King Lear, Act 3, Scene 6

Here is better than the open air; take it thankfully. I will piece out the comfort with what addition I can: I will not be long from you.

This is better than being out in the open air; be grateful for it. I'll add to the comfort with whatever else I can find: I won't be away from you long.

All the power of his wits have given way to his impatience:— the gods reward your kindness!

All the strength of his mind has given way to his anguish. May the gods reward your kindness!

Frateretto calls me; and tells me Nero is an angler in the lake of darkness. Pray, innocent, and beware the foul fiend.

Frateretto is calling me, and tells me that Nero is a fisherman in the lake of darkness. Pray, innocent one, and watch out for the foul fiend.

Prythee, nuncle, tell me whether a madman be a gentleman or a yeoman.

Please, uncle, tell me whether a madman is a gentleman or a farmer.

A king, a king!

A king, a king!

No, he’s a yeoman that has a gentleman to his son; for he’s a mad yeoman that sees his son a gentleman before him.

No, he's a farmer who has a gentleman for a son; because it's a mad farmer who sees his son become a gentleman ahead of him.

To have a thousand with red burning spits Come hissing in upon ’em.

To have a thousand men with red-hot burning spits come hissing in at them.

The foul fiend bites my back.

The foul fiend is biting my back.

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

Anyone is mad who trusts in a wolf's tameness, a horse's good health, a boy's love, or a whore's promise.

It shall be done; I will arraign them straight. [To Edgar.] Come, sit thou here, most learned justicer; [To the Fool.] Thou, sapient sir, sit here. Now, you she-foxes!—

It shall be done; I'll put them on trial at once. [To Edgar.] Come, you sit here, most learned judge. [To the Fool.] You, wise sir, sit here. Now, you she-foxes!—

Look, where he stands and glares! Want’st thou eyes at trial, madam? Come o’er the bourn, Bessy, to me.

Look, there he stands and glares! Do you want onlookers at your trial, madam? Come across the stream, Bessy, to me.

Her boat hath a leak, And she must not speak Why she dares not come over to thee.

Her boat has a leak, and she must not say why she dare not come over to you.

The foul fiend haunts poor Tom in the voice of a nightingale. Hoppedance cries in Tom’s belly for two white herring. Croak not, black angel; I have no food for thee.

The foul fiend haunts poor Tom in the voice of a nightingale. Hoppedance cries out in Tom's belly for two white herrings. Don't croak, black angel; I have no food for you.

How do you, sir? Stand you not so amaz’d; Will you lie down and rest upon the cushions?

How are you, sir? Don't stand there so stunned. Will you lie down and rest on the cushions?

I’ll see their trial first. Bring in their evidence. [To Edgar.] Thou, robed man of justice, take thy place. [To the Fool.] And thou, his yokefellow of equity, Bench by his side. [To Kent.] You are o’ the commission, Sit you too.

I'll see them tried first. Bring in the witnesses against them. [To Edgar.] You, judge in your robes, take your place. [To the Fool.] And you, his partner in justice, sit on the bench beside him. [To Kent.] You are one of the appointed judges too—you sit as well.

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. Purr! the cat is grey.

Let us judge fairly. Are you asleep or awake, cheerful shepherd? Your sheep are in the corn; and with one blast of your small sweet mouth your sheep will come to no harm. Purr! The cat is grey.

Arraign her first; ’tis Goneril. I here take my oath before this honourable assembly, she kicked the poor King her father.

Put her on trial first; this is Goneril. I swear here before this honourable assembly, she kicked the poor King her father.

Come hither, mistress. Is your name Goneril?

Come here, madam. Is your name Goneril?

She cannot deny it.

She can't deny it.

Cry you mercy, I took you for a joint-stool.

I beg your pardon, I mistook you for a stool.

And here’s another, whose warp’d looks proclaim What store her heart is made on. Stop her there! Arms, arms! sword! fire! Corruption in the place! False justicer, why hast thou let her ’scape?

And here's another one, whose twisted looks announce what stuff her heart is made of. Stop her there! Weapons, weapons! A sword! Fire! There's corruption in this court! False judge, why have you let her escape?

Bless thy five wits!

Bless your five wits!

O pity! Sir, where is the patience now That you so oft have boasted to retain?

Oh, what a pity! Sir, where is the patience now that you so often boasted you would keep?

[Aside.] My tears begin to take his part so much They mar my counterfeiting.

[Aside.] My tears are beginning to side with him so strongly that they're spoiling my pretence.

The little dogs and all, Trey, Blanch, and Sweetheart, see, they bark at me.

The little dogs too—Trey, Blanch, and Sweetheart—look, they're barking at me.

Tom will throw his head at them. Avaunt, you curs! Be thy mouth or black or white, Tooth that poisons if it bite; Mastiff, greyhound, mongrel grim, Hound or spaniel, brach or him, Or bobtail tike or trundle-tail, Tom will make them weep and wail; For, with throwing thus my head, Dogs leap the hatch, and all are fled. Do, de, de, de. Sessa! Come, march to wakes and fairs and market towns. Poor Tom, thy horn is dry.

Tom will throw his head at them. Get away, you mongrels! Whether your mouth is black or white, with a tooth that poisons if it bites; mastiff, greyhound, grim mongrel, hound or spaniel, bitch or dog, or bobtailed cur or long-tailed one, Tom will make them weep and wail; because, when I throw my head like this, the dogs jump over the half-door and they all run off. Do, de, de, de. Hush! Come on, let's march off to church festivals and fairs and market towns. Poor Tom, your drinking horn is empty.

Then let them anatomize Regan; see what breeds about her heart. Is there any cause in nature that makes these hard hearts? [To Edgar.] You, sir, I entertain you for one of my hundred; only I do not like the fashion of your garments. You’ll say they are Persian; but let them be changed.

Then let them dissect Regan; let's see what is growing around her heart. Is there any cause in nature that makes hearts as hard as these? [To Edgar.] You, sir, I take you into my service as one of my hundred men; only I don't like the cut of your clothes. You'll say they're Persian; but have them changed.

Now, good my lord, lie here and rest awhile.

Now, my good lord, lie down here and rest for a while.

Make no noise, make no noise; draw the curtains. So, so. We’ll go to supper i’ the morning.

Make no noise, make no noise; draw the bed curtains. That's it, that's it. We'll have supper in the morning.

And I’ll go to bed at noon.

And I'll go to bed at midday.

Come hither, friend; Where is the King my master?

Come here, friend. Where is the King my master?

Here, sir; but trouble him not, his wits are gone.

Here, sir; but don't disturb him, his mind is gone.

Good friend, I prythee, take him in thy arms; I have o’erheard a plot of death upon him; There is a litter ready; lay him in’t And drive towards Dover, friend, where thou shalt meet Both welcome and protection. Take up thy master; If thou shouldst dally half an hour, his life, With thine, and all that offer to defend him, Stand in assured loss. Take up, take up; And follow me, that will to some provision Give thee quick conduct.

Good friend, please take him up in your arms. I've overheard a plot to kill him. There's a litter ready; lay him in it and drive towards Dover, friend, where you'll find both a welcome and protection. Pick up your master. If you delay even half an hour, his life, and yours, and the lives of all who try to defend him, are certainly lost. Lift him up, lift him up, and follow me: I'll take you quickly to where there are supplies.

Oppressed nature sleeps. This rest might yet have balm’d thy broken sinews, Which, if convenience will not allow, Stand in hard cure. Come, help to bear thy master; [To the Fool.] Thou must not stay behind.

Worn-out nature is asleep. This rest might still have soothed your broken nerves, which, if circumstances don't allow it, will be hard to heal. Come, help me carry your master. [To the Fool.] You mustn't stay behind.

Come, come, away!

Come, come, let's go!

When we our betters see bearing our woes, We scarcely think our miseries our foes. Who alone suffers, suffers most i’ the mind, Leaving free things and happy shows behind: But then the mind much sufferance doth o’erskip When grief hath mates, and bearing fellowship. How light and portable my pain seems now, When that which makes me bend makes the King bow; He childed as I fathered! Tom, away! Mark the high noises; and thyself bewray, When false opinion, whose wrong thoughts defile thee, In thy just proof repeals and reconciles thee. What will hap more tonight, safe ’scape the King! Lurk, lurk.

When we see our superiors bearing the same sorrows we bear, we hardly think of our own miseries as enemies. Whoever suffers alone suffers most in the mind, having left free and happy sights behind; but the mind skips over much of its suffering when grief has companions and endurance has company. How light and easy to carry my pain seems now, when the same thing that bends me makes the King bow; he wronged by his children as I was by my father! Tom, away! Pay attention to the great commotion, and reveal yourself when false opinion, whose wrong beliefs dirty your name, calls you back and reconciles with you once you are proved right. Whatever else happens tonight, may the King escape safely! Stay hidden, stay hidden.