lawyer; you gave me nothing for't: Can you make || no need to care for her frowning; now thou art an no use of nothing, nuncle? Lear. Why, no, boy; nothing can be made out of nothing. Fool. Pr'ythee, tell him, so much the rent of his land comes to; he will not believe a fool. [To Kent. Lear. A bitter fool! Fool. Dost thou know the difference, my boy, between a bitter fool and a sweet fool? Lear. No, lad; teach me. Fool. That lord, that counsel'd thee The sweet and bitter fool Will presently appear; The other found out there. that thou wast born with. Kent. This is not altogether fool, my lord. Fool. No, 'faith, lords and great men will not let me; if I had a monopoly out, they would have part on't and ladies too, they will not let me have all fool to myself; they'll be snatching.-Give me an egg, nuncle, and I'll give thee two crowns. : Lear. What two crowns shall they be? Fool. Why, after I have cut the egg i'the middle, and eat up the meat, the two crowns of the egg. When thou clovest thy crown i'the middle, and gavest away both parts, thou borest thine ass on thy back over the dirt: Thou hadst little wit in thy bald crown, when thou gavest thy golden one away. If I speak like myself in this, let him be whipp'd that first finds it so. Fools had ne'er less gracel in a year; [Singing Their manners are so apish. Lear. When were you wont to be so full of songs, sirrah? Fool. I have used it, nuncle, ever since thou madest thy daughters thy mother: for when thou gavest them the rod, and put'st down thine own breeches, Then they for sudden joy did weep, [Singing. Pr'ythee, nuncle, keep a school-master that can teach thy fool to lie; I would fain learn to lie. Lear. If you lie, sirrah, we'll have you whipp'd. Fool. I marvel, what kin thou and thy daughters are: they'll have me whipp'd for speaking true, thou❜lt have me whipp'd for lying; and, sometimes, I am whipp'd for holding my peace. I had rather be any kind of thing, than a fool; and yet I would not be thee, nuncle; thou hast pared thy wit o'both sides, and left nothing i'the middle: Here comes one o'the parings. 03 without a figure: I am better than thou art now; I am a fool, thou art nothing.-Yes, forsooth, I will hold my tongue; so your face [To Gon.] bids me, though you say nothing. Mum, mum, He that keeps nor crust nor crumb, That's a sheal'd peascod.4 [Pointing to Lear. Gon. Not only, sir, this your all-licens'd fool, But other of your insolent retinue Do hourly carp and quarrel; breaking forth I had thought, by making this well known unto you, Fool. For you trow, nuncle, The hedge-sparrow fed the cuckoo so long, So out went the candle, and we were left darkling. Gon. Come, sir, I would, you would make use of that good wisdom whereof I know you are fraught ;7 and put away these dispositions, which of late transform you from what you rightly are. Fool. May not an ass know when the cart draws the horse?-Whoop, Jug! I love thee. Lear. Does any here know me?-Why this is not Lear: does Lear walk thus? speak thus ? his discernings are lethargied.-Sleeping or waking? Where are his eyes? Either his notion weakens, or -Ha! sure 'tis not so.-Who is it that can tell me who I am?-Lear's shadow? I would learn that; for by the marks of sovereignty, knowledge, and reason, I should be false persuaded I had daugh ters. Fool. Which they will make an obedient father. This admiration is much o'the favours As you are old and reverend, you should be wise: Lear. Gon. You strike my people; and your disorder'd rabble Make servants of their betters. nature From the fix'd place; drew from my heart all love, Lear. It inay be so, my lord.-Hear, nature, hear; Gon. Never afflict yourself to know the cause; But let his disposition have that scope That dotage gives it. Re-enter Lear. Lear. What, fifty of my followers, at a clap! Within a fortnight? Alb. What's the matter, sir! Lear. I'll tell thee;-Life and death! I am asham'd That thou hast power to shake my manhood thus: [To Goneril. That these hot tears, which break from me perforce, Should make thee worth them.-Blasts and fogs upon thee! The untented4 woundings of a father's curs Gon. Do you mark that, my lord? To the great love I bear you, (1) The rack. (2) Degraded. (3) Falling. (4) Undressed. Gon. This man hath had good counsel :-A hundred knights! 'Tis politic, and safe, to let him keep At point, a hundred knights. Yes, that on every dream, Gon. Each buzz, each fancy, each complaint, dislike, Have you not spoken 'gainst the duke of Cornwall? Edg. I am sure on't, not a word. Some blood drawn on me would beget opinion Do more than this in sport.-Father! father! Lear. To take it again perforce!-Monster in-Stop, stop! No help? gratitude! Fool. If thou wert my fool, nuncle, I'd have thee beaten for being old before thy time. Lear. How's that? Fool. Thou should'st not have been old, before thou hadst been wise. Lear. O let me not be mad, not mad, sweet heaven! Keep me in temper; I would not be mad! Enter Gentleman. How now! Are the horses ready? Gent. Ready, my lord. Lear. Come, boy. Fool. She that is maid now, and laughs at my Shall not be a maid long, unless things be cut ACT II. Enter Gloster, and Servants with torches. Mumbling of wicked charms, conjuring the moon Glo. Edm. Look, sir, I bleed. But where is he? Where is the villain, Edmund? Edm. Fled this way, sir. When by no means he could Glo. Pursue him, ho!-Go after.-[Exit Serv.] Edm. Persuade me to the murder of your lord- But that I told him, the revenging gods 'Gainst parricides did all their thunders bend; Spoke, with how manifold and strong a bond The child was bound to the father;-Sir, in fine, Seeing how loathly opposite I stood To his unnatural purpose, in fell motion, My unprovided body, lanc'd mine arm: With his prepared sword, he charges home But when he saw my best alarum'd spirits, Bold in the quarrel's right, rous'd to the encounter, Or whether gasted3 by the noise I made, Cur. And you, sir. I have been with your fa-Full suddenly he fled. ther; and given him notice, that the duke of Cornwall, and Regan his duchess, will be here with him to-night. SCENE I-A court within the castle of the Earl of Gloster. Enter Edmund and Curan, meeting. Edm. Save thee, Curan. Edm. How comes that? Cur. Nay, I know not: You have heard of the news abroad; I mean, the whispered ones, for they are yet but ear-kissing arguments? Edm. Not I; Pray you, what are they? Cur. You may then, in time. Fare you well, sir. This weaves itself perforce into my business! Enter Edgar. My father watches :-O sir, fly this place; Glo. Let him fly far: master, Edm. When I dissuaded him from his intent, To thy suggestion, plot, and damned practice: Strong and fasten'd villain? You have now the good advantage of the night :- Would he deny his letter?--I never got him. Hark, the duke's trumpets! I know not why he comes: All ports I'll bar; the villain shall not 'scape; Enter Cornwall, Regan, and Attendants. Corn. How now, my noble friend? since I came hither, (Which I can call but now,) I have heard strange news. Reg. If it be true, all vengeance comes too short, Which can pursue the offender. How dost, my lord? Glo. O, madam, my old heart is crack'd, is crack'd! Reg. What, did my father's godson seek your life? He whom my father nam'd? your Edgar? Glo. O, lady, lady, shame would have it hid! That tend upon my father? It is too bad, too bad.- I know not, madam: Yes, madam, he was. Reg. No marvel then, though he were ill affected; Corn. Nor I, assure thee, Regan. 'Twas my duty, sir. Edm. Glo. Truly, however else. I shall serve you, sir, Glo. For him I thank your grace. night. Occasions, noble Gloster, of some poize,4 Glo. house? (1) i. e. Capable of succeeding to my land. Kent. Ay. Stew. Where may we set our horses? Stew. Pr'ythee, if thou love me, tell me. Stew. Why, then I care not for thee. Kent. If I had thee in Lipsbury pinfold, I would make thee care for me. Stew. Why dost thou use me thus? I know thee not. Kent. Fellow, I know thee. Stew. What dost thou know me for? Kent. A knave; a rascal, an eater of broken meats; a base, proud, shallow, beggarly, threesuited, hundred-pound, filthy worsted-stocking knave; a lily-liver'd, action-taking knave; a whoreson, glass-gazing, superserviceable, finical rogue; one-trunk-inheriting slave; one that wouldest be a || bawd, in way of good service, and art nothing but the composition of a knave, beggar, coward, pander, and the son and heir of a mongrel bitch: one whom I will beat into clamorous whining, if thou deny'st the least syllable of thy addition.5 Stew. Why, what a monstrous fellow art thou, thus to rail on one, that is neither known of thee, nor knows thee! Kent. What a brazen-faced varlet art thou, to deny thou know'st me! Is it two days ago, since 1 tripped up thy heels, and beat thee before the king? Draw, you rogue: for, though it be night, the moon shines; I'll make a sop o'the moonshine of you: Draw, you whoreson cullionly barbermonger, draw. [Drawing his sword. Stew. Away; I have nothing to do with thee. Kent. Draw, you rascal: you come with letters against the king; and take Vanity6 the puppet's part, against the royalty of her father: Draw, you rogue, or I'll so carbonado your shanks :-draw, you rascal; come your ways. Stew. Help, ho! murder! help! Kent. Strike, you slave; stand, rogue, stand; Enter Edmund, Cornwall, Regan, Gloster, and Edm. How now? what's the matter? Part. Kent. With you, goodman boy, if you please; come, I'll flesh you; come on, young master. Glo. Weapons! arms! What's the matter here? He dies that strikes again: What is the matter? Corn. What is your difference? speak. Kent. No marvel, you have so bestirred your valour. You cowardly rascal, nature disclaims in thee; a tailor made thee. Corn. Thou art a strange fellow: a tailor make a man? Kent. Ay, a tailor, sir; a stone-cutter, or a painter, could not have made him so ill, though they had been but two hours at the trade. Corn. Speak yet, how grew your quarrel? At suit of his grey beard, Kent. Thou whoreson zed! thou unnecessary letter!-My lord, if you will give me leave, I will tread this unbolted? villain into mortar, and daub (5) Titles. (6) A character in the old moralities. the wall of a jakes with him.-Spare my grey || Drew on me here. beard, you wagtail? Corn. Peace, sirrah! You beastly knave, know you no reverence? Kent. That such a slave as this should wear a Who wears no honesty. Such smiling rogues as these, Like rats, oft bite the holy cords atwain, Kent. None of these rogues, and cowards, Fetch forth the stocks, ho! You stubborn ancient knave, you reverend brag gart, Which are too intrinse2 t'unloose: smooth every Against the grace and person of my master, passion That in the natures of their lords rebels; Say that. Kent. No contraries hold more antipathy, Than I and such a knave. Corn. Why dost thou call him knave? What's his offence? Stocking his messenger. Corn. too. Kent. Why, madam, if I were your father's dog, Sir, being his knave, I will. Kent. His countenance likes me not.6 Corn. [Kent is put in the stocks. Come, my good lord; away. [Exeunt Regan and Cornwall. Glo. I am sorry for thee, friend; 'tis the duke's pleasure, Whose disposition, all the world well knows, Kent. Pray do not, sir: I have watch'd, and Some time I shall sleep out, the rest I'll whistle. Glo. The duke's to blame in this; 'twill be ill saw !9 Kent. To go out of my dialect, which you dis-Thou out of heaven's benediction com'st It pleas'd the king his master, very late, Approach, thou beacon to this under globe, Fortune, good night; smile once more; turn thy SCENE III-A part of the heath. Edg. I heard myself proclaim'd; Enter (6) i. e. Pleases me not. (7) Simple or rustic. |