ACT I
Sc. II

EDG. Do you busy yourself with that?
EDм. I promise you, the effects he writes of succeed un-
happily 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, banish-
ment of friends, dissipation of cohorts, nuptial breaches,
and I know not what,

EDG. How long have you been a sectary astronomical?
EDM. Come, come; when saw you my father last? 150
EDG. The night gone by.

EDм. Spake you with him?

EDG. Ay, two hours together.

EDM. Parted you in good terms? Found you no displeasure in him by word nor countenance?

EDG. None at all.

EDM. 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.

162

EDG. Some villain hath done me wrong.
EDM. That's my fear. I pray you, have a continent
forbearance till the speed of his rage goes slower; and,

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 arm'd.

EDG. Arm'd, Brother!

170

EDM. Brother, I advise you to the best; I am no honest man if there be any good meaning toward you. I have told you what I have seen and heard; but faintly, nothing like the image and horror of it: pray you,

away.

EDG. Shall I hear from you anon?

EDM. I do serve you in this business.

[Exit EDGAR

A credulous father! and a brother noble,
Whose nature is so far from doing harms,
That he suspects none; on whose foolish honesty

180

า

My practices 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.

ACT I

Sc. II

[exit.

SCENE III. The DUKE OF ALBANY'S Palace.

Enter GONERIL, and OSWALD, her Steward.

GON. Did my father strike my gentleman for chiding of his Fool?

Osw. Ay, Madam.

GON. By day and night he wrongs me; every hour

He flashes into one gross crime or other,

That sets us all at odds: I'll not endure it:
His knights grow riotous, and himself upbraids us
On every trifle. When he returns from hunting,
I will not speak with him; say I am sick:

If you come slack of former services,
You shall do well; the fault of it I'll answer.

Osw. He's coming, Madam; I hear him.

ΤΟ

[Horns within.

GON. Put on what weary negligence you please,

You and your fellows; I'ld have it come to ques

tion:

If he distaste it, let him to my sister,

Whose mind and mine, I know, in that are one,

Not to be over-rul'd. Idle old Man,

That still would manage those authorities

That he hath given away! Now, by my life,
Old fools are babes again; and must be us'd
With checks as flatteries-when they are seen abus'd.
Remember what I have said.

Osw.

Well, Madam.

20

GON. And let his knights have colder looks among

you:

What grows of it, no matter: advise your fellows so.

I would breed from hence occasions, and I shall,
That I may speak: I'll write straight to my sister,
To hold my very course. Prepare for dinner.

[exeunt.

ACT I
Sc. IV

SCENE IV. A Hall in the Same.

Enter KENT, disguised.

KENT. If but as well I other accents borrow,
That can my speech defuse, my good intent
May carry through itself to that full issue

For which I raz'd my likeness. Now, banish'd Kent,
If thou canst serve where thou dost stand condemn'd,
So may it come thy master, whom thou lov'st,
Shall find thee full of labours.

Horns within. Enter LEAR, Knights, and Attendants.
LEAR. Let me not stay a jot for dinner; go get it ready.
[Exit an Attendant.] How now! what art thou?
KENT. A man, Sir.

ΤΟ

LEAR. What dost thou profess? What would'st thou with us?

KENT. I do profess to be no less than I seem; to serve him truly that will put me in trust; to love him that is honest; to converse with him that is wise, and says little; to fear judgment; to fight when I cannot choose; and to eat no fish.

LEAR. What art thou?

KENT. A very honest-hearted fellow, and as poor as the
King.

20

LEAR. If thou be as poor for a subject as he is for a King, thou art poor enough. What would'st thou ?

KENT. Service.

LEAR. Who would'st thou serve?

KENT. You.

LEAR. Dost thou know me, Fellow?

KENT. No, Sir; but you have that in your countenance

which I would fain call master.

LEAR. What's that?

KENT. Authority.

LEAR. What services canst thou do?

30

KENT. I can keep honest counsel, ride, run, mar a curious tale in telling it, and deliver a plain message bluntly:

that which ordinary men are fit for, I am qualified in;

and the best of me is diligence. LEAR. How old art thou?

KENT. Not so young, Sir, to love a woman for singing,

39

nor so old to doat on her for any thing: I have years on my back forty-eight. LEAR. Follow me; thou shalt serve me: if I like thee no worse after dinner, I will not part from thee yet. Dinner, ho, dinner! Where's my knave? my Fool? Go you, and call my Fool hither. [Exit an Attendant.

Enter Oswald.

You, you, sirrah, where's my daughter?

Osw. So please you—

[exit.

LEAR. What says the fellow there? Call the clotpoll back. [Exit a Knight.] Where's my Fool, ho? I think the world's asleep.

Re-enter the Knight.

How now! where's that mongrel ?

49

KNIGHT. He says, my Lord, your daughter is not well. LEAR. Why came not the slave back to me when I call'd him?

KNIGHT. Sir, he answer'd me in the roundest manner, he would not.

LEAR. He would not!

KNIGHT. My Lord, I know not what the matter is; but, to my judgment, your Highness is not entertain'd with that ceremonious affection as you were wont: there's a great abatement of kindness appears as well in the general dependants as in the Duke himself also and your daughter.

LEAR. Ha! sayest thou so?

61

KNIGHT. I beseech you, pardon me, my Lord, if I be mistaken; for my duty cannot be silent when I think your Highness wrong'd.

LEAR. Thou but remember'st me of mine own conception: I have perceiv'd a most faint neglect of late; which I have rather blam'd as mine own jealous curiosity than as a very pretence and purpose of unkindness: I will

VIII: 00

281

ACT I
Sc. IV

look further into 't. But where's my Fool? I have not seen him this two days.

71

KNIGHT. Since my young Lady's going into France, Sir, the Fool hath much pin'd away.

LEAR. No more of that; I have noted it well. Go you, and tell my daughter I would speak with her. [Exit an Attendant.] Go you, call hither my Fool. [Exit an Attendant.]

Re-enter Oswald.

O, you Sir, you, come you hither, Sir: who am I, Sir? Osw. My Lady's father.

LEAR. My Lady's father! my Lord's knave: you whoreson Dog! you Slave! you Cur!

81

Osw. I am none of these, my Lord; I beseech your pardon.

LEAR. Do you bandy looks with me, you Rascal?

Osw. I'll not be struck, my Lord.

[striking him.

KENT. Nor tripp'd neither, you base Football Player.

88

[tripping up his heels. LEAR. I thank thee, Fellow; thou servest me, and I'll love thee. KENT. Come, Sir, arise, away! I'll teach you differences: away, away! If you will measure your lubber's length again, tarry but away! go to; have you wisdom? so. [pushes OSWALD out. LEAR. Now, my friendly Knave, I thank thee: there's earnest of thy service. [giving KENT money.

Enter the Fool.

FOOL. Let me hire him too. Here's my coxcomb.

LEAR. How now, my pretty Knave! how dost thou ?
FOOL. Sirrah, you were best take my coxcomb.
KENT. Why, Fool?

97

FOOL. Why, for taking one's part that's out of favour. Nay, an thou canst not smile as the wind sits, thou 'lt catch cold shortly: there, take my coxcomb. Why, this fellow has banish'd two on's daughters, and did