King Lear, Act 2, Scene 1

Save thee, Curan.

God save you, Curan.

And you, sir. I have been with your father, and given him notice that the Duke of Cornwall and Regan his Duchess will be here with him this night.

And you, sir. I have just been with your father, and told him that the Duke of Cornwall and Regan his Duchess will be here with him tonight.

How comes that?

How does that happen?

Nay, I know not. You have heard of the news abroad; I mean the whispered ones, for they are yet but ear-kissing arguments?

No, I don't know. You've heard the news that's going around — I mean the whispered news, since so far they're only matters that kiss the ear?

Not I: pray you, what are they?

Not I. Please, what are they?

Have you heard of no likely wars toward, ’twixt the two dukes of Cornwall and Albany?

You haven't heard that war is likely coming between the two dukes, Cornwall and Albany?

Not a word.

Not a word.

You may do, then, in time. Fare you well, sir.

You may do, in time, then. Goodbye, sir.

The Duke be here tonight? The better! best! This weaves itself perforce into my business. My father hath set guard to take my brother; And I have one thing, of a queasy question, Which I must act. Briefness and fortune work! Brother, a word, descend, brother, I say!

The Duke here tonight? So much the better — the best! This necessarily weaves itself into my scheme. My father has set a guard to arrest my brother; and I have one thing to do, a delicate matter, which I must carry out. Speed and luck, get to work! Brother, a word — come down, brother, I say!

My father watches: O sir, fly this place; Intelligence is given where you are hid; You have now the good advantage of the night. Have you not spoken ’gainst the Duke of Cornwall? He’s coming hither; now, i’ the night, i’ the haste, And Regan with him: have you nothing said Upon his party ’gainst the Duke of Albany? Advise yourself.

My father is watching. Oh sir, get away from this place; someone has told him where you're hiding. You have the night to your advantage now. Haven't you spoken against the Duke of Cornwall? He's coming here, now, in the night, in a hurry, and Regan with him. Have you said nothing on his side against the Duke of Albany? Think it over.

I am sure on’t, not a word.

I'm certain of it — not a word.

I hear my father coming:—pardon me; In cunning I must draw my sword upon you: Draw: seem to defend yourself: now quit you well. Yield: come before my father. Light, ho, here! Fly, brother. Torches, torches!—So farewell.

I hear my father coming. Forgive me — as a trick I must draw my sword on you. Draw; pretend to defend yourself; now, acquit yourself well. Surrender — come before my father. A light, here, hello! Run, brother. Torches, torches! — So, goodbye.

Some blood drawn on me would beget opinion Of my more fierce endeavour: [Wounds his arm.] I have seen drunkards Do more than this in sport. Father, father! Stop, stop! No help?

A little blood drawn from me would create the impression that I fought harder. [He wounds his arm.] I've seen drunkards do more than this for fun. Father, father! Stop him, stop him! Is there no help?

Now, Edmund, where’s the villain?

Now, Edmund, where's the villain?

Here stood he in the dark, his sharp sword out, Mumbling of wicked charms, conjuring the moon To stand auspicious mistress.

He stood here in the dark with his sharp sword drawn, muttering wicked spells, calling on the moon to be his favourable patroness.

But where is he?

But where is he?

Look, sir, I bleed.

Look, sir, I'm bleeding.

Where is the villain, Edmund?

Where is the villain, Edmund?

Fled this way, sir. When by no means he could,—

He fled this way, sir. When he could by no means —

Pursue him, ho! Go after.

Chase him, you there! Go after him.

—By no means what?

— By no means what?

Persuade me to the murder of your lordship; But that I told him the revenging gods ’Gainst parricides did all their thunders bend; Spoke with how manifold and strong a bond The child was bound to the father; sir, in fine, Seeing how loathly opposite I stood To his unnatural purpose, in fell motion With his prepared sword, he charges home My unprovided body, latch’d mine arm; But when he saw my best alarum’d spirits, Bold in the quarrel’s right, rous’d to th’encounter, Or whether gasted by the noise I made, Full suddenly he fled.

Persuade me to murder your lordship. But I told him that the avenging gods aim all their thunderbolts against those who kill their fathers; I spoke of how many and how strong the bonds are that tie a child to his father. In short, sir, when he saw how hatefully I set myself against his unnatural plan, with a savage lunge of his ready sword he drives straight at my unarmed body and pierced my arm. But when he saw my spirits fully roused to the fight, bold in the rightness of the quarrel — or else he was frightened by the noise I made — he ran off all of a sudden.

Let him fly far; Not in this land shall he remain uncaught; And found—dispatch’d. The noble Duke my master, My worthy arch and patron, comes tonight: By his authority I will proclaim it, That he which finds him shall deserve our thanks, Bringing the murderous coward to the stake; He that conceals him, death.

Let him run far. He shall not stay uncaught anywhere in this land; and once found — finished. The noble Duke, my master, my worthy protector and patron, comes tonight. With his authority I will proclaim that whoever finds him will earn our thanks, by bringing the murderous coward to the execution stake; and whoever hides him, death.

When I dissuaded him from his intent, And found him pight to do it, with curst speech I threaten’d to discover him: he replied, ‘Thou unpossessing bastard! dost thou think, If I would stand against thee, would the reposal Of any trust, virtue, or worth in thee Make thy words faith’d? No: what I should deny As this I would; ay, though thou didst produce My very character, I’d turn it all To thy suggestion, plot, and damned practice: And thou must make a dullard of the world, If they not thought the profits of my death Were very pregnant and potential spurs To make thee seek it.

When I tried to talk him out of his plan and found him fixed on doing it, I angrily threatened to expose him. He answered, 'You beggarly bastard, do you think that if I stood against you, any faith, virtue, or worth that people placed in you would make your words believed? No. What I chose to deny — and I would deny this — yes, even if you produced my own handwriting, I'd make it all look like your prompting, your plot, your damnable scheming. And you'd have to take the whole world for idiots if they didn't think the profits of my death were very obvious and powerful spurs to make you seek it.'

O strange and fast’ned villain! Would he deny his letter, said he? I never got him.

Oh, what an unnatural, hardened villain! Would he deny his letter, he said? I never fathered him.

Hark, the Duke’s trumpets! I know not why he comes. All ports I’ll bar; the villain shall not scape; The Duke must grant me that: besides, his picture I will send far and near, that all the kingdom May have due note of him; and of my land, Loyal and natural boy, I’ll work the means To make thee capable.

Listen, the Duke's trumpets! I don't know why he's coming. I'll block all the ports; the villain shall not escape. The Duke must grant me that. Besides, I'll send his picture far and wide, so that the whole kingdom can properly recognise him. And as for my land, my loyal and true-born boy, I'll arrange the means to make you able to inherit it.

How now, my noble friend! since I came hither, Which I can call but now, I have heard strange news.

How are you, my noble friend! Since I arrived here — which was only this moment — I have heard strange news.

If it be true, all vengeance comes too short Which can pursue th’offender. How dost, my lord?

If it's true, no revenge that could chase the offender is enough. How are you, my lord?

O madam, my old heart is crack’d, it’s crack’d!

Oh madam, my old heart is cracked, it's cracked!

What, did my father’s godson seek your life? He whom my father nam’d? your Edgar?

What, did my father's godson try to kill you? The one my father named? Your Edgar?

O lady, lady, shame would have it hid!

Oh lady, lady, shame wishes it kept hidden!

Was he not companion with the riotous knights That tend upon my father?

Wasn't he a companion of those wild knights who wait on my father?

I know not, madam; ’tis too bad, too bad.

I don't know, madam. It's too bad, too bad.

Yes, madam, he was of that consort.

Yes, madam, he was one of that company.

No marvel then though he were ill affected: ’Tis they have put him on the old man’s death, To have the expense and waste of his revenues. I have this present evening from my sister Been well inform’d of them; and with such cautions That if they come to sojourn at my house, I’ll not be there.

No wonder, then, that he was badly disposed. It's they who put him up to killing the old man, so as to spend and squander his income. This very evening I've had a full account of them from my sister, and with such warnings that if they come to stay at my house, I won't be there.

Nor I, assure thee, Regan. Edmund, I hear that you have shown your father A childlike office.

Nor I, I assure you, Regan. Edmund, I hear you have performed a proper son's service for your father.

It was my duty, sir.

It was my duty, sir.

He did bewray his practice; and receiv’d This hurt you see, striving to apprehend him.

He exposed his plot, and got this wound you see while trying to seize him.

Is he pursued?

Is he being pursued?

Ay, my good lord.

Yes, my good lord.

If he be taken, he shall never more Be fear’d of doing harm: make your own purpose, How in my strength you please. For you, Edmund, Whose virtue and obedience doth this instant So much commend itself, you shall be ours: Natures of such deep trust we shall much need; You we first seize on.

If he's caught, he shall never be feared for doing harm again. Make whatever plan you like, using my power as you please. As for you, Edmund, whose goodness and obedience recommend themselves so strongly at this moment — you shall be one of ours. We shall have great need of natures so deeply trustworthy. You are the first we take.

I shall serve you, sir, truly, however else.

I shall serve you faithfully, sir, whatever else.

For him I thank your grace.

I thank your grace on his behalf.

You know not why we came to visit you?

You don't know why we came to visit you?

Thus out of season, threading dark-ey’d night: Occasions, noble Gloucester, of some poise, Wherein we must have use of your advice. Our father he hath writ, so hath our sister, Of differences, which I best thought it fit To answer from our home; the several messengers From hence attend dispatch. Our good old friend, Lay comforts to your bosom; and bestow Your needful counsel to our business, Which craves the instant use.

At such an odd hour, making our way through the dark-eyed night. There are matters of some weight, noble Gloucester, in which we must make use of your advice. Our father has written, and so has our sister, about quarrels between them, and I thought it best to reply away from home. The various messengers are waiting here to be sent off. Our good old friend, take comfort to your heart, and give us the counsel we need for our business, which demands to be dealt with at once.

I serve you, madam: Your graces are right welcome.

I am at your service, madam. Your graces are very welcome.