Original Text |
Translated Text |
| Source: Folger Shakespeare Library |
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Enter Gloucester and Edgar dressed as a peasant. GLOUCESTER
When shall I come to th’ top of that same hill? EDGAR
You do climb up it now. Look how we labor. GLOUCESTER
Methinks the ground is even. EDGAR Horrible steep.
Hark, do you hear the sea? 5 GLOUCESTER No, truly. EDGAR
Why then, your other senses grow imperfect
By your eyes’ anguish. | Edgar has thought of a sneaky way to deal with Gloucester's plan to commit suicide by jumping off the cliffs of Dover. He tells blind Gloucester that they are hiking up the cliffs of Dover, when they're actually walking across a level surface. Edgar tells Gloucester he can't hear the sea or detect the slope because his other senses are failing in response to the loss of his eyes. |
GLOUCESTER So may it be indeed.
Methinks thy voice is altered and thou speak’st 10
In better phrase and matter than thou didst. EDGAR
You’re much deceived; in nothing am I changed
But in my garments. GLOUCESTER Methinks you’re better spoken. EDGAR
Come on, sir. Here’s the place. Stand still. How 15
fearful
And dizzy ’tis to cast one’s eyes so low!
The crows and choughs that wing the midway air
Show scarce so gross as beetles. Halfway down
Hangs one that gathers samphire—dreadful trade; 20
Methinks he seems no bigger than his head.
The fishermen that walk upon the beach
Appear like mice, and yond tall anchoring bark
Diminished to her cock, her cock a buoy
Almost too small for sight. The murmuring surge 25
That on th’ unnumbered idle pebble chafes
Cannot be heard so high. I’ll look no more
Lest my brain turn and the deficient sight
Topple down headlong. GLOUCESTER Set me where you stand. 30 EDGAR
Give me your hand. You are now within a foot
Of th’ extreme verge. For all beneath the moon
Would I not leap upright. | Edgar stops and tells Gloucester they're at the edge of the cliff and then describes the view of the sea below in vivid and completely false detail. |
GLOUCESTER Let go my hand.
Here, friend, ’s another purse; in it a jewel 35
Well worth a poor man’s taking. Fairies and gods
Prosper it with thee. He gives Edgar a purse.
Go thou further off.
Bid me farewell, and let me hear thee going. EDGAR, walking away
Now fare you well, good sir. 40 GLOUCESTER With all my heart. EDGAR, aside
Why I do trifle thus with his despair
Is done to cure it. GLOUCESTER O you mighty gods! He kneels.
This world I do renounce, and in your sights 45
Shake patiently my great affliction off.
If I could bear it longer, and not fall
To quarrel with your great opposeless wills,
My snuff and loathèd part of nature should
Burn itself out. If Edgar live, O, bless him!— 50
Now, fellow, fare thee well. He falls. | Gloucester pays off his son—who he thinks is a homeless madman—and tells him to go away. When he thinks he is alone, Gloucester calls on the gods to witness his misery, pleads for blessings on Edgar, and leaps—about two feet—only to fall flat on his face. |
EDGAR Gone, sir. Farewell.—
And yet I know not how conceit may rob
The treasury of life, when life itself
Yields to the theft. Had he been where he thought, 55
By this had thought been past. Alive or dead?—
Ho you, sir! Friend, hear you. Sir, speak.—
Thus might he pass indeed. Yet he revives.—
What are you, sir? | Edgar hurries over, worried that his father might have died from the shock of the fall, even though he only plummeted about two feet. |
GLOUCESTER Away, and let me die. 60 EDGAR
Hadst thou been aught but gossamer, feathers, air,
So many fathom down precipitating,
Thou ’dst shivered like an egg; but thou dost
breathe,
Hast heavy substance, bleed’st not, speak’st, art 65
sound.
Ten masts at each make not the altitude
Which thou hast perpendicularly fell.
Thy life’s a miracle. Speak yet again. GLOUCESTER But have I fall’n or no? 70 EDGAR
From the dread summit of this chalky bourn.
Look up a-height. The shrill-gorged lark so far
Cannot be seen or heard. Do but look up. GLOUCESTER Alack, I have no eyes.
Is wretchedness deprived that benefit 75
To end itself by death? ’Twas yet some comfort
When misery could beguile the tyrant’s rage
And frustrate his proud will. EDGAR Give me your arm. He raises Gloucester. Up. So, how is ’t? Feel you your legs? You stand. 80 GLOUCESTER
Too well, too well. | Gloucester is alive, and can't tell if he's actually fallen off a cliff or not. Edgar puts on a different accent (pretending to be a different man) and tells Gloucester that he saw him fall from the top of the massive cliff—and somehow survive. "It's a miracle!" Edgar tells him. |
EDGAR This is above all strangeness.
Upon the crown o’ th’ cliff, what thing was that
Which parted from you? GLOUCESTER A poor unfortunate beggar. 85 EDGAR
As I stood here below, methought his eyes
Were two full moons; he had a thousand noses,
Horns whelked and waved like the enragèd sea.
It was some fiend. Therefore, thou happy father,
Think that the clearest gods, who make them 90
honors
Of men’s impossibilities, have preserved thee. GLOUCESTER
I do remember now. Henceforth I’ll bear
Affliction till it do cry out itself
“Enough, enough!” and die. That thing you speak of, 95
I took it for a man. Often ’twould say
“The fiend, the fiend!” He led me to that place. | Edgar wants Gloucester to believe that the gods themselves preserved him so that he'll stop considering suicide. This new guy-at-bottom-of-cliff (Edgar) asks after what manner of creature led Gloucester to the cliff's edge, and then describes a monstrous creature that could only have been a demon. Thus he concludes that Poor Tom must have been a devil trying to lead Gloucester astray. (We can't decide if Edgar's behavior is loving and loyal or completely sadistic. What do you think?) Gloucester promises to trust in the gods and not try to take his life again, because it's a sin. |
EDGAR
Bear free and patient thoughts. Enter Lear. But who comes here?
The safer sense will ne’er accommodate 100
His master thus. LEAR No, they cannot touch me for coining. I am the
King himself. EDGAR O, thou side-piercing sight! LEAR Nature’s above art in that respect. There’s your 105
press-money. That fellow handles his bow like a
crowkeeper. Draw me a clothier’s yard. Look, look,
a mouse! Peace, peace! This piece of toasted cheese
will do ’t. There’s my gauntlet; I’ll prove it on a
giant. Bring up the brown bills. O, well flown, bird! 110
I’ th’ clout, i’ th’ clout! Hewgh! Give the word. EDGAR Sweet marjoram. LEAR Pass. GLOUCESTER I know that voice. LEAR Ha! Goneril with a white beard? They flattered 115
me like a dog and told me I had the white hairs in
my beard ere the black ones were there. To say “ay”
and “no” to everything that I said “ay” and “no” to
was no good divinity. When the rain came to wet me
once and the wind to make me chatter, when the 120
thunder would not peace at my bidding, there I
found ’em, there I smelt ’em out. Go to. They are
not men o’ their words; they told me I was everything.
’Tis a lie. I am not ague-proof. | Now Lear, still totally nuts, wanders in. Instead of a crown, he's wearing a wreath of weeds and wildflowers. (Yep, that's symbolic of Lear's mental deterioration alright, so check out "Symbols" if you're interested in our take on this. Lear keeps up a constant patter of talk—some of it totally crazy, some of it bitter and insightful. As well as trying to feed a mouse a piece of cheese, he demands a password from Edgar. When Edgar exclaims "Sweet marjoram," which is kind of like "Holy cow," Lear says, "That's it!" Then Lear rants about power and its abuses. Now that he's no longer in charge, Lear realizes that his authority was just image and spin—none of it was real. |
GLOUCESTER
The trick of that voice I do well remember. 125
Is ’t not the King? LEAR Ay, every inch a king.
When I do stare, see how the subject quakes.
I pardon that man’s life. What was thy cause?
Adultery? Thou shalt not die. Die for adultery? No. 130
The wren goes to ’t, and the small gilded fly does
lecher in my sight. Let copulation thrive, for
Gloucester’s bastard son was kinder to his father
than my daughters got ’tween the lawful sheets. To
’t, luxury, pell-mell, for I lack soldiers. Behold yond 135
simp’ring dame, whose face between her forks
presages snow, that minces virtue and does shake
the head to hear of pleasure’s name. The fitchew
nor the soiled horse goes to ’t with a more riotous
appetite. Down from the waist they are centaurs, 140
though women all above. But to the girdle do the
gods inherit; beneath is all the fiend’s. There’s hell,
there’s darkness, there is the sulphurous pit; burning,
scalding, stench, consumption! Fie, fie, fie, pah,
pah! Give me an ounce of civet, good apothecary; 145
sweeten my imagination. There’s money for thee. | Gloucester recognizes Lear's voice and asks if it's the King he hears. Lear answers him with a rant about sex and how there should be more of it in the world, especially considering that Gloucester's son Edmund, conceived out of wedlock, proved much kinder than Lear's daughters, who were conceived legitimately. (He's a little behind on his facts, but hey—he's mad, what do you expect?) He goes on to say that women often appear virtuous, but from the waist down they do the Devil's work. |
GLOUCESTER O, let me kiss that hand! LEAR Let me wipe it first; it smells of mortality. GLOUCESTER
O ruined piece of nature! This great world
Shall so wear out to naught. Dost thou know me? 150 LEAR I remember thine eyes well enough. Dost thou
squinny at me? No, do thy worst, blind Cupid, I’ll
not love. Read thou this challenge. Mark but the
penning of it. GLOUCESTER
Were all thy letters suns, I could not see. 155 EDGAR, aside
I would not take this from report. It is,
And my heart breaks at it. | Gloucester asks Lear if he recognizes him and Lear says his eyes are familiar. (Ouch.) He then addresses Gloucester as Cupid, who was often presented as blind. Edgar and Gloucester are both horrified at Lear's transformation, and Edgar says he wouldn't believe Lear had gotten this bad if he weren't witnessing it for himself. |
LEAR Read. GLOUCESTER What, with the case of eyes? LEAR O ho, are you there with me? No eyes in your 160
head, nor no money in your purse? Your eyes are in
a heavy case, your purse in a light, yet you see how
this world goes. GLOUCESTER I see it feelingly. LEAR What, art mad? A man may see how this world 165
goes with no eyes. Look with thine ears. See how
yond justice rails upon yond simple thief. Hark in
thine ear. Change places and, handy-dandy, which
is the justice, which is the thief? Thou hast seen a
farmer’s dog bark at a beggar? 170 GLOUCESTER Ay, sir. LEAR And the creature run from the cur? There thou
might’st behold the great image of authority: a
dog’s obeyed in office.
Thou rascal beadle, hold thy bloody hand! 175
Why dost thou lash that whore? Strip thy own back.
Thou hotly lusts to use her in that kind
For which thou whipp’st her. The usurer hangs the
cozener.
Through tattered clothes small vices do appear. 180
Robes and furred gowns hide all. Plate sin with
gold,
And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks.
Arm it in rags, a pygmy’s straw does pierce it.
None does offend, none, I say, none; I’ll able ’em. 185
Take that of me, my friend, who have the power
To seal th’ accuser’s lips. Get thee glass eyes,
And like a scurvy politician
Seem to see the things thou dost not. Now, now,
now, now. 190
Pull off my boots. Harder, harder. So. EDGAR, aside
O, matter and impertinency mixed,
Reason in madness! | Lear rants that justice is a sham and you don't need eyes to see that. He says there's no real difference between the thief and the judge who sentences him, or between the prostitute and the officer who whips a prostitute's back for her crimes, when really he'd like to commit those crimes with her. |
LEAR
If thou wilt weep my fortunes, take my eyes.
I know thee well enough; thy name is Gloucester. 195
Thou must be patient. We came crying hither;
Thou know’st the first time that we smell the air
We wawl and cry. I will preach to thee. Mark. GLOUCESTER Alack, alack the day! LEAR
When we are born, we cry that we are come 200
To this great stage of fools.—This’ a good block.
It were a delicate stratagem to shoe
A troop of horse with felt. I’ll put ’t in proof,
And when I have stol’n upon these son-in-laws,
Then kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill! 205 | Gloucester starts sobbing, and his grief brings Lear back to his senses for a minute. He tells Gloucester of course he recognizes him and says it's natural to cry when you see the world for the first time, like a newborn. (The idea is that babies cry when they're born, and men cry again later when they realize the truth of the world.) Then Lear slips back to crazy town, telling Gloucester he likes his hat ("good block,") and that if he made horseshoes for his horses out of the same felt used in Gloucester's hat, he'd be able to sneak up on his sons-in-law and kill them. |
Enter a Gentleman and Attendants. GENTLEMAN, noticing Lear
O, here he is. To an Attendant. Lay hand upon
him.—Sir,
Your most dear daughter— | A Gentleman arrives and tells one of his attendants to take hold of Lear. They say they've come from his daughter, but it's not immediately clear which one. |
LEAR
No rescue? What, a prisoner? I am even
The natural fool of Fortune. Use me well. 210
You shall have ransom. Let me have surgeons;
I am cut to th’ brains. GENTLEMAN You shall have anything. LEAR No seconds? All myself?
Why, this would make a man a man of salt, 215
To use his eyes for garden waterpots,
Ay, and laying autumn’s dust.
I will die bravely like a smug bridegroom. What?
I will be jovial. Come, come, I am a king,
Masters, know you that? 220 GENTLEMAN
You are a royal one, and we obey you. LEAR Then there’s life in ’t. Come, an you get it, you
shall get it by running. Sa, sa, sa, sa. The King exits running pursued by Attendants. GENTLEMAN
A sight most pitiful in the meanest wretch,
Past speaking of in a king. Thou hast a daughter 225
Who redeems nature from the general curse
Which twain have brought her to. EDGAR Hail, gentle sir. GENTLEMAN Sir, speed you. What’s your will? EDGAR
Do you hear aught, sir, of a battle toward? 230 GENTLEMAN
Most sure and vulgar. Everyone hears that,
Which can distinguish sound. EDGAR But, by your favor,
How near’s the other army? GENTLEMAN
Near and on speedy foot. The main descry 235
Stands on the hourly thought. EDGAR I thank you, sir. That’s all. GENTLEMAN
Though that the Queen on special cause is here,
Her army is moved on. EDGAR I thank you, sir. 240 Gentleman exits. | Lear seems to calmly accept that he is a prisoner—but then dashes away like a five-year-old, calling back to the soldiers something along the lines of "You'll have to catch me first!" The soldiers, who turn out to be sent by Cordelia, chase after the crazy old man, and the Gentleman updates Edgar on the movements of France's (Cordelia the Queen's) army. |
GLOUCESTER
You ever-gentle gods, take my breath from me;
Let not my worser spirit tempt me again
To die before you please. EDGAR Well pray you, father. GLOUCESTER Now, good sir, what are you? 245 EDGAR
A most poor man, made tame to Fortune’s blows,
Who, by the art of known and feeling sorrows,
Am pregnant to good pity. Give me your hand;
I’ll lead you to some biding. He takes Gloucester’s hand. GLOUCESTER Hearty thanks. 250
The bounty and the benison of heaven
To boot, and boot. Enter Oswald, the Steward. OSWALD, drawing his sword
A proclaimed prize! Most happy!
That eyeless head of thine was first framed flesh
To raise my fortunes. Thou old unhappy traitor, 255
Briefly thyself remember; the sword is out
That must destroy thee. GLOUCESTER Now let thy friendly hand
Put strength enough to ’t. | Edgar and Gloucester are alone again until Oswald shows up, determined to kill Gloucester and get his reward. |
Edgar steps between Gloucester and Oswald. OSWALD Wherefore, bold peasant, 260
Dar’st thou support a published traitor? Hence,
Lest that th’ infection of his fortune take
Like hold on thee. Let go his arm. EDGAR Chill not let go, zir, without vurther ’casion. OSWALD Let go, slave, or thou diest! 265 EDGAR Good gentleman, go your gait, and let poor
volk pass. An ’chud ha’ bin zwaggered out of my
life, ’twould not ha’ bin zo long as ’tis by a vortnight.
Nay, come not near th’ old man. Keep out,
che vor’ ye, or Ise try whether your costard or my 270
ballow be the harder. Chill be plain with you. OSWALD Out, dunghill. EDGAR Chill pick your teeth, zir. Come, no matter vor
your foins. They fight. OSWALD, falling
Slave, thou hast slain me. Villain, take my purse. 275
If ever thou wilt thrive, bury my body,
And give the letters which thou find’st about me
To Edmund, Earl of Gloucester. Seek him out
Upon the English party. O, untimely death! Death! He dies. | Edgar steps between Oswald and Gloucester and puts on an intense peasant's accent so that Oswald won't recognize him. When Oswald tries to attack Gloucester, Edgar fights him off and kills him. As Oswald dies, he asks Edgar to deliver the letters he's carrying to Edmund. |
| Edgar looks for the letters Oswald mentioned, thinking there may be information in them that's important to him, though he feels a little sneaky about doing it. The letter he finds is the one from Goneril to Edmund, asking Edmund to kill her husband so they can be together. This is the first time Edgar realizes that his brother is actually a bad guy. |
GLOUCESTER
The King is mad. How stiff is my vile sense
That I stand up and have ingenious feeling
Of my huge sorrows! Better I were distract. 310
So should my thoughts be severed from my griefs,
And woes, by wrong imaginations, lose
The knowledge of themselves. Drum afar off. EDGAR Give me your hand.
Far off methinks I hear the beaten drum. 315
Come, father, I’ll bestow you with a friend. They exit. | Edgar, armed with Goneril's letter which he thinks will come in handy, promises to bring Gloucester to someone who will be his friend. |