King Lear: Annotated version of King Lear with in-depth literary analysis

by William Shakespeare

Those wicked creatures yet do look well-favour'd, When others are more wicked: not being the worst Stands in some rank of praise.

O, reason not the need:

KING LEAR O, reason not the need: our basest beggars Are in the poorest thing superfluous: Allow not nature more than nature needs, Man's life's as cheap as beast's: . . .

I will have such revenges on you both, That all the world shall--I will do such things,-- What they are, yet I know not: but they shall be The terrors of the earth.

You think I'll weep No, I'll not weep: I have full cause of weeping; but this heart Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws, Or ere I'll weep. O fool, I shall go mad!

KING LEAR . . . You think I'll weep No, I'll not weep: I have full cause of weeping; but this heart Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws, Or ere I'll weep. O fool, I shall go mad!

KENT 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-scorn 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.

KENT 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-scorn 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.

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!

SCENE II. Another part of the heath. Storm still. 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!

Rumble thy bellyful! Spit, fire! spout, rain! Nor rain, wind, thunder, fire, are my daughters: I tax not you, you elements, with unkindness; I never gave you kingdom, call'd you children,

KING LEAR Rumble thy bellyful! Spit, fire! spout, rain! Nor rain, wind, thunder, fire, are my daughters: I tax not you, you elements, with unkindness; I never gave you kingdom, call'd you children, You owe me no subscription: then let fall Your horrible pleasure: here I stand, your slave, A poor, infirm, weak, and despised old man: But yet I call you servile ministers, That have with two pernicious daughters join'd Your high engender'd battles 'gainst a head So old and white as this. O! O! 'tis foul!

For there was never yet fair woman but she made mouths in a glass.

I am a man More sinn'd against than sinning.

The art of our necessities is strange, That can make vile things precious.

This is a brave night to cool a courtezan.

Fool This is a brave night to cool a courtezan. I'll speak a prophecy ere I go: When priests are more in word than matter; When brewers mar their malt with water; When nobles are their tailors' tutors; No heretics burn'd, but wenches' suitors; When every case in law is right; No squire in debt, nor no poor knight; When slanders do not live in tongues; Nor cutpurses come not to throngs; When usurers tell their gold i' the field; And bawds and whores do churches build; Then shall the realm of Albion Come to great confusion: Then comes the time, who lives to see't, That going shall be used with feet. This prophecy Merlin shall make; for I live before his time. Exit

But where the greater malady is fix'd, The lesser is scarce felt.

This tempest will not give me leave to ponder On things would hurt me more.

Poor naked wretches, whereso'er you are, That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm, How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides, Your loop'd and window'd raggedness, defend you From seasons such as these? O, I have ta'en Too little care of this! Take physic, pomp; Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel, That thou mayst shake the superflux to them, And show the heavens more just.

KING LEAR . . . Poor naked wretches, whereso'er you are, That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm, How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides, Your loop'd and window'd raggedness, defend you From seasons such as these? O, I have ta'en Too little care of this! Take physic, pomp; Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel, That thou mayst shake the superflux to them, And show the heavens more just.

This cold night will turn us all to fools and madmen.

Still through the hawthorn blows the cold wind: Says suum, mun, ha, no, nonny.

EDGAR A serving-man, proud in heart and mind; that curled my hair; wore gloves in my cap; served the lust of my mistress' heart, and did the act of darkness with her; swore as many oaths as I spake words, and broke them in the sweet face of heaven: one that slept in the contriving of lust, and waked to do it: wine loved I deeply, dice dearly: and in woman out-paramoured the Turk: false of heart, light of ear, bloody of hand; hog in sloth, fox in stealth, wolf in greediness, dog in madness, lion in prey. Let not the creaking of shoes nor the rustling of silks betray thy poor heart to woman: keep thy foot out of brothels, thy hand out of plackets, thy pen from lenders' books, and defy the foul fiend. Still through the hawthorn blows the cold wind: Says suum, mun, ha, no, nonny. Dolphin my boy, my boy, sessa! let him trot by. Storm still

Consider him well. Thou owest the worm no silk, the beast no hide, the sheep no wool, the cat no perfume.

KING LEAR . . . Consider him well. Thou owest the worm no silk, the beast no hide, the sheep no wool, the cat no perfume. Ha! here's three on 's are sophisticated! Thou art the thing itself: . . .

Thou art the thing itself: unaccommodated man is no more but such a poor bare, forked animal as thou art.

This is the foul fiend Flibbertigibbet:

EDGAR This is the foul fiend Flibbertigibbet: he begins at curfew, and walks till the first cock; he gives the web and the pin, squints the eye, and makes the hare-lip; mildews the white wheat, and hurts the poor creature of earth. S. Withold footed thrice the old; He met the night-mare, and her nine-fold; Bid her alight, And her troth plight, And, aroint thee, witch, aroint thee!

The prince of darkness is a gentleman:

Child Rowland to the dark tower came, His word was still,--Fie, foh, and fum, I smell the blood of a British man.

“EDGAR: Child Rowland to the dark tower came, His word was still,--Fie, foh, and fum, I smell the blood of a British man” (Shakespeare, 1605. “King Lear,” ACT III, SCENE IV. The heath. Before a hovel.).

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

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

Let us deal justly. Sleepest or wakest thou, jolly shepherd? Thy sheep be in the corn; And for one blast of thy minikin mouth, Thy sheep shall take no harm. Pur! the cat is gray.

EDGAR Let us deal justly. Sleepest or wakest thou, jolly shepherd? Thy sheep be in the corn; And for one blast of thy minikin mouth, Thy sheep shall take no harm. Pur! the cat is gray.

When we our betters see bearing our woes, We scarcely think our miseries our foes.

Be simple answerer, for we know the truth.

REGAN Be simple answerer, for we know the truth.

Out, vile jelly! Where is thy lustre now?

All dark and comfortless.

I have no way, and therefore want no eyes; I stumbled when I saw: full oft 'tis seen, Our means secure us, and our mere defects Prove our commodities.

GLOUCESTER I have no way, and therefore want no eyes; I stumbled when I saw: full oft 'tis seen, Our means secure us, and our mere defects Prove our commodities. O dear son Edgar, The food of thy abused father's wrath! Might I but live to see thee in my touch, I'ld say I had eyes again!

And worse I may be yet: the worst is not So long as we can say 'This is the worst.'

EDGAR [Aside] And worse I may be yet: the worst is not So long as we can say 'This is the worst.'

As flies to wanton boys, are we to the gods. They kill us for their sport.

'Tis the times' plague, when madmen lead the blind.

You are not worth the dust which the rude wind Blows in your face.

ALBANY O Goneril! You are not worth the dust which the rude wind Blows in your face. I fear your disposition: That nature, which contemns its origin, Cannot be border'd certain in itself; She that herself will sliver and disbranch From her material sap, perforce must wither And come to deadly use.

Wisdom and goodness to the vile seem vile: Filths savour but themselves.

Humanity must perforce prey on itself, Like monsters of the deep.

Milk-liver'd man!

Proper deformity seems not in the fiend So horrid as in woman.

ALBANY See thyself, devil! Proper deformity seems not in the fiend So horrid as in woman.

Ay, every inch a king: When I do stare, see how the subject quakes.

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 simpering 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, Though women all above: But to the girdle do the gods inherit, Beneath is all the fiends'; 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.

GLOUCESTER O, let me kiss that hand! KING LEAR Let me wipe it first; it smells of mortality.

GLOUCESTER O, let me kiss that hand! KING LEAR Let me wipe it first; it smells of mortality.

Were all the letters suns, I could not see one.

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 lust'st to use her in that kind For which thou whipp'st her. The usurer hangs the cozener.

KING 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 lust'st to use her in that kind For which thou whipp'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 pigmy'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 the accuser's lips. Get thee glass eyes; And like a scurvy politician, seem To see the things thou dost not.

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 pigmy's straw does pierce it.

KING LEAR . . . 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 pigmy's straw does pierce it.

we came crying hither: Thou know'st, the first time that we smell the air, We wawl and cry.

When we are born, we cry that we are come To this great stage of fools:

I am even The natural fool of fortune.

You ever-gentle gods, take my breath from me: Let not my worser spirit tempt me again To die before you please!

GLOUCESTER You ever-gentle gods, take my breath from me: Let not my worser spirit tempt me again To die before you please!

GLOUCESTER Now, good sir, what are you? 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.

GLOUCESTER Now, good sir, what are you? 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.

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!

OSWALD 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! Dies EDGAR I know thee well: a serviceable villain; As duteous to the vices of thy mistress As badness would desire.

I know thee well: a serviceable villain; As duteous to the vices of thy mistress As badness would desire.

What, is he dead?

GLOUCESTER What, is he dead? EDGAR Sit you down, father; rest you Let's see these pockets: the letters that he speaks of May be my friends. He's dead; I am only sorry He had no other death's-man. 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 'Let our reciprocal vows be remembered. You have many opportunities to cut him off: if your will want not, time and place will be fruitfully offered. There is nothing done, if he return the conqueror: then am I the prisoner, and his bed my goal; from the loathed warmth whereof deliver me, and supply the place for your labour. 'Your--wife, so I would say-- 'Affectionate servant, 'GONERIL.' O undistinguish'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 murderous lechers: and in the mature time With this ungracious paper strike the sight Of the death practised duke: for him 'tis well That of thy death and business I can tell.