Lear. What's that?
Kent. Authority.
Lear. What services canst thou do?
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, nor so old to
dote on her for anything. 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 the] Steward.
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.
[Enter Knight]
How now? Where's that mongrel?
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 answered 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! say'st thou so?
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 rememb'rest me of mine own
conception. I have
perceived a most faint
neglect of late, which I have rather
blamed as mine own
jealouscuriosity than as a very pretence
and purpose of unkindness. I will look further into't.But
where's my fool? I have not seen him this two days.
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. [Exit Knight.] Go you, call
hither my fool.
[Exit an Attendant.]
Enter [Oswald the] Steward.
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!
Osw. I am none of these, my lord; I
beseech your
pardon.
Lear. Do you bandy looks with me, you rascal?
[Strikes him.]
Osw. I'll not be strucken, my lord.
Kent. Nor tripp'd neither, you base football player?
[Trips up his heels.
Lear. I thank thee, fellow. Thou serv'st 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 him out.]
Lear. Now, my friendly knave, I thank thee. There's
earnest of thy
service. [Gives money.]
Enter Fool.
Fool. Let me hire him too. Here's my coxcomb.
[Offers Kent his cap.]
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'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 hath banish'd two son's
daughters, and did the third a
blessing against his will. If
thou follow him, thou must needs wear my cox-comb.-How now,
nuncle? Would I had two coxcombs and two daughters!
Lear. Why, my boy?
Fool. If I gave them all my living, lid keep my coxcombs myself.
There's mine! beg another of thy daughters.
Lear. Take heed, sirrah-the whip.
Fool. Truth's a dog must to
kennel; he must be whipp'd out, when
Lady the brach may stand by th' 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.
Kent. This is nothing, fool.
Fool. Then 'tis like the
breath of an unfeed lawyer-you gave me
nothing for't. Can you make no use of nothing, nuncle?
Lear. Why, no, boy. Nothing can be made out of nothing.
Fool. [to Kent] Prithee tell him, so much the rent of his land
comes to. He will not believe a fool.
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
counselled thee
To give away thy land,
Come place him here by me-
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 let me have all the 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' th' middle and eat up the
meat, the two crowns of the egg. When thou clovest thy crown i'
th' middle and gav'st away both parts, thou bor'st thine ass on
thy back o'er the dirt. Thou hadst little wit in thy bald crown
when thou gav'st thy golden one away. If I speak like myself in
this, let him be whipp'd that first finds it so.
[Sings] Fools had Deer less grace in a year,
For wise men are grown foppish;
They 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 us'd it, nuncle, ever since thou mad'st thy daughters
thy mother; for when thou gav'st them the rod, and put'st down
thine own breeches,
[Sings] Then they for sudden joy did weep,
And I for sorrow sung,
That such a king should play bo-peep
And go the fools among.
Prithee, nuncle, keep a
schoolmaster that can teach thy fool to
lie. I would fain learn to lie.
Lear. An 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 o' thing than a fool! And yet I would not be thee,
nuncle. Thou hast pared thy wit o' both sides and left nothing
i' th' middle. Here comes one o' the parings.
Enter Goneril.
Lear. How now, daughter? What makes that frontlet on? Methinks you
are too much o' late i' th' frown.
Fool. Thou wast a pretty fellow when thou hadst 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.
[To Goneril] Yes, forsooth, I will hold my tongue. So your face
bids me, though you say nothing. Mum, mum!
He that keeps nor crust nor crum,
Weary of all, shall want some.-
[Points at Lear] That's a sheal'd peascod.
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 you,
To have found a safe
redress, but now grow fearful,
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
Would not scape
censure, nor the
redresses sleep,
Which, in the tender of a
wholesome weal,
Might in their
working do you that offence
Which else were shame, that then necessity
Must call
discreet proceeding.
Fool. For you know, nuncle,
The hedge-sparrow fed the
cuckoo so long
That it had it head bit off by it young.
So out went the candle, and we were left darkling.
Lear. Are you our daughter?
Gon. Come, sir,
I would you would make use of that good
wisdomWhereof I know you are
fraught, and put away
These dispositions that 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. Doth any here know me? This is not Lear.
Doth Lear walk thus? speak thus? Where are his eyes?
Either his notion weakens, his discernings
Are lethargied-Ha! waking? 'Tis not so!
Who is it that can tell me who I am?
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.
Fool. Which they will make an
obedient father.
Lear. Your name, fair gentlewoman?
Gon. This
admiration, sir, is much o' th' savour
Of other your new pranks. I do
beseech you
To understand my purposes aright.