Enter Steward.

You, you, sirrah, where's my daughter? Stew. So please you,[Exit. Lear. What says the fellow there? Call the clotpoll back.-Where's my fool, ho?-I think the world's asleep.-How now? where's that mongrel? [not well. Knight. He says, my lord, your daughter is 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!

Lear. How now, my pretty knave? how dost thou?

Fool, Sirrah, you were best take my coxcomb. Kent. Why, fool?

Fool. Why? For taking one's part that is 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 of his daughters, and did the third a blessing against his will: if thou follow him, thou must needs wear my coxcomb.---How now, nuncle? 'Would, I had two coxcombs, and two daughters!

Lear. Why, my boy?

Fool. If I gave them all my living, I'd keep my coxcombs myself: There's mine; beg another of thy daughters.

Lear. Take heed, sirrah; the whip.

Fool. Truth's a dog that must to kennel? he must be whipped out, when Lady, the brach, may stand by the fire, and stink.

Lear. A pestilent gall to me!

Fool. Sirrah, I'll teach thee a speech.
Lear. Do.

Fool. Mark it, nuncle:

Have more than thou showest,
Speak less than thou knowest,
Lend less than thou owest,
Ride more than thou goest,
Learn more than thou trowest,
Set less than thou throwest,
Leave thy drink and thy whore,
And keep in-a-door,

And thou shalt have more

Than two tens to a score. Lear, This is nothing, fool.

Fool. Then 'tis like the breath of an unfee'd lawyer; you gave me nothing for't; Can you make no use of nothing, nuncle?

Lear. Why, no, boy: nothing can be made

Knight. Since my young lady's going into France, sir, the fool hath much pined away.

Lear. No more of that: I have noted it well. -Go you, and tell my daughter I would speak with her.-Go you, and call hither my fool.Re-enter Steward.

O, you sir, you sir, come you hither: Who am Stew. My lady's father. [I, sir?

Lear. My lady's father! my lord's knave: you whoreson dog! you slave! you cur!

Stew. I am none of this, my lord: I beseech you, pardon me.

Lear. Do you bandy looks with me, you rascal? [Striking him. Stew. I'll not be struck, my lord. Kent. Nor tripped neither; you base foot-ball player. [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 the Steward out. Lear. Now, my friendly knave, I thank thee: there's earnest of thy service.

Giving KENT Money.

Enter Fool.

Fool. Let me hire him too;-Here's my coxcomb. [Giving KENT his Cap.

[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 counsell'd thee
To give away thy land,
Come place him here by me,-

Or do thou for him stand:
The sweet and bitter fool

Will presently appear;
The one in motley here,

The other found out there.
Lear. Dost thou call me fool, boy?
Fool. All thy other titles thou hast given away.
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 ing. Give me an egg, nuncle, and I'll give let me have all fool to myself; they'll be snatchthee 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 had'st little wit in thy bald crown, when thou gavest thy golden one away. If I sperk like myself in this, let him be whipp'd that first finds it so.

762

Fools had ne'er less grace in a year; [Singing.
For wise men are grown foppish :
And know not how their wits to wear,
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.
And I for sorrow sung,

That such a king should play bo-peep,

And go the fools among.

Pr'ythee, nuncle, keep a schoolmaster 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 in the middle: Here comes one o' the parings. Enter GONERIL.

Lear. How now, daughter! what makes that frontlet on? Methinks, you are too much of late i' the frown.

Fool. Thou wast a pretty fellow, when thou had'st no need to care for her frowning; now thou art an O 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,

you,

He that keeps nor crust nor crum, Weary of all, shall want some. That's a shealed peascod. [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 In rank and not-to-be-endured riots. Sir, I had thought, by making this well-known unto [fearful, To have found a safe redress, but now grow By what yourself too late have spoke and done, That you protect this course, and put it on By your allowance; which if you should, the fault [sleep; Would not 'scape censure, nor the redresses Which in the tender of a wholesome weal, Might in their working do you that offence, Which else were shame, that then necessity Will call discreet proceeding.

Fool. For you trow, nuncle,

The hedge sparrow fed the cuckoo so long, That it had its head bit off by its young.

Fool. Lear's shadow,

Lear. I would learn that; for by the marks of sovereignty, knowledge, and reason, I should be false persuaded I had daughters.

[ther.
Fool. Which they will make an obedient fa-
Lear. Your name, fair gentlewoman?
Gon. Come, sir;

This admiration is much o' the favour
of other your new pranks. I do beseech you
To understand my purposes aright: [wise:
As you are old and reverend, you should be
Here do you keep a hundred knights and squires;
Men so disorder'd, so debauch'd and bold,
That this our court, infected with their manners,
Shows like a riotous inn: epicurism and lust
Make it more like a tavern or a brothel,
Than a grac'd palace. The shame itself doth
For instant remedy: Be then desir'd [speak
By her, that else will take the thing she begs,
A little to disquantity your train:
And the remainder, that shall still depend
To be such men as may besort your age,
And know themselves and you.

Lear.

Darkness and devils!Saddle my horses; call my train together.Degenerate bastard! I'll not trouble thee: Yet have I left a daughter.

Gon. You strike my people; and your disorder'd rabble

Make servants of their betters.

Enter ALBANY.

Lear. Woe, that too late repents,—O, sir, are you come? [my horses. Is it your will? [To ALB.] Speak, sir.-Prepare Ingratitude! thou marble-hearted fiend, More hideous, when thou show'st thee in a child, Than the sea-monster!

Alb.

'Pray, sir, be patient. Lear. Detested kite! thou liest: [To GON. My train are men of choice and rarest parts, That all particulars of duty know: And in the most exact regard support [fault, The worships of their name.-O most small How ugly didst thou in Cordelia show! Which, like an engine, wrench'd my frame of [love, From the fix'd place: drew from my heart all And added to the gall. O Lear, Lear, Lear! Beat at this gate that let thy folly in,

nature

[Striking his Head. And thy dear judgment out.-Go, go, my people. Alb. My lord, I am guiltless, as I am ignorant Of what hath mov'd you. [hear;

Lear. It may be so, my lord.-Hear, nature, Dear goddess hear! Suspend thy purpose, if Thou didst intend to make this creature fruitful! Into her womb convey sterility!

Dry up in her the organs of increase;

A babe to honour her! If she must teem,
Create her child of spleen; that it may live,
And be a thwart disnatur'd torment to her!
Let it stamp wrinkles in her brow of youth;
With cadent tears fret channels in her cheeks:
Turn all her mother's pains, and benefits,
To laughter and contempt; that she may feel
How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is
To have a thankless child!-Away, away!

[Exil.

Alb. Now, gods, that we adore, whereof comes this?

Gon. Never afflict yourself to know the cause; But let his disposition have that scope That dotage gives it.

Do more than this in sport.-Father! Father! Stop, stop! No help?

Enter GLOSTER, and Servants with Torches.
Glo. Now, Edmund, where's the villain?
Edm. Here stood he in the dark, his sharp
sword out,

Mumbling of wicked charms, conjuring the
To stand his auspicious mistress:- [moon
Glo.
But where is he?
Edm. Look, sir, I bleed.
Glo.
Where is the villain, Edmund?
Edm. Fled this way, sir. When by no means
he could-

Glo. Pursue him, ho!-Go after.-[Exit Serv.]
By no means,-what?
[lordship;
Edm. Persuade me to the murder of your
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,
With his prepared sword, he charges home
My unprovided body, lanc'd mine arm:
But when he saw my best alarum'd spirits,
Bold in the quarrel's right, rous'd to the encoun-
Or whether gasted by the noise I made, [ter,
Full suddenly he fled.

Glo. Let him fly far: Not in this land shall he remain uncaught; And found-Despatch.-The noble duke my

master,

My worthy arch and patron, comes to-night: By his authority I will proclaim it, [thanks, That he, which finds him, shall deserve our Bringing the murderous coward to the stake; He, that conceals him, death.

Edm. When I dissuaded him from his intent, And found him pight to do it, with curst speech; I threaten'd to discover him: He replied, Thou unpossessing bastard! dost thou think If I would stand against thee, would the reposal Of any trust, virtue, or worth, in thee

Make thy words jaith'd! No: what I should deny,

My very character), I'd turn it all
To thy suggestion, plot, and damned practice:
And thou must make a dullard of the world,
If they not thought the profits of my death
Were very pregnant and potential spurs
To make thee seek it.

Glo. Strong and fasten'd villain: Would he deny his letter?-I never got him. [Trumpets within. Hark, the duke's trumpets! I know not why he comes:

All ports I'll bar:-the villain shall not 'scape; The duke must grant me that: besides, his picture

I will send far and near, that all the kingdom May have due note of him; and of my land, Loyal and natural boy, I'll work the means To make thee capable.

Enter CORNWALL, REGAN and Attendants. Corn. How now, my noble friend? since I came hither

news.

(Which I can call but now), I have heard strange [short, Reg. If it be true, all vengeance comes too Which can pursue the offender. How dost, my lord? [crack'd!

Glo. O, madam, my old heart is crack'd, is 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!
Reg. Was he not companion with the riotous
That tend upon my father?
[knights

Glo.

I know not, madam:

It is too bad, too bad.—
Edm.
Yes, madam, he was.
Reg. No marvel then, though he were ill af-
fected;

'Tis they have put him on the old man's death,
To have the waste and spoil of his revenues.
I have this present evening from my sister
Been well inform'd of them; and with such
cautions,

Corn,

That, if they come to sojourn at my house,
I'll not be there.
Nor I, assure thee, Regan.-
Edmund, I hear that you have shown your father
A child-like office.
Edm.

'Twas my duty, sir.
Glo. He did bewray his practice, and receiv'd
This hurt you see, striving to apprehend him,
Corn. Is he pursued?

Glo. Ay, my good lord, he is. Corn. If he be taken, he shall never more Be fear'd of doing harm-make your own purpose, [mund, How in my strength you please.-For you, EdWhose virtue and obedience doth this instant So much commend itself, you shall be ours; Natures of such deep trust we shall much need; You we first seize on. Edm.

Truly, however else.

I shall serve you, sir,

Glo. For him I thank your grace. Corn. You know not why we came to visit you,[night. Reg. Thus out of season; threading dark-ey'd Occasions, noble Gloster, of some poize, Wherein we must have use of your advice:Our father he hath writ, so hath our sister, Of differences, which I best thought it fit [gers To answer from our home; the several messenFrom hence attend despatch. Our good old friend,

SCENE II. Before Gloster's Castle.
Enter KENT and Steward, severally.
Stew, Good dawning to thee, friend: Art of
Kent. Ay.
[the house?
Stew. Where may we set our horses?
Kent. I' the mire.

Stew. 'Pr'ythee, if thou love me, tell me.
Kent, I love thee not.

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 Kent. Fellow, I know thee. [thee not.

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 whorson, glass-gazing, superserviceable, finical rogue; one-trunk-inheriting slave; one that would'st 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.

Stew. Why, what a monstrous fellow art thon, 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 I tripp'd 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 whorson cullionly barber-monger, 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 vanity 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; you neat slave, strike. [Beating him. Stew. Help, ho! murder! murder! Enter EDMUND, CORNWALL, REGAN, GLOSTER,

and Servants.

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? Corn. Keep peace, upon your lives; He dies, that strikes again: What is the matter? Reg. The messengers from our sister and the Corn. What is your difference? speak. [king. Stew. I am scarce in breath, my lord. Kent. No marvel, you have so bestirr'd your valour. You cowardly rascal, nature disclaims in thee; a tailor made thee. [a man? Corn. Thou art a strange fellow: a tailor make 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? Stew. This ancient ruffian, sir, whose life I At suit of his gray beard,- [have spar'd, Kent. Thou whorson zed! thou unnecessary letter! My lord, if you will give me leave, 1]

will tread this unbolted villain into mortar, and daub the wall of a jakes with him.-Spare my gray beard, you wagtail!

Corn. Peace, sirrah!

You beastly knave, know you no reverence? Kent. Yes, sir; but anger has a privilege. Corn. Why art thou angry?

Kent. That such a slave as this should wear a sword, [as these, Who wears no honesty. Such smiling rogues Like rats, oft bite the holy cords atwain Which are too intrinse t'unloose: smooth every passion

That in the natures of their lords rebels:
Bring oil to fire, snow to their colder moods;
Renege, affirm, and turn their halcyon beaks
With every gale and vary of their masters,
As knowing nought, like dogs, but following.
A plague upon your epileptick visage!
Smile you my speeches, as I were a fool?
Goose, if I had you upon Sarum plain,
I'd drive ye cackling home to Camelot.
Corn. What, art thou mad, old fellow?
Glo.
How fell you out

Say that.

Kent. No contraries hold more antipathy Than I and such a knave. [his offence? Corn. Why dost thou call him knave? What's Kent. His countenance likes me not. [or hers. Corn. No more, perchance, does mine, or his, Kent. Sir, 'tis my occupation to be plain; have seen better faces in my time, Than stands on any shoulder that I see Before me at this instant.

I

Corn. This is some fellow, Who, having been prais'd for bluntness, doth

affect

A saucy roughness; and, constrains the garb,
Quite from his nature: He cannot flatter, he!-
An honest mind and plain,--he must speak truth,
An they will take it, so; if not, he's plain.
These kind of knaves I know, which in this
plainness

Harbour more craft, and more corrupter ends,
Than twenty silly ducking observants,
That stretch their duties nicely.

Kent. Sir, in good sooth, in sincere verity,
Under the allowance of your grand aspect,
Whose influence, like the wreath of radiant fire
On flickering Phoebus' front,-
Corn.

What mean'st by this? Kent. To go out of my dialect, which you disCommend so much. I know, sir, I am no flatterer: he that beguiled you, in a plain accent, was a plain knave; which, for my part, I will not be, though I should win your displeasure to entreat me to it.

Corn. What was the offence you gave him?
Stew.
Never any:

It pleas'd the king his master, very late,
To strike at me, upon his misconstruction:
When he, conjunct, and flattering his displea-

sure,

Tripp'd me behind; being down, insulted, rail'd,
And put upon him such a deal of man,
That worthy'd him, got praises of the king
For him attempting who was self subdu'd;
And, in the fleshment of this dread exploit,
Drew on me here.

Kent. None of these rogues, and cowards,
But Ajax is their fool.
Corn.
Fetch forth the stocks ho!
You stubborn ancient knave, you reverend
We'll teach you-
[braggart,
Kent.

Sir, I am too old to learn: