作者：(英)查尔斯·兰姆（Lamb, C.）,玛丽·兰姆（Lamb, M.）
出版社：清华大学出版社
格式: AZW3, DOCX, EPUB, MOBI, PDF, TXT
莎士比亚名著故事：罗密欧与朱丽叶(插图·中文导读英文版)试读：
前言
威廉·莎士比亚（William Shakespeare，1564—1616），文艺复兴时期英国伟大的剧作家、诗人，被誉为“英国戏剧之父”、“人类文学奥林匹斯山上的宙斯”。
1564年4月23日，莎士比亚于出生在英格兰沃里克郡斯特拉福镇一个比较富裕的家庭，父亲曾任该镇镇长。莎士比亚幼年在当地文法学校学习，并对戏剧、诗歌怀有浓厚的兴趣；13岁时因家道衰败被迫辍学，18岁结婚；约在1586年（或说1587年）前往伦敦谋生，先在剧院门前为贵族顾客看马，后逐渐成为剧院的杂役、演员、剧作家，最后成了剧院股东。
莎士比亚是英国文学史和戏剧史上最杰出的诗人和剧作家，也是西方文艺史上最杰出的作家之一、全世界最伟大的剧作家之一，是举世公认的文学天才。他一生共写有37部戏剧、154首14行诗、两首长诗和其他诗歌等。莎士比亚的主要悲剧作品包括：《罗密欧与朱丽叶》、《麦克白》、《李尔王》、《哈姆雷特》、《奥瑟罗》、《泰特斯·安特洛尼克斯》、《裘力斯·凯撒》、《安东尼与克莉奥佩屈拉》、《科利奥兰纳斯》、《特洛埃围城记》、《雅典的泰门》等，喜剧作品包括：《错中错》、《终成眷属》、《皆大欢喜》、《仲夏夜之梦》、《无事生非》、《一报还一报》、《暴风雨》、《驯悍记》、《第十二夜》、《威尼斯商人》、《温莎的风流娘们》、《爱的徒劳》、《维洛那二绅士》、《提尔国王佩力克尔斯》、《辛白林》、《冬天的故事》等，历史剧作品包括：《亨利四世》、《亨利五世》、《亨利六世》、《亨利八世》、《约翰王》、《里查二世》、《里查三世》，十四行诗包括：《爱人的怨诉》、《鲁克丽丝失贞记》、《维纳斯和阿多尼斯》、《热情的朝圣者》、《凤凰和斑鸠》等。
几个世纪以来，莎士比亚的作品一直影响着世界各地的读者，给世人留下了极其宝贵的精神财富，他的戏剧作品是世界文学史上的一座丰碑。他的作品被译成世界上几乎所有的文字，他的剧本至今还在世界各地演出。1616年4月26日，莎士比亚在家乡的小镇去世，逝后被安葬在镇上的一个小教堂旁。每年来自世界各地数以千万计的人像朝圣一般去瞻仰他的墓地。在他生日的那天，每年都有许多国家的剧院在上演他的剧本纪念他。
在中国，莎士比亚是深受广大读者喜爱的作家，他们也是最早被介绍给中国读者的作家。为了让国内读者更好地了解莎士比亚作品，我们决定引进由英国著名作家玛丽·兰姆和查尔斯·兰姆姐弟改编的莎士比亚名著故事，并采用中文导读英文版的形式出版。在中文导读中，我们尽力使其贴近原作的精髓，也尽可能保留原作故事主线。我们希望能够编出为当代中国读者所喜爱的经典读本。读者在阅读英文故事之前，可以先阅读中文导读内容，这样有利于了解故事背景，从而加快阅读速度。我们相信，该经典著作的引进对加强当代中国读者，特别是青少年读者的人文修养是非常有帮助的。
本书主要内容由王勋、纪飞编译。参加本书故事素材搜集整理及编译工作的还有郑佳、赵雪、熊金玉、李丽秀、刘乃亚、熊红华、王婷婷、孟宪行、胡国平、李晓红、贡东兴、陈楠、邵舒丽、冯洁、王业伟、徐鑫、王晓旭、周丽萍、熊建国、徐平国、肖洁、王小红等。限于我们的科学、人文素养和英语水平，书中难免会有不当之处，衷心希望读者朋友批评指正。PREFACE
The following Tales are meant to be submitted to the young reader as an introduction to the study of Shakespeare, for which purpose his words are used whenever it seemed possible to bring them in；and in whatever has been added to give them the regular form of a connected story, diligent care has been taken to select such words as might least interrupt the effect of the beautiful English tongue in which he wrote：therefore, words introduced into our language since his time have been as far as possible avoided.
In those Tales which have been taken from the Tragedies, the young readers will perceive, when they come to see the source from which these stories are derived, that Shakespeare's own words, with little alteration, recur very frequently in the narrative as well as in the dialogue；but in those made from the Comedies the writers found themselves scarcely ever able to turn his words into the narrative form：therefore it is feared that, in them, dialogue has been made use of too frequently for young people not accustomed to the dramatic form of writing. But this fault, if it be a fault, has been caused by an earnest wish to give as much of Shakespeare's own words as possible：and if the“He said”and“She said，”the question and the reply, should sometimes seem tedious to their young ears, they must pardon it, because it was the only way in which could be given to them a few hints and little foretastes of the great pleasure which awaits them in their elder years, when they come to the rich treasures from which these small and valueless coins are extracted；pretending to no other merit than as faint and imperfect stamps of Shakespeare's matchless image.Faint and imperfect images they must be called, because the beauty of his language is too frequently destroyed by the necessity of changing many of his excellent words into words far less expressive of his true sense, to make it read something like prose；and even in some few places, where his blank verse is given unaltered, as hoping from its simple plainness to cheat the young readers into the belief that they are reading prose, yet still his language being transplanted from its own natural soil and wild poetic garden, it must want much of its native beauty.莎士比亚曾就读的学校
It has been wished to make these Tales easy reading for very young children. To the utmost of their ability the writers have constantly kept this in mind；but the subjects of most of them made this a very difficult task.It was no easy matter to give the histories of men and women in terms familiar to the apprehension of a very young mind.For young ladies, too, it has been the intention chiefly to write；because boys being generally permitted the use of their fathers'libraries at a much earlier age than girls are, they frequently have the best scenes of Shakespeare by heart, before their sisters are permitted to look into this manly book；and, therefore, instead of recommending these Tales to the perusal, of young gentlemen who can read them so much better in the originals, their kind assistance is rather requested in explaining to their sisters such parts as are hardest for them to understand：and when they have helped them to get over the difficulties, then perhaps they will read to them（carefully selecting what is proper for a young sister's ear）some passage which has pleased them in one of these stories, in the very words of the scene from which it is taken；and it is hoped they will find that the beautiful extracts, the select passages, they may choose to give their sisters in this way will be much better relished and understood from their having some notion of the general story from one of these imperfect abridgments；—which if they be fortunately so done as to prove delight to any of the young readers, it is hoped that no worse effect will result than to make them wish themselves a little older, that they may be allowed to read the Plays at full length（such a wish will be neither peevish nor irrational）.When time and leave of judicious friends shall put them into their hands, they will discover in such of them as are here abridged（not to mention almost as many more, which are left untouched）many surprising events and turns of fortune, which for their infinite variety could not be contained in this little book, besides a world of sprightly and cheerful characters, both men and women, the humor of which it was feared would be lost if it were attempted to reduce the length of them.
What these Tales shall have been to the YOUNG readers, that and much more it is the writers'wish that the true Plays of Shakespeare may prove to them in older years—enrichers of the fancy, strengtheners of virtue, a withdrawing from all selfish and mercenary thoughts, a lesson of all sweet and honorable thoughts d actions, to teach courtesy, benignity, generosity, humanity：for of examples, teaching these virtues, his pages are full.莎翁之妻的别墅泰尔亲王伯利克里/Pericles, Prince of Tyre导读
由于泰尔亲王伯利克里发现了希腊皇帝暗中做的坏事，这个皇帝要报复泰尔城的百姓。为了避免灾难发生，伯利克里主动到海外流亡。泰尔则由能臣赫勒堪纽斯来管理。伯利克里首先到达了塔瑟斯，救济了这里的百姓，塔瑟斯总督克里翁和百姓都很感谢伯利克里。但是为了躲避希腊皇帝的追杀，伯利克里只好继续流亡。
不幸的伯利克里遇上了风暴，但他幸免于难，被渔夫救起。现在伯利克里正在本塔波利斯国，国王的女儿泰萨要在第二天生日的时候比武招亲。伯利克里很为自己丢失的铠甲惋惜，那是父亲的遗物，否则就可以穿着去比武了。这时渔夫把铠甲还给了伯利克里，原来铠甲也被渔夫打捞起来了。
伯利克里打败了所有的竞争者，一下子被本塔波利斯的国王看中，国王把自己的女儿泰萨嫁给了伯利克里，不过伯利克里为了躲避追杀并没有显露自己真正的身份。很快，伯利克里接到赫勒堪纽斯的消息，希腊国王死了，而泰尔城百姓要拥立赫勒堪纽斯，赫勒堪纽斯希望伯利克里尽快回来。本塔波利斯的国王知道自己的女儿嫁给了亲王，很高兴，但是现在女儿怀着身孕，不得不跟伯利克里分别。不过泰萨坚持要与丈夫一起回国，国王和亲王都只好同意。
但是不幸的伯利克里在返回的途中又遇到了风暴，泰萨受了惊吓，生下孩子以后就不省人事了。伯利克里非常难过，但是为了祈求风暴平息，只好将死去的王后投入大海。伯利克里还在装有泰萨尸体的箱子上写明了泰萨的名字和身份，希望好心人能帮忙掩埋。这个箱子被塞利蒙捞起，塞利蒙不相信泰萨已经身亡，后来设法把泰萨救活，原来泰萨只是昏迷而已。泰萨看了丈夫的字条，以为丈夫在风暴中丧生，就去神庙里做了女祭司，虔诚祈祷。他被冲到海边的怪石上
而伯利克里这边，担心刚刚生下的女婴坚持不到泰尔，就在路过塔瑟斯的时候将其托付给了克里翁夫妇。克里翁夫妇答应会把这个女孩儿养大成人，并且接受最好的教育。伯利克里很放心，就把女儿玛莉娜的奶妈一起留了下来。
一晃十四年过去了，泰尔政通人和，玛莉娜也长大成人，而且多才多艺，深受大家喜爱，而克里翁自己的孩子则相差甚远，克里翁的妻子迪奥妮萨很是嫉妒。于是，这个女人决定趁玛莉娜为自己刚刚去世的奶妈哭泣的时候派人杀掉玛莉娜。迪奥妮萨先哄骗玛莉娜跟着仆人里欧奈恩去散步，然后让里欧奈恩趁机杀掉玛莉娜。
一路上玛莉娜都在讲着自己出生的那个故事，可里欧奈恩还是要杀掉玛莉娜，就在里欧奈恩将要动手的时候，玛莉娜被海盗掳走了。海盗把玛莉娜卖到了米迪林。由于玛莉娜很有才华，米迪林的总督赖斯莫克斯很尊重这个女孩儿，甚至想要弄清玛丽娜的底细，然后向玛莉娜求婚。
里欧奈恩回去撒谎说已经杀死了玛莉娜，迪奥妮萨就为玛莉娜立了一个墓碑。伯利克里来接自己的女儿，却只看到墓碑，他悲痛欲绝，在船上一声不吭，郁郁寡欢。伯利克里的船经过了米迪林，赖斯莫克斯前来迎接。赖斯莫克斯听说了亲王的状况，就把玛莉娜叫来，希望用玛莉娜的聪明才智使亲王恢复正常。
玛莉娜开始为亲王讲述自己的不幸，伯利克里觉得这个女孩儿很像自己死去的妻子，就问起了玛莉娜的身世。当亲王听说女孩就叫玛莉娜，还听说了女孩的其他经历，确信这是自己的女儿时，亲王欣喜若狂。这一晚，亲王做了一个奇怪的梦，梦里一个女神要亲王去艾菲索斯的神庙讲述自己的不幸，会让他遇到意外之喜。
第二天，赖斯莫克斯向玛莉娜求婚，亲王伯利克里要求自己的女儿和赖斯莫克斯先陪着自己去一趟艾菲索斯。亲王在艾菲索斯的神庙里诉说着自己的不幸，而这里的祭司正好就是泰萨，泰萨听出了亲王的声音，听了亲王的经历之后泰萨喊着亲王的名字晕倒了。这时塞利蒙告诉亲王这个祭司就是泰萨，又把泰萨当年的经历告诉亲王。亲王非常高兴，现在一家人终于团聚了，而泰萨也同意赖斯莫克斯迎娶自己的女儿玛莉娜。
品行端正的人历经千辛万苦终得圆满，而对像迪奥妮萨这样的坏人，塔瑟斯的百姓非常生气，火烧王宫，克里翁和迪奥妮萨都被烧死了。
P ericles, Prince of Tyre, became a voluntary exile from his dominions, to avert the dreadful calamities which Antiochus, the wicked emperor of Greece, threatened to bring upon his subjects and city of Tyre, in revenge for a discovery which the prince had made of a shocking deed which the emperor had done in secret；as commonly it proves dangerous to pry into the hidden crimes of great ones. Leaving the government of his people in the hands of his able and honest minister, Helicanus, Pericles set sail from Tyre, thinking to absent himself till the wrath of Antiochus, who was mighty, should be appeased.穿上了盔甲
The first place which the prince directed his course to was Tarsus, and hearing that the city of Tarsus was at that time suffering under a severe famine, he took with him a store of provisions for its relief. On his arrival he found the city reduced to the utmost distress；and, he coming like a messenger from heaven with his unhoped-for succor, Cleon, the governor of Tarsus, welcomed him with boundless thanks.Pericles had not been here many days before letters came from his faithful minister, warning him that it was not safe for him to stay at Tarsus, for Antiochus knew of his abode, and by secret emissaries despatched for that purpose sought his life.Upon receipt of these letters Pericles put out to sea again, amid the blessings and prayers of a whole people who had been fed by his bounty.
He had not sailed far when his ship was overtaken by a dreadful storm, and every man on board perished except Pericles, who was cast by the sea waves naked on an unknown shore, where he had not wandered long before he met with some poor fishermen, who invited him to their homes, giving him clothes and provisions. The fishermen told Pericles the name of their country was Pentapolis, and that their king was Simonides, commonly called the good Simonides, because of his peaceable reign and good government.From them he also learned that King Simonides had a fair young daughter, and that the following day was her birthday, when a grand tournament was to be held at court, many princes and knights being come from all parts to try their skill in arms for the love of Thaisa, this fair princess.While the prince was listening to this account, and secretly lamenting the loss of his good armor, which disabled him from making one among these valiant knights, another fisherman brought in a complete suit of armor that he had taken out of the sea with his fishing-net, which proved to be the very armor he had lost.When Pericles beheld his own armor he said：“Thanks, Fortune；after all my crosses you give me somewhat to repair myself This armor was bequeathed to me by my dead father, for whose dear sake I have so loved it that whithersoever I went I still have kept it by me, and the rough sea that parted it from me, having now become calm, hath given it back again, for which I thank it, for, since I have my father's gift again, I think my shipwreck no misfortune.”王后被放进箱子
The next day Pericles, clad in his brave father's armor, repaired to the royal court of Simonides, where he performed wonders at the tournament, vanquishing with ease all the brave knights and valiant princes who contended with him in arms for the honor of Thaisa's love. When brave warriors contended at court tournaments for the love of kings'daughters, if one proved sole victor over all the rest, it was usual for the great lady for whose sake these deeds of valor were undertaken to bestow all her respect upon the conqueror, and Thaisa did not depart from this custom, for she presently dismissed all the princes and knights whom Pericles had vanquished, and distinguished him by her especial favor and regard, crowning him with the wreath of victory, as king of that day's happiness；and Pericles became a most passionate lover of this beauteous princess from the first moment he beheld her.
The good Simonides so well approved of the valor and noble qualities of Pericles, who was indeed a most accomplished gentleman and well learned in all excellent arts, that though he knew not the rank of this royal stranger（for Pericles for fear of Antiochus gave out that he was a private gentleman of Tyre），yet did not Simonides disdain to accept of the valiant unknown for a son-in-law, when he perceived his daughter's affections were firmly fixed upon him.
Pericles had not been many months married to Thaisa before he received intelligence that his enemy Antiochus was dead, and that his subjects of Tyre, impatient of his long absence, threatened to revolt and talked of placing Helicanus upon his vacant throne. This news came from Helicanus himself, who, being a loyal subject to his royal master, would not accept of the high dignity offered him, but sent to let Pericles know their intentions, that he might return home and resume his lawful right.It was matter of great surprise and joy to Simonides to find that his son-in-law（the obscure knight）was the renowned Prince of Tyre；yet again he regretted that he was not the private gentleman he supposed him to be, seeing that he must now part both with his admired son-in-law and his beloved daughter, whom he feared to trust to the perils of the sea, because Thaisa was with child；and Pericles himself wished her to remain with her father till after her confinement；but the poor lady so earnestly desired to go with her husband that at last they consented, hoping she would reach Tyre before she was brought to bed.王后被人救起
The sea was no friendly element to unhappy Pericles, for long before they reached Tyre another dreadful tempest arose, which so terrified Thaisa that she was taken ill, and in a short space of time her nurse, Lychorida, came to Pericles with a little child in her arms, to tell the prince the sad tidings that his wife died the moment her little babe was born. She held the babe toward its father, saying：
“Here is a thing too young for such a place. This is the child of your dead queen.”
No tongue can tell the dreadful sufferings of Pericles when he heard his wife was dead. As soon as he could speak he said：
“O you gods, why do you make us love your goodly gifts and then snatch those gifts away？”
“Patience, good sir，”said Lychorida，“here is all that is left alive of our dead queen, a little daughter, and for your child's sake be more manly. Patience, good sir, even for the sake of this precious charge.”
Pericles took the newborn infant in his arms, and he said to the little babe：“Now may your life be mild, for a more blusterous birth had never babe！May your condition be mild and gentle, for you have had the rudest welcome that ever prince's child did meet with！May that which follows be happy, for you have had as chiding a nativity as fire, air, water, earth, and heaven could make to herald you from the womb！Even at the first, your loss，”meaning in the death of her mother，“is more than all the joys, which you shall find upon this earth to which you are come a new visitor, shall be able to recompense.”
The storm still continuing to rage furiously, and the sailors having a superstition that while a dead body remained in the ship the storm would never cease, they came to Pericles to demand that his queen should be thrown overboard；and they said：
“What courage, sir？God save you！”美丽的玛丽娜
“Courage enough，”said the sorrowing prince.“I do not fear the storm；it has done to me its worst；yet for the love of this poor infant, this fresh new seafarer, I wish the storm was over.”
“Sir，”said the sailors，“your queen must overboard. The sea works high, the wind is loud, and the storm will not abate till the ship be cleared of the dead.”
Though Pericles knew how weak and unfounded this superstition was, yet he patiently submitted, saying：“As you think meet. Then she must overboard, most wretched queen！”
And now this unhappy prince went to take a last view of his dear wife, and as he looked on his Thaisa he said：“A terrible childbed hast thou had, my dear；no light, no fire；the unfriendly elements forget thee utterly, nor have I time to bring thee hallowed to thy grave, but must cast thee scarcely coffined into the sea, where for a monument upon thy bones the humming waters must overwhelm thy corpse, lying with simple shells. O Lychorida, bid Nestor bring me spices, ink, and paper, my casket and my jewels, and bid Nicandor bring me the satin coffin.Lay the babe upon the pillow, and go about this suddenly, Lychorida, while I say a priestly farewell to my Thaisa.”
They brought Pericles a large chest, in which（wrapped in a satin shroud）he placed his queen, and sweet-smelling spices he strewed over her, and beside her he placed rich jewels, and a written paper telling who she was and praying if haply any one should find the chest which contained the body of his wife they would give her burial；and then with his own hands he cast the chest into the sea. When the storm was over, Pericles ordered the sailors to make for Tarsus.“For，”said Pericles，“the babe cannot hold out till we come to Tyre.At Tarsus I will leave it at careful nursing.”
After that tempestuous night when Thaisa was thrown into the sea, and while it was yet early morning, as Cerimon, a worthy gentleman of Ephesus and a most skilful physician, was standing by the seaside, his servants brought to him a chest, which they said the sea waves had thrown on the land.
“I never saw，”said one of them，“so huge a billow as cast it on our shore.”对着父亲唱起了歌
Cerimon ordered the chest to be conveyed to his own house, and when it was opened he beheld with wonder the body of a young and lovely lady；and the sweet-smelling spices and rich casket of jewels made him conclude it was some great person who was thus strangely entombed. Searching farther, he discovered a paper, from which he learned that the corpse which lay as dead before him had been a queen, and wife to Pericles, Prince of Tyre；and much admiring at the strangeness of that accident, and more pitying the husband who had lost this sweet lady, he said：“If you are living, Pericles, you have a heart that even cracks with woe.”Then, observing attentively Thaisa's face, he saw how fresh and unlike death her looks were, and he said，“They were too hasty that threw you into the sea”；for he did not believe her to be dead.He ordered a fire to be made, and proper cordials to be brought, and soft music to be played, which might help to calm her amazed spirits if she should revive；and he said to those who crowded round her, wondering at what they saw，“O, I pray you, gentlemen, give her air；this queen will live；she has not been entranced above five hours；and see, she begins to blow into life again；she is alive；behold, her eyelids move；this fair creature will live to make us weep to hear her fate.”
Thaisa had never died, but after the birth of her little baby had fallen into a deep swoon which made all that saw her conclude her to be dead；and now by the care of this kind gentleman she once more revived to light and life；and, opening her eyes, she said：
“Where am I？Where is my lord？What world is this？”
By gentle degrees Cerimon let her understand what had befallen her；and when he thought she was enough recovered to bear the sight he showed her the paper written by her husband, and the jewels；and she looked on the paper and said：
“It is my lord's writing. That I was shipped at sea I well remember, but whether there delivered of my babe, by the holy gods I cannot rightly say；but since my wedded lord I never shall see again, I will put on a vestal livery and never more have joy.”
“Madam，”said Cerimon，“if you purpose as you speak, the temple ofDiana is not far distant from hence；there you may abide as a vestal. Moreover, if you please, a niece of mine shall there attend you.”This proposal was accepted with thanks by Thaisa；and when she was perfectly recovered, Cerimon placed her in the temple of Diana, where she became a vestal or priestess of that goddess, and passed her days in sorrowing for her husband's supposed loss, and in the most devout exercises of those times.泰萨请求一起回国
Pericles carried his young daughter（whom he named Marina, because she was born at sea）to Tarsus, intending to leave her with Cleon, the governor of that city, and his wife Dionysia, thinking, for the good he had done to them at the time of their famine, they would be kind to his little motherless daughter. When Cleon saw Prince Pericles and heard of the great loss which had befallen him he said，“Oh, your sweet queen, that it had pleased Heaven you could have brought her hither to have blessed my eyes with the sight of her！”
Pericles replied：“We must obey the powers above us. Should I rage and roar as the sea does in which my Thaisa has, yet the end must be as it is.My gentle babe, Marina here, I must charge your charity with her.I leave her the infant of your care, beseeching you to give her princely training.”And then turning to Cleon's wife, Dionysia, he said，“Good madam, make me blessed in your tare in bringing up my child.”
And she answered，“I have a child myself who shall not be more dear to my respect than yours, my lord.”
And Cleon made the like promise, saying：“Your noble services, Prince Pericles, in feeding my whole people with your corn（for which in their prayers they daily remember you）must in your child be thought on. If I should neglect your child, my whole people that were by you relieved would force me to my duty；but if to that I need a spur, the gods revenge it on me and mine to the end of generation.”
Pericles, being thus assured that his child would be carefully attended to, left her to the protection of Cleon and his wife Dionysia, and with her he left the nurse, Lychorida. When he went away the little Marina knew not her loss, but Lychorida wept sadly at parting with her royal master.来到神庙
“Oh, no tears, Lychorida，”said Pericles；“no tears；look to your little mistress, on whose grace you may depend hereafter.”
Pericles arrived in safety at Tyre, and was once more settled in the quiet possession of his throne, while his woeful queen, whom he thought dead, remained at Ephesus. Her little babe Marina, whom this hapless mother had never seen, was brought up by Cleon in a manner suitable to her high birth.He gave her the most careful education, so that by the time Marina attained the age of fourteen years the most deeply learned men were not more studied in the learning of those times than was Marina.She sang like one immortal, and danced as goddess-like, and with her needle she was so skilful that she seemed to compose nature's own shapes in birds, fruits, or flowers, the natural roses being scarcely more like to each other than they were to Marina's silken flowers.But when she had gained from education all these graces which made her the general wonder, Dionysia, the wife of Cleon, became her mortal enemy from jealousy, by reason that her own daughter, from the slowness of her mind, was not able to attain to that perfection wherein Marina excelled；and finding that all praise was bestowed on Marina, while her daughter, who was of the same age and had been educated with the same care as Marina, though not with the same success, was in comparison disregarded, she formed a project to remove Marina out of the way, vainly imagining that her untoward daughter would be more respected when Marina was no more seen.To encompass this she employed a man to murder Marina, and she well timed her wicked design, when Lychorida, the faithful nurse, had just died.Dionysia was discoursing with the man she had commanded to commit this murder when the young Marina was weeping over the dead Lychorida.Leonine, the man she employed to do this bad deed, though he was a very wicked man, could hardly be persuaded to undertake it, so had Marina won all hearts to love her.He said：
“She is a goodly creature！”
“The fitter then the gods should have her，”replied her merciless enemy.“Here she comes weeping for the death of her nurse Lychorida. Are you resolved to obey me？”
Leonine, fearing to disobey her, replied，“I am resolved.”And so, in that one short sentence, was the matchless Marina doomed to an untimely death. She now approached, with a basket of flowers in her hand, which she said she would daily strew over the grave of good Lychorida.The purple violet and the marigold should as a carpet hang upon her grave, while summer days did last.
“Alas for met”she said，“poor unhappy maid, born in a tempest, when my mother died. This world to me is like a lasting storm, hurrying me from my friends.”
“How now, Marina，”said the dissembling Dionysia，“do you weep alone？How does it chance my daughter is not with you？Do not sorrow for Lychorida；you have a nurse in me. Your beauty is quite changed with this unprofitable woe.Come, give me your flowers—the sea air will spoil them—and walk with Leonine；the air is fine, and will enliven you.Come, Leonine, take her by the arm and walk with her.”
“No, madam，”said Marina，“I pray you let me not deprive you of your servant”；for Leonine was one of Dionysia's attendants.
“Come, come，”said this artful woman, who wished for a pretense to leave her alone with Leonine，“I love the prince, your father, and I love you. We every day expect your father here；and when he comes and finds you so changed by grief from the paragon of beauty we reported you, he will think we have taken no care of you.Go, I pray you, walk, and be cheerful once again.Be careful of that excellent complexion which stole the hearts of old and young.”
Marina, being thus importuned, said，“Well, I will go, but yet I have no desire to it.”
As Dionysia walked away she said to Leonine，“Remember what I have said！”shocking words, for their meaning was that he should remember to kill Marina.
Marina looked toward the sea, her birthplace, and said，“Is the wind westerly that blows？”
“Southwest，”replied Leonine.
“When I was born the wind was north，”said she；and then the storm andtempest and all her father's sorrows, and her mother's death, came full into her mind, and she said，“My father, as Lychorida told me, did never fear, but cried, COURAGE, GOOD SEAMEN, to the sailors, galling his princely hands with the ropes, and, clasping to the masts, he endured a sea that almost split the deck.”
“When was this？”said Leonine.
“When I was born，”replied Marina.“Never were wind and waves more violent.”And then she described the storm, the action of the sailors, the boatswain's whistle, and the loud call of the master, which，”said she，“trebled the confusion of the ship.”
Lychorida had so often recounted to Marina the story of her hapless birth that these things seemed ever present to her imagination. But here Leonine interrupted her with desiring her to say her prayers.“What mean you？”said Marina, who began to fear, she knew not why.
“If you require a little space for prayer, I grant it，”said Leonine；“but be not tedious；the gods are quick of ear and I am sworn to do my work in haste.”
“Will you kill me？”said Marina.“Alas！why？”
“To satisfy my lady，”replied Leonine.
“Why would she have me killed？”said Marina.“Now, as I can remember, I never hurt her in all my life. I never spake bad word nor did any ill turn to any living creature.Believe me now, I never killed a mouse nor hurt a fly.I trod upon a worm once against my will, but I wept for it.How have I offended？”
The murderer replied，“My commission is not to reason on the deed, but to do it.”And he was just going to kill her when certain pirates happened to land at that very moment, who, seeing Marina, bore her off as a prize to their ship.
The pirate who had made Marina his prize carried her to Mitylene and sold her for a slave, where, though in that humble condition, Marina soon became known throughout the whole city of Mitylene for her beauty and her virtues, and the person to whom she was sold became rich by the money she earned for him. She taught music, dancing, and fine needleworks, and the money she got by her scholars she gave to her master and mistress；and the fame of herlearning and her great industry came to the knowledge of Lysimachus, a young nobleman who was governor of Mitylene, and Lysimachus went himself to the house where Marina dwelt, to see this paragon of excellence whom all the city praised so highly.Her conversation delighted Lysimachus beyond measure, for, though he had heard much of this admired maiden, he did not expect to find her so sensible a lady, so virtuous, and so good, as he perceived Marina to be；and he left her, saying he hoped she would persevere in her industrious and virtuous course, and that if ever she heard from him again it should be for her good.Lysimachus thought Marina such a miracle for sense, fine breeding, and excellent qualities, as well as for beauty and all outward graces, that he wished to marry her, and, notwithstanding her humble situation, he hoped to find that her birth was noble；but whenever when they asked her parentage she would sit still and weep.
Meantime, at Tarsus, Leonine, fearing the anger of Dionysia, told her he had killed Marina；and that wicked woman gave out that she was dead, and made a pretended funeral for her, and erected a stately monument；and shortly after Pericles, accompanied by his loyal minister Helicanus, made a voyage from Tyre to Tarsus, on purpose to see his daughter, intending to take her home with him. And he never having beheld her since he left her an infant in the care of Cleon and his wife, how did this good prince rejoice at the thought of seeing this dear child of his buried queen！But when they told him Marina was dead, and showed the monument they had erected for her, great was the misery this most wretched father endured, and, not being able to bear the sight of that country where his last hope and only memory of his dear Thaisa was entombed, he took ship and hastily departed from Tarsus.From the day he entered the ship a dull and heavy melancholy seized him.He never spoke, and seemed totally insensible to everything around him.
Sailing from Tarsus to Tyre, the ship in its course passed by Mitylene, where Marina dwelt；the governor of which place, Lysimachus, observing this royal vessel from the shore, and desirous of knowing who was on board, went in a barge to the side of the ship, to satisfy his curiosity. Helicanus received himvery courteously and told him that the ship came from Tyre, and that they were conducting thither Pericles, their prince.“A man sir，”said Helicanus，“who has not spoken to any one these three months, nor taken any sustenance, but just to prolong his grief；it would be tedious to repeat the whole ground of his distemper, but the main springs from the loss of a beloved daughter and a wife.”
Lysimachus begged to see this afflicted prince, and when he beheld Pericles he saw he had been once a goodly person, and he said to him：“Sir king, all hail！The gods preserve you！Hail, royal sir！”
But in vain Lysimachus spoke to him. Pericles made no answer, nor did he appear to perceive any stranger approached.And then Lysimachus bethought him of the peerless maid Marina, that haply with her sweet tongue she might win some answer from the silent prince；and with the consent of Helicanus he sent for Marina, and when she entered the ship in which her own father sat motionless with grief, they welcomed her on board as if they had known she was their princess；and they cried：
“She is a gallant lady.”
Lysimachus was well pleased to hear their commendations, and he said：
“She is such a one that, were I well assured she came of noble birth, I would wish no better choice and think me rarely blessed in a wife.”And then he addressed her in courtly terms, as if the lowly seeming maid had been the high-born lady he wished to find her, calling her fair and beautiful marina, telling her a great prince on board that ship had fallen into a sad and mournful silence；and, as if Marina had the power of conferring health and felicity, he begged she would undertake to cure the royal stranger of his melancholy.
“Sir，”said Marina，“I will use my utmost skill in his recovery, provided none but I and my maid be suffered to come near him.”
She, who at Mitylene had so carefully concealed her birth, ashamed to tell that one of royal ancestry was now a slave, first began to speak to Pericles of the wayward changes in her own fate, telling him from what a high estateherself had fallen. As if she had known it was her royal father she stood before, all the words she spoke were of her own sorrows；but her reason for so doing was that she knew nothing more wins the attention of the unfortunate than the recital of some sad calamity to match their own.The sound of her sweet voice aroused the drooping prince；he lifted up his eyes, which had been so long fixed and motionless；and Marina, who was the perfect image of her mother, presented to his amazed sight the features of his dead queen.The long silent prince was once more heard to speak.
“My dearest wife，”said the awakened Pericles，“was like this maid, and such a one might my daughter have been. My queen's square brows, her stature to an inch, as wand-like straight, as silver-voiced, her eyes as jewel-like.Where do you live, young maid？Report your parentage.I think you said you had been tossed from wrong to injury, and that you thought your griefs would equal mine, if both were opened.”
“Some such thing I said，”replied Marina，“and said no more than what my thoughts did warrant me as likely.”
“Tell me your story，”answered Pericles.“If I find you have known the thousandth part of my endurance you have borne your sorrows like a man and I have suffered like a girl；yet you do look like Patience gazing on kings'graves and smiling extremely out of act. How lost you your name, my most kind virgin？Recount your story, I beseech you.Come, sit by me.”
How was Pericles surprised when she said her name was MARINA, for he knew it was no usual name, but had been invented by himself for his own child to signify sea-born.
“Oh, I am mocked，”said he，“and you are sent hither by some incensed god to make the world laugh at me.”
“Patience, good sir，”said Marina，“or I must cease here.”
“Na@，”said Pericles，“I will be patient. You little know how you do startle me, to call yourself Marina.”
“The name，”she replied，“was given me by one that had some power, my father and a king.”
“How, a king's daughter！”said Pericles，“and called Marina！But are you flesh and blood？Are you no fairy？Speak on. Where were you born, and wherefore called Marina？”
She replied：“I was called Marina because I was born at sea. My mother was the daughter of a king；she died the minute I was born, as my good nurse Lychorida has often told me, weeping.The king, my father, left me at Tarsus till the cruel wife of Cleon sought to murder me.A crew of pirates came and rescued me and brought me here to Mitylene.But, good sir, why do you weep？It may be you think me an impostor.But indeed, sir, I am the daughter to King Pericles, if good King Pericles be living.”
Then Pericles, terrified as he seemed at his own sudden joy, and doubtful if this could be real, loudly called for his attendants, who rejoiced at the sound of their beloved king's voice；and he said to Helicanus：
“O Helicanus, strike me, give me a gash, put me to present pain, lest this great sea of joys rushing upon me overbear the shores of my mortality. Oh, come hither, thou that wast born at sea, buried at Tarsus, and found at sea again.O Helicanus, down on your knees, thank the holy gods！This is Marina.Now blessings on thee, my child！Give me fresh garments, mine own Helicanus！She is not dead at Tarsus as she should have been by the savage Dionysia.She shall tell you all, when you shall kneel to her and call her your very Princess.Who is this？”（observing Lysimachus for the first time）.
“Sir，”said Helicanus，“it is the governor of Mitylene, who, hearing of your melancholy, came to see you.”
“I embrace you, sir，”said Pericles.“Give me my robes！I am well with beholding. O Heaven bless my girl！But hark, what music is that？”—for now, either sent by some kind god or by his own delighted fancy deceived, he seemed to hear soft music.
“My lord, I hear none，”replied Helicanus.
“None？”said Pericles.“Why, it is the music of the spheres.”
As there was no music to be heard, Lysimachus concluded that the sudden joy had unsettled the prince's understanding, and he said，“It is not good tocross him；let him have his way.”And then they told him they heard the music；and he now complaining of a drowsy slumber coming over him, Lysimachus persuaded him to rest on a couch, and, placing a pillow under his head, he, quite overpowered with excess of joy, sank into a sound sleep, and Marina watched in silence by the couch of her sleeping parent.
While he slept, Pericles dreamed a dream which made him resolve to go to Ephesus. His dream was that Diana, the goddess of the Ephesians, appeared to him and commanded him to go to her temple at Ephesus, and there before her altar to declare the story of his life and misfortunes；and by her silver bow she swore that if he performed her injunction he should meet with some rare felicity.When he awoke, being miraculously refreshed, he told his dream, and that his resolution was to obey the bidding of the goddess.
Then Lysimachus invited Pericles to come on shore and refresh himself with such entertainment as he should find at Mitylene, which courteous offer Pericles accepting, agreed to tarry with him for the space of a day or two. During which time we may well suppose what feastings, what rejoicings, what costly shows and entertainments the governor made in Mitylene to greet the royal father of his dear Marina, whom in her obscure fortunes he had so respected.Nor did Pericles frown upon Lysimachus's suit, when he understood how he had honored his child in the days of her low estate, and that Marina showed herself not averse to his proposals；only he made it a condition, before he gave his consent, that they should visit with him the shrine of the Ephesian Diana；to whose temple they shortly after all three undertook a voyage；and, the goddess herself filling their sails with prosperous winds, after a few weeks they arrived in safety at Ephesus.
There was standing near the altar of the goddess, when Pericles with his train entered the temple, the good Cerimon（now grown very aged），who had restored Thaisa, the wife of Pericles, to life；and Thaisa, now a priestess of the temple, was standing before the altar；and though the many years he had passed in sorrow for her loss had much altered Pericles, Thaisa thought she knew her husband's features, and when he approached the altar and began to speak, sheremembered his voice, and listened to his words with wonder and a joyful amazement. And these were the words that Pericles spoke before the altar：
“Hail, Diana！to perform thy just commands I here confess myself the Prince of Tyre, who, frighted from my country, at Pentapolis wedded the fair Thaisa. She died at sea in childbed, but brought forth a maid-child called Marina.She at Tarsus was nursed with Dionysia, who at fourteen years thought to kill her, but her better stars brought her to Mitylene, by whose shores as I sailed her good fortunes brought this maid on board, where by her most clear remembrance she made herself known to be my daughter.”
Thaisa, unable to bear the transports which his words had raised in her, cried out，“You are, you are, O royal Pericles”and fainted.
“What means this woman？”said Pericles.“She dies！Gentlemen, help.”
“Sir，”said Cerimon，“if you have told Diana's altar true, this is your wife.”
“Reverend gentleman, no，”said Pericles.“I threw her overboard with these very arms.”
Cerimon then recounted how, early one tempestuous morning, this lady was thrown upon the Ephesian shore；how, opening the coffin, he found therein rich jewels and a paper；how, happily, he recovered her and placed her here in Diana's temple.
And now Thaisa, being restored from her swoon, said：“O my lord, are you not Pericles？Like him you speak, like him you are. Did you not name a tempest, a birth, and death？”
He, astonished, said，“The voice of dead Thaisa！”
“That Thaisa am I，”she replied，“supposed dead and drowned.”
“O true Diana！”exclaimed Pericles, in a passion of devout astonishment.
“And now，”said Thaisa，“I know you better. Such a ring as I see on your finger did the king my father give you when we with tears parted from him at Pentapolis.”
“Enough, you gods！”cried Pericles.“Your present kindness makes my past miseries sport. Oh, come, Thaisa, be buried a second time within these arms.”
And Marina said，“My heart leaps to be gone into my mother's bosom.”
Then did Pericles show his daughter to her mother, saying，“Look who kneels here, flesh of thy flesh, thy burthen at sea, and called Marina because she was yielded there.”
“Blessed and my own！”said Thaisa. And while she hung in rapturous joy over her child Pericles knelt before the altar, saying：
“Pure Diana, bless thee for thy vision. For this I will offer oblations nightly to thee.”
And then and there did Pericles, with the consent of Thaisa, solemnly affiance their daughter, the virtuous Marina, to the well-deserving Lysimachus in marriage.
Thus have we seen in Pericles, his queen, and daughter, a famous example of virtue assailed by calamity（through the sufferance of Heaven, to teach patience and constancy to men），under the same guidance becoming finally successful and triumphing over chance and change. In Helicanus we have beheld a notable pattern of truth, of faith, and loyalty, who, when he might have succeeded to a throne, chose rather to recall the rightful owner to his possession than to become great by another's wrong.In the worthy Cerimon, who restored Thaisa to life, we are instructed how goodness, directed by knowledge, in bestowing benefits upon mankind approaches to the nature of the gods.It only remains to be told that Dionysia, the wicked wife of Cleon, met with an end proportionable to her deserts.The inhabitants of Tarsus, when her cruel attempt upon Marina was known, rising in a body to revenge the daughter of their benefactor, and setting fire to the palace of Cleon, burned both him and her and their whole household, the gods seeming well pleased that so foul a murder, though but intentional and never carried into act, should be punished in a way befitting its enormity.李尔王/King Lear导读
不列颠国王李尔有三个女儿。法兰西国王和勃艮第公爵同时向李尔王的小女儿科迪莉亚求婚，这时都住在李尔的宫里。
李尔八十多岁了，身体已经衰弱，他决定让年轻人来治理国家。他把三个女儿叫到身边，想要听听三个女儿对自己的爱有多少，并且根据爱的多少来分配国国土给她们。
大女儿贡纳莉用甜言蜜语哄骗李尔，其实她的心里一点儿也不爱自己的父亲。李尔被大女儿的花言巧语所蒙骗，把三分之一的国土分给了大女儿。
二女儿里根和姐姐一样，并不爱自己的父亲，但她也虚伪地对父亲诉说自己的爱他。李尔也相信了二女儿的话，也把三分之一的国土分给了她。
轮到李尔最疼爱的小女儿向他诉说了。小女儿科迪莉亚刚才听着两位姐姐虚伪的话语，内心十分厌恶。她知道两位姐姐只是希望骗得国土，内心里并不爱自己的父亲。而她确确实实内心充满了对父亲的爱，但这份爱更多的是无声无息。所以她告诉李尔，她的爱不多不少，照着女儿的本分去爱着父亲。李尔不喜欢小女儿说的话，有些生气了。科迪莉亚还对李尔说，如果自己真的全心全意地爱着父亲，那就没有办法去爱自己的丈夫，那未来就不会像姐姐一样结婚了。
这些话激怒了老国王，他觉得自己的小女儿不爱自己，性格暴躁的他决定把原本应该分给小女儿的国土平分给了大女儿和二女儿，并且当众交出了国王的权力。他只提出了一个条件：未来他要在两个女儿的王宫里每个月轮流居住。科迪莉亚
李尔王的朝臣肯特觉得老国王的决定太荒唐了，他劝说国王，希望国王能收回命令。他替科迪莉亚说好话，他用性命担保科迪莉亚对国王的爱绝对不比她的姐姐们差。但是这时候的李尔王根本听不进肯特的劝说。他驱逐了肯特，要求肯特立刻离开不列颠的土地。于是肯特离开了。
因为科迪莉亚无法继承父亲的国土，勃艮第公爵立刻决定不再向她求婚。但法兰西国王仍然坚持自己对科迪莉亚的爱，他了解科迪莉亚之所以失去父亲的宠爱只是因为她不擅长花言巧语，她的品德是她最可贵的嫁妆。于是，科迪莉亚远嫁去了法兰西。临别时，两位姐姐不停地嘲讽妹妹。科迪莉亚不放心自己的父亲，但是又没有办法，只能离开了。
科迪莉亚刚走，她的姐姐们就卸下了伪装。按照约定，李尔的第一个月住在大女儿贡纳莉的宫里。贡纳莉得到了她想要得到的一切，于是她开始讨厌自己的父亲，她找出各种理由躲着父亲，正是由于她的态度，连仆人对待李尔的态度都越来越冷淡。李尔装作看不出这种变化，因为他无法接受自己固执所犯下的错误。
那位被驱逐的肯特，对老国王一直忠心耿耿。他化妆成一个粗鲁的仆人，要求国王雇佣他。李尔没有看出这就是当年位高权重的肯特，只以为自己雇佣了一个普通的仆人凯厄斯。凯厄斯替李尔教训了贡纳莉的傲慢管家，这让他和李尔的关系越来越亲近了。
同时跟在李尔身边的还有一位正直的大臣，他编了很多曲子讽刺李尔错误的决定，让他现在沦入这么凄惨的地步，连下人都敢欺负他。
贡纳莉不仅仅对父亲越来越冷淡，同时她要求李尔去掉自己的排场，削减侍从的数量，这让李尔受不了了。他大声咒骂大女儿，用最恶毒的语言攻击她。贡纳莉的丈夫奥尔巴尼公爵向老国王解释说这一切自己并没有参加，但李尔根本听不进去。他决定到二女儿里根那里去。这时候李尔才感到自己对待小女儿科迪莉亚太过分了。
李尔派凯厄斯去给二女儿送信，恰巧碰到了同样给里根送信的贡纳莉的信使。这个信使就是当初被凯厄斯教训过的管家。凯厄斯再次狠狠地教训了那个管家。里根听说了这件事，就给凯厄斯戴上了脚枷。这样李尔走进城堡首先看到的就是自己忠心的仆人屈辱地坐在那里。
李尔要求二女儿来见自己，却被拒绝了。在他的一再坚持下，二女儿同他见了面，同时大女儿贡纳莉也一起来了。里根劝李尔回到姐姐那里，并且听从姐姐的安排。李尔觉得自己需要到女儿那里讨吃讨穿太荒唐了，坚持要在二女儿这里住。于是里根也提出了自己的要求，她也要求李尔减少仆从。两个女儿像是在比赛一样剥夺着李尔曾经作为国王的尊严，而且越来越过分。李尔一方面受到虐待，一方面后悔自己抛弃了国家，他的神志开始不正常了。
外面狂风暴雨，李尔和他的侍从被女儿从家中驱逐出去。在大雨中，李尔越发不清醒了，他感觉自己实在是最糊涂的人，他的内心充满了对两个忘恩负义的女儿的恨。凯厄斯把李尔安顿在了一个仍忠于国王的城堡里，自己兼程赶到了科迪莉亚的王宫。听到父亲的悲惨境遇，科迪莉亚要求她的丈夫允许自己带领人马去讨伐那两个恶毒的女人。于是她带领自己的军队回到了不列颠。
科迪莉亚见到了有些精神失常的李尔，她派了最高明的医生医治李尔。这时候的李尔神志越发不清醒，他已经认不出科迪莉亚了。但是他仍希望能够得到女儿的原谅，对于自己过去因为固执所犯下的错，他感到深深的悔恨。科迪莉亚安慰着李尔，她发誓自己会永远爱自己的父亲，会好好地照顾他。
那大女儿贡纳莉和二女儿里根现在更加肆无忌惮。她们对待自己的丈夫也不再忠诚。她们同时喜欢上了一个叫做埃德蒙的坏家伙。恰巧里根的丈夫死了，里根立刻宣布要和埃德蒙结婚。这引起了姐姐的嫉妒，她设法毒死了里根。这个阴谋被贡纳莉的丈夫发现了，他把贡纳莉关进了监牢，然而不久贡纳莉也自杀了。
科迪莉亚也没有得到更幸运的下场，她带领的军队被埃德蒙的军队打败了，科迪莉亚落入了埃德蒙的监狱，最后也被害死了。不久以后，李尔也死了。忠心的肯特很想让老国王知道自己和凯厄斯是同一个人，无奈国王发疯了，很快肯特也随着老国王走进了坟墓。那个叫做埃德蒙的坏家伙后来死于一次决斗，得到了应有的惩罚。贡纳莉的丈夫并没有参与害死科迪莉亚的恶行，也没有鼓励自己的妻子虐待父亲，李尔死后他就做了不列颠的国王。
L ear, King of Britain, had three daughters：Goneril, wife to the Duke of Albany；Regan, wife to the Duke of Cornwall；and Cordelia, a young maid, for whose love the King of France and Duke of Burgundy were joint suitors, and were at this time making stay for that purpose in the court of Lear.
The old king, worn out with age and the fatigues of government, he being more than fourscore years old, determined to take no further part in state affairs, but to leave the management to younger strengths, that he might have time to prepare for death, which must at no long period ensue. With this intent he called his three daughters to him, to know from their own lips which of them loved him best, that he might part his kingdom among them in such proportions as their affection for him should seem to deserve.
Goneril, the eldest, declared that she loved her father more than words could give out, that he was dearer to her than the light of her own eyes, dearer than life and liberty, with a deal of such professing stuff, which is easy to counterfeit where there is no real love, only a few fine words delivered with confidence being wanted in that case. The king, delighted to hear from her own mouth this assurance of her love, and thinking truly that her heart went with it, in a fit of fatherly fondness bestowed upon her and her husband one-third of his ample kingdom.
Then calling to him his second daughter he demanded what she had to say. Regan, who was made of the same hollow metal as her sister, was not a whit behind in her professions, but rather declared that what her sister had spoken came short of the love which she professed to bear for his Highness；in so much that she found all other joys dead in comparison with the pleasure which she took in the love of her dear king and father.
Lear blessed himself in having such loving children, as he thought；and could do no less, after the handsome assurances which Regan had made, than bestow a third of his kingdom upon her and her husband, equal in size to that which he had already given away to Goneril.
Then turning to his youngest daughter, Cordelia, whom he called his joy, he asked what she had to say, thinking no doubt that she would glad his ears with the same loving speeches which her sisters had uttered, or rather that her expressions would be so much stronger than theirs, as she had always been his darling, and favored by him above either of them. But Cordelia, disgusted with the flattery of her sisters, whose hearts she knew were far from their lips, and seeing that all their coaxing speeches were only intended to wheedle the old king out of his dominions, that they and their husbands might reign in his lifetime, made no other reply but this—that she loved his Majesty according to her duty, neither more nor less.
The king, shocked with this appearance of ingratitude in his favorite child, desired her to consider her words and to mend her speech, lest it should mar her fortunes.
Cordelia then told her father that he was her father, that he had given her breeding, and loved her；that she returned those duties back as was most fit, and did obey him, love him, and most honor him. But that she could not frame her mouth to such large speeches as her sisters had done, or promise to love nothing else in the world.Why had her sisters husbands if（as they said）they had no love for anything but their father？If she should ever wed, she was sure the lord to whom she gave her husband would want half her love, half of her care and duty；she should never marry like her sisters, to love her father all.科迪莉亚被父亲冷落
Cordelia, who in earnest loved her old father even almost extravagantly as her sisters pretended to do, would have plainly told him so at any other time, in more daughter-like and loving terms, and without these qualifications, which did indeed sound a little ungracious；but after the crafty, flattering speeches of her sisters, which she had seen draw such extravagant rewards, she thought the handsomest thing she could do was to love and be silent. This put her affection out of suspicion of mercenary ends, and showed that she loved, but not for gain；and that her professions, the less ostentatious they were, had so much the more of truth and sincerity than her sisters'.
This plainness of speech, which Lear called pride, so enraged the old monarch—who in his best of times always showed much of spleen and rashness, and in whom the dotage incident to old age had so clouded over his reason that he could not discern truth from flattery, nor a gaypainted speech from words that came from the heart—that in a fury of resentment he retracted the third part of his kingdom which yet remained, and which he had reserved for Cordelia, and gave it away from her, sharing it equally between her two sisters and their husbands, the Dukes of Albany and Cornwall, whom he now called to him and in presence of all his courtiers, bestowing a coronet between them, invested them jointly with all the power, revenue, and execution of government, only retaining to himself the name of king；all the rest of royalty he resigned, with this reservation, that himself, with a hundred knights for his attendants, was to be maintained by monthly course in each of his daughters'palaces in turn.
So preposterous a disposal of his kingdom, so little guided by reason, and so much by passion, filled all his courtiers with astonishment and sorrow；but none of them had the courage to interpose between this incensed king and his wrath, except the Earl of Kent, who was beginning to speak a good word for Cordelia, when the passionate Lear on pain of death commanded him to desist；but the good Kent was not so to be repelled. He had been ever loyal to Lear, whom he had honored as a king, loved as a father, followed as a master；and he had never esteemed his life further than as a pawn to wage against his royal master's enemies, nor feared to lose it when Lear's safety was the motive；nor, now that Lear was most his own enemy, did this faithful servant of the king forget his old principles, but manfully opposed Lear to do Lear good；and was unmannerly only because Lear was mad.He had been a most faithful counselor in times past to the king, and he besought him now that he would see with his eyes（as he had done in many weighty matters）and go by his advice still, and in his best consideration recall this hideous rashness；for he would answer with his life his judgment that Lear's youngest daughter did not love him least, nor were those empty-hearted whose low sound gave no token of hollowness.When power bowed to flattery, honor was bound to plainness.For Lear's threats, what could he do to him whose life was already at his service？That should not hinder duty from speaking.扮成仆人的肯特
The honest freedom of this good Earl of Kent only stirred up the king's wrath the more, and, like a frantic patient who kills his physician and loves his mortal disease, he banished this true servant, and allotted him but five days to make his preparations for departure；but if on the sixth his hated person was found within the realm of Britain, that moment was to be his death. And Kent bade farewell to the king, and said that, since he chose to show himself in such fashion, it was but banishment to stay there；and before he went he recommended Cordelia to the protection of the gods, the maid who had so rightly thought and so discreetly spoken；and only wished that her sisters'large speeches might be answered with deeds of love；and then he went, as he said, to shape his old course to a new country.
The King of France and Duke of Burgundy were now called in to hear the determination of Lear about his youngest daughter, and to know whether they would persist in their courtship to Cordelia, now that she was under her father's displeasure and had no fortune but her own person to recommend her. And the Duke of Burgundy declined the match, and would not take her to wife upon such conditions.But the King of France, understanding what the nature of the fault had been which had lost her the love of her father—that it was only a tardiness of speech and the not being able to frame her tongue to flattery like her sisters—took this young maid by the hand and, saying that her virtues were a dowry above a kingdom, bade Cordelia to take farewell of her sisters and of her father, though he had been unkind, and she should go with him and be Queen of him and of fair France, and reign over fairer possessions than her sisters. And he called the Duke of Burgundy, in contempt, a waterish duke, because his love for this young maid had in a moment run all away like water.李尔王被女儿赶了出来
Then Cordelia with weeping eyes took leave of her sisters, and besought them to love their father well and make good their professions；and they sullenly told her not to prescribe to them, for they knew their duty, but to strive to content her husband, who had taken her（as they tauntingly expressed it）as Fortune's alms. And Cordelia with a heavy heart departed, for she knew the cunning of her sisters and she wished her father in better hands than she was about to leave him in.
Cordelia was no sooner gone than the devilish dispositions of her sisters began to show themselves‘in their true colors. Even before the expiration of the first month, which Lear was to spend by agreement, with his, daughter, Goneril, the old king began to find out the difference between promises and performances.This wretch, having got from her father all that he had to bestow, even to the giving away of the crown from off his head, began to grudge even those small remnants of royalty which the old man had reserved to himself, to please his fancy with the idea of being still a king.She could not bear to see him and his knights.Every time she met her father she put on a frowning countenance；and when the old man wanted to speak with her she would feign sickness or anything to get rid of the sight of him, for it was plain that she esteemed his old age a useless burden and his attendants an unnecessary expense；not only she herself slackened in her expressions of duty to the king, but by her example, and（it is to be feared）not without her private instructions, her very servants affected to treat him with neglect, and would either refuse to obey his orders or still more contemptuously pretend not to hear them.Lear could not but perceive this alteration in the behavior of his daughter, but he shut his eyes against it as long as he could, as people commonly are unwillingto believe the unpleasant consequences which their own mistakes and obstinacy have brought upon them.
True love and fidelity are no more to be estranged by ILL, than falsehood and hollow-heartedness can be conciliated by good, usage. This eminently appears in the instance of the good Earl of Kent, who, though banished by Lear, and his life made forfeit if he were found in Britain, chose to stay and abide all consequences as long as there was a chance of his being useful to the king his master.See to what mean shifts and disguises poor loyalty is forced to submit sometimes；yet it counts nothing base or unworthy so as it can but do service where it owes an obligation！In the disguise of a serving-man, all his greatness and pomp laid aside, this good earl proffered his services to the king, who, not knowing him to be Kent in that disguise, but pleased with a certain plainness, or rather bluntness, in his answers, which the earl put on（so different from that smooth, oily flattery which he had so much reason to be sick of, having found the effects not answerable in his daughter），a bargain was quickly struck, and Lear took Kent into his service by the name of Caius, as he called himself, never suspecting him to be his once great favorite, the high and mighty Earl of Kent.
This Caius quickly found means to show his fidelity and love to his royal master, for, Goneril's steward that same day behaving in a disrespectful manner to Lear, and giving him saucy looks and language, as no doubt he was secretly encouraged to do by his mistress, Caius, not enduring to hear so open an affront put upon his Majesty, made no more ado, but presently tripped up his heels and laid the unmannerly slave in the kennel；for which friendly service Lear became more and more attached to him.
Nor was Kent the only friend Lear had. In his degree, and as far as so insignificant a personage could show his love, the poor fool, or jester, that had been of his palace while Lear had a palace, as it was the custom of kings and great personages at that time to keep a fool（as he was called）to make them sport after serious business—this poor fool clung to Lear after he had given away his crown, and by his witty sayings would keep up his good-humor, though he could not refrain sometimes from jeering at his master for his imprudence in uncrowning himself and giving all away to his daughters；at which time, as he rhymingly expressed it, these daughters—李尔王和小女儿
“For sudden joy did weep，
And I for sorrow sung，
That such a king should play bo-peep
And go the fools among.”
And in such wild sayings, and scraps of songs, of which he had plenty, this pleasant, honest fool poured out his heart even in the presence of Goneril herself, in many a bitter taunt and jest which cut to the quick, such as comparing the king to the hedgesparrow, who feeds the young of the cuckoo till they grow old enough, and then has its head bit off for its pains；and saying that an ass may know when the cart draws the horse（meaning that Lear's daughters, that ought to go behind, now ranked before their father）；and that Lear was no longer Lear, but the shadow of Lear. For which free speeches he was once or twice threatened to be whipped.
The coolness and falling off of respect which Lear had begun to perceive were not all which this foolish fond father was to suffer from his unworthy daughter. She now plainly told him that his staying in her palace was inconvenient so long as he insisted upon keeping up an establishment of a hundred knights；that this establishment was useless and expensive and only served to fill her court with riot and feasting；and she prayed him that he would lessen their number and keep none but old men about him, such as himself, and fitting his age.
Lear at first could not believe his eyes or ears, nor that it was his daughter who spoke so unkindly. He could not believe that she who had received a crown from him could seek to cut off his train and grudge him the respect due to his old age.But she persisting in her undutiful demand, the old man's rage was so excited that he called her a detested kite and said that she spoke an untruth；and so indeed she did, for the hundred knights were all men of choice behavior and sobriety of manners, skilled in all particulars of duty, and not given to rioting or feasting, as she said.And he bid his horses to be prepared, for he would go to his other daughter, Regan, he and his hundred knights；and he spoke of ingratitude, and said it was a marble-hearted devil, and showed more hideous in a child than the sea-monster.And he cursed his eldest daughter, Goneril, so as was terrible to hear, praying that she might never have a child, or, if she had, that it might live to return that scorn and contempt upon her which she had shown to him；that she might feel how sharper than a serpent's tooth it was to have a thankless child. And Goneril's husband, the Duke of Albany, beginning to excuse himself for any share which Lear might suppose he had in the unkindness, Lear would not hear him out, but in a rage ordered his horses to be saddled and set out with his followers for the abode of Regan, his other daughter.And Lear thought to himself how small the fault of Cordelia（if it was a fault）now appeared in comparison with her sister's, and he wept；and then he was ashamed that such a creature as Goneril should have so much power over his manhood as to make him weep.
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