King Lear

by William Shakespeare

Mark it, nuncle: Have more than thou showest, Speak less than thou knowest, Lend less than thou owest, 120 Ride more than thou goest, Learn more than thou trowest, Set less than thou throwest; Leave thy drink and thy whore And keep in-a-door, And thou shalt have more Than two tens to a score.

Let it stamp wrinkles in her brow of youth, With cadent tears fret channels in her cheeks, Turn all her mother’s pains and benefits To laughter and contempt, that she may feel How sharper than a serpent’s tooth it is To have a thankless child! Away,

Thou shouldst not have been old till thou hadst been wise.

That sir which serves and seeks for gain, And follows but for form, Will pack when it begins to rain, And leave thee in the storm; But I will tarry, the fool will stay, And let the wise man fly. 80 The knave turns fool that runs away; The fool no knave, perdy.

we are not ourselves When nature, being oppressed, commands the mind To suffer with the body. I’ll forbear;

Her eyes are fierce; but thine Do comfort, and not burn.

He’s mad that trusts in the tameness of a wolf, a horse’s health, a boy’s love, or a whore’s oath.

How light and portable my pain seems now, When that which makes me bend makes the King bow

If she live long, 100 And in the end meet the old course of death, Women will all turn monsters

I have no way and therefore want no eyes; I stumbled when I saw

And worse I may be yet. The worst is not, So long as we can say ‘This is the worst.’

’Tis the time’s plague when madmen lead the blind.

It is the stars, The stars above us govern our conditions.

Your eyes are in a heavy case, your purse in a light; yet you see how this world goes.

Thorough tattered clothes great vices do appear; Robes and furred gowns hide all.

O matter and impertinency mixed, Reason in madness!

You must bear with me. Pray you now, forget and forgive. I am old and foolish.

O, our life’s sweetness, That we the pain of death would hourly die Rather than die at once

Break, heart; I prithee break.

I have a journey, sir, shortly to go. 320 My master calls me, I must not say no.

The weight of this sad time we must obey; Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say.