’Tis strange that they should so depart from home,
And not send back my messenger.
It's strange that they would leave home like this and not send back my messenger.
It's weird that they just left without even sending my messenger back.
why'd they leave and not send my guy back
As I learn’d,
The night before there was no purpose in them
Of this remove.
From what I learned, the night before they had no intention of leaving at all.
Far as I can tell, they had no plans to go anywhere yesterday.
they didn't plan this yesterday
Hail to thee, noble master!
Greetings to you, noble master!
Hey there, my lord!
hey boss
Ha! Mak’st thou this shame thy pastime?
Ha! Do you make this shame your entertainment?
Wait, are you seriously treating this disaster like it's some kind of game?
u making fun of this mess??
No, my lord.
No, my lord.
No, my lord.
No, my lord.
Ha, ha! he wears cruel garters. Horses are tied by the
heads; dogs and bears by the neck, monkeys by the loins, and
men by the legs: when a man is overlusty at legs, then he
wears wooden nether-stocks.
Ha, ha! He wears cruel shackles around his legs. Animals are tied by the heads; dogs and bears by the neck, monkeys by the loins, and men by the legs: when a man is overexcitable, he wears wooden leg restraints.
Ha! Look at that—he's got mean-looking leg chains on. Animals get tied in different places—horses by the head, dogs and bears by the neck, monkeys around the waist—but men? Men get tied by the legs. And if a man's got too much energy, they strap wood around his legs to slow him down.
ha he's got those mean leg chains. men get tied by the legs when they got too much energy
What’s he that hath so much thy place mistook
To set thee here?
What person so badly overstepped their position as to put you here?
Who in the world thought they had the right to lock you up like this?
who locked u up
It is both he and she,
Your son and daughter.
It is both him and her, your son and daughter.
It was both of them—your son and your daughter.
both of them. your son and daughter.
No.
No.
No.
No.
Yes.
Yes.
Yes.
Yes.
No, I say.
No, I say.
No, I say.
No, I say.
I say, yea.
I say, yea.
I say, yea.
I say, yea.
No, no; they would not.
No, no; they would not do this.
No way, they wouldn't do that.
nah they wouldn't
Yes, they have.
Yes, they have.
Yes, they have.
Yes, they have.
By Jupiter, I swear no.
I make an oath by Jupiter—absolutely not.
I swear by Jupiter, that's wrong.
no way
By Juno, I swear ay.
By Juno, I swear yes.
I swear on Juno, yes.
yes swear on it
They durst not do’t.
They could not, would not do’t; ’tis worse than murder,
To do upon respect such violent outrage:
Resolve me, with all modest haste, which way
Thou mightst deserve or they impose this usage,
Coming from us.
They would not dare do it. They could not, would not do it; it is worse than murder, to commit such violent outrage with such disrespect. Explain to me, with all proper speed, in what way you might deserve this treatment or they might impose it, coming from me.
They wouldn't dare. They couldn't and wouldn't do it—it's worse than killing someone, treating me with such violence and contempt. Tell me fast: what did you do to deserve this, or what excuse do they have for treating someone who came from me this way?
they'd never. this is worse than murder. why did this happen
My lord, when at their home
I did commend your highness’ letters to them,
Ere I was risen from the place that show’d
My duty kneeling, came there a reeking post,
Stew’d in his haste, half breathless, panting forth
From Goneril his mistress salutations;
Deliver’d letters, spite of intermission,
Which presently they read; on those contents,
They summon’d up their meiny, straight took horse;
Commanded me to follow and attend
The leisure of their answer; gave me cold looks:
And meeting here the other messenger,
Whose welcome I perceiv’d had poison’d mine,
Being the very fellow which of late
Display’d so saucily against your highness,
Having more man than wit about me, drew;
He rais’d the house with loud and coward cries.
Your son and daughter found this trespass worth
The shame which here it suffers.
My lord, when I was at their home I gave them your letters, before I had even risen from kneeling to show my respect, came a hot messenger, rushed from his journey, breathless, gasping out messages from Goneril his mistress. He delivered letters despite the interruption, which they immediately read. At that news, they called together their servants, immediately got horses, commanded me to follow and wait on their leisure to answer; gave me cold looks. And meeting here the other messenger, whose welcome I saw had poisoned mine own, being the very fellow who not long ago defiantly acted against you, having more courage than sense, I drew my sword. He raised the house with loud and cowardly cries. Your son and daughter found this offense worth the public shame it now brings.
My lord, when I got to their place with your letters, I was still on my knees when this sweaty messenger shows up, out of breath and practically falling apart, delivering Goneril's messages. They read those letters right away, and suddenly they're calling their servants, getting on horses, telling me to follow them. They gave me the cold shoulder. Then I ran into the other messenger—the welcome they gave him made mine seem even worse. This guy's the one who was so disrespectful to you before, and when I saw him getting treated better than me, I lost it and drew my sword. He starts yelling bloody murder. Your son and daughter think what he did deserves this public punishment.
got there w ur letters. they read them and freaked out. got horses. acted cold. then i ran into that rude guy from before and lost it pulled my sword. they think he deserves it
Winter’s not gone yet, if the wild geese fly that way.
Fathers that wear rags
Do make their children blind,
But fathers that bear bags
Shall see their children kind.
Fortune, that arrant whore,
Ne’er turns the key to th’ poor.
But for all this, thou shalt have as many dolours for thy
daughters as thou canst tell in a year.
Winter is not gone yet if the wild geese fly that way. Fathers who wear rags make their children blind, but fathers who have money shall see their children act kindly. Fortune, that utter prostitute, never opens the door to the poor. But for all this, you shall suffer the same losses for your daughters as you can count in a year.
Winter's not over yet if we're heading that direction. Broke fathers raise blind kids who can't see anything. But rich fathers? Their kids treat them great. Fortune's just a whore—she never lets poor people in. Anyway, you're going to pay for those daughters every day this year.
poor dads got blind kids. rich dads got kind kids. fortune's a jerk to poor people. ur gonna pay for this all year
O, how this mother swells up toward my heart!
_Hysterica passio_, down, thou climbing sorrow,
Thy element’s below! Where is this daughter?
Oh, how this swelling rises up toward my heart! This panic rising in my chest—down, you climbing sorrow, your place is lower! Where is this daughter?
Oh no, I can feel something rising in my chest! This panic, it's climbing up my throat—I need to push it down. Where is that daughter?
cant breathe. panic rising. where is she
With the earl, sir, here within.
With the earl, sir, here nearby.
She's here with the earl.
with the earl right here
Follow me not; stay here.
Don't follow me; stay here.
Don't come with me. Stay here.
stay here
Made you no more offence but what you speak of?
Did you do anything else wrong besides what you've said?
Is there anything else you did wrong that you haven't told us about?
anything else u did
None.
How chance the King comes with so small a number?
Nothing. How does it happen the King comes with such a small group?
No. So why is the King here with just a few people?
nah. why's the king here w so few people
An thou hadst been set i’ the stocks for that question,
thou hadst well deserved it.
If you had been locked in the stocks for asking that question, you would have well deserved it.
If you'd been put in the stocks for asking that, you'd deserve it.
u'd deserve the stocks for asking that
Why, fool?
Why, fool?
Why, fool?
Why, fool?
We’ll set thee to school to an ant, to teach thee there’s no
labouring i’the winter. 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
it; but the great one that goes upward, let him draw thee after.
When a wise man gives thee better counsel, give me mine again: I
would have none but knaves follow it, since a fool gives it.
That sir which serves and seeks for gain,
And follows but for form,
Will pack when it begins to rain,
And leave thee in the storm.
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 would teach you the lesson an ant knows: there is no working in winter. Everyone who just follows their nose is blind, and there is not one nose in twenty that cannot smell someone who is rotten. When a great wheel runs down a hill, let go of it before it breaks your neck following it—but if a big person goes upward, let them pull you after. When a wise man gives you better advice, give me mine back: I would want no one but knaves to follow it, since a fool gives it. That person who serves and looks for profit, and follows only for appearance, will leave when rain starts, and abandon you in the storm. But I will stay. The fool will remain. The knave who runs away becomes a fool. The fool is no knave, truly.
I'd teach you what ants know: don't work in winter. Everyone who just follows their gut is blind, and almost any nose can smell when someone stinks. Don't hang on to a big wheel rolling downhill or it'll snap your neck—but if someone big and powerful is climbing up, follow them. When someone wise gives you better advice, take it back—only fools and knaves should listen to what a fool like me says. The guy who works for money, who's just going through the motions, bails when the storms come and leaves you alone. But me? I'm staying put. The fool won't run away. The crook who runs? He's become a fool. The fool? He's no crook.
ants teach u don't work in winter. follow ur gut = blind. wheel rolling down breaks ur neck. climb w powerful ppl. guy who works for money bails. not me. fool doesn't run. crook who runs is the fool
Where learn’d you this, fool?
Where did you learn this, fool?
Where'd you pick that up?
where'd u learn that
Not i’ the stocks, fool.
I didn't learn it from being locked in the stocks, fool.
Not locked up, that's for sure.
didn't learn it from being locked up
Deny to speak with me? They are sick? they are weary?
They have travell’d all the night? Mere fetches;
The images of revolt and flying off.
Fetch me a better answer.
They refuse to speak with me? They are ill? They are tired? They have traveled all night? Just excuses. These are just signs of rebellion and running away. Bring me a better answer.
They won't talk to me? Are they sick? Tired? Did they travel all night? These are all just excuses—signs they're rebelling and trying to get away. Get me a real answer.
they won't talk? that's just excuses. get me a real answer
My dear lord,
You know the fiery quality of the Duke;
How unremovable and fix’d he is
In his own course.
My dear lord, you know how intense the Duke is, and how unmovable and set he is in his own course.
My lord, you know how hot-headed the Duke is, and how stubborn—once he's decided something, that's it.
duke's intense and stubborn man
Vengeance! plague! death! confusion!
Fiery? What quality? Why, Gloucester, Gloucester,
I’d speak with the Duke of Cornwall and his wife.
Vengeance! Plague! Death! Confusion! Intense? What kind of quality is that? Look, Gloucester, Gloucester, I want to speak with the Duke of Cornwall and his wife.
Damn him! Plague, death, chaos! Intense? What does that mean? Gloucester, Gloucester, I need to talk to the Duke of Cornwall and his wife right now.
damn him! i want to talk to the duke and his wife NOW
Well, my good lord, I have inform’d them so.
Yes, sir, I have already informed them of this.
Well, my lord, I've already told them.
i already told them
Inform’d them! Dost thou understand me, man?
Told them? Do you understand me, man?
You told them? Do you get what I'm saying?
u told them?? do u even understand
Ay, my good lord.
Yes, my good lord.
Yes, my lord.
yeah
The King would speak with Cornwall; the dear father
Would with his daughter speak, commands, tends, service,
Are they inform’d of this? My breath and blood!
Fiery? The fiery Duke, tell the hot Duke that—
No, but not yet: maybe he is not well:
Infirmity doth still neglect all office
Whereto our health is bound: we are not ourselves
When nature, being oppress’d, commands the mind
To suffer with the body: I’ll forbear;
And am fallen out with my more headier will,
To take the indispos’d and sickly fit
For the sound man. [_Looking on Kent._]
Death on my state! Wherefore
Should he sit here? This act persuades me
That this remotion of the Duke and her
Is practice only. Give me my servant forth.
Go tell the Duke and’s wife I’d speak with them,
Now, presently: bid them come forth and hear me,
Or at their chamber door I’ll beat the drum
Till it cry sleep to death.
The King wants to speak with Cornwall; the dear father wants to speak with his daughter, gives orders, demands service, are they informed of this? My life and soul! Intense? The intense Duke—tell the hot Duke that— No, but not yet. Maybe he is not well. Sickness always makes someone neglect their duties which health normally requires: we are not ourselves when our body is oppressed, and our mind is commanded to suffer along with it. I will wait. And I have given up on my more headstrong impulses, to take the sick and weak condition for the healthy state. [Looking at Kent.] Death to my power! Why should he sit here? This action makes me think that this absence of the Duke and her is only pretense. Give me my servant. Go tell the Duke and his wife I want to speak, right now. Command them to come out and hear me, or I will beat the drum at their chamber door until it cries sleep to death.
The King wants to talk to Cornwall; the father wants to talk to his daughter, he's giving orders, demanding service—are they aware of this? My breath and blood! Intense? The intense Duke—tell the hot Duke that—no, wait, not yet. Maybe he's sick. When someone's sick they neglect their duties. We're not ourselves when our body's suffering. I'll hold back and stop my immediate anger, I'll assume he's just unwell instead of being disrespectful. [Looking at Kent.] Curse my authority! Why is he still sitting there? The fact that they've both disappeared like this tells me they're just pretending to be away. Send my servant out. Tell the Duke and his wife I want to talk to them now. Command them to come out, or I'm beating on their door with this drum until they can't sleep.
king wants to talk to the duke. wants to talk to his daughter. they avoiding me. maybe they're just sick. but this looks fake. get my servant. tell them get out here NOW or i'm beating down the door
Lear's speech beginning 'O, reason not the need' is the play's philosophical center. He has just been told, in effect, that he doesn't need any servants because Goneril's and Regan's households already provide for him. His response is not just hurt feelings — it's an argument.
His point: the measure of human life is not bare survival. 'Our basest beggars are in the poorest thing superfluous' — even the most wretched person has something beyond absolute necessity. Strip everything beyond pure need and human life becomes animal life. He illustrates this with Regan herself: she's wearing fine clothes that barely keep her warm. Are those 'needed'? By the daughters' logic, no. But stripping them would not make her more human — it would humiliate her.
The argument is correct. Dignity, ceremony, relationship, the right to have what you've chosen to have — these are what separate human life from mere existence. The daughters' arithmetic (fifty, twenty-five, ten, five, one, none) treats people as if they were inventory. Lear's speech refuses that logic.
But here's the irony the play builds in: Lear is making this argument at the moment when he is about to be turned out to survive on the heath. He will encounter, in the storm, a man (Edgar as Poor Tom) who has genuinely been stripped to nothing. Meeting that man will teach Lear what his speech only argues for abstractly. 'Is man no more than this?' will be his question in 3-4. He doesn't know the answer yet. He's about to find out.
I would have all well betwixt you.
I wish everything was well between you.
I really hope things work out between you.
hope u work it out
O me, my heart, my rising heart! But down!
Oh my heart, my rising heart! But hold down!
Oh my heart, it's racing! I need to calm down!
my heart's pounding. gotta calm down
Cry to it, nuncle, as the cockney did to the eels when she put ’em
i’ the paste alive; she knapped ’em o’ the coxcombs
with a stick and cried ‘Down, wantons, down!’ ’Twas
her brother that, in pure kindness to his horse buttered his hay.
Shout to it, uncle, like the city woman did to the eels when she put them alive in the pie: she knocked them on the heads with a stick and cried 'Down, you wild creatures, down!' It was her brother who, just being kind to his horse, buttered his hay.
Talk to it, uncle, like that city woman yelling at eels she was baking alive—she'd smack them on the head with a stick and go 'Settle down, you wild things!' Meanwhile her brother was being so 'nice' to his horse that he buttered its food.
yell at ur heart like that lady yelling at live eels. smack it down
Gloucester and Servants.
Gloucester and Servants.
Gloucester and servants arrive.
gloucester & servants
Good morrow to you both.
Good morning to you both.
Good morning.
morning
Hail to your grace!
Greetings to your majesty!
Your majesty!
hey sir
I am glad to see your highness.
It brings me joy to see you, your majesty.
I'm glad to see you.
glad to see u
Regan, I think you are; I know what reason
I have to think so: if thou shouldst not be glad,
I would divorce me from thy mother’s tomb,
Sepulchring an adultress. [_To Kent_] O, are you free?
Some other time for that.—Beloved Regan,
Thy sister’s naught: O Regan, she hath tied
Sharp-tooth’d unkindness, like a vulture, here.
Regan, I think you are happy to see me. I know why I think so: if you should not be glad, I would divorce myself from your mother's grave, separating an unfaithful woman. [To Kent] Oh, are you well? Let's talk about that another time.—Beloved Regan, your sister is wicked. Oh Regan, she has tied sharp-toothed unkindness, like a vulture, here.
Regan, I believe you're genuinely happy to see me. I have reasons to believe that. If you weren't, I'd deny that you came from your mother, because she'd have to have been unfaithful. [To Kent] Are you alright? We can talk later.—Regan, my dear, your sister is terrible. Regan, she's wrapped unkindness around my heart like a vulture, sharp and tearing.
regan i know u're happy. if u weren't ur mom was unfaithful. sister's evil. she's got me in her claws like a vulture
I can scarce speak to thee; thou’lt not believe
With how deprav’d a quality—O Regan!
I can barely speak to you; you won't believe the depths of her depraved cruelty—O Regan!
I can hardly find words; you won't believe how depraved her treatment of me is—O Regan!
i can't even speak you won't believe how cruel she is to me
I pray you, sir, take patience. I have hope
You less know how to value her desert
Than she to scant her duty.
I ask you, sir, to be patient. I have hope you do not understand how much her loyalty is worth more than she has neglected her duty.
Please, sir, have some patience. I think you're not giving her enough credit for everything she does—she's not neglecting you as much as you think.
be patient sir. she does more than u think
Say, how is that?
What do you mean?
What are you talking about?
what
I cannot think my sister in the least
Would fail her obligation. If, sir, perchance
She have restrain’d the riots of your followers,
’Tis on such ground, and to such wholesome end,
As clears her from all blame.
I cannot believe my sister in any way would fail her duty. If, sir, perhaps she has controlled the wild behavior of your followers, it is for such good reasons and such wholesome ends that it clears her of all blame.
I can't imagine my sister not doing her duty. If she did control your men's behavior, sir, it was for good reasons and good outcomes—so she can't be blamed.
sister would never fail u. if she controlled ur men it was for good reasons
My curses on her.
Let all my curses fall on her.
I curse her.
curse her
O, sir, you are old;
Nature in you stands on the very verge
Of her confine: you should be rul’d 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, sir.
Oh, sir, you are old. Nature is reaching the very edge of its limits in you: you should be guided and led by someone with good judgment, who understands your condition better than you do yourself. So I ask you, that you go back to our sister, say you have wronged her, sir.
Sir, you're getting old. Nature's almost done with you—you're running out of time. You need someone with sense to guide you, someone who understands your situation better than you do. So please, go back to my sister and tell her you were wrong.
ur old sir. nature's done w u. u need help. go tell sister u were wrong
Ask her forgiveness?
Do you but mark how this becomes the house?
‘Dear daughter, I confess that I am old;
Beg her forgiveness? Do you see how well this suits this house? 'Dear daughter, I confess that I am old,
Ask for her forgiveness? Do you see how ridiculous this looks? "Dear daughter, I confess I'm old,
ask her forgiveness?? look how stupid this looks
Age is unnecessary: on my knees I beg
That you’ll vouchsafe me raiment, bed, and food.’
My age counts for nothing: on my knees I beg you to give me clothes, a bed, and food.
Being old doesn't matter. I'm on my knees begging you just to give me clothes, a bed, and some food.
age means nothing im begging u just give me clothes & food
Good sir, no more! These are unsightly tricks:
Return you to my sister.
Good sir, no more! These are ugly tricks. Return to my sister.
Sir, stop! These are mean tricks. Go back to my sister.
stop. go back to ur sister
[_Rising._] 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 stor’d vengeances of heaven fall
On her ingrateful top! Strike her young bones,
You taking airs, with lameness!
[Standing up] Never, Regan! She cut my followers in half, glared at me, and struck me with her words like a serpent straight to the heart. May all of heaven's stored-up vengeance rain down on her ungrateful head! You contagious airs, strike her young body with lameness!
[Standing] Never, Regan! She took half my men away, gave me dirty looks, and struck me with her words like a snake right to the heart. I pray all of heaven's punishments come down on her ungrateful head! You poisonous air, paralyze her young body!
never she cut my men in half glared at me wounded me with words like a serpent to the heart may heaven punish her ungrateful wretch paralyze her
Fie, sir, fie!
Shame, sir, shame!
That's shameful, sir!
shame on you
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 pride!
You quick lightning, shoot your blinding flames into her contemptuous eyes! Poison her beauty, you swamp-born mists, drawn up by the powerful sun, to fall and destroy her pride!
You lightning, strike her with your blinding light! You poisonous fog from the swamps, ruin her beauty! Let her pride be destroyed!
lightning strike her eyes. poison her. destroy her pride
O the blest gods!
So will you wish on me when the rash mood is on.
Oh blessed gods! You will wish the same on me when your anger takes over.
Oh gods! You'll wish the same thing on me when you get angry.
u'll curse me too when ur mad
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. ’Tis not in thee
To grudge my pleasures, to cut off my train,
To bandy hasty words, to scant my sizes,
And, in conclusion, to oppose the bolt
Against my coming in. Thou better know’st
The offices of nature, bond of childhood,
Effects of courtesy, dues of gratitude;
Thy half o’ the kingdom hast thou not forgot,
Wherein I thee endow’d.
No, Regan, you will never have my curse. Your gentle nature will not make you subject to harshness. Her eyes are fierce, but yours are comforting, not burning. It is not in you to resent my pleasures, to cut off my followers, to throw harsh words around, to reduce my support, and in the end, to lock the door against my arrival. You know better the duties of nature, the bond of childhood, the effects of respect, the debts of gratitude. You have not forgotten your half of the kingdom, which I gave to you.
No, Regan, I will never curse you. Your nature is too gentle to turn harsh. Your eyes are kind, not cruel. You would never resent me or cut my followers off or throw words at me or reduce what I get or lock me out. You know the natural duties, the bonds between parent and child, the importance of respect and gratitude. You haven't forgotten the kingdom I gave you.
never curse u regan. ur kind. u know duty and respect
Good sir, to the purpose.
Good sir, let's get to the point.
Sir, let's focus.
focus sir
Who put my man i’ the stocks?
Who put my servant in the stocks?
Who put my man in the stocks?
who locked up my guy
What trumpet’s that?
What trumpet’s that?
What trumpet’s that?
What trumpet’s that?
I know’t, my sister’s: this approves her letter,
That she would soon be here.
I know it, my sister's horn. This confirms her letter, that she would come here soon.
I know it—that's my sister's horn. This confirms her letter saying she'd be here soon.
that's my sister. she's coming soon
Is your lady come?
Has your lady arrived?
Is your mistress here?
is your lady here yet
This is a slave, whose easy borrowed pride
Dwells in the fickle grace of her he follows.
Out, varlet, from my sight!
This man is a slave, whose borrowed pride from her lives in the changing favor of the one he follows. Get out, servant, from my sight!
This guy's nothing but a servant, getting his pride from her approval, changing his allegiance with every mood shift. Get out of my sight!
he's a bootlicker. get out
What means your grace?
What does your majesty mean?
What do you mean, sir?
what u mean
Who stock’d my servant? Regan, I have good hope
Thou didst not know on’t. Who comes here? O heavens!
Who put my servant in the stocks? Regan, I hope you did not know about it. Who comes here? Oh heavens!
Who locked up my servant? Regan, I'm hoping you didn't know about that. Who's this coming? Oh my god!
who locked him up? regan i hope u didn't know. who's this
If you do love old men, if your sweet sway
Allow obedience, if yourselves are old,
Make it your cause; send down, and take my part!
If you love old men, if your will allows for obedience and respect, if you yourselves are old, then make this your cause; send down and take my side!
If you care about old people, if you believe in obedience and respect, if you're old yourselves, then stand up for me! Come down and take my side!
if u love old ppl if u respect help me. pick my side
The stripping of Lear's retinue in 2-4 looks like a spontaneous escalation — one sister outbidding the other in cruelty. But it was planned. The planning started in 1-3, when Goneril told Oswald to treat Lear's household with contempt and wrote a letter to Regan. It continued when Regan and Cornwall left their home to go to Gloucester's neutral castle. It culminated when Regan took Goneril's hand as the sisters stood together before Lear.
The 'auction' of knights — fifty, twenty-five, ten, five, one, none — has the quality of a rehearsed scene. Regan knows to underbid Goneril so that Lear chooses Goneril, then Goneril can cut below Regan's offer, and so on. The practical result (zero retainers) was the goal from the beginning, in 1-3, when Goneril said 'we must do something, and i' the heat.'
What makes this cruelty different from ordinary villainy is its systemic quality. Neither daughter acts from passion or impulse — they act from strategy. Goneril plans several moves ahead; Regan executes without hesitation. Together they are more effective than either would be alone. The play uses this coordination as its darkest vision of what children can become when they are raised to see parents as power to be managed rather than people to be loved.
[_To Goneril._] Art not asham’d to look upon this beard?
O Regan, wilt thou take her by the hand?
Aren't you ashamed to look at this beard? Oh Regan, will you take her by the hand?
Aren't you ashamed to look at this old man's beard? Oh Regan, will you actually take her hand?
ashamed to see this beard? will you stand with her?
Why not by the hand, sir? How have I offended?
All’s not offence that indiscretion finds
And dotage terms so.
Why not by the hand, sir? How have I offended? Everything that looks wrong to someone in your condition is not actually an offense.
Why won't you take my hand, sir? What did I do? You're in a state where you see everything as wrong, but that doesn't make it so.
why won't u take my hand? ur seeing things wrong
O sides, you are too tough!
Will you yet hold? How came my man i’ the stocks?
Oh, I am falling apart! Will you hold? How did my servant end up in the stocks?
I'm falling apart! I'm losing control! How did my man get put in the stocks?
im falling apart. how'd ur guy end up locked
I set him there, sir: but his own disorders
Deserv’d much less advancement.
I put him there, sir, but his own bad behavior deserved even worse.
I put him there, sir. But his own misbehavior deserved more punishment than that.
i locked him up. he deserved worse
You? Did you?
You? Did you?
You? Did you?
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.
I ask you, father, since you are weak, to seem so. If, until the month I'm giving you runs out, you will come back and stay with my sister, releasing half your followers, come to me. I am not home right now, and I lack the supplies that will be needed for your comfort.
I'm asking you, father—since you're weak, you should act weak. If you wait out the month and then come stay with my sister with only half your men, you can come to me. But I'm not home right now and I don't have what I need to support you.
dad if ur weak act weak. stay w sister for a month then come to me. im gone anyway
Return to her, and fifty men dismiss’d?
No, rather I abjure all roofs, and choose
To wage against the enmity o’ the air;
To be a comrade with the wolf and owl,
Necessity’s sharp pinch! Return with her?
Why, the hot-blooded France, that dowerless took
Our youngest born, I could as well be brought
To knee his throne, and, squire-like, pension beg
To keep base life afoot. Return with her?
Persuade me rather to be slave and sumpter
To this detested groom.
Go back to her with fifty men dismissed? No, instead I reject all roofs, and choose to fight against the hostility of the air. To be friends with the wolf and the owl, driven by need's sharp hunger! Go back with her? Why, the hot-blooded Frenchman, who married our youngest without a dowry, I could as easily be brought to kneel at his throne and beg like a servant to keep my basic life going. Go back with her? Try to convince me instead to be a slave and a pack animal for this hated man.
Go back to her and get rid of fifty men? No. I'll reject all shelter and fight against the very air itself. I'll be friends with wolves and owls, whatever I need to survive! Go back with her? I'd sooner kneel to that hot-headed Frenchman who took our youngest without a dowry and beg him for money. I'd rather be a slave to that guy than go back to her with half my men.
go back w fifty men gone?? nah. i'll fight the air. be friends w wolves. better than begging that frenchman. better than being a slave
At your choice, sir.
That is your choice, sir.
That's up to you, sir.
ur choice
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 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.
I beg you, daughter, do not drive me insane. I will not trouble you, my child. Goodbye. We will not meet again, will not see each other. But still you are my flesh, my blood, my daughter, or rather a sickness in my flesh, which I must call mine. You are a boil, a plague sore, or a swollen carbuncle in my infected blood. But I will not scold you. Let shame come when it will, I do not call for it. I do not ask the thunder god to strike, or tell tales of you to the god of justice. Improve when you can, be better when you have the chance. I can be patient. I can stay with Regan, I and my hundred knights.
Please, daughter, don't make me go crazy. I won't bother you anymore, my child. Goodbye. We won't see each other again. But you're still my blood, my daughter, or worse—you're a disease inside me that I have to claim as mine. You're a boil, a sore, a swollen wound in my corrupted blood. But I won't lecture you. If shame comes, it comes. I'm not asking the gods to punish you or telling them your faults. You can improve when you're ready. I can be patient. I can stay with Regan and my hundred men.
don't drive me crazy. goodbye. ur my blood but ur sick. ur a sore. i won't scold u. ill stay w regan
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.
Not quite, I was not expecting you yet, nor am I ready for you to be comfortably received. Listen, sir, to my sister. Because those who mix reason with your emotion must believe you are old, and therefore— But she knows what she is doing.
Not really. I wasn't expecting you yet, and I don't have what I need to host you properly. Listen to my sister, sir. Anyone who's going to reason with you has to accept that you're old and that means—but she knows what she's doing.
wasn't expecting u. not ready. listen to my sister. ur old so just accept it
Is this well spoken?
Does that seem reasonable to you?
Is that what she really said?
that what she said
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
Should many people, under two commands,
Hold amity? ’Tis hard; almost impossible.
I will swear to it, sir. What, fifty followers? Is that not enough? What would you need more for? Yes, or even that many, since both the expense and the danger speak against such a large number. How could many people in one house, under two leaders, keep peace? It is hard, nearly impossible.
I'll swear to it, sir. What, fifty men? That's not enough? What would you need more for? And honestly, even fifty is a lot when you think about the cost and danger. How could a lot of people living in one house under two different leaders even get along? It's hard—almost impossible.
fifty enough. why need more. too many = too much cost and danger. too many ppl = chaos
Why might not you, my lord, receive attendance
From those that she calls servants, or from mine?
Why might you not, my lord, receive service from the ones she calls her servants, or from mine?
Why couldn't you get served by her servants or my servants, my lord?
why not use our servants
Why not, my lord? If then they chanc’d to slack ye,
We could control them. If you will come to me,—
For now I spy a danger,—I entreat you
To bring but five-and-twenty: to no more
Will I give place or notice.
Why not, my lord? If they happened to neglect you, we could control them. If you will come to me— for now I see a danger—I ask you to bring just twenty-five. I will not accept or acknowledge any more.
Why not, my lord? If they ignored you, we could make them behave. If you come to me—I see a problem now—just bring twenty-five. That's all I can allow.
why not. if they slack we control them. only bring 25
I gave you all,—
I gave you everything—
I handed over everything to you—
i gave u everything
And in good time you gave it.
And at a good time you gave it.
And you did it at a time when you could afford to.
u gave it when u could
Made you my guardians, my depositaries;
But kept a reservation to be followed
With such a number. What, must I come to you
With five-and-twenty, Regan, said you so?
I made you my guardians, my trustees. But I kept the right to be followed by such a large number. What, must I come to you with just twenty-five, Regan, is that what you say?
I made you my trustees. But I kept the right to have a lot of followers. So you're saying I have to come to you with just twenty-five men, Regan?
i made u trustees. i kept the right to followers. ur saying just 25
And speak’t again my lord; no more with me.
And I say it again, my lord. No more with me.
And I'm saying it again, my lord. That's all I'll allow.
thats it. no more
Those wicked creatures yet do look well-favour’d
When others are more wicked; not being the worst
Stands in some rank of praise.
Those evil creatures look respectable when others are more evil. Not being the worst gets some credit.
Bad people look good when others are worse. Not being the worst is something, at least.
bad ppl look good compared to worse ppl
[_To Goneril._] I’ll go with thee:
Thy fifty yet doth double five-and-twenty,
And thou art twice her love.
I'll go with you. Your fifty followers double Regan's twenty-five, which means you must love me twice as much as she does.
I'll go with you. You're offering fifty, which is twice Regan's twenty-five, so you must love me twice as much.
i'll go with you fifty doubles twenty-five you love me more
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?
Listen, my lord. What do you need twenty-five for? Ten? Or five? To follow in a house where twice that many are there to serve you?
Listen, my lord. Why do you need twenty-five? Ten? Five? You'd have twice that many people in the house to help you anyway.
why need 25. u got way more ppl to help
What need one?
What need one?
What need one?
What need one?
O, reason not the need: our basest beggars
Are in the poorest thing superfluous:
Allow not nature more than nature needs,
Man’s life is 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 stirs 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:— [_Storm and tempest._]
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!
Oh, do not reason about what is needed. Our poorest beggars have something more than what is absolutely necessary. If you allow people only what nature requires, human life becomes as cheap as an animal's. You are a lady, if only warmth were fine, why then nature would need nothing that you wear, which barely keeps you warm anyway. But for true need— You heavens, give me the patience I need! You see me here, you gods, a poor old man, full of sorrow and age, wretched in both! If you are the ones stirring these daughters' hearts against their father, do not make a fool of me so much that I accept it quietly. Touch me with rightful anger, and do not let women's weapons, tears, stain my manly face! No, you unnatural monsters, I will have such revenge on both of you that all the world will—I will do such things— I do not know what yet, but they will be the terrors of the earth. You think I will cry. No, I will not cry. [Storm and tempest.] I have every reason to cry, but this heart will break into a thousand pieces before I will cry. Oh fool, I will go mad!
Do not tell me about need. Even beggars have more than what's absolutely necessary. If you strip away everything except what nature requires, human life is no better than an animal's. You're a lady—if all you needed was to stay warm, you wouldn't need any of these fancy clothes that barely keep you warm anyway. But for true need—please, heavens, give me patience! You can see me, gods, a poor old man, filled with grief and age, a disaster on both counts. If you're the ones making my daughters act this way, do not mock me by making me accept it peacefully. Touch me with righteous anger instead, and do not let me cry—no tears will stain my face! No, you monsters, I will have revenge on both of you that will be talked about everywhere—I will do terrible things— I do not know what yet, but the world will fear them. You think I will weep. No. [A storm breaks.] I have every right to weep, but my heart will shatter into pieces before one tear falls. Oh God, I will go insane!
don't talk need. beggars have extra stuff. ppl need more than just survival. ur a lady ur not starving. but i need patience! gods im dying of grief and age. if ur doing this stop mocking me. let me be angry not sad. i WILL have revenge. terrible things. world will fear it. i wont cry. my heart will break. im going mad
Let us withdraw; ’twill be a storm.
Let us go inside. A storm is coming.
Let's get inside. A storm's coming.
let's go inside. storm coming
This house is little: the old man and his people
Cannot be well bestow’d.
This house is small. The old man and his followers cannot be comfortably housed.
This house is tiny. The king and all his men can't fit comfortably.
house too small. too many ppl
’Tis his own blame; hath put himself from rest
And must needs taste his folly.
It is his own fault. He has put himself out of comfort and he must experience the result of his poor judgment.
It's his own fault. He kicked himself out of his comfortable home and now he's got to live with it.
his fault. he kicked himself out. deal w it
For his particular, I’ll receive him gladly,
But not one follower.
For him alone, I will welcome him gladly, but not one of his followers.
I'll welcome him personally, but none of his men.
he can come. not his men
So am I purpos’d.
Where is my lord of Gloucester?
I feel the same way. Where is my lord of Gloucester?
Same here. Where's Gloucester?
me too. where's gloucester
Followed the old man forth, he is return’d.
He followed the old man out. He has returned.
He went after the king. He's back now.
he followed him out. he's back
The King is in high rage.
The King is in a terrible rage.
The king is furious.
king's furious
Whither is he going?
Where is he going?
Where's he going?
which way he going
He calls to horse; but will I know not whither.
He is calling for his horse, but I do not know where he intends to go.
He wants his horse brought around, but who knows where he's headed.
he wants his horse but no idea where he's going
’Tis best to give him way; he leads himself.
It is best to let him go his own way. He knows what he wants.
Better to just let him go. He's made up his mind.
let him go. his mind's made up
My lord, entreat him by no means to stay.
My lord, do not try to convince him to stay.
My lord, don't even try to make him stay.
don't make him stay
Alack, the night comes on, and the high winds
Do sorely ruffle; for many miles about
There’s scarce a bush.
Alas, night is falling, and the strong winds are gusting fiercely. For many miles around, there is hardly any shelter.
Oh no, night's coming and the winds are howling like crazy. There's barely any trees or shelter for miles and miles.
night's coming. winds are crazy. no shelter for miles
O, sir, to wilful men
The injuries that they themselves procure
Must be their schoolmasters. Shut up your doors.
He is attended with a desperate train,
And what they may incense him to, being apt
To have his ear abus’d, wisdom bids fear.
Sir, for stubborn men, the harm they bring upon themselves must become their lesson. Shut the doors. He has desperate followers with him, and we should fear what they might convince him to do, being quick to listen to bad influences, so wisdom demands caution.
Sir, stubborn men learn best from their own mistakes. Lock the doors. He's traveling with desperate men, and we should worry about what they might talk him into doing, since he's easily influenced. It's wise to be careful.
stubborn men learn from their own mess. lock doors. he's w desperate guys. worried what they'll convince him to do
Shut up your doors, my lord; ’tis a wild night.
My Regan counsels well: come out o’ the storm.
Lock the doors, my lord. It is a wild night. My Regan speaks with wisdom. Come inside out of the storm.
Lock those doors, my lord—it's a brutal night out there. Regan's right. Come inside out of this weather.
lock the doors. wild night. regan's right. get inside
The Reckoning
Lear arrives at Gloucester's castle to find Kent in the stocks. He cannot believe it — his first response is denial. Gloucester admits it was Cornwall and Regan. Regan appears, cold from the start; Goneril arrives to join her. Together, they reduce Lear's retinue in a kind of auction of cruelty: fifty knights, says Regan. Twenty-five, says Goneril. Ten, says Regan. Five. One. None. Lear's response — 'O, reason not the need' — is the play's most important speech about what it means to be human. He runs out into the gathering storm. Both daughters remain inside, indifferent to the weather. The storm begins.
If this happened today…
The retired CEO arrives at the second daughter's office to find that his EA has been locked in a storage room all night, per the first daughter's instructions. The second daughter appears and says: maybe twenty people on your team. The first daughter arrives: actually ten. Twenty. Ten. Five. Zero. Whatever you need, you have nothing. The CEO's CFO watches this happen and has no power to stop it. The CEO walks out into a rainstorm with his jester. Both daughters go back upstairs.