owes,

  Unfriended, new-adopted to our hate,

  Dower'd with our curse, and stranger'd with our oath,

  Take her, or leave her?

  Will you, considering the weaknesses she has,

  friendless, newly hated by me,

  bringing my curse as her dowry, and exiled by my vow,

  take her or leave her?

  BURGUNDY

  Pardon me, royal sir;

  Election makes not up on such conditions.

  Pardon me, your Highness;

  I can't choose under those conditions.

  KING LEAR

  Then leave her, sir; for, by the power that made me,

  I tell you all her wealth.

  Then leave her, Sir; for I swear to God

  I have told you all she has.

  To KING OF FRANCE

  For you, great king,

  I would not from your love make such a stray,

  To match you where I hate; therefore beseech you

  To avert your liking a more worthier way

  Than on a wretch whom nature is ashamed

  Almost to acknowledge hers.

  As for you, great King,

  I would not insult your love,

  by marrying you to someone I hated; so I ask you

  to look for someone better to love

  than a wretch whom nature

  has almost disowned.

  KING OF FRANCE

  This is most strange,

  That she, that even but now was your best object,

  The argument of your praise, balm of your age,

  Most best, most dearest, should in this trice of time

  Commit a thing so monstrous, to dismantle

  So many folds of favour. Sure, her offence

  Must be of such unnatural degree,

  That monsters it, or your fore-vouch'd affection

  Fall'n into taint: which to believe of her,

  Must be a faith that reason without miracle

  Could never plant in me.

  This is most odd,

  that she, who just recently was your favourite thing,

  the subject of all your praise, delight of your old age,

  best, dearest, should in the blink of an eye

  do something so terrible that she would lose

  all these marks of favour. The offence must surely

  be so unnatural and monstrous

  to pollute your former affection:

  to believe that she could do something like that

  is something that I could never do

  without a miracle.

  CORDELIA

  I yet beseech your majesty,--

  If for I want that glib and oily art,

  To speak and purpose not; since what I well intend,

  I'll do't before I speak,--that you make known

  It is no vicious blot, murder, or foulness,

  No unchaste action, or dishonour'd step,

  That hath deprived me of your grace and favour;

  But even for want of that for which I am richer,

  A still-soliciting eye, and such a tongue

  As I am glad I have not, though not to have it

  Hath lost me in your liking.

  Still I beg your Majesty's pardon,

  if I am lacking in that shallow and oily skill,

  to say things that I don't mean–what I do mean

  I'll do before I speak of it–you must know

  it is not some horrible character stain, murder or unpleasantness,

  no unchaste behaviour, or dishonourable action,

  that has taken your grace and favour away from me;

  what has is that I lack something which I am better for lacking,

  a beggar's eye, and a tongue

  that I am glad I have not got, even though not having it

  has cost me your approval.

  KING LEAR

  Better thou

  Hadst not been born than not to have pleased me better.

  It would have been better

  for you never to have been born than not to be better at pleasing me.

  KING OF FRANCE

  Is it but this,--a tardiness in nature

  Which often leaves the history unspoke

  That it intends to do? My lord of Burgundy,

  What say you to the lady? Love's not love

  When it is mingled with regards that stand

  Aloof from the entire point. Will you have her?

  She is herself a dowry.

  Is this all the problem–a natural reticence

  which often doesn't speak

  of what it intends to do? My lord of Burgundy,

  what do you say to the lady? Love is not love

  when it is mixed with desires that are

  separate from the person. Will you have her?

  She is enough, with or without dowry.

  BURGUNDY

  Royal Lear,

  Give but that portion which yourself proposed,

  And here I take Cordelia by the hand,

  Duchess of Burgundy.

  Royal Lear,

  just give the share you mentioned

  and I will take Cordelia by the hand,

  and make her Duchess of Burgundy.

  KING LEAR

  Nothing: I have sworn; I am firm.

  She will get nothing: I have sworn it; I won't be moved.

  BURGUNDY

  I am sorry, then, you have so lost a father

  That you must lose a husband.

  I'm sorry that you have alienated your father so much

  that you have lost a husband as well.

  CORDELIA

  Peace be with Burgundy!

&
nbsp; Since that respects of fortune are his love,

  I shall not be his wife.

  May Burgundy be at peace!

  Since possessions are what he loves,

  I will not marry him.

  KING OF FRANCE

  Fairest Cordelia, that art most rich, being poor;

  Most choice, forsaken; and most loved, despised!

  Thee and thy virtues here I seize upon:

  Be it lawful I take up what's cast away.

  Gods, gods! 'tis strange that from their cold'st neglect

  My love should kindle to inflamed respect.

  Thy dowerless daughter, king, thrown to my chance,

  Is queen of us, of ours, and our fair France:

  Not all the dukes of waterish Burgundy

  Can buy this unprized precious maid of me.

  Bid them farewell, Cordelia, though unkind:

  Thou losest here, a better where to find.

  Fairest Cordelia, who is richest when poor;

  most wanted when abandoned; and most loved when despised!

  I will take you and your goodness:

  it's permitted for me to pick up what has been thrown away.

  By God! It is strange that their cold rejection

  has kindled my love and respect.

  King, your disinherited daughter, come to me by chance,

  is the queen of me, my people and my fair country, France:

  all the Dukes of weak Burgundy cannot

  buy this unvalued precious girl from me.

  Say goodbye to them, Cordelia, though they've treated you badly:

  you have lost this place, but you are going to a better one.

  KING LEAR

  Thou hast her, France: let her be thine; for we

  Have no such daughter, nor shall ever see

  That face of hers again. Therefore be gone

  Without our grace, our love, our benison.

  Come, noble Burgundy.

  Flourish. Exeunt all but KING OF FRANCE, GONERIL, REGAN, and CORDELIA

  You have her, France: you can keep her; I

  have no daughter like her, and will never look

  on her face again. So get out,

  without my kindness, my love, or my blessing.

  Come on, noble Burgundy.

  KING OF FRANCE

  Bid farewell to your sisters.

  Say goodbye to your sisters.

  CORDELIA

  The jewels of our father, with wash'd eyes

  Cordelia leaves you: I know you what you are;

  And like a sister am most loath to call

  Your faults as they are named. Use well our father:

  To your professed bosoms I commit him

  But yet, alas, stood I within his grace,

  I would prefer him to a better place.

  So, farewell to you both.

  You, my father's treasures, Cordelia leaves you

  with eyes washed clean with tears: I know what you are;

  and as your sister I am reluctant to

  specify your faults. Be good to our father:

  I hand him over to the love you spoke of,

  although, sadly, if he still liked me

  I would sooner he had better care.

  So, farewell to you both.

  REGAN

  Prescribe not us our duties.

  Don't tell us what to do.

  GONERIL

  Let your study

  Be to content your lord, who hath received you

  At fortune's alms. You have obedience scanted,

  And well are worth the want that you have wanted.

  You should be thinking

  about how to please your husband, who has accepted you

  as a beggar accepts money. You have lacked obedience,

  and deserve to be badly treated on account of it.

  CORDELIA

  Time shall unfold what plaited cunning hides:

  Who cover faults, at last shame them derides.

  Well may you prosper!

  Time will reveal what twisted cunning has hidden:

  whoever hides their faults will get found out in the end.

  Good luck to you!

  KING OF FRANCE

  Come, my fair Cordelia.

  Exeunt KING OF FRANCE and CORDELIA

  Come with me, my fair Cordelia.

  GONERIL

  Sister, it is not a little I have to say of what

  most nearly appertains to us both. I think our

  father will hence to-night.

  Sister, I have much to say about matters

  which closely concern us both. I think our

  father will leave here tonight.

  REGAN

  That's most certain, and with you; next month with us.

  Definitely, he'll go with you; next month he'll come to me.

  GONERIL

  You see how full of changes his age is; the

  observation we have made of it hath not been

  little: he always loved our sister most; and

  with what poor judgment he hath now cast her off

  appears too grossly.

  You see how much his age has changed him;

  I have seen plenty of evidence:

  he always loved our sister the best,

  and in his rejection of her his poor judgement

  is all too obvious.

  REGAN

  'Tis the infirmity of his age: yet he hath ever

  but slenderly known himself.

  It's part of the weakness of age, though he's always

  been unthinking.

  GONERIL

  The best and soundest of his time hath been but

  rash; then must we look to receive from his age,

  not alone the imperfections of long-engraffed

  condition, but therewithal the unruly waywardness

  that infirm and choleric years bring with them.

  Even when he was in the peak of condition he was

  hotheaded; and so as he gets older we must expect

  not only to have to put up with his firmly embedded

  temper, but along with it the chaotic changeability

  that his old age and illness will bring with them.

  REGAN

  Such unconstant starts are we like to have from

  him as this of Kent's banishment.

  We will have to expect sudden whims from him

  like this exiling of Kent.

  GONERIL

  There is further compliment of leavetaking

  between France and him. Pray you, let's hit

  together: if our father carry authority with

  such dispositions as he bears, this last

  surrender of his will but offend us.

  There are going to be more formal goodbyes

  between him and France. Come on,

  let's stick together: if our father is going

  to exercise his power with these sort of moods

  his recent arrangements will be a nuisance to us.

  REGAN

  We shall further think on't.

  I shall think more about it.

  GONERIL

  We must do something, and i' the heat.

  Exeunt

  We must do something, and do it quickly.

  Enter EDMUND, with a letter

  EDMUND

  Thou, nature, art my goddess; to thy law

  My services are bound. Wherefore should I

  Stand in the plague of custom, and permit

  The curiosity of nations to deprive me,

  For that I am some twelve or fourteen moon-shines

  Lag of a brother? Why bastard? wherefore base?

  When my dimensions are as well compact,

  My mind as generous, and my shape as true,

  As honest madam's issue? Why brand they us

  With base? with baseness? bastardy? base, base?

  Who, in the lusty stealth of nature, take

  More composition and fierce qu
ality

  Than doth, within a dull, stale, tired bed,

  Go to the creating a whole tribe of fops,

  Got 'tween asleep and wake? Well, then,

  Legitimate Edgar, I must have your land:

  Our father's love is to the bastard Edmund

  As to the legitimate: fine word,--legitimate!

  Well, my legitimate, if this letter speed,

  And my invention thrive, Edmund the base

  Shall top the legitimate. I grow; I prosper:

  Now, gods, stand up for bastards!

  Enter GLOUCESTER

  You, nature, are my Goddess; I

  am a servant of your laws. Why should I

  have to suffer from tradition, and allow

  squeamish customs to keep me deprived,

  just because I am twelve or fourteen months younger

  than my brother? Why am I called a bastard? Why am I thought lowly?

  I have just as good a body,

  my mind is just as noble, I look just as much like my father

  as the child of a married woman. Why do they brand me

  as lowly? Having low nature? Bastardy? Low, low?

  I, from those lusty natural acts, get

  a more rounded nature and greater energy

  than you get from creating a whole tribe of weaklings

  in a dull, stale, tired bed,

  conceived by half asleep lovers.

  So then, Edgar the legitimate, I must have your land:

  our father loves the bastard Edmund

  just as much as the legitimate son: that's a good word, legitimate!

  Well, legitimate one, if this letter does well,

  and my plans thrive, Edmund the bastard

  will beat the legitimate. I am growing: I shall prosper:

  now, gods, stand up for bastards!

  GLOUCESTER

  Kent banish'd thus! and France in choler parted!