To make me die with a restorative. [Kisses him. 175
Thy lips are warm!
First Watch. [Within.] Lead, boy: which way?
Jul. Yea, noise? then I’ll be brief. O happy dagger! [Snatching ROMEO’S dagger.
This is thy sheath; [Stabs herself.] there rest, and let me die. [Falls on ROMEO’S body and dies.
Enter Watch, with the Page of PARIS. 180
Page. This is the place; there where the torch doth burn.
First Watch. The ground is bloody; search about the churchyard.
Go, some of you; whoe’er you find, attach. [Exeunt some of the Watch.
Pitiful sight! here lies the county slain,
And Juliet bleeding, warm, and newly dead, 185
Who here hath lain these two days buried.
Go, tell the prince, run to the Capulets,
Raise up the Montagues, some others search: [Exeunt others of the Watch.
We see the ground whereon these woes do lie;
But the true ground of all these piteous woes 190
We cannot without circumstance descry.
Re-enter some of the Watch, with BALTHASAR.
Sec. Watch. Here’s Romeo’s man; we found him in the churchyard.
First Watch. Hold him in safety, till the prince come hither.
Re-enter others of the Watch, with FRIAR LAURENCE. 195
Third Watch. Here is a friar, that trembles, sighs, and weeps;
We took this mattock and this spade from him,
As he was coming from this churchyard side.
First Watch. A great suspicion: stay the friar too.
Enter the PRINCE and Attendants. 200
Prince. What misadventure is so early up,
That calls our person from our morning’s rest?
Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, and Others.
Cap. What should it be, that they so shriek abroad?
Lady Cap. The people in the street cry Romeo, 205
Some Juliet, and some Paris; and all run
With open outcry toward our monument.
Prince. What fear is this which startles in our ears?
First Watch. Sovereign, here lies the County Paris slain;
And Romeo dead; and Juliet, dead before, 210
Warm and new kill’d.
Prince. Search, seek, and know how this foul murder comes.
First Watch. Here is a friar, and slaughter’d Romeo’s man;
With instruments upon them, fit to open
These dead men’s tombs. 215
Cap. O, heaven! — O wife! look how our daughter bleeds!
This dagger hath mista’en! — for, lo, his house
Is empty on the back of Montague —
And is mis-sheathed in my daughter’s bosom.
Lady Cap. O me! this sight of death is as a bell, 220
That warns my old age to a sepulchre.
Cap. O, heaven! — O wife! look how our daughter bleeds!
This dagger hath mista’en! — for, lo, his house
Is empty on the back of Montague —
And is mis-sheathed in my daughter’s bosom. 225
Lady Cap. O me! this sight of death is as a bell,
That warns my old age to a sepulchre.
Enter MONTAGUE and Others.
Prince. Come, Montague: for thou art early up,
To see thy son and heir more early down. 230
Mon. Alas! my liege, my wife is dead to-night;
Grief of my son’s exile hath stopp’d her breath.
What further woe conspires against mine age?
Prince. Look, and thou shalt see.
Mon. O thou untaught! what manners is in this, 235
To press before thy father to a grave?
Prince. Seal up the mouth of outrage for a while,
Till we can clear these ambiguities,
And know their spring, their head, their true descent;
And then will I be general of your woes, 240
And lead you even to death: meantime forbear,
And let mischance be slave to patience.
Bring forth the parties of suspicion.
Fri. L. I am the greatest, able to do least,
Yet most suspected, as the time and place 245
Doth make against me, of this direful murder;
And here I stand, both to impeach and purge
Myself condemned and myself excus’d.
Prince. Then say at once what thou dost know in this.
Fri. L. I will be brief, for my short date of breath 250
Is not so long as is a tedious tale.
Romeo, there dead, was husband to that Juliet;
And she, there dead, that Romeo’s faithful wife:
I married them; and their stolen marriage-day
Was Tybalt’s doomsday, whose untimely death 255
Banish’d the new-made bridegroom from this city;
For whom, and not for Tybalt, Juliet pin’d.
You, to remove that siege of grief from her,
Betroth’d, and would have married her perforce,
To County Paris: then comes she to me, 260
And, with wild looks bid me devise some mean
To rid her from this second marriage,
Or in my cell there would she kill herself.
Then gave I her, — so tutor’d by my art, —
A sleeping potion; which so took effect 265
As I intended, for it wrought on her
The form of death: meantime I writ to Romeo
That he should hither come as this dire night,
To help to take her from her borrow’d grave,
Being the time the potion’s force should cease. 270
But he which bore my letter, Friar John,
Was stay’d by accident, and yesternight
Return’d my letter back. Then, all alone,
At the prefixed hour of her waking,
Came I to take her from her kindred’s vault, 275
Meaning to keep her closely at my cell,
Till I conveniently could send to Romeo:
But, when I came, — some minute ere the time
Of her awakening, — here untimely lay
The noble Paris and true Romeo dead. 280
She wakes; and I entreated her come forth,
And bear this work of heaven with patience;
But then a noise did scare me from the tomb,
And she, too desperate, would not go with me,
But, as it seems, did violence on herself. 285
All this I know; and to the marriage
Her nurse is privy: and, if aught in this
Miscarried by my fault, let my old life
Be sacrific’d, some hour before his time,
Unto the rigour of severest law. 290
Prince. We still have known thee for a holy man.
Where’s Romeo’s man? what can he say in this?
Bal. I brought my master news of Juliet’s death;
And then in post he came from Mantua
To this same place, to this same monument. 295
This letter he early bid me give his father,
And threaten’d me with death, going in the vault,
If I departed not and left him there.
Prince. Give me the letter; I will look on it.
Where is the county’s page that rais’d the watch? 300
Sirrah, what made your master in this place?
Page. He came with flowers to strew his lady’s grave,
And bid me stand aloof, and so I did;
Anon, comes one with light to ope the tomb;
And by and by my master drew on him; 305
And then I ran away to call the watch.
Prince. This letter doth make good the friar’s words,
Their course of love, the tidings of her death:
And here he writes that he did buy a poison
Of a poor ‘pothecary, and therewithal 310
Came to this vault to die, and l
ie with Juliet.
Where be these enemies? — Capulet! Montague!
See what a scourge is laid upon your hate,
That heaven finds means to kill your joys with love;
And I, for winking at your discords too, 315
Have lost a brace of kinsmen: all are punish’d.
Cap. O brother Montague! give me thy hand:
This is my daughter’s jointure, for no more
Can I demand.
Mon. But I can give thee more; 320
For I will raise her statue in pure gold;
That while Verona by that name is known.
There shall no figure at such rate be set
As that of true and faithful Juliet.
Cap. As rich shall Romeo by his lady lie; 325
Poor sacrifices of our enmity!
Prince. A glooming peace this morning with it brings;
The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head:
Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things:
Some shall be pardon’d, and some punished: 330
For never was a story of more woe
Than this of Juliet and her Romeo. [Exeunt.
KING LEAR by William Shakespeare
Circa 1605
Though largely forgotten for many years, this tragedy is now regarded as one of the greatest dramatic works ever written. It tells the story of Lear, who descends into madness after foolishly disposing of his kingdom between two of his three daughters. He holds a foolish ‘love test’, offering the largest share of his estate to the daughter that flatters him the most, bringing tragic consequences to all.
The play is based on the legend of Leir of Britain, a mythological pre-Roman Celtic king, and was written between 1603 and 1606 and later revised. After the Restoration, the play was revised with a happy ending for audiences who disliked its dark and depressing tone, but since the 19th century Shakespeare’s original version has been judged as one of his greatest achievements. The tragedy is particularly noted for its probing observations on the nature of human suffering, as depicted in the portrayal of many of the play’s characters.
The 1608 Quarto
‘Cordelia in the Court of King Lear’ by Sir John Gilbert, 1873
‘King Lear and the Fool in the Storm’ by William Dyce, c. 1850
‘Lear and Cordelia’ by Ford Madox Brown, 1849
This play was taken from our Complete Works edition:
CONTENTS
Dramatis Personæ
Act I. Scene I.
Act I. Scene II.
Act I. Scene III.
Act I. Scene IV.
Act I. Scene V.
Act II. Scene I.
Act II. Scene II.
Act II. Scene III.
Act II. Scene IV.
Act III. Scene I.
Act III. Scene II.
Act III. Scene III.
Act III. Scene IV.
Act III. Scene V.
Act III. Scene VI.
Act III. Scene VII.
Act IV. Scene I.
Act IV. Scene II.
Act IV. Scene III.
Act IV. Scene VI.
Act IV. Scene V.
Act IV. Scene VI.
Act IV. Scene VII.
Act V. Scene I.
Act V. Scene II.
Act V. Scene III.
Akira Kurosawa’s famous 1985 adaptation
The 1999 TV interpretation
The Royal Shakespeare Company’s 2008 adaptation
Dramatis Personæ
LEAR, King of Britain.
KING OF FRANCE.
DUKE OF BURGUNDY.
DUKE OF CORNWALL.
DUKE OF ALBANY.
EARL OF KENT.
EARL OF GLOUCESTER.
EDGAR, Son to Gloucester.
EDMUND, Bastard Son to Gloucester.
CURAN, a Courtier.
OSWALD, Steward to Goneril.
Old Man, Tenant to Gloucester.
Doctor.
Fool.
An Officer, employed by Edmund.
A Gentleman, Attendant on Cordelia.
A Herald.
Servants to Cornwall.
GONERIL, REGAN, & CORDELIA: Daughters to Lear.
Knights of Lear’s Train, Officers, Messengers, Soldiers, and Attendants.
SCENE. — Britain.
Act I. Scene I.
A Room of State in KING LEAR’S Palace.
Enter KENT, GLOUCESTER, and EDMUND.
Kent. I thought the king had more affected the Duke of Albany than Cornwall.
Glo. It did always seem so to us; but now, in the division of the kingdom, it appears not which of the dukes he values most; for equalities are so weighed that curiosity in neither can make choice of either’s moiety.
Kent. Is not this your son, my lord? 5
Glo. His breeding, sir, hath been at my charge: I have so often blushed to acknowledge him, that now I am brazed to it.
Kent. I cannot conceive you.
Glo. Sir, this young fellow’s mother could; whereupon she grew round-wombed, and had, indeed, sir, a son for her cradle ere she had a husband for her bed. Do you smell a fault?
Kent. I cannot wish the fault undone, the issue of it being so proper.
Glo. But I have a son, sir, by order of law, some year elder than this, who yet is no dearer in my account: though this knave came somewhat saucily into the world before he was sent for, yet was his mother fair; there was good sport at his making, and the whoreson must be acknowledged. Do you know this noble gentleman, Edmund? 10
Edm. No, my lord.
Glo. My Lord of Kent: remember him hereafter as my honourable friend.
Edm. My services to your lordship.
Kent. I must love you, and sue to know you better.
Edm. Sir, I shall study deserving. 15
Glo. He hath been out nine years, and away he shall again. The king is coming.
Sennet. Enter LEAR, CORNWALL, ALBANY, GONERIL, REGAN, CORDELIA, and Attendants.
Lear. Attend the Lords of France and Burgundy, Gloucester.
Glo. I shall, my liege. [Exeunt GLOUCESTER and EDMUND.
Lear. Meantime we shall express our darker purpose. 20
Give me the map there. Know that we have divided
In three our kingdom; and ’tis our fast intent
To shake all cares and business from our age,
Conferring them on younger strengths, while we
Unburden’d crawl toward death. Our son of Cornwall, 25
And you, our no less loving son of Albay,
We have this hour a constant will to publish
Our daughtes’ several dowers, that future strife
May be prevented now. The princes, France and Burgundy,
Great rivals in our youngest daughter’s love, 30
Long in our court have made their amorous sojourn,
And here are to be answer’d. Tell me, my daughters, —
Since now we will divest us both of rule,
Interest of territory, cares of state, —
Which of you shall we say doth love us most? 35
That we our largest bounty may extend
Where nature doth with merit challenge. Goneril,
Our eldest-born, speak first.
Gon. Sir, I love you more than words can wield the matter;
Dearer than eye-sight, space, and liberty; 40
Beyond what can be valu’d, rich or rare;
No less than life, with grace, health, beauty, honour;
As much as child e’er lov’d, or father found;
A love that makes breath poor and speech unable;
Beyond all manner of so much I love you. 45
Cor. [Aside.] What shall Cordelia do? Love, and be silent.
Lear. Of all these bounds, even from this line to this,
With shadowy forests and with champains rich’d,
With plenteous rivers and wide-skirted meads,
We make thee lady: to thine and Albany�
��s issue 50
Be this perpetual. What says our second daughter,
Our dearest Regan, wife to Cornwall? Speak.
Reg. I am made of that self metal as my sister,
And prize me at her worth. In my true heart
I find she names my very deed of love; 55
Only she comes too short: that I profess
Myself an enemy to all other joys
Which the most precious square of sense possesses
And find I am alone felicitate
In your dear highness’ love. 60
Cor. [Aside.] Then, poor Cordelia!
And yet not so; since, I am sure, my love’s
More richer than my tongue.
Lear. To thee and thine, hereditary ever,
Remain this ample third of our fair kingdom, 65
No less in space, validity, and pleasure,
Than that conferr’d on Goneril. Now, our joy,
Although our last, not least; to whose young love
The vines of France and milk of Burgundy
Strive to be interess’d; what can you say to draw 70
A third more opulent than your sisters? Speak.
Cor. Nothing, my lord.
Lear. Nothing?
Cor. Nothing.
Lear. Nothing will come of nothing: speak again. 75
Cor. Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave
My heart into my mouth: I love your majesty
According to my bond; nor more nor less.
Lear. How, how, Cordelia! mend your speech a little,
Lest you may mar your fortunes. 80
Cor. Good my lord,
You have begot me, bred me, lov’d me: I
Return those duties back as are right fit,
Obey you, love you, and most honour you.
Why have my sisters husbands, if they say 85
They love you all? Haply, when I shall wed,
That lord whose hand must take my plight shall carry
Half my love with him, half my care and duty:
Sure I shall never marry like my sisters,
To love my father all. 90
Lear. But goes thy heart with this?
Cor. Ay, good my lord.
Lear. So young, and so untender?
Cor. So young, my lord, and true.
Lear. Let it be so; thy truth then be thy dower: 95
For, by the sacred radiance of the sun,
The mysteries of Hecate and the night,
By all the operation of the orbs
From whom we do exist and cease to be,
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