The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (924 page)

The King is very angry.

CORNWALL

Whither is he going?

Where's he going?

GLOUCESTER

He calls to horse; but will I know not whither.

He's called for his horses, but I don't know where he means to go.

CORNWALL

'Tis best to give him way; he leads himself.

Let him go where he wants, he always wants his own way.

GONERIL

My lord, entreat him by no means to stay.

My lord, on no account are you to beg him to stay.

GLOUCESTER

Alack, the night comes on, and the bleak winds

Do sorely ruffle; for many miles a bout

There's scarce a bush.

Alas, night is falling, and the harsh winds

are blowing strong; there is no shelter

for many miles around.

REGAN

O, sir, to wilful men,

The injuries that they themselves procure

Must be their schoolmasters. Shut up your doors:

He is attended with a desperate train;

And what they may incense him to, being apt

To have his ear abused, wisdom bids fear.

Oh, sir, obstinate men

have to learn from the injuries they inflict

on themselves. Close your doors:

his men are desperate;

it would be wise to be cautious about

what they might incite him to do,

as he is so used to them leading him astray.

CORNWALL

Shut up your doors, my lord; 'tis a wild night:

My Regan counsels well; come out o' the storm.

Exeunt

Close your doors, my lord; it's a wild night:

my Regan gives good advice; come out of the storm.

Storm still. Enter KENT and a Gentleman, meeting

KENT

Who's there, besides foul weather?

Who's there, besides the foul weather?

Gentleman

One minded like the weather, most unquietly.

Someone who is feeling like the weather, very unsettled.

KENT

I know you. Where's the king?

I know you. Where's the King?

Gentleman

Contending with the fretful element:

Bids the winds blow the earth into the sea,

Or swell the curled water 'bove the main,

That things might change or cease; tears his white hair,

Which the impetuous blasts, with eyeless rage,

Catch in their fury, and make nothing of;

Strives in his little world of man to out-storm

The to-and-fro-conflicting wind and rain.

This night, wherein the cub-drawn bear would couch,

The lion and the belly-pinched wolf

Keep their fur dry, unbonneted he runs,

And bids what will take all.

Out battling with the weather:

he calls on the winds to blow the earth into the sea,

or blast the waves over the land,

so that things could change or end; he tears at his white hair,

which the harsh gusts, with invisible rage,

catch in their fury and show no respect for;

he is trying in his little world of a man

to out blow the swirling winds and rain.

This night, when a ravenous bear would stay home,

a lion and a starving wolf

would keep their fur dry, he runs about bareheaded

and shouts that the winner will take all.

KENT

But who is with him?

But who is with him?

Gentleman

None but the fool; who labours to out-jest

His heart-struck injuries.

Only the fool, who is trying to drive out

his heartfelt injuries with jokes.

KENT

Sir, I do know you;

And dare, upon the warrant of my note,

Commend a dear thing to you. There is division,

Although as yet the face of it be cover'd

With mutual cunning, 'twixt Albany and Cornwall;

Who have--as who have not, that their great stars

Throned and set high?--servants, who seem no less,

Which are to France the spies and speculations

Intelligent of our state; what hath been seen,

Either in snuffs and packings of the dukes,

Or the hard rein which both of them have borne

Against the old kind king; or something deeper,

Whereof perchance these are but furnishings;

But, true it is, from France there comes a power

Into this scatter'd kingdom; who already,

Wise in our negligence, have secret feet

In some of our best ports, and are at point

To show their open banner. Now to you:

If on my credit you dare build so far

To make your speed to Dover, you shall find

Some that will thank you, making just report

Of how unnatural and bemadding sorrow

The king hath cause to plain.

I am a gentleman of blood and breeding;

And, from some knowledge and assurance, offer

This office to you.

Sir, I know you;

and on the strength of that I dare

to trust you with something important. Although at the moment

it is covered up by their mutual cunning, there is

a split between Albany and Cornwall;

they have–as who hasn't, when they

get so high–servants, who seem innocent,

who are spies for France who give him

information about our country. What has been seen

either in the arguments and plots of the Dukes

or the hard line which both of them have taken

against the kind old King; or maybe something deeper,

of which these things are just the pretexts–

whatever it is it is certain that an army from France

is coming into this divided kingdom; already,

knowing of our negligence, they have gained a secret foothold

in some of our best ports, and are about

to come into the open. Now, as this relates to you:

if you trust me enough

to hurry to Dover, you will find

some who will thank you for making a true report

of how the King has reason to complain

of unnatural and maddening sorrows.

I am a gentleman of good blood and breeding,

and I ask you to do this knowing that I can promise

that what I say is true.

Gentleman

I will talk further with you.

I want to talk more with you.

KENT

No, do not.

For confirmation that I am much more

Than my out-wall, open this purse, and take

What it contains. If you shall see Cordelia,--

As fear not but you shall,--show her this ring;

And she will tell you who your fellow is

That yet you do not know. Fie on this storm!

I will go seek the king.

No, do not.

To show you that I am much more

than I appear, open this purse, and take out

the contents. If you see Cordelia–

as you certainly will–show her this ring;

she will tell you who your comrade is

that you don't know yet. Damn this storm!

I will go and find the King.

Gentleman

Give me your hand: have you no more to say?

Give me your hand: have you nothing else to say?

KENT

Few words, but, to effect, more than all yet;

That, when we have found the king,--in which your pain

That way, I'll this,--he that first lights on him

Holla the other.

Exeunt severally

Just a few words, but more important than all the others;

that when we have found the King–you search in that

direction I'll go this–the first one to find him

should call the other.

Enter KING LEAR and Fool

KING LEAR

Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow!

You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout

Till you have drench'd our steeples, drown'd the cocks!

You sulphurous and thought-executing fires,

Vaunt-couriers to oak-cleaving thunderbolts,

Singe my white head! And thou, all-shaking thunder,

Smite flat the thick rotundity o' the world!

Crack nature's moulds, an germens spill at once,

That make ingrateful man!

Blow, winds, and burst your cheeks! Rage! Blow!

You floods and hurricanes, pour

until you have soaked our steeples, drowned the weathercocks!

You sulphurous fires, coming at heaven's orders,

forerunners of oak splitting thunder,