The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated)
Page 560
how evil she has proved–oh Regan!
REGAN
I pray you, sir, take patience: I have hope.
You less know how to value her desert
Than she to scant her duty.
Please sir, be patient: I have hopes.
It's surely more likely that you have misunderstood her
than that she is neglecting her duty.
KING LEAR
Say, how is that?
What are you talking about?
REGAN
I cannot think my sister in the least
Would fail her obligation: if, sir, perchance
She have restrain'd the riots of your followers,
'Tis on such ground, and to such wholesome end,
As clears her from all blame.
I can't imagine that my sister would ever
fail to do her duty: maybe, sir, if
she has stopped your followers' rowdiness
it was for good reasons and for a good end,
which would absolve her of all blame.
KING LEAR
My curses on her!
My curses on her!
REGAN
O, sir, you are old.
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. Therefore, I pray you,
That to our sister you do make return;
Say you have wrong'd her, sir.
Oh, sir, you are old.
Life has almost run its course
in you: you should be ruled and guided
by the wisdom of others, who can see your position
more clearly than you. So, I ask you,
to make it up to my sister;
admit that you have wronged her, sir.
KING LEAR
Ask her forgiveness?
Do you but mark how this 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.'
Ask her forgiveness?
Think how this would befit my dignity:
‘Dear daughter, I confess that I am old;
old people are useless: I'm begging you on my knees
to please let me have clothes, food and a bed.’
REGAN
Good sir, no more; these are unsightly tricks:
Return you to my sister.
Stop this, good sir; these are silly tricks:
go back 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!
Never, Regan:
she took away half my entourage;
she gave me dirty looks, attacked me with her tongue,
like a snake, going for the heart:
may all the vengeance heaven has saved up
fall on her ungrateful head! You infecting winds,
strike her young bones down with lameness!
CORNWALL
Fie, sir, fie!
Come on now sir, come on!
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!
You quick lightning, stab your blinding fire
into her scornful eyes! You mists from the fens,
pulled up by the powerful sun, infect her beauty,
knock her down and ruin her pride!
REGAN
O the blest gods! so will you wish on me,
When the rash mood is on.
Oh by the gods! This is how you will curse me,
when you get angry.
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.
No, Regan, I will never curse you:
your womanly nature will never
make you so harsh: her eyes are fierce; but yours
comfort rather than burn. You would not
begrudge me my pleasures, reduce my retinue,
speak rudely to me, cut my rations,
and in the end bolt the doors
to my entrance: you are more respectful
of the duties of nature, of a child,
the function of manners, the gratitude that is owed;
you have not forgotten that I
gave you half my kingdom.
REGAN
Good sir, to the purpose.
Good sir, let's get to the point.
KING LEAR
Who put my man i' the stocks?
Tucket within
Who put my man in the stocks?
CORNWALL
What trumpet's that?
What's that trumpet?
REGAN
I know't, my sister's: this approves her letter,
That she would soon be here.
Enter OSWALD
Is your lady come?
I know it, it is my sister's. This confirms her letter,
which said she would soon be here.
Has 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!
This man is scum, who lounges around basking
in the reflected glory of the one he follows.
Get out of my sight, you scoundrel!
CORNWALL
What means your grace?
What does your grace mean?
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?
Who put my servant in the stocks? Regan, I'm assuming
you knew nothing about it. Who's this coming? Good heavens,
If you love old men, if your sweet influence
rewards obedience, if you are old yourself,
then fight this battle; send down your powers for me.
Are you not ashamed to look at my beard?
Oh Regan, you're taking 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.
Why not by the hand, sir? What have I done wrong?
Not everything is an offence just because
rashness and senility say it is.
KING LEAR
O sides, you are too tough;
Will you yet hold? How came my man i' the stocks?
I feel like my heart
is about to burst.
Who put my man in the stocks?
CORNWALL
I set him there, sir: but his own disorders
Deserved much less advancement.
I put him there, sir: but his behaviour
deserved much worse.
KING LEAR
You! did you?
You! It was 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.
I must ask you, father, to behave appropriately for your position.
If you will go back, until the end of the month,
and complete your stay with my sister,
and dismiss half your entourage, them come to me:
I am not at home now, and things are not prepared
to give you a proper welcome.
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
Go back to her, and sack fifty men?
No, in preference I reject all shelter
and choose to live in the open air;
I shall live with the wolf and the owl,
if that's what I'm forced to do! Go back with her?
I might just as well go to passionate France,
who took my youngest child without a dowry,
and kneel before his throne like a squire,
begging for a pension to keep my poor life going.
Go back with her? You might as well tell me
that I had to be a servant and carrier
for this disgusting groom.
GONERIL
At your choice, sir.
It's 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.
Please, daughter, do not make me angry:
I won't bother you, my child; farewell:
we'll never meet or see one another again:
but you are still my flesh and blood, my daughter:
or rather you are a disease in my flesh,
which I have to call mine: you are a boil
a plague sore, a swollen carbuncle
in my diseased blood. But I won't criticise you;
let the shame come in its own time, I don't summon it:
I have not told the God of Thunder to fire
and I do not tell tales about you to the great judge Jove:
change your ways when you can; get better at your own pace:
I can be patient; I can stay with Regan,
me 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.
That's not quite the case:
I wasn't expecting you yet, and I'm not ready
to give you a proper welcome. Listen, sir, to my sister;
those who apply a little common sense to your anger
must acknowledge that you are old, and so–
but she knows what she's doing.
KING LEAR
Is this well spoken?
This is what you have to say?
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.
It's what I think, sir: what, fifty followers?
Isn't that enough? Why should you need any more?
In fact why do you need so many, since the expense and risk
suggest you should have fewer? How can so many people
keep the peace in one house when they are under
two different commanders? It's hard; it's almost impossible.
GONERIL
Why might not you, my lord, receive attendance
From those that she calls servants or from mine?
My lord, why can you not be waited on
by her servants or by 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.
Why not, my lord? If they did not serve you well,
we would punish them. If you want to come to me–
because I now feel uneasy–I must ask you
to only bring twenty-five: I will not
accommodate any more than that.
KING LEAR
I gave you all--
I gave you everything–
REGAN
And in good time you gave it.
At the right time.
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?
I made you my stewardesses, my trustees;
and all I asked was that I should have an entourage
of a certain size. So, I have to come to you
with twenty-five, Regan? Is that what you said?
REGAN
And speak't again, my lord; no more with me.
And I'll say it again, my lord; that's all I'll have.
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.
These wicked creatures are still pretty,
and there are others who are more wicked: I suppose
not being the worst is something.
To GONERIL
I'll go with thee:
Thy fifty yet doth double five and twenty,
And thou art twice her love.
I'll go with you:
your fifty is at least double her twenty-five,
and you love me twice as much.
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 comm
and to tend you?
Listen to me, my lord;
why do you need twenty five, ten, or five,
to go with you to a house where twice that number
have been ordered to serve you?
REGAN
What need one?
Why do you even 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 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:
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!
Exeunt KING LEAR, GLOUCESTER, KENT, and Fool
Storm and tempest
Oh! Do not argue about need; our lowest beggars