King lear

who is gloucester? who’s kent? kent = my lord
“but i have, sir, a son by order of law, some year older than this, who yet is no dearer in my account. though this knave came something suacily to the world before he was sent for…and the whoreson must be acknowledged..” gloucestor, speaking to kent. he is saying that he has a legitimate son that’s older, but he doesn’t love him more “in my account” – quantifying – bank-like edmund = legitimate sonedgar = illegitimate son
“meantime we shall express our darker purpose – give me the map there – know that we have divided in three our kingdm…and you, our no less loving son of albany, we have this hour a constant will to publish….tell me, my duaghters, since now we will divest us both of rul…which of you shall we say doth love us most that we our largest bounty may extend where nature doth with merit challenge? – goneril, our eldest born, speak first. lear first entrancei’ll get down to businessdivide my kingdom into 3, is going to his daughters. “conferring them on younger strengths while we unburdened crawl toward death.-quantifying love – love for land exchange-look into this again
who is cornwall and albany? they are the kingdoms
“sir, i do love you mroe than words can wield the matter, dearer than eyesight, space, and libery, beyond what can be valued, rich or rare…as much as child e’er loved or father found- a love that makes breath poor” goneril – in the beginning, talking to lear, proclaiming her love because she wants his land.
“of all these bounds, even from this line to this, with shadowy forests and with champains riched, with plenteous rivers and wide-skirted meads, we make thee lady. to thine and albany’s issue be this perpetual. what says our second daughter, our dearest regan, wife of cornwall? speal. lear talking to goneril. saying he’ll give her all this land.
“sir, i am made of that self mettle as my sister, and prize me at her worth. in my true heart, i find she names my very deed of love – only she comes too short, that i profess myself an enemy to all other joys, which the most precious square of sense possesses. and find i am alone felicitate in your dear highness’ love. regan now proclaiming her love to lear – she says that goneril’s description of love “comes too short”, exclaiming that her love for him is her only joy.
“my love’s more ponderous than my tongue” cordelia speaking to herself, saying that she doesn’t have anything to say because her love is bigger than words
“to thee and thine hereditary ever remain this ample third of our fair kingdom…no less in space, validity, and pleasure than that conferred to goneril…what can you say to draw a third more opulent than your sisters? speak.” lear after he has heard goneril and regan speak, wanting cordelia to express his love for her.
“how? nothing will come of nothing. speak again” lear to cordelia – if you say nothing – if you give me no love, you’ll get nothing – no land.
“good my lord, you have begot me, bred me, loved me. i return those duties back as are right fit – obey you, love you, most honor you…why have my sisters husbands if they say they love you all? haply when i shall wed that lord whose hnd must take my plight shall carry half my love with him, half my care and duty, sure i shall never marry like my sistersm to love my father all.” cordelia to lear when he asks her to profess her love. she explains that she loves him just normally, as a daughter should, but if she gets married, half of her love will go to her husband.
“let it be so. thy truth then by thy dower….here i disclaim all my paternal care, propinquity, and property of blood….he that makes his generation messes to forge his appetite, shall t my bosom be as well neighbored, pitied, and relieve as thou my sometime daughter.””cornwall and albany…i do invest you jointy with my power, preeminence, and all the large effects that troop with majesty…with reservation of a hundred knights..only shall we retain the name, and all th’additions to a king.” lear to cordelia – in shock, is hurt. disowns cordelia, saying that savages who eat their own children will be close to his heart and will be “pitied”. lear says that he’ll give everything that kingship brings – crown, privileges, and spend a month w one, the next with the other daughter, and all he asks is that he keeps a hundred knights with him and the “name” of king – the title. saying that they will have the authoriy, the income, etc. hands over the crown
“what wouldst thou do, old man? think’st thou that duty shall have dread to speak when power to flattery bows?….answer my life my judgement, thy youngest daughter does not love thee least., nor are those empty-hearted whoe low sound reverbs no hollowness” kent to lear – when a powerful king starts to cave into flattery, don’t you think loyal men will speak against it? saying cordelia certainly doesn’t love him least – a loud mouth-empty heart, being queit doesn’t mean she doesn’t love him.
“hear me, recreant!…sought to make us break our vows, which we durst never yet, and with strained pride to come betwixt our sentence and our power, which nor our nature nor our place can bear…””and your large speeches may your deed approve, that good effects may spring from words of love.” leart to kent. saying he’s never broken a vow yet – which he probably did? his marriage vow?calling him a traitor for trying to make him break his “vow”and you two, i hope you two will act like you promise in your grand speeches of love.
burgundy is?
Right noble Burgundy,When she was dear to us we did hold her so,But now her price is fallen. Sir, there she stands.If aught within that little seeming substance,Or all of it, with our displeasure piecedAnd nothing more, may fitly like your grace,She’s there, and she is yours.Sir, will you, with those infirmities she owes—Unfriended, new adopted to our hate,Dowered with our curse and strangered with our oath—Take her or leave her?To match you where I hate. Therefore beseech youT’ avert your liking a more worthier wayThan on a wretch whom Nature is ashamedAlmost t’ acknowledge hers. king lear to burgundy, saying that cordeli’a price has fallen, and what you see is what you get with hernow he is taking to france and saying that nature is ashamed of her – she is barely human.
Sure, her offenseMust be of such unnatural degreeThat monsters it (or your fore-vouched affectionFall into taint) france to leara big emphasis on what is natural or not. her crime must’ve benw huge, or your earlier proclaimed love false.
yet beseech your majesty,If for I want that glib and oily artTo speak and purpose not—since what I well intend,A still-soliciting eye and such a tongueAs I am glad I have not, cordelia to lear, saying she doesn’t have such a smooth tongue but she’s proud of it. even if that has lost her his love.
Love’s not loveWhen it is mingled with regards that standsAloof from th’ entire point. Will you have her?She is herself a dowry. france to burgundy
Thou, nature, art my goddess. To thy lawMy services are bound. Wherefore should IStand in the plague of custom and permitThe curiosity of nations to deprive meFor that I am some twelve or fourteen moonshinesLag of a brother? Why “bastard”? Wherefore “base”?When my dimensions are as well compact,My mind as generous, and my shape as trueAs honest madam’s issue? .Well then,Legitimate Edgar, I must have your land.Edmund the baseShall top th’ legitimate. I grow, I prosper.Now, gods, stand up for bastards! edmund soliloquy saying that by nature, he is superior- despite how society may define him as the younger one, the “bastard”.
what does the letter that edmund has say? This policy and reverence of age makes the world bitter to the best of our times, keeps our fortunes from us till our oldness cannot relish them. I begin to find an idle and fond bondage in the oppression of aged tyranny, who sways not as it hath power but as it is suffered. Come to me, that of this I may speak more. If our father would sleep till I waked him, you should enjoy half his revenue forever, and live the beloved of your brother, edmund is the one that wrote it, but he pretends that it is from edgar, saying that the old are tyrannical in holdng onto their power for too long. “if our father would sleep till i waked him”
O villain, villain! His very opinion in the letter! Abhorred villain! Unnatural, detested, brutish villain—worse than gloucestor, shocked that his son edgar would want to kill him
where if you violently proceed against him, mistaking his purpose, it would make a great gap in your own honor and shake in pieces the heart of his obedience. I dare pawn down my life for him that he hath wrote this to feel my affection to your honor and to no other pretense of danger. edmund to gloucestor – i bet he wrote this to gauge my love for you. if you go afterhim mistakingly, you’ll ruin your reputation.
Frame the business after your own wisdom. I would unstate myself to be in a due resolution. gloucester to edmund – would give up my rank and fortune to be free of my doubts
The king falls from bias of nature—there’s father against child. We have seen the best of our time. Machinations, hollowness, treachery, and all ruinous disorders follow us disquietly to our graves. gloucestor to edmund – son against father, father against child – we’re seeing the worst!
This is the excellent foppery of the world that when we are sick in fortune—often the surfeit of our own behavior—we make guilty of our disasters the sun, the moon, and the stars, as if we were villains by necessity, fools by heavenly compulsion, knaves, thieves, and treachers by spherical predominance, drunkards, liars, and adulterers by an enforced obedience of planetary influence, and all that we are evil in by a divine thrusting-on. An admirable evasion of whoremaster man, to lay his goatish disposition to the charge of a star! My father compounded with my mother under the dragon’s tail and my nativity was under Ursa Major, so that it follows I am rough and lecherous. Fut, I should have been that I am, had the maidenliest star in the firmament twinkled on my bastardizing. Edgar— when we’re down,we blame the sun, moon, stars. nlame our horniness on some star! i am what i am.
170A credulous father, and a brother noble—Whose nature is so far from doing harmsThat he suspects none, on whose foolish honestyMy practices ride easy. I see the business.Let me, if not by birth, have lands by wit.All with me’s meet that I can fashion fit. edmund sto himselfhe sounds a lot like iagoif not by birth, by wit – i’ll rely on my brains then.
who is oswald?
y day and night he wrongs me. Every hourHe flashes into one gross crime or otherThat sets us all at odds. I’ll not endure it.His knights grow riotous, and himself upbraids usOn every trifle. When he returns from hunting,I will not speak with him. Say I am sick.If you come slack of former services,You shall do well. The fault of it I’ll answer.Put on what weary negligence you please,You and your fellow servants. I’ll have it come to question.If he distaste it, let him to our sister,Whose mind and mine I know in that are one,Not to be overruled. Idle old manThat still would manage those authoritiesThat he hath given away! Now by my life,Old fools are babes again and must be usedWith checks as flatteries, when they are seen abused.Remember what I have said.And let his knights have colder looks among you.What grows of it, no matter. Advise your fellows so.I would breed from hence occasions, and I shall,That I may speak. I’ll write straight to my sisterTo hold my very course. Go, prepare for dinner. gonneril to oswaldcomplaining about learhe constantly offends me. his knights are out of control.
why is kent disguised? so that he can serve lear again
Why? For taking one’s part that’s out of favor. Nay, an thou canst not smile as the wind sits, thou’lt catch cold shortly. There, take my coxcomb. Why, this fellow has banished two on ‘s daughters, and did the third a blessing against his will. If thou follow him, thou must needs wear my coxcomb.—How now, nuncle? Would I had two coxcombs and two daughters. fool to learWhy? For standing up for this unpopular king. No, if you can’t adjust to political changes, you’ll suffer for it. There, take my fool’s cap. This guy here has banished two of his daughters and blessed the third one without intending to. If you work for him, you’re a fool and should wear a fool’s cap.—So how’s it going, uncle? I wish I had two fool’s caps and two daughters.
Why no, boy. Nothing can be made out of nothing. lear to the fool. repeating what he said to cordelia. nothing can be made out of nothing. but this dpends on what he defines as something.
have used it, nuncle, ever since thou madest thy daughters thy mothers. For when thou gavest them the rod, and put’st down thine own breeches, fool to learI’ve been singing ever since you made your daughters into your mothers by giving them all your power. That’s when you gave them the spanking paddle and pulled your pants down,saying lear became a fool
nuncle is the fool talking to lear
hou wast a pretty fellow when thou hadst no need to care for her frowning. Now thou art an O without a figure. I am better than thou art now. I am a fool. Thou art nothing.(to GONERIL) Yes, forsooth, I will hold my tongue. So your face bids me, though you say nothing. Mum, mum,He that keeps nor crust nor crumb,Weary of all, shall want some.(indicates LEAR) That’s a shelled peascod. fool to lear. no you’re a 0 – nothing no worth. nothign van be made of nothing lear = an empty “peascod”
For you know, nuncle,The hedge-sparrow fed the cuckoo so long,That it’s had it head bit off by it young.So out went the candle and we were left darkling. fool to lear, saying a cuckoo once grew in a nest and then bit the sparrow’s head. the candle went out and now we’re left “darkling” highling theme of what it is to be a parent and child?
Does any here know me? Why, this is not Lear.Doth Lear walk thus? Speak thus? Where are his eyes?Either his notion weakens, or his discerningsAre lethargied. Ha, sleeping or waking?Sure, ’tis not so.Who is it that can tell me who I am? lear = lost who am i?
This admiration, sir, is much o’ th’ savorOf other your new pranks. I do beseech youTo understand my purposes aright.As you are old and reverend, should be wise.Here do you keep a hundred knights and squires,Men so disordered, so debauched and boldThat this our court, infected with their manners,Shows like a riotous inn. Epicurism and lustMake it more like a tavern or a brothelThan a graced palace. The shame itself doth speakFor instant remedy. Be then desiredBy her that else will take the thing she begs,A little to disquantity your train,And the remainder that shall still dependTo be such men as may besort your age,Which know themselves and you. goneril to lear This fake astonishment of yours is just like your other pranks. I’m asking you to understand my point of view. Since you’re old and respected, you should be wise. But you’re keeping a hundred knights here who are so disorderly, vulgar, and obnoxious that our noble court is starting to look like a noisy cheap hotel. They’re such oversexed gluttons that I feel like we’re living in a pub or a whorehouse rather than a respectable palace. It’s shameful, and we have to make some changes right away. Please, as a favor to me—and if you don’t do it for me, I’ll do it myself—reduce the number of your knights a little. Keep the ones who are older, like you, and who act their age.
Is it your will? Speak, sir.—Prepare my horses Ingratitude, thou marble-hearted fiend,More hideous when thou show’st thee in a childThan the sea monster.. Ingratitude is always hideous, but an ungrateful child is uglier than a sea monster!
It may be so, my lord.Hear, Nature, hear, dear goddess, hear!Suspend thy purpose if thou didst intendTo make this creature fruitful.Into her womb convey sterility.Dry up in her the organs of increase,And from her derogate body never springA babe to honor her. If she must teem,Create her child of spleen, that it may liveAnd be a thwart disnatured torment to her.Let it stamp wrinkles in her brow of youth,With cadent tears fret channels in her cheeks,Turn all her mother’s pains and benefitsTo laughter and contempt, that she may feel—That she may feelHow sharper than a serpent’s tooth it isTo have a thankless child.—Away, away!’ll tell thee.(to GONERIL) Life and death! I am ashamedThat thou hast power to shake my manhood thus,That these hot tears which break from me perforceShould make thee worth them. Blasts and fogs upon thee!Th’ untented woundings of a father’s cursePierce every sense about thee! Old fond eyes,Beweep this cause again, I’ll pluck ye out lear during interaction w goneril. It may be so, my lord.Hear, Nature, hear, dear goddess, hear!Suspend thy purpose if thou didst intendTo make this creature fruitful.Into her womb convey sterility.Dry up in her the organs of increase,And from her derogate body never springA babe to honor her. If she must teem,Create her child of spleen, that it may liveAnd be a thwart disnatured torment to her.Let it stamp wrinkles in her brow of youth,With cadent tears fret channels in her cheeks,Let it be a wicked child who mocks the mother who cares for it. Make my daughter feel—make her feel how an ungrateful child hurts worse than a snakebite.—Now let’s leave. Go!again emphasis on nature. review this quote. again, lear talking to goneril.
who is curan?
war brewing b/w cornwall and albany
Persuade me to the murder of your lordship,But that I told him the revenging gods’Gainst parricides did all the thunder bend,Spoke with how manifold and strong a bondThe child was bound to th’ father. Sir, in fine,Seeing how loathly opposite I stoodTo his unnatural purpose, in fell motion,With his preparèd sword he charges homeMy unprovided body, latched mine arm.And when he saw my best alarumed spirits,Bold in the quarrel’s right, roused to the encounter,Or whether ghasted by the noise I made,Full suddenly he fled. edmund to gloucester.claiming that he told edgar that gods hate men who kill their fathers and break that sacred parent-child bond.
relationship b/w edgar and daughters?
A knave, a rascal, an eater of broken meats; a base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three-suited, hundred-pound, filthy, worsted-stocking knave; a lily-livered, action-taking knave; a whoreson, glass-gazing, super-serviceable finical rogue; one-trunk-inheriting slave; one that wouldst be a bawd in way of good service; and art nothing but the composition of a knave, beggar, coward, pander, and the son and heir of a mongrel bitch; one whom I will beat into clamorous whining if thou deniest the least syllable of thy addition.No marvel, you have so bestirred your valor. You cowardly rascal, nature disclaims in thee. A tailor made thee. kent to oswald – after the whole fight w edmund and edgarwhy is kent so mean saying only his clothes are manly. a tailor made him
kent is put in the stocks. what are the stocks?Good King, that must approve the common saw,Thou out of heaven’s benediction comestTo the warm sun.(takes out a letter)Approach, thou beacon to this underglobe,That by thy comfortable beams I mayPeruse this letter. Nothing almost sees miraclesBut misery. I know ’tis from Cordelia,Who hath most fortunately been informedOf my obscurèd course and (reads the letter) “shall find timeFrom this enormous state, seeking to giveLosses their remedies.” All weary and o’erwatched,Take vantage, heavy eyes, not to beholdThis shameful lodging.Fortune, good night. Smile once more. Turn thy wheel. kent to himselfOh, good King Lear, you’re proving that, just as they say, everything goes from good to bad. (he takes out a letter) Rise and shine, sun, so I can read this letter. Only those who are truly miserable see miracles. I know this letter is from Cordelia, who knows that I’m serving the king in disguise. (looking at the letter) She says that she will have time, now that she’s away from the monstrous conditions here, to find a way to fix things. I’m exhausted. I’ve been awake too long. This fatigue gives me an excuse to shut my eyes so I can’t see myself humiliated in the stocks. Good night, Lady Luck. Smile and spin your wheel of fortune again. (he sleeps)
That’s something yet. Edgar I nothing am. edgar talks to himself wyaing hes gnna disguise himself as a beggarbetter be a beggar than nothing
But fathers that bear bagsShall see their children kind.Fortune, that arrant *****,Ne’er turns the key to th’ poor.But for all this thou shalt have as many dolors for thy daughters as thou canst tell in a year. fool to lear
All that follow their noses are led by their eyes but blind men, and there’s not a nose among twenty but can smell him that’s stinking. Let go thy hold when a great wheel runs down a hill, lest it break thy neck with following fool to kenttheme blindnesseven blind men can smell how miserable he is.
Cry to it, nuncle, as the cockney did to the eels when she put ’em i’ th’ paste alive. She knapped ’em o’ th’ coxcombs with a stick and cried, “Down, wantons, down!” ‘Twas her brother that, in pure kindness to his horse, buttered his hay. fool to learyeah, cry like a dumb housewife who accidentally puts live eels in her pie and hits their heads.
O sir, you are old.Nature in you stands on the very vergeOf his confine. You should be ruled and ledBy some discretion that discerns your stateBetter than you yourself. Therefore I pray youThat to our sister you do make return.Say you have wronged her, sir. regan to her dad”nature” againhe shouldn’t try to rulewhhen he runs from goneril’s hosue and asks her if he can stay w her
Ask her forgiveness?Do you but mark how this becomes the house?—(kneels) “Dear daughter, I confess that I am old.Age is unnecessary. On my knees I begThat you’ll vouchsafe me raiment, bed, and food.”Never, Regan.She hath abated me of half my train,Looked black upon me, struck me with her tongue,Most serpentlike, upon the very heart.All the stored vengeances of heaven fallOn her ingrateful top! Strike her young bones,You taking airs, with lameness!You nimble lightnings, dart your blinding flamesInto her scornful eyes! Infect her beauty,You fen-sucked fogs drawn by the powerful sun,To fall and blister!o, Regan, thou shalt never have my curse.Thy tender-hafted nature shall not giveThee o’er to harshness. Her eyes are fierce, but thineDo comfort and not burn. ‘Tis not in theeTo grudge my pleasures, to cut off my train,To bandy hasty words, to scant my sizes,And in conclusion to oppose the boltAgainst my coming in. Thou better know’stThe offices of nature, bond of childhood,Effects of courtesy, dues of gratitude.Thy half o’ th’ kingdom hast thou not forgot,Wherein I thee endowed.Return to her, and fifty men dismissed?No, rather I abjure all roofs, and chooseTo be a comrade with the wolf and owl—To wage against the enmity o’ th’ air—Necessity’s sharp pinch! Return with her?Why, the hot-blooded France that dowerless tookOur youngest born—I could as well be broughtTo knee his throne, and, squirelike, pension begTo keep base life afoot. Return with her?Persuade me rather to be slave and sumpterTo this detested groom. (indicates OSWALD) lear on his knees, being insincere and begging his daughter to give him shelterhalf my train – took away half his knightsgoneril = serpentthe offices of nature you haven’t forgotten thati gave you half the kingdom.
Why not by th’ hand, sir? How have I offended?All’s not offense that indiscretion findsAnd dotage terms so. goneril to learust because a senile man with poor judgment calls something an insult doesn’t necessarily mean it is one.
I pray you, father, being weak, seem so.If till the expiration of your month,You will return and sojourn with my sister,Dismissing half your train, come then to me.I am now from home, and out of that provisionWhich shall be needful for your entertainment. regan you’re nothing, so don’t act like you’re something
Now, I prithee, daughter, do not make me mad.I will not trouble thee, my child. Farewell.We’ll no more meet, no more see one another.But yet thou art my flesh, my blood, my daughter—Or rather a disease that’s in my flesh,Which I must needs call mine. Thou art a boil,A plague-sore or embossèd carbuncleIn my corrupted blood. But I’ll not chide thee.Let shame come when it will. I do not call it.225I do not bid the thunder-bearer shoot,Nor tell tales of thee to high-judging Jove.Mend when thou canst. Be better at thy leisure.I can be patient. I can stay with Regan,I and my hundred knights. lear to gonerilI beg you, daughter, don’t make me crazy. I won’t bother you. We’ll never see each other again. But you’re still my child, my flesh and blood—or rather you’re a disease in my flesh, a disease I still have to call my own. You’re a pustule, a sore, a tumor digesting my bloodline. But I’ll stop rebuking you. You’ll feel shame when the time is right, and I don’t urge you to be ashamed now. I won’t beg the gods to punish you, or caution you to fear their judgment. Become a betterugh goneril, you’re such a little tumor that i’m unfortunately related to. i’m not gnna curse you b/c you can choose to be better if you want, but in the meantime, i’ll just stay w good ol’ regan here w my 100 knights
Why not, my lord? If then they chanced to slack you,We could control them. If you will come to me—For now I spy a danger—I entreat youTo bring but five and twenty. To no moreWill I give place or notice. regan to lear – just rely on our servants. if you’re staying w me you can’t bring more than 25 servants
Those wicked creatures yet do look well favoredWhen others are more wicked. Not being the worstStands in some rank of praise.(to GONERIL) I’ll go with thee.Thy fifty yet doth double five and twenty,And thou art twice her love. lear to regan/gonerilsays that regan’s “evil” makes goneril look good in comparisonstates that if goneril is letting him keep 50, then she loves him double and he’ll stay w her
O, reason not the need! Our basest beggarsAre in the poorest thing superfluous.Allow not nature more than nature needs,Man’s life’s as cheap as beast’s. Thou art a lady.If only to go warm were gorgeous,Why, nature needs not what thou gorgeous wear’st,Which scarcely keeps thee warm. But, for true need—You heavens, give me that patience, patience I need.You see me here, you gods, a poor old man,As full of grief as age, wretched in both.If it be you that stir these daughters’ heartsAgainst their father, fool me not so muchTo bear it tamely. Touch me with noble anger.And let not women’s weapons, water drops,Stain my man’s cheeks! No, you unnatural hags,I will have such revenges on you bothThat all the world shall—I will do such things—What they are yet I know not, but they shall beThe terrors of the earth. You think I’ll weep?No, I’ll not weep.I have full cause of weeping, but this heartShall break into a hundred thousand flaws,Or ere I’ll weep.—O Fool, I shall go mad! THIS ONE IS IMPORTANT!its not about needing them. but if you have no more than what you need, you’re just “as cheap as beast’s”.if you were only dressing to be warm, you wouldn’t be wearing that “gorgeous” clothing which barely keeps you warm.tears = woman’s weapons grr..i won’t cry! damn it!
Contending with the fretful elements.Bids the winds blow the earth into the seaOr swell the curlèd water ‘bove the main,That things might change or cease. Tears his white hair,Which the impetuous blasts, with eyeless rage,Catch in their fury and make nothing of.Strives in his little world of man to outscornThe to-and-fro-conflicting wind and rain.This night—wherein the cub-drawn bear would couch,The lion and the belly-pinchèd wolfKeep their fur dry—unbonneted he runs,And bids what will take all. gentleman talking to kentlear is fighting w the “elements” “eyeless rage” -related to gloucester going blind
plot:also, lear being crazy and shouting at the storm. king of france sent troops into the divided kingdom
Rumble thy bellyful! Spit, fire! Spout, rain!Nor rain, wind, thunder, fire are my daughters.I tax not you, you elements, with unkindness.I never gave you kingdom, called you children.You owe me no subscription. Why then, let fallYour horrible pleasure. Here I stand, your slave—A poor, infirm, weak, and despised old man.But yet I call you servile ministers,That will with two pernicious daughters joinedYour high engendered battles ‘gainst a headSo old and white as this. Oh, ho! ‘Tis foul. lear to the stomr and also the fool is therenature, i don’t “tax” you – blame you – i neve gave you kingdom, called you children. then why won’t my daughters take my side?
This is a brave night to cool a courtesan.I’ll speak a prophecy ere I go.When priests are more in word than matter,When brewers mar their malt with water,When nobles are their tailors’ tutors,No heretics burned but wenches’ suitors,When every case in law is right,No squire in debt nor no poor knight,When slanders do not live in tongues,Nor cutpurses come not to throngs,When usurers tell their gold i’ th’ field,And bawds and whores do churches build—Then shall the realm of AlbionCome to great confusion.Then comes the time, who lives to see ‘t,That going shall be used with feet.This prophecy Merlin shall make, for I live before his time. the fool “reading a prophecy” in the storm.
This courtesy, forbid thee, shall the dukeInstantly know, and of that letter too.This seems a fair deserving, and must draw meThat which my father loses—no less than all.The younger rises when the old doth fall. evil edmund, exposing gloucester – read this plot part carefully.
Death, traitor! Nothing could have subdued natureTo such a lowness but his unkind daughters.Is it the fashion that discarded fathersShould have thus little mercy on their flesh?Judicious punishment! ‘Twas this flesh begotThose pelican daughters. lear, in the scene where they are looking for shelter in the storm-saying that nothing could’ve lowered to him such a state other than unkind daughters. pelican = bloodsucking daughters – leeches
A servingman, proud in heart and mind, that curled my hair, wore gloves in my cap, served the lust of my mistress’ heart and did the act of darkness with her, swore as many oaths as I spake words and broke them in the swe (….) edgar in disguise taling about how privileged he used to be
Why, thou wert better in thy grave than to answer with thy uncovered body this extremity of the skies.—Is man no more than this? Consider him well.—Thou owest the worm no silk, the beast no hide, the sheep no wool, the cat no perfume. Ha! Here’s three on ‘s are sophisticated. Thou art the thing itself.Unaccommodated man is no more but such a poor, bare, forked animal as thou art.—Off, off, you lendings! Come. Unbutton here. (tears at his clothes) THIS ONE IS IMPORTANTlear talking to edgar in disguise. questioning what “man” is. you don’t owe anyone anything. tears off his clothing, reducing himself to the same state as “poor tom”
His daughters seek his death. Ah, that good Kent—He said it would be thus, poor banished man.Thou say’st the king grows mad. I’ll tell thee, friend,I am almost mad myself. I had a son,Now outlawed from my blood. He sought my life,But lately, very late. I loved him, friend—No father his son dearer. Truth to tell thee, gloucester to kent/fool gloucester relating to lear theme of parent-child relationship
what is the relationship between cornwall and edmund?also, whats with the spy for france thing – is it just something he made up? why? act 3.5
How, my lord, I may be censured, that nature thus gives way to loyalty, something fears me to think o edmunnd to cornwall I’m afraid to think how I’ll be criticized for letting my natural affection for my father give way to my loyalty to you.
they do like a weird littletrial thing for regan and goneril, compares them to dogs, everyone around himis just looking at him in pity – he is going crazy
When we our betters see bearing our woes,We scarcely think our miseries our foes.Who alone suffers, suffers most i’ th’ mind,Leaving free things and happy shows behind.But then the mind much sufferance doth o’erskipWhen grief hath mates and bearing fellowship.How light and portable my pain seems nowWhen that which makes me bend makes the king bow.He childed as I fathered. Tom, away!Mark the high noises and thyself bewrayWhen false opinion, whose wrong thought defiles thee,In thy just proof repeals and reconciles thee.What will hap more tonight, safe ‘scape the king!Lurk, lurk. edgar soliloquy wow, even people ruling over us are going through similar problems. he has gone thorugh something similar to what i’ve gone thorugh w my father –gloucester and edgar are both relating themselves to lear – but for them its just a misunderstanding.
because of edmund, gloucester is treated as a spy, and is tied up. regan pulls gloucester’s beard off.
Because I would not see thy cruèl nailsPluck out his poor old eyes, nor thy fierce sisterIn his anointed flesh stick boarish fangs.The sea, with such a storm as his bare headIn hell-black night endured, would have buoyed up,And quenched the stellèd fires.Yet poor old heart, he holp the heavens to rain.If wolves had at thy gate howled that stern time,Thou shouldst have said, “Good porter, turn the key,”All cruèls else subscribed. But I shall seeThe wingèd vengeance overtake such children. gloucester to regan and cornwall as he is being torturedthen, cornwall says that he’ll set on his eyes and that he does.
All dark and comfortless. Where’s my son Edmund?Edmund, enkindle all the sparks of natureTo quit this horrid act. gloucester after his eyes have been torn out. after losing something, he is seeking love. at this point, it is revealed that edmund is the one that reveleaed him as a traitor.
Yet better thus, and known to be contemned,Than still contemned and flattered. To be worst,The lowest and most dejected thing of fortuneStands still in esperance, lives not in fear.The lamentable change is from the best;The worst returns to laughter. Welcome, then,Thou unsubstantial air that I embrace!The wretch that thou hast blown unto the worstOwes nothing to thy blasts. edgar to himselfhe’s jus saying that now as a poor tom he’s openly hated, but before he was secretly hated and had to live in fear. i’ve sunk so low that i can’t go any lower. there’s nothing more these “blasts” can do, “lamentable change” is worst – when good turns bad. bad can’t get worse! but then a second later it gets worse because he sees glucester is now blind. he admits that if you have the mind to say “this is the worst” you’re not at the worst yet.
have no way, and therefore want no eyes.I stumbled when I saw. Full oft ’tis seen,Our means secure us and our mere defectsProve our commodities. O dear son Edgar,The food of thy abusèd father’s wrath,Might I but live to see thee in my touch,I’d say I had eyes again! gloucester to peasantits fine, i don’t have anywehre to go so i don’t have to be able to see. “means secure us” – having something spoils us.
Here, take this purse, thou whom the heavens’ plaguesHave humbled to all strokes. That I am wretchedMakes thee the happier. Heavens, deal so still.Let the superfluous and lust-dieted man,That slaves your ordinance, that will not seeBecause he doth not feel, feel your power quickly.So distribution should undo excess,And each man have enough. Dost thou know Dover? gloucester to edgar in disguisei’m “wretched” makes thee “happier” “lust-dieted man” will “not see” both lear and gloucester are saying the same thing – that rich men don’t understand the importance of distribution of wealth till they experience poverty.
make sure you remember which sister is married to who. goneril to albanyregan to cornwalloswald is goneril’s servant
O Goneril,You are not worth the dust which the rude windBlows in your face. I fear your disposition.That nature, which contemns its originCannot be bordered certain in itself.She that herself will sliver and disbranchFrom her material sap perforce must witherAnd come to deadly use.Wisdom and goodness to the vile seem vile.Filths savor but themselves. What have you done?Tigers, not daughters, what have you performed?A father, and a gracious agèd man,Whose reverence even the head-lugged bear would lick,Most barbarous, most degenerate, have you madded. albany says to goneril that he can’t trust her because she went against “nature” to rebel against her “origin” you’ll come to a deadly end.
who is the gentleman? what is his role?
what does cordelia mean by they’re invading england out of love?
4.6 is the scene where edgar is tricking gloucester to thinkm that he fell.
Come on, sir. Here’s the place. Stand still. How fearfulAnd dizzy ’tis to cast one’s eyes so low!The crows and choughs that wing the midway airShow scarce so gross as beetles. Halfway downHangs one that gathers samphire—dreadful trade!Methinks he seems no bigger than his head.The fishermen that walk upon the beachAppear like mice. And yon tall anchoring bark,Hadst thou been aught but gossamer, feathers, air,So many fathom down precipitating,Thou’dst shivered like an egg. But thou dost breathe,Hast heavy substance, bleed’st not, speak’st, art sound.Ten masts at each make not the altitudeWhich thou hast perpendicularly fell.Thy life’s a miracle. Speak yet again. edgar to gloucester, tricking him to make it seem like they’re on top of the cliff. and then him to gloucester again after he “jumped” saying its a miracle.
O you mighty gods, (kneels)This world I do renounce, and in your sightsShake patiently my great affliction off.If I could bear it longer and not fallTo quarrel with your great opposeless wills,My snuff and loathèd part of nature shouldBurn itself out. If Edgar live, O, bless him!—Now, fellow, fare thee well. (falls) gloucester as he tries to kill himself but he’s not actually on top of the cliff.
Nature’s above art in that respect. There’s your press- money. That fellow handles his bow like a crowkeeper. Draw me a clothier’s yard. Look, look, a mouse! Peace, Lear to edgarlife’s better at breaking heats than art is
Ay, every inch a king. When I do stare, see how the subject quakes. I pardon that man’s life. What was thy cause? Adultery? Thou shalt not die. Die for adultery? No. The wren goes to ‘t, and the small gilded fly does lecher in my sight. Let copulation thrive, for Gloucester’s bastard son Was kinder to his father than my daughters got ‘tween the lawful sheets. To ‘t, luxury, pell-mell—for I lack soldiers.Behold yond simpering dame, whose face between her forks presages snow, that minces virtue and does shake the head to hear of pleasure’s name. The fitchew, nor the soiled horse, goes to ‘t with a more riotous appetite. Down from the waist they are centaurs, though women all above. But to the girdle do the gods inherit; beneath is all the fiends’. There’s hell, there’s darkness, there’s the sulfurous pit— burning, scalding, stench, consumption! Fie, fie, fie, pah, pah!—Give me an ounce of civet, good apothecary, to sweeten my imagination. There’s money for thee.
And the creature run from the cur? There thou mightst behold the great image of authority: a dog’s obeyed in office.Thou rascal beadle, hold thy bloody hand.Why dost thou lash that *****? Strip thine own back.Thou hotly lust’st to use her in that kindFor which thou whipp’st her. The usurer hangs the cozener.Through tattered clothes great vices do appear;Robes and furred gowns hide all. Plate sin with gold,And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks.Arm it in rags, a pigmy’s straw does pierce it.None does offend—none, I say, none. I’ll able ’em.Take that of me, my friend, who have the powerTo seal th’ accuser’s lips. Get thee glass eyes,And like a scurvy politician seemTo see the things thou dost not. Now, now, now, now,Pull off my boots. Harder, harder. So. lear to glucesterAnd you saw how the beggar ran from the mutt? That’s authority! Even a dog is obeyed sometimes. You stupid cop, stop your violence! Why are you whipping that *****? You should be whipping yourself, since you lust after her and yearn to do the same thing for which you’re punishing her. One criminal punishes another. Poor men’s sins are much more noticeable than rich men’s. Cover up a crime with gold and the arm of justice can’t touch it. But dress the crime in rags and it’s caught easily. Everyone sins. You can’t blame anyone for it anyone, I say. I’ll vouch for that. Believe me, my friend, since I have the power to stop the prosecutors. Get yourself some glass eyes, and pretend to see things you can’t, like a crooked politician. Now, now, now, now. Pull off my boots. Harder, harder. Like that.basically just shows how mad he’s become.
No rescue? What, a prisoner? I am evenThe natural fool of fortune. Use me well.You shall have ransom. Let me have surgeons.I am cut to th’ brains.o seconds? All myself?Why, this would make a man a man of salt,To use his eyes for garden water-pots,Ay, and laying autumn’s dust. lear to gentlemna as he is about to be pulled away to cordelia’s? -“natural fool of fortune” “all myself” – nothingness
The king is mad. How stiff is my vile sense,That I stand up and have ingenious feelingOf my huge sorrows. Better I were distract—So should my thoughts be severed from my griefs,And woes by wrong imaginations loseThe knowledge of themselves. gllucester to edgarwish i was delirious enough to not be aware – beter i were “Distract” to be “severed from my griefS”
O you kind gods,Cure this great breach in his abusèd nature,Th’ untuned and jarring senses, O, wind up,Of this child-changèd father! cordelia to the doctorswwants his wounds to be that the evil of his childrenhas made the king a “child-changed father”
CORDELIA(to LEAR) We are not the firstWho with best meaning have incurred the worst.For thee, oppressèd King, I am cast down.Myself could else outfrown false fortune’s frown.Shall we not see these daughters and these sisters?CORDELIA(to LEAR) At least we’re not the first ones in our position. The road to hell is paved with good intentions. But I’m worried about you, my poor King. If it were only me, I would just wait out my bad luck. Should we meet with my sisters?20 LEARNo, no, no, no! Come, let’s away to prison.We two alone will sing like birds i’ th’ cage.When thou dost ask me blessing, I’ll kneel downAnd ask of thee forgiveness. So we’ll live,And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laughAt gilded butterflies, and hear poor roguesTalk of court news, and we’ll talk with them too—Who loses and who wins, who’s in, who’s out—And take upon ‘s the mystery of thingsAs if we were God’s spies. And we’ll wear outIn a walled prison packs and sects of great onesThat ebb and flow by the moon. coversation b/w cordelia and lear
did goneril drug regan?
Draw thy sword,That if my speech offend a noble heartThy arm may do thee justice. (draws his sword) Here is mine.Behold: it is the privilege of mine honors,My oath, and my profession. I protest—Maugre thy strength, youth, place, and eminence,Despite thy victor sword and fire-new fortune,Thy valor and thy heart—thou art a traitor,False to thy gods, thy brother, and thy father,Conspirant ‘gainst this high illustrious prince,And from th’ extremest upward of thy headTo the descent and dust below thy footA most toad-spotted traitor. Say thou “No,”This sword, this arm, and my best spirits are bentTo prove upon thy heart, whereto I speak,Thou liest. edgar to edmund, saying that he’s deceived eveeryone – gods, brother, father,and conspired againstlala traitor