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Thou, nature, art my goddess; to thy law My services are bound. Wherefore should I Stand in the plague of custom, and permit The curiosity of nations to deprive me, For that I am some twelve or fourteen moon-shines Lag of a brother? 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 us With base? with baseness? bastardy? base, base? Who, in the lusty stealth of nature, take More composition and fierce quality Than doth, within a dull, stale, tired bed, Go to the creating a whole tribe of fops, Got ’tween asleep and wake? Well, then, Legitimate Edgar, I must have your land: Our father’s love is to the bastard Edmund As to the legitimate: fine word,--legitimate! Well, my legitimate, if this letter speed, And my invention thrive, Edmund the base Shall top the legitimate. I grow; I prosper: Now, gods, stand up for bastards!
Nature, you are my goddess; I am bound by your law. Why should I follow the plague of tradition, and let society’s rules deny me, just because I am a year or so younger than my brother? Why bastard? Why inferior? When my body is as strong, my mind as noble, and my form as true, as any noblewoman’s child? Why do they label us as inferior? as illegitimate? bastardly? inferior, inferior? Who, in nature’s wild and secret ways, create more strength and fiery passion than those in a tired, stale bed, who bring a whole line of fools into the world, conceived between sleep and waking? Well, then, Legitimate Edgar, I must take your land: Our father loves the bastard Edmund just as much as the legitimate: fine word,—legitimate! Well, my legitimate brother, if this letter succeeds, and my plan works, Edmund the base will rise above the legitimate. I will grow; I will thrive: Now, gods, support the bastards!
Kent banish’d thus! and France in choler parted! And the king gone to-night! subscribed his power! Confined to exhibition! All this done Upon the gad! Edmund, how now! what news?
Kent banished like this! and France angrily separated! And the king gone tonight! he signed his authority! Confined to a show of power! All this happened in a rush! Edmund, what’s going on? Any news?
So please your lordship, none.
Nothing, my lord.
Why so earnestly seek you to put up that letter?
Why are you so eager to hide that letter?
I know no news, my lord.
I don’t know anything, my lord.
What paper were you reading?
What were you reading?
Nothing, my lord.
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.
Nothing? Then why did you quickly shove it into your pocket? Things that are truly nothing don’t need to be hidden. Let me see it: come on, if it’s nothing, I won’t need my glasses.
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.
I beg you, sir, forgive me: it’s a letter from my brother that I haven’t fully read; and from what I have read, I don’t think it’s something you should look at.
Give me the letter, sir.
Give me the letter, please.
I shall offend, either to detain or give it. The contents, as in part I understand them, are to blame.
I’ll be in trouble either way, whether I keep it or give it to you. The letter’s contents, from what I understand, are a bit suspicious.
Let’s see, let’s see.
Let me see it, let me see it.
I hope, for my brother’s justification, he wrote this but as an essay or taste of my virtue.
I hope, for my brother’s sake, he only wrote this as a test of my integrity.
[Reads] ’This policy and reverence of age makes the world bitter to the best of our times; keeps our fortunes from us till our oldness cannot relish them. I begin to find an idle and fond bondage in the oppression of aged tyranny; who sways, not as it hath power, but as it is suffered. Come to me, that of this I may speak more. If our father would sleep till I waked him, you should half his revenue for ever, and live the beloved of your brother, EDGAR.’ Hum--conspiracy!--’Sleep till I waked him,--you should enjoy half his revenue,’--My son Edgar! Had he a hand to write this? a heart and brain to breed it in?--When came this to you? who brought it?
[Reads] "This policy and respect for age makes the world bitter for the best of our times; it keeps our wealth from us until we’re too old to enjoy it. I’m starting to feel the useless burden of oppressive old age, which has power not because it’s earned but because it’s tolerated. Come to me, and I’ll tell you more about this. If our father would sleep until I woke him, you’d get half his income forever and be loved by your brother, EDGAR." Hmm—conspiracy! "Sleep until I wake him—you’d get half his income." My son Edgar! Did he really write this? Did he have the heart and mind to come up with this? When did you get this? Who brought it?
It was not brought me, my lord; there’s the cunning of it; I found it thrown in at the casement of my closet.
It wasn’t brought to me, my lord; that’s the trick. I found it thrown through the window of my room.
You know the character to be your brother’s?
Do you recognize the handwriting as 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.
If the letter were good, my lord, I’d swear it was his; but because of what’s inside, I’d rather believe it’s not.
It is his.
It is his.
It is his hand, my lord; but I hope his heart is not in the contents.
It’s his handwriting, my lord; but I hope his heart wasn’t in what he wrote.
Hath he never heretofore sounded you in this business?
Has he ever talked to you about this before?
Never, my lord: but I have heard him oft maintain it to be fit, that, sons at perfect age, and fathers declining, the father should be as ward to the son, and the son manage his revenue.
Never, my lord. But I’ve often heard him say that it’s right for sons who are grown and fathers who are old for the father to be under the son’s care, and for the son to manage the father’s wealth.
O villain, villain! His very opinion in the letter! Abhorred villain! Unnatural, detested, brutish villain! worse than brutish! Go, sirrah, seek him; I’ll apprehend him: abominable villain! Where is he?
Oh, villain, villain! His very opinion in the letter! Hated villain! Unnatural, disgusting, brutal villain! Worse than brutal! Go, servant, find him; I’ll catch him: awful villain! Where is he?
I do not well know, my lord. If it shall please you to suspend your indignation against my brother till you can derive from him better testimony of his intent, you shall run a certain course; where, if you violently proceed against him, mistaking his purpose, it would make a great gap in your own honour, and shake in pieces the heart of his obedience. I dare pawn down my life for him, that he hath wrote this to feel my affection to your honour, and to no further pretence of danger.
I don’t really know, my lord. If you’ll be so kind as to hold off on your anger towards my brother until you can get better proof from him about his intentions, you’ll be following the right path; if you rush to act against him, misunderstanding his purpose, it will cause a huge gap in your own honor, and shake the foundation of his loyalty. I would bet my life that he wrote this just to test my feelings towards your honor, and not to cause any real danger.
Think you so?
Do you really think so?
If your honour judge it meet, I will place you where you shall hear us confer of this, and by an auricular assurance have your satisfaction; and that without any further delay than this very evening.
If you think it’s right, I’ll place you where you can hear us discuss this, and you’ll get your answers directly from me, and without much delay, by tonight.
He cannot be such a monster--
He can’t be such a monster--
Nor is not, sure.
He’s definitely not, I’m sure.
To his father, that so tenderly and entirely loves him. Heaven and earth! Edmund, seek him out: wind me into him, I pray you: frame the business after your own wisdom. I would unstate myself, to be in a due resolution.
To his father, who loves him so dearly and completely. Heaven and earth! Edmund, go find him for me, please: lead me to him, I beg you: handle this however you think best. I’d give up everything I have to be sure about this matter.
I will seek him, sir, presently: convey the business as I shall find means and acquaint you withal.
I’ll find him right away, sir, and handle the matter as I can, and I’ll keep you informed.
These late eclipses in the sun and moon portend no good to us: though the wisdom of nature can reason it thus and thus, 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 father. This villain of mine comes under the prediction; there’s son against father: the king falls from bias of nature; there’s father against child. We have seen the best of our time: machinations, hollowness, treachery, and all ruinous disorders, follow us disquietly to our graves. Find out this villain, Edmund; it shall lose thee nothing; do it carefully. And the noble and true-hearted Kent banished! his offence, honesty! ’Tis strange.
These recent eclipses of the sun and moon don’t look good for us: even though nature’s wisdom can explain it this way or that, nature itself is punished by the effects: love fades, friendships fall apart, brothers split: in cities, riots; in countries, conflicts; in palaces, treason; and the bond between father and son breaks. This villain of mine fits the prediction; there’s a son against his father: the king goes against nature; there’s father against child. We’ve seen the best of our time: deceit, lies, betrayal, and all kinds of ruin follow us, leading us to our graves. Find this villain, Edmund; you won’t lose anything by it; do it carefully. And the noble and honest Kent banished! His crime? Being honest! It’s bizarre.
This is the excellent foppery of the world, that, when we are sick in fortune,--often the surfeit of our own behavior,--we make guilty of our disasters the sun, the moon, and the stars: as if we were villains by necessity; fools by heavenly compulsion; knaves, thieves, and treachers, by spherical predominance; drunkards, liars, and adulterers, by an enforced obedience of planetary influence; and all that we are evil in, by a divine thrusting on: an admirable evasion of whoremaster man, to lay his goatish disposition to the charge of a star! My father compounded with my mother under the dragon’s tail; and my nativity was under Ursa major; so that it follows, I am rough and lecherous. Tut, I should have been that I am, had the maidenliest star in the firmament twinkled on my bastardizing. Edgar--
This is the ridiculous absurdity of the world, that, when we’re down on our luck,--often the result of our own bad behavior,--we blame our misfortune on the sun, the moon, and the stars: as if we were villains by fate; fools by divine decree; crooks, thieves, and traitors, by cosmic order; drunks, liars, and adulterers, by the enforced power of the planets; and everything we do wrong, by a divine push: an amazing way for a man to avoid responsibility, by blaming his bad behavior on a star! My father made a deal with my mother under a bad omen; and I was born under the big bear constellation; so it follows that I am rough and lecherous. Nonsense, I would still be the same person, no matter what star was in the sky when I was born. Edgar--
And pat he comes like the catastrophe of the old comedy: my cue is villanous melancholy, with a sigh like Tom o’ Bedlam. O, these eclipses do portend these divisions! fa, sol, la, mi.
And here he comes, like the end of an old comedy: my role is to be villainously sad, with a sigh like a madman. Oh, these eclipses really do cause these divisions! fa, sol, la, mi.
How now, brother Edmund! what serious contemplation are you in?
What’s the matter, brother Edmund? What serious thoughts are you lost in?
I am thinking, brother, of a prediction I read this other day, what should follow these eclipses.
I’m thinking, brother, about a prophecy I read recently, about what should happen after these eclipses.
Do you busy yourself about that?
Are you seriously thinking about that?
I promise you, the effects he writes of succeed unhappily; as of unnaturalness between the child and the parent; death, dearth, dissolutions of ancient amities; divisions in state, menaces and maledictions against king and nobles; needless diffidences, banishment of friends, dissipation of cohorts, nuptial breaches, and I know not what.
I swear, the things he talks about always end badly, like unnatural conflicts between children and parents; death, famine, the end of old friendships; political division, threats, and curses against kings and nobles; pointless distrust, the banishment of friends, the scattering of troops, broken marriages, and I don’t know what else.
How long have you been a sectary astronomical?
How long have you been an astronomy fanatic?
Come, come; when saw you my father last?
Come on, come on; when did you last see my father?
Why, the night gone by.
Last night.
Spake you with him?
Did you talk to him?
Ay, two hours together.
Yes, for about two hours.
Parted you in good terms? Found you no displeasure in him by word or countenance?
Did you part on good terms? Did you notice any anger in him, either in his words or his expression?
None at all.
None at all.
Bethink yourself wherein you may have offended him: and at my entreaty forbear his presence till 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.
Think carefully about whether you might have offended him in any way: and, at my request, stay away from him until his anger cools down a bit; it’s so intense right now that it would hardly be calmed by your presence.
Some villain hath done me wrong.
Someone has wronged me.
That’s my fear. I pray you, have a continent forbearance till the spied of his rage goes slower; and, as I say, 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.
That’s my worry. Please, hold back your emotions until his rage slows down; and as I said, come with me to my place, where I’ll take you to hear my lord speak: please, go; here’s my key: if you go out, take a weapon with you.
Armed, brother!
Armed, brother?
Brother, I advise you to the best; go armed: I am no honest man if there be any good meaning towards you: I have told you what I have seen and heard; but faintly, nothing like the image and horror of it: pray you, away.
Brother, I only want what’s best for you; go armed: I wouldn’t be honest with you if I meant any harm to you: I’ve only told you what I’ve seen and heard; but it’s nothing compared to how bad it really is: please, go.
Shall I hear from you anon?
Will I hear from you soon?
I do serve you in this business.
I’m helping you with this matter.
A credulous father! and a brother noble, Whose nature is so far from doing harms, That he suspects none: on whose foolish honesty My practises ride easy! I see the business. Let me, if not by birth, have lands by wit: All with me’s meet that I can fashion fit.
A gullible father! and a noble brother, Whose nature is so far from causing harm, That he suspects nothing: on whose foolish honesty My schemes go unnoticed! I understand the plan. Let me, if not by birth, gain land through cleverness: Everything with me works out, as I can make it happen.