I have to read King Lear for my British Literature class, so I’m going to use this to post interesting quotes
Sir, I love you more than words can wield the matter;
Dearer than eyesight, space, and liberty;
Beyond what can be valued, rich or rare;
No less than life, with grace, health, beauty, honor;
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.
See better, Lear; and let me still remain
The true blank of thine eye.
I am sorry, then, you have so lost a father
That you must lose a husband.
Fairest Cordelia, that art most rich, being poor;
Most choice, forsaken; and most loved, despised!
Gods, gods! ’tis strange that from their cold’st neglect
My love should kindle to inflamed respect.
Thy dowerless daughter, king, thrown to my chance,
Is queen of us, of ours, and our fair FRANCE:
And my invention thrive, Edmund the base
Shall top the legitimate. I grow; I prosper:
Now, gods, stand up for bastards!
>>>>>> That whole monologue was interesting with its use of the word base/bastard in so many different lights
Yet nature finds itself scourged
by the sequent effects: love cools, friendship falls off,
brothers divide: in cities, mutinies; in countries, discord;
in palaces, treason; and the bond cracked ‘twixt son and
Old fools are babes again; and must be used
With checks as flatteries,—when they are seen abused.
Have more than thou showest,
Speak less than thou knowest,
Lend less than thou owest,
Ride more than thou goest,
Learn more than thou trowest,
Set less than thou throwest
Ingratitude, thou marble-hearted fiend,
More hideous when thou show’st thee in a child
Than the sea-monster!
O Lear, Lear, Lear!
Beat at this gate, that let thy folly in, [Striking his head]
And thy dear judgement out! Go, go, my people.
A fox, when one has caught her,
And such a daughter,
Should sure to the slaughter,
If my cap would buy a halter:
So the fool follows after.
How far your eyes may pierce I can not tell:
Striving to better, oft we mar what’s well.
Fathers that wear rags
Do make their children blind;
But I will tarry; the fool will stay, And let the wise man fly:
The knave turns fool that runs away;
The fool no knave, perdy
>>>>>> I love his fool/clown characters ❤
I will do such things,—
What they are, yet I know not: but they shall be
The terrors of the earth.
When we our betters see bearing our woes,
We scarcely think our miseries our foes.
Who alone suffers suffers most i’ the mind,
Leaving free things and happy shows behind:
But then the mind much sufferance doth o’er skip,
When grief hath mates, and bearing fellowship.
How light and portable my pain seems now,
When that which makes me bend makes the king bow…
I have no way, and therefore want no eyes;
I stumbled when I saw: full oft ’tis seen,
Our means secure us, and our mere defects
Prove our commodities.
Were’t my fitness
To let these hands obey my blood,
They are apt enough to dislocate and tear
Thy flesh and bones: howe’er thou art a fiend,
A woman’s shape doth shield thee.
Gloucester, I live
To thank thee for the love thou showedst the king,
And to revenge thine eyes.
Sorrow would be a rarity most beloved,
If all could so become it.
Get thee glass eyes;
And like a scurvy politician, seem
To see the things thou dost not.
That eyeless head of thine was first framed flesh
To raise my fortunes. Thou old unhappy traitor,
Briefly thyself remember: the sword is out
That must destroy thee.
O you kind gods,
Cure this great breach in his abused nature!
The untuned and jarring senses, O, wind up
Of this child-changed father!
Was this a face
To be opposed against the warring winds?
To stand against the deep dread-bolted thunder?
>>>>>>> Reminds me of Marlowe in Doctor Faustus (the famous line that Dr. Faustus speaks to Helen – was this the face that launched a thousand ships, etc etc etc)
To both these sisters have I sworn my love;
Each jealous of the other, as the stung
Are of the adder.
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.
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;…
…Say thou ‘No,’
This sword, this arm, and my best spirits, are bent
To prove upon thy heart, whereto I speak,
Thou hast spoken right, ’tis true;
The wheel is come full circle: I am here.
Howl, howl, howl, howl! O, you are men of
Had I your tongues and eyes, I’ld use them so
That heaven’s vault should crack. She’s gone for ever!
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.