All language subtitles for King.Lear.2018.HDRip.X264.AC3-EVO

I thought the King had more affected
the Duke of Albany than Cornwall.

It did always seem so to us, but
now, in the division of the kingdom,

it appears not which of the dukes
he values most.

Equalities are so weighed

that curiosity in neither can make
choice of either's moiety.

Is not this your son, my lord?

His breeding, sir,
hath been at my charge.

I've so often blushed
to acknowledge him
that now I am brazed to it.

I cannot conceive you.

Sir, this young fellow's
mother could.

Though this knave came something
saucily into the world,

there was good sport at his making

and the whoreson
must be acknowledged.

Do you know this noble gentleman,
Edmund? No, my lord.

My lord of Kent. Remember him
hereafter as my honourable friend.

He hath been out nine years
and away he shall again.

The King is coming.

Attend the lords of France
and Burgundy, Gloucester.

Ay, my good lord.

Meantime, we shall express
our darker purpose.

Give me the map there.

Know that we have divided
in three our kingdom.

'Tis our fast intent to shake all
cares and business from our age,

conferring them on younger strengths

while we unburden'd
crawl toward death.

Our son of Cornwall, and you,
our no less loving son of Albany,

we have this hour
a constant will to publish

our daughters' several dowers,

that future strife
may be prevented now.

The princes, France and Burgundy,

great rivals in our
youngest daughter's love,

long in our court have made
their amorous sojourn,

and here are to be answer'd.

Tell me, my daughters, since now
we will divest us both of rule,

interest of territory,
cares of state,

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.

Sir, I love you more than words
can wield the matter,

dearer than eye-sight,

space and liberty,

beyond what can be valued,
rich or rare.

No less than life, with grace,
health, beauty, honour,

as much as child e'er loved,

or father found.

A love that makes breath poor
and speech unable.

Beyond all manner of so much
I love you.

Of all these bounds,

even from this line to this,

with shadowy forests
and with champains rich'd,

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 to Cornwall?

Speak.

I am made of that self-metal
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.

To thee and thine hereditary ever
remain this ample third

of our fair kingdom -
no less in space, validity

and pleasure,
than that conferr'd on Goneril.

Now, our joy,

although the last, not least,
to whose young love

the vines of France and milk of
Burgundy strive to be interess'd...

..what can you say to draw a third
more opulent than your sisters?

Speak.

Nothing, my lord.

Nothing!

Nothing.

Nothing will come of nothing.

Speak again.

Unhappy that I am, I cannot
heave my heart into my mouth.

I love Your Majesty according
to my bond. No more, nor less.

How, now, Cordelia,
mend your speech a little,

lest you may mar your fortunes.

Ay, my good lord, you have
begot me, bred me, loved me.

I return those duties back
as are right fit -

obey you, love you
and most honour you.

Why have my sisters husbands
if they say they love you all?

Sure, I shall never marry like my
sisters, to love my father all.

But goes thy heart with this?

Ay, good my lord.

So young and so untender?

So young, my lord, and true.

Let it be so.
Thy truth, then, be thy dower.

Here I disclaim
all my paternal care,

and there's a stranger to my heart
and me hold thee from this for ever.

Good, my liege...

Peace, Kent! Come not between
the dragon and his wrath.

I loved her most and thought to
set my rest on her kind nursery.

Hence, and avoid my sight!

Call France! Who stirs?
Call Burgundy!

Cornwall and Albany,
with my two daughters' dowers,
digest this third.

Let pride, which she calls
plainness,

marry her.

I do invest you jointly
with my power, pre-eminence,

and all the large effects
that troop with majesty.

Ourself, by monthly course,
with reservation of...

..an hundred knights,
by you to be sustain'd,

shall our abode make with you
by due turns.

Only we still retain the name...

..and all the additions to a king.

The sway, revenue, execution of
the rest. Beloved sons, be yours.

Royal Lear, whom I have ever
honour'd as my king,

as my great patron
thought on in my prayers...

The bow is bent and drawn,
make from the shaft.

Let it fall rather, though the fork
invade the region of my heart.

Be Kent unmannerly,
when Lear is mad.

What wilt thou do, old man?

Think'st thou that duty shall
have dread to speak
when power to flattery bows?

Kent, on thy life, no more.

My life I never held but as a pawn
to wage against thy enemies.

Out of my sight!
Dear sir, forbear.

See better, Lear. Now, by Apollo...

Now, by Apollo, King?
Thou swear'st thy gods in vain.

I'll tell thee, thou dost evil!

Hear me, recreant.

On thine allegiance, hear me!

Thou hast sought to make us break
our vows, which we durst never yet.

Our potency made good,
take thy reward.

Five days we do allot thee

for provision to shield
thee from diseases of the world,

and on the sixth to turn thy
hated back upon our kingdom.

If, on the tenth day following,
thy banish'd trunk be found

in our dominions,
the moment is thy death.

Away, by Jupiter!

This shall not be revoked!

Here's France and Burgundy,
my noble lord.

My noble lord.

My lord of Burgundy.

We first address towards you,

who with this king hath
rivall'd for our daughter,

what in the least will you require
in present dower with her

or cease your quest of love?

Most Royal Majesty, I crave no more
than hath Your Highness offer'd,

nor will you tender less.

Right noble Burgundy, when she was
dear to us, we did hold her so,

but now her price is fall'n.

Sir, there she stands.

If aught within that little seeming
substance, or all of it,

with our displeasure pieced,
and nothing more,

may fitly like your grace,
she's there, she is yours.

I know no answer.

Will you, with those
infirmities she owes,

unfriended, new-adopted to our hate,
dower'd with our curse

and stranger'd with our oath,
take her or leave her?

Pardon me, royal sir, election
makes not up in such conditions.

Then leave her, sir,

for, by the power that made me,
I tell you all her wealth.

For you, great king,

I would not from your love make such
a stray to match you where I hate...

I yet beseech Your Majesty, that you
make it known it is no vicious blot,

murder or foulness, no unchaste
action or dishonour'd step,

that hath deprived me
of your grace and favour.

Better thou hadst not been born...

..than not to have pleased me
better.

My lord of Burgundy, what say you
to the lady? Will you have her?

Give but that portion
which yourself proposed

and I will make Cordelia
Duchess of Burgundy.

Nothing. I have sworn, I am firm.

I am sorry, then.

You have so lost a father

that you must lose a husband.

Peace be with Burgundy.

Since that respects and fortunes are
his love, I shall not be his wife.

Fairest Cordelia...

thee and thy virtues
here I seize upon.

Thou hast her, king.

Let her be thine...

for we have no such daughter,

nor shall ever see
that face of hers again.

Therefore be gone without
our grace, our love...

..our benison.

Come!

Bid farewell to your sisters.

Love well our father.
Prescribe not us our duty.

Let your study be
to content your lord

who hath received you
at fortune's alms.

I think our father
will hence tonight.

That's most certain, and with you.
Next month with us.

You see how full of changes
his age is.

He always loved our sister most and
with what poor judgment he hath now
cast her off appears too grossly.

'Tis the infirmity of his age,

yet he hath ever
but slenderly known himself.

The best and soundest of his time
hath been but rash.

If our father carry authority
with such dispositions as this,

it will but offend us.
We shall further think on't.

We must do something and in the
heat. Pray, let us hit together.

Thou, Nature, art my goddess.

To thy law, my services are bound.

Why "bastard"? Wherefore "base"?

When my dimensions are as well
compact, my mind as generous

and my shape as true
as honest madam's issue?

Why brand they me with "base"?

With "baseness"?

"Bastardy"?

Legitimate Edgar,

I must have your land.

Well, my legiti-mate.

Edmund the base...

shall top the legitimate.

Excuse me.

Edmund, how now! What news?

I know no news, my lord.
What paper were you reading?

Nothing, my lord. No?

What needed, then, that terrible
dispatch of it into your pocket?

The quality of nothing hath not
such need to hide itself.

Let's see. Come, if it be nothing,
I shall not need spectacles.

I beseech you, sir, pardon me.

It is a letter from my brother
that I have not all o'er-read

and for so much as I have perused,

I find it not fit
for your o'er-looking.

Give me the letter, sir.

"If our father...

"would sleep till I waked him,

"you should enjoy half his revenue
for ever

"and live the beloved
of your brother, Edgar."

Sleep till I waked him?

Enjoy half his revenue? My son
Edgar? When came this to you?

Who brought it?
I found it in my room.

You know the character
to be your brother's?

If the matter were good, my lord,
I durst swear it were his,

but, in respect of that,
I would fain think it were not.

It is his. It is his hand, my lord,

but I hope his heart
is not in the contents.

Hath he never before sounded you
in this business? Never, my lord,

but I have heard him oft
maintain it to be fit

that sons at perfect age
and fathers declined,

the father should be as ward to the
son and the son manage his revenue.

O, villain!

Villain!
His very opinion in the letter.

Go seek him. Where is he?
I do not well know, my lord.

These late eclipses of the sun
and moon portend no good to us.

We have seen the best of our time.

Find out this villain, Edmund.

It shall lose thee nothing.

Do it carefully.

This is the excellent foppery of
the world, that when we are sick

in fortune, often the surfeit
of our own behaviour,

we make guilty of our disasters
the sun, the moon and stars,

as if we were villains
of 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.

How now, brother Edmund?

Ah, these eclipses do portend
these divisions.

What serious contemplation
are you in?

I am thinking, brother, of a
prediction I read this other day.

What should follow these eclipses.
Do you busy yourself with that?

I promise you, the effects
he writes of succeed unhappily.

When saw you my father last?

Erm, the night gone by.

Spake you with him? Ay.

Two hours together.

Found you no displeasure in him
by word nor countenance?

None at all.

Bethink yourself wherein
you may have offended him

and at my entreaty forbear his
presence until some little time

hath qualified the heat
of his displeasure,

which at this instant so rageth in
him that with the mischief of your
person it would scarcely allay.

Some villain hath done me wrong.
That's my fear.

I pray you,
retire with me to my lodging,

from whence I will fitly
bring you to hear my lord speak.

Pray ye, go!

There's my key.
If you do stir abroad, go armed.

Armed? Brother...!
Brother, I advise you to the best.

I have told you what I have seen
and heard, but faintly.

Nothing like the image and
horror of it. Pray you, away.

A credulous father
and a brother noble,

whose nature is so far from doing
harmst hat he suspects none.

I grow, I prosper.
Now, gods, stand up for bastards.

Shall I hear from you anon?
I do serve you in this business.

Now, banish'd Kent,

if thou canst serve
where thou dost stand condemn'd,

so may it come, thy master,

whom thou lovest,

shall find thee full of labours.

Let me not stay a jot for dinner.

How now! What art thou?

A man, sir.

Oh.

What dost thou profess?

I do profess to be
no less than I seem.

What wouldst thou? Service.

Who wouldst thou serve? You.

Dost thou know me, fellow?

No, sir,

but you have...

that in your countenance
which I would fain call master.

What's that? Authority.

Well, follow me.
Thou shalt serve me.

If I like thee no worse
after dinner,

I will not part from thee yet.

Dinner, ho! Dinner, ho!

Dinner, ho! Dinner, ho!
Dinner, ho! Dinner, ho!

Dinner, ho! Dinner, ho! Dinner, ho!

Dinner, ho! Dinner, ho!
Dinner, ho! Dinner, ho!

Dinner, ho! Dinner, ho! Dinner, ho!

Dinner, ho! Dinner, ho!
Dinner, ho! Dinner, ho!

Dinner, ho! Dinner, ho! Dinner, ho!

Dinner, ho! Dinner, ho!
Dinner, ho! Dinner, ho!

Dinner, ho! Dinner, ho!

Dinner, ho!

Dinner!

Where's my knave? My fool? Eh?

Go in and call my fool hither.

You, sir. You. You!

Sirrah, where's my daughter?
So please you.

What says the fellow there?
Call the clotpoll back.

Where's my fool?
I think the world's asleep.

By day and night he wrongs me.
Every hour he flashes into

one gross crime or other that sets
us all at odds. I'll not endure it.

His knights grow riotous and himself
upbraids us on every trifle.

Say I am sick.

Put on what weary negligence
you please.

If he distaste it,
let him to my sister,

whose mind and mine I know in that
are one, not to be overruled.

Well, madam.

How now. Where's that mongrel?
He says, my lord,
your daughter's not well.

Why came not the slave back to me
when I called him?

Sir, he answered me in the roundest
manner, he would not. He would not?!

Ooh!

Go and tell my daughter
I would speak with her.

Go you, call hither my fool. Sir.

O, you, sir, you.
Come you hither, sir.

Who am I, sir?

My lady's father.
"My lady's father."

My lord's knave, your whoreson dog,
you slave, you cur!

I am none of these, my lord.
I beseech your pardon.

Bandy looks with me, you rascal!
I'll not be struck, my lord.

Nor tripped neither,
you base football player!

I thank thee, fellow.
Thou servest me and I'll love thee!

Come, sir, arise! Away!

Away! Away!

Let me hire him, too.
Here's my coxcomb.

How now, my pretty knave!
How dost thou?

Sirrah, you were best take
my coxcomb. Why, fool? Why?!

This fellow has banished
two of his 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.

Why, boy?

If I gave them all my living,
I'd keep my coxcombs myself.

There's mine.
Beg another of thy daughters.

Don't call me fool, boy!

All thy other titles
thou hast given away.

That thou wast born with.

This is not altogether fool,
my lord.

# Fools had ne'er less wit in a
year

# For wise men are grown foppish

# They know not how their wits
to wear

# Their manners are so apish... #

When were you wont to be
so full of songs, sirrah?

I have used it, nuncle, ever since
thou madest thy daughters
thy mothers.

Sirrah, we'll have you whipped.

I marvel what kin
thou and thy daughters are.

They'll have me whipped
for speaking true,

thou'lt have me whipped for lying.

And sometimes I am whipped
for holding my peace.

I had rather be any kind o' thing
than a fool...

..and yet I would not be thee,
nuncle.

Thou hast pared thy wit
on both sides

and left nothing in the middle.

Here comes one of the parings.

How now, daughter.

What makes that frontlet on?

Methinks you are too much
of late in the frown.

Not only, sir, this,
your all-licensed fool,

but other of your insolent retinue
do hourly carp and quarrel,

breaking forth in rank
and not-to-be endured riots.

Sir, I had thought, by making
this well known unto you,

to have found a safe redress,
but now grow fearful

by what yourself too late
have spoke and done.

That you protect this course
and put it on by your allowance.

Are you our daughter?

I would you would make use
of your good wisdom,

whereof I know you are fraught,
and put away these dispositions

which of late transport you
from what you rightly are.

May not an ass know
when the cart draws the horse?

Whoop, Jug! I love thee.

Does any here know me?!

This is not Lear?

Doth Lear walk thus? Speak thus?

Where are his eyes?

Either his notion weakens,
his discernings are lethargied...

Ha! Waking?

'Tis not so.

Who is it that can tell me who I am?

Lear's shadow.

Your name, fair gentlewoman?

This admiration, sir, is much of
the savour of other your new pranks.

I do beseech you to understand
my purposes aright,

as you are old and reverend,
should be wise.

Here do you keep a hundred
knights and squires.

Men so disorder'd, so debosh'd
and bold, that this, our court,

infected with their manners,
shows like a riotous inn.

Be then desired by her, that else
will take the thing she begs,

a little to disquantity your train.

Darkness and devils!

Call my train together.

Degenerate bastard, I'll not trouble
thee! Yet have I left a daughter.

You strike my people
and your disorder'd rabble

make servants of their betters.
Woe, that too late repents!

O, you, sir, are you come?
Is it your will? Speak, sir.

Pray, sir, be patient.

O, most small fault.

How ugly didst thou
in Cordelia show!

Just like an engine,
wrench'd my frame of nature

from the fix'd place
drew from heart all love...

..and added to the gall.

O Lear, Lear, Lear,
beat at this gate

that let thy folly in
and thy dear judgment out!

Go! Go, my people!

My lord, I am guiltless, as I am
ignorant of what hath moved you.

It may be so, my lord.

Hear, nature, hear.
Dear goddess, hear!

Suspend thy purpose

if thou didst intend to make
this creature fruitful!

Into her womb convey sterility!

Dry up in her the organs
of increase

and from her derogate body never
spring a babe to honour her!

If she must teem,
create her child of spleen,

that it may live and be a thwart
disnatured torment to her!

Let it stamp wrinkles
in her brow of youth,

that she may feel how sharper
than a serpent's tooth it is

to have a thankless child!

Away! Away!

Now, gods that we adore,
whereof comes this?

Never afflict yourself
to know more of it.

But let his...disposition...

have that scope
that dotage gives it.

O, you, you, sirrah!

What, 50 of my followers at a clap
within a fortnight!?

What's the matter, sir?
I'll tell thee, life and death!

I am ashamed that thou hast power
to shake my manhood thus.

Blasts and fogs upon thee!

The untented woundings of a father's
curse pierce every sense about thee!

Let it be so,
yet have I left a daughter

who I'm sure is kind
and comfortable.

When she shall hear this of thee,

with her nails she'll flay
thy wolvish visage.

Thou shalt find
that I'll resume the shape

which thou dost think
I have cast off for ever.

Thou shalt, I warrant thee.

Away! Away!

Do you mark that?

I can't be so partial, Goneril,
to the great love I bear you.

Pray you, content.

Oswald!

You, sir, more knave than fool,
after your master.

Nuncle Lear! Nuncle Lear! Tarry...

A hundred knights!

Take the fool with thee!

'Tis politic and safe to let him
keep at point a hundred knights.

Yes, that, on every dream,

each buzz, each fancy,
each complaint, dislike,

he may enguard his dotage with their
powers and hold our lives in mercy!

Oswald, I say!

Well, you may fear too far.

Safer than trust too far.

I know his heart.

What he hath utter'd,
I have writ my sister

if she sustain him
and his hundred knights

when I have show'd the unfitness.

Oswald, away to my sister. Inform
her full of my particular fear,

and thereto add such reasons
of your own as may compact it more.

Get you gone and hasten your return.

If a man's brains were in's heels,
were't not in danger of kibes?

Ay, boy.

Then, I prithee, be merry.

Thy wit shall not go slip-shod.
Oy, oy.

Ha!

Thou canst tell why one's nose
stands in the middle on's face?

No.

Why, to keep one's eyes
of either side's nose.

That what a man cannot smell out,
he may spy into.

Oy, oy.

I did her wrong.

Canst tell how an oyster
makes his shell?

No.

Nor I neither.

But I can tell why a snail
has a house.

Why? Why, to put its head in.

Not to give it away to his daughters
and leave his horns without a case.

I will forget my nature.

I'm so kind a father.

The reason why the seven stars
are no more than seven

is a pretty reason.

Because they are not eight?

Yes, indeed.

Thou wouldst make a good fool.

Monster ingratitude.

If thou wert my fool, nuncle,

I'd have thee beaten
for being old before thy time.

How's that?

Thou shouldst not have been old
till thou hadst been wise.

O, let me not be mad.

Not mad, sweet heavens.

Keep me in temper.

I would not be mad.

Ready, my lord.

Come, boy.

Brother, a word.

Descend, brother, I say!

O, sir, fly this place. Intelligence
is given where you are hid.

The Duke of Cornwall
is coming hither now in haste
and Regan with him.

Have you nothing said upon
his party? I am sure of it!

Shh! Not a word.

I hear my father coming.

Help! Help!

Fly, my brother. Fly.

Help!

Help!

I have seen drunkards
do more than this in sport.

Aargh.

Help!

Help!

Take your positions!

Where is the villain?
Here stood he in the dark,

mumbling of wicked charms,

conjuring the moon
to stand auspicious mistress.

But where is he? Look, sir, I bleed.
Where is the villain, Edmund?

Fled this way, sir, when by no
means he could... Pursue him, ho!

Go after!

By no means what? Persuade me to
the murder of Your Lordship.

Not in this land
shall he remain uncaught.

And found, dispatched.

It is the duke.

All ports I'll bar,
the duke must grant me that.

The villain shalt not 'scape.

And of my land,
loyal and natural boy,

I'll work the means
to make thee capable.

How dost, my lord?

O, madam, my old heart is crack'd.
It's crack'd!

What, did my father's godson
seek your life?

O, lady, lady,
shame would have it hid.

Was he not companion with
the riotous knights
that tended upon my father?

I know not, madam.
'Tis too bad, too bad.

Yes, madam, he was of that consort.
No marvel, then,
though he were ill affected.

I have this present evening from my
sister been well inform'd of them

and with such cautions that if
they come to sojourn at my house,

I'll not be there.
Nor I, assure thee, Regan.

Edmund, I hear you've shown
your father a child-like office.

'Twas my duty, sir.

Received this hurt you see
striving to apprehend him.

Is he pursued? Ay, my good lord.

If he be taken, he shall never
more be fear'd of doing harm.

For you, Edmund, natures of such
deep trust we shall much need.

You we first seize on. I shall serve
you, sir, truly, however else.

For him I thank your grace. You
know not why we came to visit you?

Thus out of season,
threading dark-eyed night.

Occasions, noble Gloucester,
of some poise,

wherein we must have use
of your advice.

Find him!

Arrgh!

Art of this house, friend? Ay.

Where may we stop? I' the mire.

I prithee, if thou lovest me,
tell me. I love thee not.

Why, then, I care not for thee.

If I had thee in a ring,
I'd make thee care for me.

Why dost thou use me thus? I know
thee not. Fellow, I know thee.

What dost thou know me for?

A knave, a rascal,

a base, proud, shallow, beggarly,

three-suited, hundred-pound,

filthy, worsted-stocking knave.

Why, what a monstrous fellow
art thou, thus to rail on one

that neither knowns thee
nor is known of thee!

What a brazen-faced varlet art thou
to deny thou knowest me!

I tripped up thy heels
and beat thee before the king?

I'll make a sop of the moonlight
of you, you whoreson!

Away!
I have nothing to do with thee.

You rascal!
You take the puppet's part

against the royalty
of her father, you rogue?!

Help! Murder! Help!

Stand, you rogue!

Help!

Help! How now! What's the matter?

With you, goodman boy!

If you please, come, I'll beat ye!
Come on, young master!

What's the matter here?
Keep peace upon your lives.

He dies that strikes again.

What is the matter? The messengers
from our sister and the king.

What is your difference? Speak.

Sir, this ancient ruffian,
whose life I have spared...

You whoreson zed!
You unnecessary letter!

Peace, sirrah!
Know you no reverence?

Yes, sir, but anger hath
a privilege. Why art thou angry?

That such a slave as this
should walk the world,

who wears no honesty.
What is his fault?

His countenance likes me not.

No more, perchance, does mine,
nor his, nor hers.

I have seen better faces in my time

than stands on any shoulder that
I see before me at this instant.

You stubborn, ancient knave.

We'll teach you.

I serve the King!

Thy have life and honour.

Here shall he stay till...noon.

Till noon?! Till night, my lord.

Why, madam, if I was your father's
dog, you should not use me so.

Sir, being his knave, I will.

This is a fellow of the self-same
colour our sister speaks of.

The King, his master, must take it
ill, that he's so slightly valued

in his messenger,
should have him thus restrain'd.

I'll answer that.

My sister may receive it
much more worse,

to have her gentleman abused,
assaulted.

Come, away.

Dismissed!

I am sorry for thee, friend.
I'll entreat for thee.

Pray, do not, sir.

The duke's to blame in this.
'Twill be ill taken.

Arrgh!

I heard myself...

proclaim'd.

Edgar!

Edgar.

I...

nothing...

..am.

Ha, ha!

He wears cruel garters.

Hail to thee, noble master.

What's he that hath so much thy
place mistook to set thee here?

It is both he and she -
your son and daughter.

No. Yes.

No, I say. I say, yea.

By Jupiter, I swear, no.
By Juno, I swear, ay.

Where is this daughter?

Give me my servant forth!

Deny to speak with me?

They are sick? They are weary?

They have travell'd all the night?

Ha!

Mere fetches...

..the images of revolt
and flying off.

Fetch me a better answer.

Go tell the duke and his wife
I'd speak with them now, presently.

Bid them come forth and hear me.

At their chamber-door, I'll beat
the drum till it cry sleep to death.

I would have all well betwixt you.

O me, my heart, my rising heart,
but, down.

Cry to it, nuncle,
as the cockney did to the eels

when she put 'em in the paste alive.

She knapped 'em on the coxcombs
with a stick,

and cried "Down, wantons, down!"

Good morrow to you both.

Hail to your grace.

I am glad to see Your Highness.

Regan, I think you are.

I have good reason to think so.

O, are you free?

Thy sister's naught. O, Regan, she
hath tied sharp-tooth'd unkindness,

like a vulture, here,
I can scarce speak to thee.

Thou'lt not believe with
how depraved a quality...

O, Regan.
I pray you, sir, take patience.

I have hope.

You less know how to value her
desert than she to scant her duty.

Say, how is that?

I cannot think my sister in the
least should fail her obligation,

if, sir, perchance she hath
restrain'd the riots

of your followers,
'tis on such ground

and to such wholesome end
as clears her from all blame.

My curses on her!

O, sir, you are old.

Nature in you stands...

on the very verge of her confine.

You should be ruled and led
by some discretion

that discerns your state
better than you yourself.

Therefore, I pray you, that to
our sister you do make return,

say you have wrong'd her.

Ask her forgiveness?

Do you but mark how this
becomes the house?

"Dear daughter, I confess that
I am old, age is unnecessary.

"On my knees I beg that you'll
vouchsafe me raiment, bed and food."

Sir, these are unsightly tricks.
Return you to my sister.

Never, Regan!

She hath abated me of half my train,
look'd black upon me,

struck me with her tongue, most
serpent-like, upon the very heart.

All the stored vengeances of heaven
fall on her ingrateful top!

Fie, sir, fie!
Strike her young bones!

You taking airs, with lameness!

You nimble lightnings,

dart your blinding flames
into her scornful eyes!

Infect her beauty,
you fen-suck'd fogs,

drawn by the powerful sun
to fall and blast her.

O, the blest gods! So will you wish
on me when the rash mood is on?

No, Regan,
thou shalt never have my curse.

Thy tender-hefted nature shall not
give thee o'er to harshness.

Her eyes are fierce
but thine do comfort and not burn.

Thou better know'st the offices
of nature, bond of childhood,

effects of courtesy,
dues of gratitude.

Thy half of the kingdom
hast thou not forgot,

wherein I thee endow'd.

Good sir, to the purpose.

Who put my man in the stocks?

Is your lady come? This is a slave
whose easy-borrow'd pride

dwells in the fickle graced
of her he follows!

Out, varlet, from my sight!
What means Your Grace?

Who stock'd my servant?

Regan, I have good hope
thou didst not know on't.

Who comes here?

O heavens!

If you do love old men,
if your sweet sway allow obedience,

if you yourselves are old,
make it your cause,

send down and take my part.

Art not ashamed to look
upon this beard?

O, Regan,
will you take her by the hand?

Why not by the hand, sir?
How have I offended?

All's not offence that indiscretion
finds and dotage terms so.

Sides, you are too tough.
Will you yet hold?

How came my man in the stocks?!
I set him there, sir.

You? did you?

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 provision

which shall be needful
for your entertainment.

Return to her
and fifty men dismiss'd?

No!

Persuade me rather to be slave
and sumpter to this detested groom.

At your choice, sir.

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,

an embossed carbuncle
in my corrupted blood.

But I'll not chide thee.

Let shame come when it will.
I do not call it,

I 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.

Not altogether so.

I look'd not for you yet,

nor am provided
for your fit welcome.

Give ear, sir, to my sister...

..for those that mingle reason
with your passion

must be content to think you old,
and so...

But she knows what she does.

Is this well spoken?
I dare avouch it, sir.

What, fifty followers?

Is it not well?
What should you need of more?

Yea, or so many,

sith that both charge and danger
speak 'gainst so great a number?

How, in one house, may many people,
under two commands, hold amity?

'Tis hard - almost impossible.

Why might not you, my lord,
receive attendance

from those that she calls servants
or from mine?

Why not, my lord? I do entrench you
to bring but five and twenty.

To no more will I give place
or notice.

I gave you all.

And in good time you gave it.

Made you my guardians,
my depositaries.

What, must I come to you
with five and twenty, Regan?

Said you so? And speak't again,
my lord, no more with me.

I'll go with thee. Thy fifty yet
doth double five and twenty,

and thou art twice her love.

Hear me, my lord.

What need you five and twenty,
ten, or five,

to follow in a house where twice
so many have a command to tend you?

What need one?

Reason, not the need.

Our basest beggars are in
the poorest thing superfluous.

Allow not nature more than
nature needs,

a 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' hearts

against their father, fool me
not so much to 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
both that all the world shall...

I will do such things...

What they are, yet I know not,

but they shall be...

..the terrors of the earth!

You think I'll weep?

No!

I'll not weep.

I have full cause of weeping,

but this heart shall break into
a hundred thousand flaws,

or ere I'll weep.

O, fool.

I shall go mad.

It will be a storm.

The old man and his people
cannot be well bestow'd.

'Tis his own blame
hath put himself from rest,

and must needs taste his folly.

For his particular, I'll receive
him gladly, but not one follower.

So am I purposed.
Where is my lord of Gloucester?
Follow'd the old man forth.

The King is in high rage.
Whither is he going? I know not.

It is best to give him way.
He leads himself.

My lord, entreat him
by no means to stay.

Alack, the high winds
do sorely ruffle.

For many miles a bout
there's scarce a bush.

O, sir, to wilful men, the injuries
that they themselves procure

must be their schoolmasters.
Shut up your doors.
Shut up your doors, my lord.

Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks!
Rage! Blow!

You cataracts and hurricanoes,

spout till you have drench'd
our steeples, drown'd the cocks!

You sulphurous
and thought-executing fires,

vaunt-couriers
to oak-cleaving thunderbolts,

singe my white head!

And thou, all-shaking thunder,

strike flat the thick rotundity
of the world!

Crack nature's moulds,
all germens spill at once,

that makes ingrateful man!

Good nuncle, in,
ask thy daughters' blessing.

Rumble thy bellyful!

Spit fire! Spout rain!

I tax not you, you elements,
with unkindness.

Then let fall
your horrible pleasure.

Here I stand, your slave,

a poor, infirm, weak
and despised old man.

He that has a house to put's head in
has a good head-piece.

Alas, sir, are you here?

Let the great gods that keep this
dreadful pother o'er our heads

find out their enemies now.

I am a man more sinn'd against
than sinning.

Gracious, my lord.
Hard by here is a hovel.

Some friendship will it lend you
'gainst the tempest.

My wits begin to turn.

Come on, my boy. How dost, my boy?
Art cold? I am cold myself.

Come, your hovel.

Poor fool and knave,

I have one part in my heart
that's sorry yet for thee.

# He that has and a little tiny wit

# With hey, ho,
the wind and the rain

# Must make content
with his fortunes fit

# For the rain it raineth
every day. #

I like not this unnatural dealing.

They've taken from me
the use of mine own house,

charged me on pain of
perpetual displeasure

neither to speak of him, entreat
for him, nor any way sustain him.

Most savage and unnatural!
Go to. Say you nothing.

I have received a letter this night.

'Tis dangerous to be spoken.

These injuries the king now bears
will be revenged.

There's part of a power from France
already footed.

We must incline to the King.

I will look for 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.

Pray you, be careful.

Here is the place, my lord.

Good, my lord.

Enter.

The tyranny of the open night's
too rough for nature to endure.

Let me alone.
Good, my lord. Enter here.

Prithee, go in thyself.
Seek thine own ease.

This tempest will not give me
leave to ponder

on things would hurt me more,
but I'll go in. In, boy. Go first.

I'll pray...

and then I'll sleep.

Poor naked wretches...

..whereso'er you are,

that bide the pelting
of this pitiless storm...

..how shall your houseless heads,
your unfed sides...

..your loop'd
and window'd raggedness,

defend you from seasons
such as these?

O, I have ta'en
too little care of this.

Take physic, pomp!

Expose thyself to feel
what wretches feel!

Help! Help! Help me!

A spirit! A spirit!

What art thou that dost grumble
there? Come forth!

Away!

The foul fiend follows me!

Go to thy bed and warm thee!

Hast thou give all to thy daughters
and art thou come to this?

He hath no daughters, sir.

Poor Tom!

Death, traitor! Nothing could have
subdued nature to such a lowness

but his unkind daughters.

Bless thy five wits.

Tom's a-cold.

What hast thou been?

A serving-man,
proud in heart and mind,

who curled my hair,
wore gloves in my cap,

served the lust
of my mistress' heart

and did the act of darkness
with her!

In the sweet face of heaven!

Dolphin, my boy!

My boy, sessa!

Is man no more than this?

Ha, 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.

Prithee, nuncle, be contented.

'Tis a naughty night to swim in.

Look, here comes a walking fire.

How fares Your Grace?

Poor Tom,
that eats the swimming frog.

Has Your Grace no better company?

The prince of darkness
is a gentle... A-cold!

Come with me.

I have ventured to come
seek you out

and bring you where both fire
and food is ready.

First let me talk a word
with this philosopher.

Good, my lord.
What is the cause of thunder?

Good, my lord, take his offer
and go to the house.

I do beseech Your Grace...

Cry your mercy, sir. Come, noble
philosopher, your company.

Tom's a-cold.

In, fellow, there. Keep thee warm.

No, no, this way, my lord.

With him, I will keep company
with my philosopher.

Come, good Athenian.

Soothe him good, my lord.
Let him take the fellow on.

Take him you on.

Come, good sir. Good Athenian.

Fie, foh, fum,
I smell the blood of a British man!

This is the letter
which he spoke of,

which proves him an intelligent
party to the advantages of France.

Come with me to my wife.

If the matter of this paper
be certain,

you have mighty business at hand.

True or false, it hath made thee
earl of Gloucester. Seek out

where thy father is, that he may be
ready for our apprehension.

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. The
gods reward you for your kindness.

Prithee, nuncle, tell me whether a
madman be a gentleman or a yeoman?

A king!

King!

He's mad that trusts in
the tameness of a wolf,

a horse's health,

a boy's love or a whore's oath.

It shall be done.

I will arraign them straight!

Come, sit thou here,
most learned justicer.

Sit down there, sapient, sir.

Sit!

Now, you she foxes!

How do you, sir?

Stand you not so amazed.

Will you lie down
and rest upon the cushions?

I'll see their trial first.

Bring their evidence.

Thou robed man of justice,
take thy place.

Thou, his yoke-fellow of equity,
bench by his side.

You are of the commission.
Sit you, too.

Let us deal justly.

Arraign her first, 'tis Goneril.

I here take my oath
before this honourable assembly,

she kicked the poor king -
her father.

Come hither, mistress.
Is your name Goneril?

She cannot deny it!

Cry you mercy?
I took you for a joint-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?!

O, pity, sir.

Where...

Where's the patience now that
you so oft have boasted to retain?

The little dogs and all.

Tray, Blanch and Sweet-heart.

They bark at me.

Tom will throw his head at them.
Avaunt, you curs!

Then let them anatomise Regan!

See what breeds about her heart.

Is there any cause in nature...

..that makes these hard hearts?

You, sir,

I entertain for one of my hundred
and I do not like your garments,

you will say they are Persian
and let them be changed.

Now...

..good, my lord.

Lie here and rest awhile.

Make no noise, make no noise.

Draw the curtains.

So...

So, go to supper in the morning.

And I'll go to bed at noon.

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

Here, sir, but trouble him not.
His wits are gone.

Good friend, I prithee, take him in
thy arms. There is a litter ready.

Lay him in it 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 who offer to defend him,
stand in assured loss.

Take up and follow me!

Who alone suffers
suffers most in the mind,

leaving free thoughts
and happy shows behind.

How light and portable
my pain seems now...

..when that which made me bend
made the King bow.

He childed...

..as I father'd.

To-o-o-om.

Away.

The army of France is landed.
Seek out the traitor Gloucester.

Go seek the traitor Gloucester.

Pinion him like a thief.

Bring him before us.

Hang him instantly.
Pluck out his eyes.

Leave him to my displeasure.

Edmund.

Keep you our sister company.

The revenges we are bound to take
upon your traitorous father

are not fit for your beholding.

Farewell, dear sister.
Farewell, sweet lord.

And sister.

Edmund.

Farewell.

Who's there?

The traitor?

Ingrateful fox. 'Tis he.

Bind fast his corky arms.
What mean Your Graces?

Good, my friends, consider
you are my guests.

Do me no foul play, friends.
Bind him, I say.

Hard.

Hard!

O, filthy traitor. Unmerciful lady
as you are, I'm none!

To the chair bind him.

Villain, thou shalt find... Arrgh!

By kind, gods.

'Tis most ignobly done
to pluck me by the beard.

So white and such a traitor.

These hairs, which thou dost
ravish from my chin,

will quicken and accuse thee.

I'm your host!

With robbers' hands, my hospitable
favours you should not ruffle thus.

What will you do? Come, sir.

What letters had you late from
France? Be simple answerer,
for we know the truth.

And what confederacy have you with
the traitors... To whose hands you
have sent the lunatic king? Speak.

I have a letter guessingly set down,

which comes from one
that's of a neutral heart

and not from one opposed.
Cunning. And false.

Where hast thou sent the King?

To Dover.

Wherefore to Dover?

Wast thou not charged at peril...
Wherefore to Dover?!

Let him answer that.

I am tied to the stake
and I must stand the course.

Wherefore to Dover?!

Because I would not see thy cruel
nails pluck out his poor old eyes,

nor thy fierce sister in his
anointed flesh stick boarish fangs,

but I shall see the winged vengeance
overtake such children!

I'll see't shalt thou never.

Fellows, hold the chair.

Uh?

Argh!

He who will think to live till
he be old, give me some help!

O, cruel!

O, you gods!

Arrgh!

Aaaarrrgh!

Argh! Argh!

Aarrgh!

One side will mock another.

The other, too.

If you see vengeance...

Aarrgh!

Hold your hand, my lord. I have
served you ever since I was a child

but better service have I never
done you than now to bid you hold.

How now, you dog?!

If you did wear a beard upon your
chin, I'd shake it on this quarrel.

Argh!

A peasant stand up thus?!

My lord...

..you have one eye left
to see some mischief on him.

Lest it see more...

prevent it.

Aaarrgh!

Out, vile jelly.

Where's my son Edmund?

It was he who made the overture
of thy treasons to us,

who is too good to pity thee.

O, my follies!

Then Edgar was abused.

Kind gods, forgive me that...

and prosper him.

Go thrust him out at gates
and let him smell his way to Dover.

How is't, my lord? How look you?

I have received a hurt.

O, Regan...

I bleed apace.

Untimely comes this hurt.

Give me your arm.

To be worst.

The lowest and most dejected
thing of fortune.

Stands still in hope.

Lives not in fear.

Who is it can say,
"I am at the worst"?

"I am worse than e'er I was

"and worse I may be yet."

The worst is not
so long as we can say,

"This is the worst."

Away! Away, good friend. Be gone.

Thy comfort will do me no good
at all.

Thee they may hurt. Now, now.

Who's there?

Is it...

It is a poor mad man.

Hello! Where goest?

Is it a beggar man? Mad man.

And beggar, too.

In the last night's storm
I such a fellow saw.

Made me think of man a worm.

My son came then into my mind

and yet my mind was then
scarce friends with him.

I've heard more since.

As flies to wanton boys
are we to the gods.

They kill us for their sport.

Bless thee, master!

Is that the naked fellow?

Ay, my lord.

Get thee away, and bring some
covering for this naked soul,

which I'll entreat to lead me.

Alack, sir, he is mad.

'Tis the times' plague,
when madmen lead the blind.

Do as I bid thee
or rather do thy pleasure.

Above the rest, be gone.

I'll bring the best 'parel that
I have, come of it what will.

Come hither, fellow.

Dost thou know Dover?

Ay, master.

There is a cliff,
whose high and bending head

looks fearfully
in the confined deep.

Bring me but to the very brim of it.

From that place
I shall no leading need.

Stand still!

How fearful and dizzy 'tis
to cast one's eyes so low.

Oh, I'll look no more,

lest my brain turn and the deficient
sight topple down headlong.

Set me where you stand.

Give me your hand.

Whoa!

You are now within a foot
of the extreme verge,

for all beneath the moon
would I not look upright.

Let go my hand.

Go thou farther off.

Bid me farewell
and let me hear thee going.

Now, fare you well, good sir.

With all my heart.

O, you mighty gods...

..this world I do renounce.

If Edgar live...

O...

..bless him!

Now, fellow...

..fare thee well.

Gone, sir. Farewell!

Aaarrgh!

Ho, you, sir! Friend!

Hear you, sir!

Speak!

What are you, sir?

Away, and let me die.

But thou dost breathe.

Thy life's a miracle.

Speak yet again.

But have I fallen or no? From the
dread summit of this chalky bourn.

Look up a-height!

Look up! Alack, I have no eyes.

Is wretchedness deprived
that benefit,

to end itself by death?

Give me your arm.

Up.

So, how is it?

Feel you your legs?

You stand.

Too well...

Too well.

Bear free and patient thoughts.

It is he.

He was met even now,
as mad as the vex'd sea.

A century send forth. Search every
acre in the high-grown field

and bring my father to our eye.

What can man's wisdom in the
restoring his bereaved sense?

There is means. Our foster-nurse
of nature is with pause.

Seek. Seek for him.

Lest his ungovern'd rage
dissolve the life

that wants the means to lead it.

That fellow handles his bow
like a crow-keeper.

Draw me a clothier's yard.

Look, look, a mouse!

Peace, peace.

This piece of toasted cheese
will do it.

I know that voice.

O, well flown, bird.

In the clout, in the clout. Hewgh!

Ah.

Give the word.

Sweet marjoram. Pass.

Goneril with a white beard.

They flattered me like a dog
and told me I had white hairs

in my beard
ere the black ones were there.

To say "ay" and "no" to everything.

I said "ay" and "no", too,
was no good divinity.

That voice I do well remember.
Is't not the King?

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!

Let copulation thrive,
for Gloucester's bastard son

was kinder to his father

than my daughters got
'tween the lawful sheets.

To it, luxury, pell-mell,
for I lack soldiers.

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 sulphurous pit,

burning, scalding, stench,
consumption - fie, fie, pah, pah!

Give me an ounce of civet,
good apothecary,

to sweeten my imagination.

There's money for thee.
Let me kiss that hand!

Let me wipe it first.
It smells of mortality.

Dost thou know me?

I remember thine eyes well enough.

Read thou this challenge.

Mark but the penning of it.

Were all thy letters suns,
I could not see one.

Read. What?

With the case of eyes?!

O, are you there with me?

No eyes in your head,
nor no money in your purse?

Your eyes are in a heavy case,
yet you may see how this world goes.

I see it feelingly. What?

Art mad?

A man may see how this world goes
with no eyes.

Get thee glass eyes
and like a scurvy politician,

seem to see the things
thou dost not.

Now, now, now.

If thou wilt weep my cause...

..take my eyes.

I know thee well enough.

Thy name is Gloucester.

Thou must be patient.

We came crying hither.

Thou know'st the first time
that we smell the air...

we wail and cry.

I will preach to thee, mark.

When we are born, we cry...

..that we are come
to this great stage of fools.

This a good block.

Oy, oy.

It were a delicate stratagem
to shoe a troop of horse with felt.

Shh.

I'll put it in proof and when I
have stolen upon these sons-in-law,

then kill, kill, kill...

Hey, there he is! Lay hand upon him!

..kill, kill, kill...

I am a king, masters,
know you that?

You are a royal one and we obey you.

Then there is life in it.

Come on, you get it,
you shall get it by running!

Where's your master?

Madam, aloft,
but never man so changed.

I told him the French were landed,
he laughed at it.

And of Gloucester's treachery.

When I informed him
he called me sot.

And told me
I had turned the wrong way out.

Back, Edmund, to the troops.

Hasten your musters
and conduct your powers.

This trusty servant
shall pass between us.

Ere long you are like to hear
a mistress's command.

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.

Yours, in the ranks of death.

My most dear Gloucester.

Oh...

The difference of man and man.

To thee a woman's services are due.

A fool usurps my bed.

Madam, here comes my lord.

I have been worth the whistle.

Oh, Goneril, you are not worth
the dust

which the rude wind
blows in your face.

No more, the text is foolish.

Wisdom and goodness to the vile seem
vile, filths savour but themselves.

Milk-livered man, where's thy drum?

France spreads his banners in our
noiseless land, whilst thou,

a moral fool, sits still and cries,
"Alack, why does he so?"

See thyself, devil!

Proper deformity shows not in
the fiend so horrid as in woman!

Oh...

..vain...

..fool.

To both these sisters
have I sworn my love.

Each jealous of the other
as the stung are of the adder.

Which of them shall I take?

Both?

One?

Or neither?

Neither can be enjoyed
if both remain alive.

Tell me but truly
but then speak the truth.

Do you not love my sister?

In honoured love.

But have you never found

my brother's way to the forfended
place?

That thought abuses you.

No, by mine honour, madam.

I never shall endure her.

Dear, my lord,

be not familiar with her.

Fear me not.

She and the Duke, her husband.

Our very loving sister, well bemet.

Sir, this I heard.

The King is come to his daughter,

with others whom the rigour
of our state forced to cry out.

It touches us, as France invades
our land. Sir, you speak nobly.

Why is this reasoned?

Combine together 'gainst the enemy,

for these domestic
and particular broils

are not the question here.

Let's then determine
on our proceeding.

Sister, you'll go with us? No.

'Tis most convenient.
Pray, go with us.

Oh, I know the riddle.

I will go.

Oh, thou good Kent, how can I live
and work to match thy goodness?

My life will be too short
and every measure fail me.

To be acknowledged, madam,
is o'erpaid.

All my reports go with
the modest truth,

nor more, nor clipped, but so.

Oh, my dear father...

..restoration hang thy medicine
on my lips and let this kiss

repair those violent harms
that my two sisters

have in thy reverence made.

He wakes.

Speak to him.

Madam, do you. 'Tis fittest.

How does my royal lord?

How fares Your Majesty?

You do me wrong...

..to take me out of the grave.

Thou art a soul in bliss,
but I am bound

upon a wheel of fire
that mine own tears

do scald like molten lead.

Sir, do you know me?

You are a spirit, I know.

Where did you die?

Still far, far, wide.

He's scarce awake.
Let him alone awhile.

Where have I been? Where am I?

Fair daylight?

I am mightily abused.

I should even die with pity
to see another thus.

I know not what to say.

I will not
swear these are my hands.

Let's see, I feel this pin prick.

Would I were assured
of my condition.

Oh, look upon me, sir,

and hold your hand
in benediction o'er me.

You must not kneel.

Pray, do not mock me.

I am a very foolish fond old man,

fourscore and upward,
not an hour more, nor less...

..and, to deal plainly,
I fear I am not in my perfect mind.

Methinks I should know you
and know this man.

Yet I am doubtful
for I am mainly ignorant

what place this is
and all the skill I have

remembers not these garments.

Nor I know not where I did lodge
last night.

Do not laugh at me.

For, as I am a man...

..I think this lady
to be my child...

..Cordelia.

And so I am....I am.

Be your tears wet?

I pray thee, weep not.

If you have poison for me,
I will drink it.

I know you do not love me,
for your sisters

have, as I do remember,
done me wrong.

You have some cause, they have not.

No cause...no cause.

Ha!

Am I in France?

In your own kingdom, sir.
Do not abuse me.

Be comforted, good madam. The great
rage, you see, is killed in him.

Desire him to go in. Will it please
Your Highness walk?

Aha.

You must bear with me.

Pray you now, forget and forgive.

I am old...

..and foolish.

If ever I return to you again,
I'll bring you comfort.

Grace go with you, sir.

On va chercher toutes cette zones.

Apres nous pouvons deployer
si vous voulez

nos troupes a cote du chateau...

Away, old man,
give me thy hand, away!

King Lear hath lost, he and his
daughter taken. Give me thy hand.

Come on.

No further, sir,
a man may rot even here.

Men must endure their going hence
even as their coming hither.

Ripeness is all.

Right left. Lo right,
lo right, lo right, lo right.

Right here. Lo right, lo right,
lo right, lo right...

We are not the first

who with best meaning
have incurred the worst!

Shall we not see these daughters
and these sisters?

No, no, no, no.

Come, let's away to prison.

Ha, we two alone will sing
like birds in the cage.

When thou dost ask me blessing,
I'll kneel down

and ask of thee forgiveness.

And so we'll live,

and pray, and sing, and tell
old tales and laugh

at gilded butterflies.

And hear poor rogues

talk of court news
and we'll talk with them, too,

who loses and who wins,
who's in, who's out.

And take upon us the mystery
of things...

..as if we were God's spies.

And we'll wear out
in a walled prison

packs and sects of great ones
that ebb and flow by the moon.

Upon such sacrifices, my Cordelia...

..the gods themselves throw incense.

Hmm. Have I caught thee?

He that parts us
shall bring a brand from heaven,

and fire us hence like foxes.

Wipe thine eyes.

The good years shall devour them,
flesh and fell,

ere they shall make us weep.

We'll see 'em starved first.

Come.

One step I have advanced thee.

If thou dost as this instructs thee,

thou dost make thy way
to noble fortunes.

Either say thou'lt do it
or thrive by other means.

I cannot draw a cart
nor eat dried oats.

If it be man's work, I'll do it.

Sir, you have showed
today your valiant strain,

and fortune led you well.

You have the captives who were
the opposites of this day's strife.

I do require them of you
so that we shall find their merits

and our safety may equally
determine.

Sir, I thought
it fit to send the old

and miserable king
to some retention.

At this time we sweat and bleed.

The friend hath lost his friend,
and the best quarrels in the heat

are cursed by those
that feel their sharpness.

The question of Cordelia and her
father requires a fitter place.

Sir, by your patience, I hold you
but a subject of this war,

not as a brother.
He led our powers,

bore the commission
of my place and person,

the which immediacy
may well stand up

and call itself your brother.

Not so hot.

In his own grace, he doth exalt
himself more than in your addition.

In my rights, by me invested,
he compeers the best.

That were the most
if he should husband you.

Jesters do oft prove prophets.
Uh-uh.

That eye that told you
so looked but asquint.

Lady, I am not well,
else I should answer

from a full flowing stomach.

General, take thou my soldiers,
prisoners, patrimony.

Dispose of them, of me,
these walls are thine.

Witness the world that I create thee
here, my lord and master.

The let alone lies not in your good
will. Nor in thine, lord.

Half blooded fellow, yes.
Prove my title thine.

Edmund, I arrest
thee on capital treason,

and in thy attaint
this gilded serpent.

An interlude.
Let the challenge sound.

If none appear to prove upon
thy person thy heinous,

manifest and many treasons,
here is my pledge.

I'll make it on my heart.
There's my exchange.

What in the world he is
that names me traitor,

villain like he lies.

He that dares approach,

on him, on you, who not,

I will maintain
my truth and honour firmly.

Let the challenge sound.

My sickness grows upon me.

She is not well,
convey her to my room.

If any man of quality or degree
within the lists of the army

will maintain upon Edmund,
supposed Earl of Gloucester,

that he is a manifold traitor,
let him appear!

What sayest thou?

Thou art a traitor.

False to thy gods,

thy brother, and thy father.

Back do I toss these treasons
to thy head.

Get up! Get up.

Thou art not vanquished
but cheated and beguiled!

Shut your mouth, dame.

No! Go with her.

She's desperate.

What you have charged me with...

..that have I done,

and more, much more.

But what art thou?

I am no less in blood
than thou art, Edmund.

My name is Edgar...

..and thy father's son.

The wheel is come full circle.

I am here.

Oh, that my heart would burst.

Help, help!

Well, speak, man.

This knife...

This knife came even
from the heart of...

Well, who man?
Speak! Your lady, sir.

Your lady.

And her sister by her is poisoned.

She confesses it.

Produce the bodies.
Be they alive or dead.

Go on.

I was contracted to them both.

All three now marry in an instant.

I am come to bid my King and master
aye goodnight.

Is he not here?

Seest thou this object, Kent?

I pant for life.

Quickly send...

..for my writ is on the life of
Lear and on Cordelia.

Send in time!
Haste thee for thy life!

Bear him hence!

Howl!

Howl!

Howl!

Howl!

Oh, you are men of stones.

Had I your tongues and eyes,
I'd use them so

that heaven's vault should crack.

She's gone for ever.

I know when one is dead
and when one lives.

She's dead as earth.

This feather stirs, she lives.

If it be so, it is a chance
which does redeem all sorrows

that ever I have felt.

Oh, my good master. Prithee, away.
'Tis noble Kent, your friend.

A plague upon us,
murderers, traitors all.

I might have saved her,
now she's gone...

..for ever.

Cordelia, Cordelia, stay a little.

Ha? What is't thou sayest?

Her voice was ever soft, gentle and
low, an excellent thing in a woman.

I killed the slave that was
a hanging thee.

Did I not, fellow?
'Tis true my lords, he did.

I have seen the day,
with my good biting falchion,

I would have made them skip.

I am old now

and these same crosses spoil me.

This is a dull sight.

Who are you?

Mine eyes are not of the best, I'll
tell you straight. Are you not Kent?

The same, your servant Kent.

Where is your servant, Caius?

He's a good man, I'll tell you that.
He'll strike, and quickly, too.

He's dead and rotten. No,
my good lord, I am the very man...

I'll see that straight. ..that
from your first of difference

and decay
have followed your sad steps.

You are welcome hither.

He knows not what he says and vain
is it that we present us to him.

My lords and noble friends,
know our intent.

What comfort to this great decay
may come shall be applied.

For us, we will resign
during the life of this old majesty

to him our absolute power
Oh, see, see!

And...

..and my poor fool is hanged.

No, no, no life.

Why should a dog, a horse,
a rat have life...

..and thou no breath at all?

Thou'lt come no more.

Never.

Never.

Never. Never. Never...

Pray you, undo this button.

Thank you, sir.

See this?

Look...on her, her lips.

Look there, look there.

He faints.

My lord?

My lord...

Oh. Break, heart. I prithee, break.

Look up, my lord.

Vex not his ghost. Oh, let him pass.

He hates him that would upon
the rack of this tough world

stretch him out longer.

He is gone indeed.

The wonder is
he hath endured so long.

He but usurped his life.

Friends of my soul,
you twain rule in this realm

and the gored state sustain.

I have a journey, sir,
shortly to go.

My master calls me,
I must not say no.

The weight of this sad time
we must obey.

Speak what we feel,
not what we ought to say.

The oldest hath borne most.

We that are young

shall never see so much...

..nor live so long.