Welcome, my lord. I marvel our mild husband
Not met us on the way. Now, where’s your master?
Welcome, my lord. I marvel our mild husband Not met us on the way. Now, where’s your master?
Welcome, my lord. I marvel our mild husband Not met us on the way. Now, where’s your master?
Welcome, my lord. I marvel our mild husb
Madam, within; but never man so chang’d.
I told him of the army that was landed;
He smil’d at it: I told him you were coming;
His answer was, ‘The worse.’ Of Gloucester’s treachery
And of the loyal service of his son
When I inform’d him, then he call’d me sot,
And told me I had turn’d the wrong side out.
What most he should dislike seems pleasant to him;
What like, offensive.
Madam, within; but never man so chang’d. I told him of the army that was landed; He smil’d at it: I told him you were coming; His answer was, ‘The worse.’ Of Gloucester’s treachery And of the loyal service of his son When I inform’d him, then he call’d me sot, And told me I had turn’d the wrong side
Madam, within; but never man so chang’d. I told him of the army that was landed; He smil’d at it: I told him you were coming; His answer was, ‘The worse.’ Of Gloucester’s treachery And of the loyal service of his son When I inform’d him, then he call’d me sot, And told me I had turn’d the wrong side
Madam, within; but never man so chang’d.
It is the cowish terror of his spirit,
That dares not undertake. He’ll not feel wrongs
Which tie him to an answer. Our wishes on the way
May prove effects. Back, Edmund, to my brother;
Hasten his musters and conduct his powers.
I must change names at home, and give the distaff
Into my husband’s hands. This trusty servant
Shall pass between us. Ere long you are like to hear,
If you dare venture in your own behalf,
A mistress’s command. [_Giving a favour._]
Wear this; spare speech;
Decline your head. This kiss, if it durst speak,
Would stretch thy spirits up into the air.
Conceive, and fare thee well.
It is the cowish terror of his spirit, That dares not undertake. He’ll not feel wrongs Which tie him to an answer. Our wishes on the way May prove effects. Back, Edmund, to my brother; Hasten his musters and conduct his powers. I must change names at home, and give the distaff Into my husband’s hand
It is the cowish terror of his spirit, That dares not undertake. He’ll not feel wrongs Which tie him to an answer. Our wishes on the way May prove effects. Back, Edmund, to my brother; Hasten his musters and conduct his powers. I must change names at home, and give the distaff Into my husband’s hand
It is the cowish terror of his spirit, T
Yours in the ranks of death.
Yours in the ranks of death.
Yours in the ranks of death.
Yours in the ranks of death.
My most dear Gloucester.
O, the difference of man and man!
To thee a woman’s services are due;
My fool usurps my body.
My most dear Gloucester. O, the difference of man and man! To thee a woman’s services are due; My fool usurps my body.
My most dear Gloucester. O, the difference of man and man! To thee a woman’s services are due; My fool usurps my body.
My most dear Gloucester. O, the differen
Madam, here comes my lord.
Madam, here comes my lord.
Madam, here comes my lord.
Madam, here comes my lord.
I have been worth the whistle.
I have been worth the whistle.
I have been worth the whistle.
I have been worth the whistle.
Albany has been largely passive in the first half of the play — Goneril's husband, present but not acting. In 4-2 he becomes the most clear-eyed moral voice among the play's major characters. His speech to Goneril — 'Wisdom and goodness to the vile seem vile' — has the quality of a man who has been seeing clearly but not speaking, now choosing to speak. His image of 'monsters of the deep' preying on each other is not rhetorical: he understands that what Goneril and Regan have done is not just cruel but socially destructive, that it dissolves the bonds that hold civilization together. Albany's moral clarity is, however, complicated: he was married to Goneril while all this was happening, and his failure to act earlier is part of what allowed the catastrophe to develop. The play treats him with a kind of measured respect — he is not a hero, but he sees truly.
O Goneril!
You are not worth the dust which the rude wind
Blows in your face! I fear your disposition;
That nature which contemns its origin
Cannot be bordered certain in itself.
She that herself will sliver and disbranch
From her material sap, perforce must wither
And come to deadly use.
O Goneril! You are not worth the dust which the rude wind Blows in your face! I fear your disposition; That nature which contemns its origin Cannot be bordered certain in itself. She that herself will sliver and disbranch From her material sap, perforce must wither And come to deadly use.
O Goneril! You are not worth the dust which the rude wind Blows in your face! I fear your disposition; That nature which contemns its origin Cannot be bordered certain in itself. She that herself will sliver and disbranch From her material sap, perforce must wither And come to deadly use.
O Goneril! You are not worth the dust wh
No more; the text is foolish.
No more; the text is foolish.
No more; the text is foolish.
No more; the text is foolish.
Wisdom and goodness to the vile seem vile;
Filths savour but themselves. What have you done?
Tigers, not daughters, what have you perform’d?
A father, and a gracious aged man,
Whose reverence even the head-lugg’d bear would lick,
Most barbarous, most degenerate, have you madded.
Could my good brother suffer you to do it?
A man, a prince, by him so benefitted!
If that the heavens do not their visible spirits
Send quickly down to tame these vile offences,
It will come,
Humanity must perforce prey on itself,
Like monsters of the deep.
Wisdom and goodness to the vile seem vile; Filths savour but themselves. What have you done? Tigers, not daughters, what have you perform’d? A father, and a gracious aged man, Whose reverence even the head-lugg’d bear would lick, Most barbarous, most degenerate, have you madded. Could my good brothe
Wisdom and goodness to the vile seem vile; Filths savour but themselves. What have you done? Tigers, not daughters, what have you perform’d? A father, and a gracious aged man, Whose reverence even the head-lugg’d bear would lick, Most barbarous, most degenerate, have you madded. Could my good brothe
Wisdom and goodness to the vile seem vil
Milk-liver’d man!
That bear’st a cheek for blows, a head for wrongs;
Who hast not in thy brows an eye discerning
Thine honour from thy suffering; that not know’st
Fools do those villains pity who are punish’d
Ere they have done their mischief. Where’s thy drum?
France spreads his banners in our noiseless land;
With plumed helm thy state begins to threat,
Whilst thou, a moral fool, sitt’st still, and criest
‘Alack, why does he so?’
Milk-liver’d man! That bear’st a cheek for blows, a head for wrongs; Who hast not in thy brows an eye discerning Thine honour from thy suffering; that not know’st Fools do those villains pity who are punish’d Ere they have done their mischief. Where’s thy drum? France spreads his banners in our nois
Milk-liver’d man! That bear’st a cheek for blows, a head for wrongs; Who hast not in thy brows an eye discerning Thine honour from thy suffering; that not know’st Fools do those villains pity who are punish’d Ere they have done their mischief. Where’s thy drum? France spreads his banners in our nois
Milk-liver’d man! That bear’st a cheek f
See thyself, devil!
Proper deformity seems not in the fiend
So horrid as in woman.
See thyself, devil! Proper deformity seems not in the fiend So horrid as in woman.
See thyself, devil! Proper deformity seems not in the fiend So horrid as in woman.
See thyself, devil! Proper deformity see
O vain fool!
O vain fool!
O vain fool!
O vain fool!
Thou changed and self-cover’d thing, for shame!
Be-monster not thy feature! Were’t my fitness
To let these hands obey my blood,
They are apt enough to dislocate and tear
Thy flesh and bones. Howe’er thou art a fiend,
A woman’s shape doth shield thee.
Thou changed and self-cover’d thing, for shame! Be-monster not thy feature! Were’t my fitness To let these hands obey my blood, They are apt enough to dislocate and tear Thy flesh and bones. Howe’er thou art a fiend, A woman’s shape doth shield thee.
Thou changed and self-cover’d thing, for shame! Be-monster not thy feature! Were’t my fitness To let these hands obey my blood, They are apt enough to dislocate and tear Thy flesh and bones. Howe’er thou art a fiend, A woman’s shape doth shield thee.
Thou changed and self-cover’d thing, for
Marry, your manhood, mew!
Marry, your manhood, mew!
Marry, your manhood, mew!
Marry, your manhood, mew!
What news?
What news?
What news?
What news?
O, my good lord, the Duke of Cornwall’s dead;
Slain by his servant, going to put out
The other eye of Gloucester.
O, my good lord, the Duke of Cornwall’s dead; Slain by his servant, going to put out The other eye of Gloucester.
O, my good lord, the Duke of Cornwall’s dead; Slain by his servant, going to put out The other eye of Gloucester.
O, my good lord, the Duke of Cornwall’s
Gloucester’s eyes!
Gloucester’s eyes!
Gloucester’s eyes!
Gloucester’s eyes!
A servant that he bred, thrill’d with remorse,
Oppos’d against the act, bending his sword
To his great master; who, thereat enrag’d,
Flew on him, and amongst them fell’d him dead;
But not without that harmful stroke which since
Hath pluck’d him after.
A servant that he bred, thrill’d with remorse, Oppos’d against the act, bending his sword To his great master; who, thereat enrag’d, Flew on him, and amongst them fell’d him dead; But not without that harmful stroke which since Hath pluck’d him after.
A servant that he bred, thrill’d with remorse, Oppos’d against the act, bending his sword To his great master; who, thereat enrag’d, Flew on him, and amongst them fell’d him dead; But not without that harmful stroke which since Hath pluck’d him after.
A servant that he bred, thrill’d with re
The romantic/political triangle between Goneril, Edmund, and Regan is the play's most cynically presented relationship. Both sisters want Edmund; Edmund calculates between them. Goneril's aside in this scene — realizing that Regan, now widowed, is free to pursue Edmund — is startling because it reveals how deeply Goneril is compromised by desire. She is willing to lose a battle (perhaps everything) if Edmund goes to Regan. This is not passion in any ennobling sense; it is a version of the same acquisitiveness that drove her treatment of Lear. She wants Edmund as she wanted the kingdom: as something to possess. The triangle will resolve in Act 5 with extraordinary violence, but its seeds are fully visible here.
This shows you are above,
You justicers, that these our nether crimes
So speedily can venge! But, O poor Gloucester!
Lost he his other eye?
This shows you are above, You justicers, that these our nether crimes So speedily can venge! But, O poor Gloucester! Lost he his other eye?
This shows you are above, You justicers, that these our nether crimes So speedily can venge! But, O poor Gloucester! Lost he his other eye?
This shows you are above, You justicers,
Both, both, my lord.
This letter, madam, craves a speedy answer;
’Tis from your sister.
Both, both, my lord. This letter, madam, craves a speedy answer; ’Tis from your sister.
Both, both, my lord. This letter, madam, craves a speedy answer; ’Tis from your sister.
Both, both, my lord. This letter, madam,
But being widow, and my Gloucester with her,
May all the building in my fancy pluck
Upon my hateful life. Another way
The news is not so tart. I’ll read, and answer.
But being widow, and my Gloucester with her, May all the building in my fancy pluck Upon my hateful life. Another way The news is not so tart. I’ll read, and answer.
But being widow, and my Gloucester with her, May all the building in my fancy pluck Upon my hateful life. Another way The news is not so tart. I’ll read, and answer.
But being widow, and my Gloucester with
Where was his son when they did take his eyes?
Where was his son when they did take his eyes?
Where was his son when they did take his eyes?
Where was his son when they did take his
Come with my lady hither.
Come with my lady hither.
Come with my lady hither.
Come with my lady hither.
He is not here.
He is not here.
He is not here.
He is not here.
No, my good lord; I met him back again.
No, my good lord; I met him back again.
No, my good lord; I met him back again.
No, my good lord; I met him back again.
Knows he the wickedness?
Knows he the wickedness?
Knows he the wickedness?
Knows he the wickedness?
Ay, my good lord. ’Twas he inform’d against him;
And quit the house on purpose, that their punishment
Might have the freer course.
Ay, my good lord. ’Twas he inform’d against him; And quit the house on purpose, that their punishment Might have the freer course.
Ay, my good lord. ’Twas he inform’d against him; And quit the house on purpose, that their punishment Might have the freer course.
Ay, my good lord. ’Twas he inform’d agai
Gloucester, I live
To thank thee for the love thou show’dst the King,
And to revenge thine eyes. Come hither, friend,
Tell me what more thou know’st.
Gloucester, I live To thank thee for the love thou show’dst the King, And to revenge thine eyes. Come hither, friend, Tell me what more thou know’st.
Gloucester, I live To thank thee for the love thou show’dst the King, And to revenge thine eyes. Come hither, friend, Tell me what more thou know’st.
Gloucester, I live To thank thee for the
The Reckoning
The Goneril/Edmund plot accelerates here, and Albany reveals himself as the play's clearest moral voice among the powerful characters. Goneril has contempt for her husband: he is 'milk-livered,' insufficiently ruthless, a 'moral fool' who passes judgment instead of acting. Albany's speech in response — building to his denunciation of Goneril — is controlled rage, and his image of what happens when humanity abandons its bond ('Humanity must perforce prey on itself, / Like monsters of the deep') is one of the play's central structural metaphors. The news that Cornwall is dead introduces two new complications: the power balance between the sisters shifts, and Regan is now available to pursue Edmund. Goneril's private aside at the end — she would rather lose the battle than lose Edmund to Regan — is the most direct statement of her vulnerability in the play.
If this happened today…
A powerful couple returns home after a trip. She's been running an operation against a former superior with a man she's attracted to. She sends the man back before her husband can see them together. Her husband confronts her: 'You know what you've done? You know what's been done?' He reads her the account of a brutal act they were party to. She looks at him with contempt and walks past. Then news arrives: the man on the other side died. And she thinks: his widow might go after the man I want.