Artboard Created with Sketch. Close Search Dialog
! Error Created with Sketch.

  Act 3 Scene 4

page Act 3 Scene 4 Page 3

Original Text

Modern Text

EDGAR

Away! The foul fiend follows me! Through the sharp hawthorn blows the cold wind. Hum! Go to thy cold bed and warm thee.

EDGAR

Go away! The devil’s after me! The cold wind blows through the hawthorn trees. Ha! Get into your cold beds and warm yourselves up.

LEAR

Didst thou give all to thy two daughters, and art thou come to this?

LEAR

Did you give everything to your two daughters and end up like this?

EDGAR

Who gives any thing to Poor Tom, whom the foul fiend hath led through fire and through flame, through ford and whirlipool, o'er bog and quagmire; that hath laid knives under his pillow and halters in his pew, set ratsbane by his porridge, made him proud of heart to ride on a bay trotting- horse over four-inched bridges to course his own shadow for a traitor? Bless thy five wits. Tom’s a-cold. Oh, do-de, do-de, do-de. Bless thee from whirlwinds, star-blasting, and taking! Do Poor Tom some charity, whom the foul fiend vexes. There could I have him now—and there—and there again—and there.

EDGAR

Whoever gave a thing to Poor Tom? The devil has chased him through fires, across rivers and whirlpools, and over swamps. The devil has put knives under Tom’s pillow and hangman’s ropes in his church pew, encouraging him to kill himself. The devil has put rat poison next to Poor Tom’s oatmeal and made him gallop his horse over narrow bridges, chasing his own shadow as if it were a traitor. Bless your five senses! Tom’s chilly. Oh do-de, do-de, do-de. God protect you from tornadoes, evil stars, and diseases! Take pity on Poor Tom, who is persecuted by the devil. I can almost catch him. There!… And over there!… And over there!
Storm still
The storm continues.

LEAR

What, has his daughters brought him to this pass?—
60Couldst thou save nothing? Wouldst thou give 'em all?

LEAR

Have his daughters made him crazy like this?—Couldn’t you have kept something for yourself? Did you have to give them everything?

FOOL

Nay, he reserved a blanket, else we had been all shamed.

FOOL

No, he kept a blanket to cover himself with. If he hadn’t, we’d all be embarrassed to look at him.

LEAR

Now all the plagues that in the pendulous air
Hang fated o'er men’s faults light on thy daughters!

LEAR

Then may your daughters be cursed with all the horrible fates that await sinners!

KENT

He hath no daughters, sir.

KENT

He doesn’t have any daughters, sir.