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полная версияThe Tragedy of King Lear

Уильям Шекспир
The Tragedy of King Lear

Полная версия

Scene VI. The country near Dover

Enter Gloucester, and Edgar [like a Peasant].

 
  Glou. When shall I come to th' top of that same hill?
  Edg. You do climb up it now. Look how we labour.
  Glou. Methinks the ground is even.
  Edg. Horrible steep.
     Hark, do you hear the sea?
  Glou. No, truly.
  Edg. Why, then, your other senses grow imperfect
     By your eyes' anguish.
  Glou. So may it be indeed.
     Methinks thy voice is alter'd, and thou speak'st
     In better phrase and matter than thou didst.
  Edg. Y'are much deceiv'd. In nothing am I chang'd
     But in my garments.
  Glou. Methinks y'are better spoken.
  Edg. Come on, sir; here's the place. Stand still. How 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 sampire- dreadful trade!
     Methinks he seems no bigger than his head.
     The fishermen that walk upon the beach
     Appear like mice; and yond tall anchoring bark,
     Diminish'd to her cock; her cock, a buoy
     Almost too small for sight. The murmuring surge
     That on th' unnumb'red idle pebble chafes
     Cannot be heard so high. I'll look no more,
     Lest my brain turn, and the deficient sight
     Topple down headlong.
  Glou. Set me where you stand.
  Edg. Give me your hand. You are now within a foot
     Of th' extreme verge. For all beneath the moon
     Would I not leap upright.
  Glou. Let go my hand.
     Here, friend, is another purse; in it a jewel
     Well worth a poor man's taking. Fairies and gods
     Prosper it with thee! Go thou further off;
     Bid me farewell, and let me hear thee going.
  Edg. Now fare ye well, good sir.
  Glou. With all my heart.
  Edg. [aside]. Why I do trifle thus with his despair
     Is done to cure it.
  Glou. O you mighty gods! He kneels.
     This world I do renounce, and, in your sights,
     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 loathed part of nature should
     Burn itself out. If Edgar live, O, bless him!
     Now, fellow, fare thee well.
                                  He falls [forward and swoons].
  Edg. 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,
     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?
  Glou. Away, and let me die.
  Edg. Hadst thou been aught but gossamer, feathers, air,
     So many fadom down precipitating,
     Thou'dst shiver'd like an egg; but thou dost breathe;
     Hast heavy substance; bleed'st not; speak'st; art sound.
     Ten masts at each make not the altitude
     Which thou hast perpendicularly fell.
     Thy life is a miracle. Speak yet again.
  Glou. But have I fall'n, or no?
  Edg. From the dread summit of this chalky bourn.
     Look up a-height. The shrill-gorg'd lark so far
     Cannot be seen or heard. Do but look up.
  Glou. Alack, I have no eyes!
     Is wretchedness depriv'd that benefit
     To end itself by death? 'Twas yet some comfort
     When misery could beguile the tyrant's rage
     And frustrate his proud will.
  Edg. Give me your arm.
     Up- so. How is't? Feel you your legs? You stand.
  Glou. Too well, too well.
  Edg. This is above all strangeness.
     Upon the crown o' th' cliff what thing was that
     Which parted from you?
  Glou. A poor unfortunate beggar.
  Edg. As I stood here below, methought his eyes
     Were two full moons; he had a thousand noses,
     Horns whelk'd and wav'd like the enridged sea.
     It was some fiend. Therefore, thou happy father,
     Think that the clearest gods, who make them honours
     Of men's impossibility, have preserv'd thee.
  Glou. I do remember now. Henceforth I'll bear
     Affliction till it do cry out itself
     'Enough, enough,' and die. That thing you speak of,
     I took it for a man. Often 'twould say
     'The fiend, the fiend'– he led me to that place.
  Edg. Bear free and patient thoughts.
 

Enter Lear, mad, [fantastically dressed with weeds].

 
     But who comes here?
     The safer sense will ne'er accommodate
     His master thus.
  Lear. No, they cannot touch me for coming;
     I am the King himself.
  Edg. O thou side-piercing sight!
  Lear. Nature 's above art in that respect. There's your press
     money. That fellow handles his bow like a crow-keeper. 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!
i'
     th' clout, i' th' clout! Hewgh! Give the word.
  Edg. Sweet marjoram.
  Lear. Pass.
  Glou. I know that voice.
  Lear. Ha! Goneril with a white beard? They flatter'd me like a
dog,
     and told me I had white hairs in my beard ere the black ones
     were there. To say 'ay' and 'no' to everything I said! 'Ay'
and
     'no' too was no good divinity. When the rain came to wet me
     once, and the wind to make me chatter; when the 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.
  Glou. The trick of that voice I do well remember.
     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.
     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 simp'ring dame,
     Whose face between her forks presageth 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,
     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's the sulphurous pit;
     burning, scalding, stench, consumption. Fie, fie, fie! pah,
pah!
     Give me an ounce of civet, good apothecary, to sweeten my
     imagination. There's money for thee.
  Glou. O, let me kiss that hand!
  Lear. Let me wipe it first; it smells of mortality.
  Glou. O ruin'd piece of nature! This great world
     Shall so wear out to naught. Dost thou know me?
  Lear. I remember thine eyes well enough. Dost thou squiny at
me?
     No, do thy worst, blind Cupid! I'll not love. Read thou this
     challenge; mark but the penning of it.
  Glou. Were all the letters suns, I could not see one.
  Edg. [aside] I would not take this from report. It is,
     And my heart breaks at it.
  Lear. Read.
  Glou. What, with the case of eyes?
  Lear. O, ho, are you there with me? No eyes in your 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.
  Glou. I see it feelingly.
  Lear. What, art mad? A man may see how the world 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?
  Glou. Ay, sir.
  Lear. And the creature run from the cur? There thou mightst
behold
     the great image of authority: a dog's obeyed in office.
     Thou rascal beadle, hold thy bloody hand!
     Why dost thou lash that whore? Strip thine own back.
     Thou hotly lusts to use her in that kind
     For which thou whip'st her. The usurer hangs the cozener.
     Through tatter'd clothes small vices do appear;
     Robes and furr'd 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.
     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!
     Pull off my boots. Harder, harder! So.
  Edg. O, matter and impertinency mix'd!
     Reason, in madness!
  Lear. If thou wilt weep my fortunes, take my eyes.
     I know thee well enough; thy name is Gloucester.
     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.
  Glou. Alack, alack the day!
  Lear. When we are born, we cry that we are come
     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 sons-in-law,
     Then kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill!
 

Enter a Gentleman [with Attendants].

 
 
  Gent. O, here he is! Lay hand upon him. – Sir,
     Your most dear daughter-
  Lear. No rescue? What, a prisoner? I am even
     The natural fool of fortune. Use me well;
     You shall have ransom. Let me have a surgeon;
     I am cut to th' brains.
  Gent. You shall have anything.
  Lear. No seconds? All myself?
     Why, this would make a man a man of salt,
     To use his eyes for garden waterpots,
     Ay, and laying autumn's dust.
  Gent. Good sir-
  Lear. I will die bravely, like a smug bridegroom. What!
     I will be jovial. Come, come, I am a king;
     My masters, know you that?
  Gent. You are a royal one, and we obey you.
  Lear. Then there's life in't. Nay, an you get it, you shall get
it
     by running. Sa, sa, sa, sa!
                              Exit running. [Attendants follow.]
  Gent. A sight most pitiful in the meanest wretch,
     Past speaking of in a king! Thou hast one daughter
     Who redeems nature from the general curse
     Which twain have brought her to.
  Edg. Hail, gentle sir.
  Gent. Sir, speed you. What's your will?
  Edg. Do you hear aught, sir, of a battle toward?
  Gent. Most sure and vulgar. Every one hears that
     Which can distinguish sound.
  Edg. But, by your favour,
     How near's the other army?
  Gent. Near and on speedy foot. The main descry
     Stands on the hourly thought.
  Edg. I thank you sir. That's all.
  Gent. Though that the Queen on special cause is here,
     Her army is mov'd on.
  Edg. I thank you, sir
                                               Exit [Gentleman].
  Glou. You ever-gentle gods, take my breath from me;
     Let not my worser spirit tempt me again
     To die before you please!
  Edg. Well pray you, father.
  Glou. Now, good sir, what are you?
  Edg. 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.
  Glou. Hearty thanks.
     The bounty and the benison of heaven
     To boot, and boot!
 

Enter [Oswald the] Steward.

 
  Osw. A proclaim'd prize! Most happy!
     That eyeless head of thine was first fram'd flesh
     To raise my fortunes. Thou old unhappy traitor,
     Briefly thyself remember. The sword is out
     That must destroy thee.
  Glou. Now let thy friendly hand
     Put strength enough to't.
                                             [Edgar interposes.]
  Osw. Wherefore, bold peasant,
     Dar'st thou support a publish'd traitor? Hence!
     Lest that th' infection of his fortune take
     Like hold on thee. Let go his arm.
  Edg. Chill not let go, zir, without vurther 'cagion.
  Osw. Let go, slave, or thou diest!
  Edg. Good gentleman, go your gait, and let poor voke pass. An
chud
     ha' bin zwagger'd 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 vore ye, or Ise try whether your costard or my ballow be
the
     harder. Chill be plain with you.
  Osw. Out, dunghill!
                                                     They fight.
  Edg. Chill pick your teeth, zir. Come! No matter vor your
foins.
                                                 [Oswald falls.]
  Osw. Slave, thou hast slain me. Villain, take my purse.
     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 British party. O, untimely death! Death!
                                                        He dies.
  Edg. I know thee well. A serviceable villain,
     As duteous to the vices of thy mistress
     As badness would desire.
  Glou. What, is he dead?
  Edg. Sit you down, father; rest you.
     Let's see his pockets; these letters that he speaks of
     May be my friends. He's dead. I am only sorry
     He had no other deathsman. Let us see.
     Leave, gentle wax; and, manners, blame us not.
     To know our enemies' minds, we'ld rip their hearts;
     Their papers, is more lawful. Reads the letter.
 
 
       'Let our reciprocal vows be rememb'red. You have many
     opportunities to cut him off. If your will want not, time
and
     place will be fruitfully offer'd. There is nothing done, if
he
     return the conqueror. Then am I the prisoner, and his bed my
     jail; from the loathed warmth whereof deliver me, and supply
the
     place for your labour.
           'Your (wife, so I would say) affectionate servant,
'Goneril.'
 
 
     O indistinguish'd space of woman's will!
     A plot upon her virtuous husband's life,
     And the exchange my brother! Here in the sands
     Thee I'll rake up, the post unsanctified
     Of murtherous lechers; and in the mature time
     With this ungracious paper strike the sight
     Of the death-practis'd Duke, For him 'tis well
     That of thy death and business I can tell.
  Glou. 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.
     So should my thoughts be sever'd from my griefs,
     And woes by wrong imaginations lose
     The knowledge of themselves.
                                                A drum afar off.
  Edg. Give me your hand.
     Far off methinks I hear the beaten drum.
     Come, father, I'll bestow you with a friend. Exeunt.
 

Scene VII. A tent in the French camp

Enter Cordelia, Kent, Doctor, and Gentleman.

 
  Cor. O thou good Kent, how shall I live and work
     To match thy goodness? My life will be too short
     And every measure fail me.
  Kent. To be acknowledg'd, madam, is o'erpaid.
     All my reports go with the modest truth;
     Nor more nor clipp'd, but so.
  Cor. Be better suited.
     These weeds are memories of those worser hours.
     I prithee put them off.
  Kent. Pardon, dear madam.
     Yet to be known shortens my made intent.
     My boon I make it that you know me not
     Till time and I think meet.
  Cor. Then be't so, my good lord. [To the Doctor] How, does the
King?
  Doct. Madam, sleeps still.
  Cor. O you kind gods,
     Cure this great breach in his abused nature!
     Th' untun'd and jarring senses, O, wind up
     Of this child-changed father!
  Doct. So please your Majesty
     That we may wake the King? He hath slept long.
  Cor. Be govern'd by your knowledge, and proceed
     I' th' sway of your own will. Is he array'd?
 

Enter Lear in a chair carried by Servants.

 
  Gent. Ay, madam. In the heaviness of sleep
     We put fresh garments on him.
  Doct. Be by, good madam, when we do awake him.
     I doubt not of his temperance.
  Cor. Very well.
 
Music
 
  Doct. Please you draw near. Louder the music there!
  Cor. O my dear father, restoration hang
     Thy medicine on my lips, and let this kiss
     Repair those violent harms that my two sisters
     Have in thy reverence made!
  Kent. Kind and dear princess!
  Cor. Had you not been their father, these white flakes
     Had challeng'd pity of them. Was this a face
     To be oppos'd against the warring winds?
     To stand against the deep dread-bolted thunder?
     In the most terrible and nimble stroke
     Of quick cross lightning? to watch- poor perdu! -
     With this thin helm? Mine enemy's dog,
     Though he had bit me, should have stood that night
     Against my fire; and wast thou fain, poor father,
     To hovel thee with swine and rogues forlorn,
     In short and musty straw? Alack, alack!
     'Tis wonder that thy life and wits at once
     Had not concluded all. – He wakes. Speak to him.
  Doct. Madam, do you; 'tis fittest.
  Cor. How does my royal lord? How fares your Majesty?
  Lear. You do me wrong to take me out o' th' grave.
     Thou art a soul in bliss; but I am bound
     Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears
     Do scald like molten lead.
  Cor. Sir, do you know me?
  Lear. You are a spirit, I know. When did you die?
  Cor. Still, still, far wide!
  Doct. He's scarce awake. Let him alone awhile.
  Lear. Where have I been? Where am I? Fair daylight,
     I am mightily abus'd. I should e'en die with pity,
     To see another thus. I know not what to say.
     I will not swear these are my hands. Let's see.
     I feel this pin prick. Would I were assur'd
     Of my condition!
  Cor. O, look upon me, sir,
     And hold your hands in benediction o'er me.
     No, sir, you must not kneel.
  Lear. Pray, do not mock me.
     I am a very foolish fond old man,
     Fourscore and upward, not an hour more nor less;
     And, to deal plainly,
     I fear I am not in my perfect mind.
     Methinks I should know you, and know this man;
     Yet I am doubtful; for I am mainly ignorant
     What place this is; and all the skill I have
     Remembers not these garments; nor I know not
     Where I did lodge last night. Do not laugh at me;
     For (as I am a man) I think this lady
     To be my child Cordelia.
  Cor. And so I am! I am!
  Lear. Be your tears wet? Yes, faith. I pray weep not.
     If you have poison for me, I will drink it.
     I know you do not love me; for your sisters
     Have, as I do remember, done me wrong.
     You have some cause, they have not.
  Cor. No cause, no cause.
  Lear. Am I in France?
  Kent. In your own kingdom, sir.
  Lear. Do not abuse me.
  Doct. Be comforted, good madam. The great rage
     You see is kill'd in him; and yet it is danger
     To make him even o'er the time he has lost.
     Desire him to go in. Trouble him no more
     Till further settling.
  Cor. Will't please your Highness walk?
  Lear. You must bear with me.
     Pray you now, forget and forgive. I am old and foolish.
                              Exeunt. Manent Kent and Gentleman.
  Gent. Holds it true, sir, that the Duke of Cornwall was so
slain?
  Kent. Most certain, sir.
  Gent. Who is conductor of his people?
  Kent. As 'tis said, the bastard son of Gloucester.
  Gent. They say Edgar, his banish'd son, is with the Earl of
Kent
     in Germany.
  Kent. Report is changeable. 'Tis time to look about; the powers
of
     the kingdom approach apace.
  Gent. The arbitrement is like to be bloody.
     Fare you well, sir. [Exit.]
  Kent. My point and period will be throughly wrought,
     Or well or ill, as this day's battle's fought. Exit.
 

ACT V. Scene I. The British camp near Dover

Enter, with Drum and Colours, Edmund, Regan, Gentleman, and Soldiers.

 
  Edm. Know of the Duke if his last purpose hold,
     Or whether since he is advis'd by aught
     To change the course. He's full of alteration
     And self-reproving. Bring his constant pleasure.
                                              [Exit an Officer.]
  Reg. Our sister's man is certainly miscarried.
  Edm. Tis to be doubted, madam.
  Reg. Now, sweet lord,
     You know the goodness I intend upon you.
     Tell me- but truly- but then speak the truth-
     Do you not love my sister?
  Edm. In honour'd love.
  Reg. But have you never found my brother's way
     To the forfended place?
  Edm. That thought abuses you.
  Reg. I am doubtful that you have been conjunct
     And bosom'd with her, as far as we call hers.
  Edm. No, by mine honour, madam.
  Reg. I never shall endure her. Dear my lord,
     Be not familiar with her.
  Edm. Fear me not.
     She and the Duke her husband!
 

Enter, with Drum and Colours, Albany, Goneril, Soldiers.

 
 
  Gon. [aside] I had rather lose the battle than that sister
     Should loosen him and me.
  Alb. Our very loving sister, well bemet.
     Sir, this I hear: the King is come to his daughter,
     With others whom the rigour of our state
     Forc'd to cry out. Where I could not be honest,
     I never yet was valiant. For this business,
     It toucheth us as France invades our land,
     Not bolds the King, with others whom, I fear,
     Most just and heavy causes make oppose.
  Edm. Sir, you speak nobly.
  Reg. Why is this reason'd?
  Gon. Combine together 'gainst the enemy;
     For these domestic and particular broils
     Are not the question here.
  Alb. Let's then determine
     With th' ancient of war on our proceeding.
  Edm. I shall attend you presently at your tent.
  Reg. Sister, you'll go with us?
  Gon. No.
  Reg. 'Tis most convenient. Pray you go with us.
  Gon. [aside] O, ho, I know the riddle. – I will go.
 

[As they are going out,] enter Edgar [disguised].

 
  Edg. If e'er your Grace had speech with man so poor,
     Hear me one word.
  Alb. I'll overtake you. – Speak.
                              Exeunt [all but Albany and Edgar].
  Edg. Before you fight the battle, ope this letter.
     If you have victory, let the trumpet sound
     For him that brought it. Wretched though I seem,
     I can produce a champion that will prove
     What is avouched there. If you miscarry,
     Your business of the world hath so an end,
     And machination ceases. Fortune love you!
  Alb. Stay till I have read the letter.
  Edg. I was forbid it.
     When time shall serve, let but the herald cry,
     And I'll appear again.
  Alb. Why, fare thee well. I will o'erlook thy paper.
                                                   Exit [Edgar].
 

Enter Edmund.

 
  Edm. The enemy 's in view; draw up your powers.
     Here is the guess of their true strength and forces
     By diligent discovery; but your haste
     Is now urg'd on you.
  Alb. We will greet the time. Exit.
  Edm. To both these sisters have I sworn my love;
     Each jealous of the other, as the stung
     Are of the adder. Which of them shall I take?
     Both? one? or neither? Neither can be enjoy'd,
     If both remain alive. To take the widow
     Exasperates, makes mad her sister Goneril;
     And hardly shall I carry out my side,
     Her husband being alive. Now then, we'll use
     His countenance for the battle, which being done,
     Let her who would be rid of him devise
     His speedy taking off. As for the mercy
     Which he intends to Lear and to Cordelia-
     The battle done, and they within our power,
     Shall never see his pardon; for my state
     Stands on me to defend, not to debate. Exit.
 
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