King Lear, Act 3, Scene 3

Alack, alack, Edmund, I like not this unnatural dealing. When I desired their leave that I might pity him, they took from me the use of mine own house; charged me on pain of perpetual displeasure, neither to speak of him, entreat for him, or any way sustain him.

Oh no, oh no, Edmund, I don't like this unnatural behaviour. When I asked their permission to show him pity, they took away the use of my own house; they ordered me, on pain of their permanent anger, not to speak of him, not to plead for him, and not to support him in any way.

Most savage and unnatural!

Utterly savage and unnatural!

Go to; say you nothing. There is division between the Dukes, and a worse matter than that: I have received a letter this night;—’tis dangerous to be spoken;—I have locked the letter in my closet: these injuries the King now bears will be revenged home; there’s part of a power already footed: we must incline to the King. I will look him, and privily relieve him: go you and maintain talk with the Duke, that my charity be not of him perceived: if he ask for me, I am ill, and gone to bed. If I die for it, as no less is threatened me, the King my old master must be relieved. There is some strange thing toward, Edmund; pray you be careful.

Enough; say nothing. There is a split between the Dukes, and something worse than that: I have received a letter tonight — it's dangerous to talk about it — I have locked the letter in my private room. These wrongs the King is suffering now will be fully avenged; part of an army has already landed. We must take the King's side. I will look for him and secretly help him. You go and keep the Duke talking, so that he doesn't notice my kindness to the King. If he asks for me, I am ill and have gone to bed. Even if I die for it, as I have certainly been threatened with, the King, my old master, must be helped. Some strange thing is coming, Edmund; please be careful.

This courtesy, forbid thee, shall the Duke Instantly know; and of that letter too. This seems a fair deserving, and must draw me That which my father loses, no less than all: The younger rises when the old doth fall.

This kindness, which you were forbidden to show, the Duke shall know about at once; and about that letter too. This looks like something well worth a reward, and it must win me everything my father loses — nothing less than all of it. The young man rises when the old man falls.