King Lear, Act 4, Scene 2

Welcome, my lord. I marvel our mild husband Not met us on the way. Now, where’s your master?

Welcome, my lord. I'm surprised our gentle husband didn't meet us on the road. Now, where is your master?

Madam, within; but never man so chang’d. I told him of the army that was landed; He smil’d at it: I told him you were coming; His answer was, ‘The worse.’ Of Gloucester’s treachery And of the loyal service of his son When I inform’d him, then he call’d me sot, And told me I had turn’d the wrong side out. What most he should dislike seems pleasant to him; What like, offensive.

Madam, he's inside; but no man was ever so changed. I told him about the army that had landed; he smiled at it. I told him you were coming; his answer was, "So much the worse." When I informed him of Gloucester's treachery and of the loyal service of his son, he called me an idiot, and told me I had got things backwards. What he ought to hate most seems pleasant to him, and what he should like, offensive.

[To Edmund.] Then shall you go no further. It is the cowish terror of his spirit, That dares not undertake. He’ll not feel wrongs Which tie him to an answer. Our wishes on the way May prove effects. Back, Edmund, to my brother; Hasten his musters and conduct his powers. I must change names at home, and give the distaff Into my husband’s hands. This trusty servant Shall pass between us. Ere long you are like to hear, If you dare venture in your own behalf, A mistress’s command. [Giving a favour.] Wear this; spare speech; Decline your head. This kiss, if it durst speak, Would stretch thy spirits up into the air. Conceive, and fare thee well.

[To Edmund.] Then you shall go no further. It's the cowardly fear in his spirit, which dares not act. He won't take notice of insults that would oblige him to answer them. The wishes we spoke of on the road may come true. Go back, Edmund, to my brother; speed up his recruiting and take command of his forces. I must swap roles at home, and put the spinning staff into my husband's hands. This trustworthy servant will carry messages between us. Before long you're likely to hear, if you dare risk something for your own advantage, a mistress's command. [Giving a favour.] Wear this; don't speak; bend your head down. This kiss, if it dared to speak, would lift your spirits into the air. Understand me, and goodbye.

Yours in the ranks of death.

Yours even in the ranks of death.

My most dear Gloucester. O, the difference of man and man! To thee a woman’s services are due; My fool usurps my body.

My dearest Gloucester! Oh, what a difference there is between one man and another! You are the one who deserves a woman's services; my fool of a husband takes possession of my body.

Madam, here comes my lord.

Madam, here comes my lord.

I have been worth the whistle.

There was a time I was worth whistling for.

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 bordered certain in itself. She that herself will sliver and disbranch From her material sap, perforce must wither And come to deadly use.

Oh, Goneril! You aren't worth the dust that the rough wind blows into your face. I'm afraid of your nature. That nature which despises the source it came from can't be kept within safe limits. She who is willing to split and break herself off from the sap that made her must inevitably wither and be put to some deadly use.

No more; the text is foolish.

Stop it; the sermon is stupid.

Wisdom and goodness to the vile seem vile; Filths savour but themselves. What have you done? Tigers, not daughters, what have you perform’d? A father, and a gracious aged man, Whose reverence even the head-lugg’d bear would lick, Most barbarous, most degenerate, have you madded. Could my good brother suffer you to do it? A man, a prince, by him so benefitted! If that the heavens do not their visible spirits Send quickly down to tame these vile offences, It will come, Humanity must perforce prey on itself, Like monsters of the deep.

Wisdom and goodness seem vile to the vile; filth likes only its own taste. What have you done? Tigers, not daughters — what have you carried out? A father, and a kind old man, whose dignity even a bear dragged by the head would lick — you have driven him mad, in the most barbarous, most unnatural way. How could my good brother let you do it? A man, a prince, who has received so much good from him! If the heavens do not send their visible spirits down quickly to punish these vile crimes, it will happen: human beings will inevitably prey on each other, like monsters of the deep.

Milk-liver’d man! That bear’st a cheek for blows, a head for wrongs; Who hast not in thy brows an eye discerning Thine honour from thy suffering; that not know’st Fools do those villains pity who are punish’d Ere they have done their mischief. Where’s thy drum? France spreads his banners in our noiseless land; With plumed helm thy state begins to threat, Whilst thou, a moral fool, sitt’st still, and criest ‘Alack, why does he so?’

You milk-livered man! You have a cheek that's only there to be hit, and a head only there to be insulted. You have no eye in your forehead to tell your honour from the abuse you put up with. You don't know that only fools pity those villains who are punished before they've managed to do their harm. Where is your drum? France is spreading his banners in our quiet country; with a plumed helmet he begins to threaten your state, while you, a preaching fool, sit still and cry, "Oh dear, why does he do that?"

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

Look at yourself, devil! The deformity that belongs to a fiend does not look so horrible in a fiend as it does in a woman.

O vain fool!

Oh, you empty fool!

Thou changed and self-cover’d thing, for shame! Be-monster not thy feature! Were’t my fitness To let these hands obey my blood, They are apt enough to dislocate and tear Thy flesh and bones. Howe’er thou art a fiend, A woman’s shape doth shield thee.

You transformed thing, hiding your true self — shame on you! Don't turn your face into a monster's. If it were right for me to let these hands obey my anger, they are ready enough to pull apart and tear your flesh and bones. However much you are a fiend, a woman's shape protects you.

Marry, your manhood, mew!

Well, what a man you are — miaow!

What news?

What news?

O, my good lord, the Duke of Cornwall’s dead; Slain by his servant, going to put out The other eye of Gloucester.

Oh, my good lord, the Duke of Cornwall is dead, killed by his own servant as he was about to put out Gloucester's other eye.

Gloucester’s eyes!

Gloucester's eyes!

A servant that he bred, thrill’d with remorse, Oppos’d against the act, bending his sword To his great master; who, thereat enrag’d, Flew on him, and amongst them fell’d him dead; But not without that harmful stroke which since Hath pluck’d him after.

A servant he had raised in his house, pierced with pity, opposed the act and turned his sword on his great master; who, enraged at that, flew at him, and between them all he was struck down dead — but not before he had given that damaging blow which has since carried his master after him.

This shows you are above, You justicers, that these our nether crimes So speedily can venge! But, O poor Gloucester! Lost he his other eye?

This shows that you are up there, you judges, since you can avenge our crimes down here so quickly. But, oh, poor Gloucester! Did he lose his other eye?

Both, both, my lord. This letter, madam, craves a speedy answer; ’Tis from your sister.

Both, both, my lord. This letter, madam, needs a quick answer; it's from your sister.

[Aside.] One way I like this well; But being widow, and my Gloucester with her, May all the building in my fancy pluck Upon my hateful life. Another way The news is not so tart. I’ll read, and answer.

[Aside.] In one way I'm glad of this. But now she's a widow, and my Gloucester is with her, the whole building I've raised in my imagination may come crashing down on my hateful life. In another way the news is not so bitter. I'll read it and reply.

Where was his son when they did take his eyes?

Where was his son when they took out his eyes?

Come with my lady hither.

He came here with my lady.

He is not here.

He isn't here.

No, my good lord; I met him back again.

No, my good lord; I met him on his way back again.

Knows he the wickedness?

Does he know about the wickedness?

Ay, my good lord. ’Twas he inform’d against him; And quit the house on purpose, that their punishment Might have the freer course.

Yes, my good lord. It was he who informed against him, and he left the house on purpose so that their punishment of him could go ahead more freely.

Gloucester, I live To thank thee for the love thou show’dst the King, And to revenge thine eyes. Come hither, friend, Tell me what more thou know’st.

Gloucester, I live to thank you for the love you showed the King, and to avenge your eyes. Come here, friend, tell me whatever more you know.