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, "The worse for that." When I informed him of Gloucester's treachery and of the loyal service of his son, he called me a fool and told me I had it backwards. What he ought to hate most seems pleasant to him; 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 should go no further. It's the cowardly fear in his soul that makes him unable to act. He won't take notice of insults that would oblige him to respond. The wishes we spoke of on the way here may come true. Go back, Edmund, to my brother-in-law; 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, if you dare to act in your own interest, you're likely to hear a mistress's command. [She gives him a token.] 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, the difference between one man and another! A woman's services belong to you; my idiot 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 in your face! Your character frightens me. A nature that despises the source it came from can't be kept safely within any bounds. A woman who will split and break herself off from the sap of the tree that made her must inevitably wither and be put to deadly use.

No more; the text is foolish.

Stop; 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 in respect — you have driven him mad, in the most savage, most unnatural way. How could my good brother-in-law let you do it? A man, a prince, who received so much good from him! If the heavens don't quickly send down their visible spirits to put a stop to these vile offences, it will happen: humanity must inevitably feed on itself, like the monsters of the sea.

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?’

Man with milk for blood! You keep a cheek ready for slaps and a head ready for insults; you have no eye in your brow that can tell your honour from your humiliation; you don't know that only fools pity those criminals who are punished before they've managed to do their harm. Where's your drum? France is unfurling his banners in our quiet country; with feathered helmet he starts to threaten your position, while you, a preaching fool, sit still and cry, "Oh dear, why is he doing that?"

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

Look at yourself, devil! Deformity that belongs to a fiend doesn't look as horrible in the fiend as it does in a woman.

O vain fool!

Oh, you empty-headed 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 creature hiding your true self, shame on you! Don't turn your face into a monster's! If it suited what I am to let these hands obey my anger, they're more than ready to tear your flesh and bones apart. However much you are a fiend, a woman's shape protects you.

Marry, your manhood, mew!

Well now, your manhood — what a joke!

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, moved with pity, objected to the act and turned his sword on his great master; who, enraged at that, rushed at him, and with the others' help struck him dead; but not before taking that damaging blow which has since carried him off after the servant.

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 above us, 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, asks for a quick reply; 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 with her a widow, and my Gloucester with her, everything I've built in my imagination may come crashing down on my hated life. In another way the news isn't so bitter. I'll read it and answer.

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 reported his father, and he deliberately left the house so that their punishment of him could take its course 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'm alive to thank you for the love you showed the King, and to avenge your eyes. Come here, friend, tell me whatever else you know.