As you are old and
reverend, you should be wise.
Here do you keep a hundred knights and squires;
Men so disorder'd, so debosh'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 speak
For
instantremedy. Be then desir'd
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,
Which 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?
Is it your will? Speak, sir!-Prepare my horses.
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. [to Goneril] Detested kite, thou liest!
My train are men of choice and rarest parts,
That all particulars of duty know
And in the most exact regard support
The worships of their name.-O most small fault,
How ugly didst thou in Cordelia show!
Which, like an engine, wrench'd my frame of nature
From the fix'd place; drew from my heart all love
And added to the gall. O Lear, Lear, Lear!
Beat at this gate that let thy folly in [Strikes 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.
Lear. It may be so, my lord.
Hear, Nature, hear! 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;
And from her derogate body never spring
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! Exit.
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.
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. [To Goneril] Life and death! I am asham'd
That thou hast power to shake my
manhood thus;
That these hot tears, which break from me perforce,
Should make thee worth them. Blasts and fogs upon thee!
Th' untented woundings of a father's curse
Pierce every sense about thee!-Old fond eyes,
Beweep this cause again, I'll pluck ye out,
And cast you, with the waters that you lose,
To
temper clay. Yea, is it come to this?
Let it be so. Yet have I left a daughter,
Who I am sure is kind and comfortable.
When she shall hear this of thee, with her nails
She'll flay thy wolvish
visage. Thou shalt find
That I'll resume the shape which thou dost think
I have cast off for ever; thou shalt, I
warrant thee.
Exeunt [Lear, Kent, and Attendants].
Gon. Do you mark that, my lord?
Alb. I cannot be so
partial, Goneril,
To the great love I bear you -
Gon. Pray you, content.-What, Oswald, ho!
[To the Fool] You, sir, more knave than fool, after your master!
Fool. Nuncle Lear, nuncle Lear, tarry! Take the fool with thee.
A fox when one has caught her,
And such a daughter,
Should sure to the s
laughter,
If my cap would buy a halter.
So the fool follows after. Exit.
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,
Each buzz, each fancy, each
complaint, dislike,
He may enguard his dotage with their pow'rs
And hold our lives in mercy.-Oswald, I say!
Alb. Well, you may fear too far.
Gon. Safer than trust too far.
Let me still take away the harms I fear,
Not fear still to be taken. I know his heart.
What he hath utter'd I have writ my sister.
If she
sustain him and his hundred knights,
When I have show'd th' unfitness-
Enter [Oswald the] Steward.
How now, Oswald?
What, have you writ that letter to my sister?
Osw. Yes, madam.
Gon. Take you some company, and away to horse!
Inform her full of my particular fear,
And
thereto add such reasons of your own
As may
compact it more. Get you gone,
And
hasten your return. [Exit Oswald.] No, no, my lord!
This milky
gentleness and course of yours,
Though I
condemn it not, yet, under pardon,
You are much more at task for want of wisdom
Than prais'd for
harmful mildness.
Alb. How far your eyes may
pierce I cannot tell.
Striving to better, oft we mar what's well.
Gon. Nay then-
Alb. Well, well; th' event. Exeunt.
Scene V.
Court before the Duke of Albany's Palace.
Enter Lear, Kent, and Fool.
Lear. Go you before to Gloucester with these letters. Acquaint my
daughter no further with anything you know than comes from her
demand out of the letter. If your
diligence be not
speedy, I
shall be there afore you.
Kent. I will not sleep, my lord, till I have delivered your letter.
Exit.
Fool. If a man's brains were in's heels, were't not in danger of
kibes?
Lear. Ay, boy.
Fool. Then I prithee be merry. Thy wit shall ne'er go slip-shod.
Lear. Ha, ha, ha!
Fool. Shalt see thy other daughter will use thee kindly; for though
she's as like this as a crab's like an apple, yet I can tell
what I can tell.
Lear. What canst tell, boy?
Fool. She'll taste as like this as a crab does to a crab. Thou
canst tell why one's nose stands i' th' middle son's face?
Lear. No.
Fool. Why, to keep one's eyes of either side's nose, that what a
man cannot smell out, 'a may spy into.
Lear. I did her wrong.
Fool. Canst tell how an
oyster makes his shell?
Lear. No.
Fool. Nor I neither; but I can tell why a snail has a house.
Lear. Why?
Fool. Why, to put's head in; not to give it away to his daughters,
and leave his horns without a case.
Lear. I will forget my nature. So kind a father!-Be my horses
ready?
Fool. Thy asses are gone about 'em. The reason why the seven stars
are no moe than seven is a pretty reason.
Lear. Because they are not eight?
Fool. Yes indeed. Thou wouldst make a good fool.
Lear. To tak't again perforce! Monster ingratitude!
Fool. If thou wert my fool, nuncle, I'ld have thee
beaten for being
old before thy time.
Lear. How's that?
Fool. Thou shouldst not have been old till 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 a Gentleman.]
How now? Are the horses ready?
Gent. Ready, my lord.
Lear. Come, boy.
Fool. She that's a maid now, and laughs at my departure,
Shall not be a maid long, unless things be cut shorter
Exeunt.
ACT II. Scene I.
A court within the Castle of the Earl of Gloucester.
Enter [Edmund the] Bastard and Curan, meeting.
Edm. Save thee, Curan.
Cur. And you, sir. I have been with your father, and given him
notice that the Duke of Cornwall and Regan his Duchess will be
here with him this night.
Edm. How comes that?
Cur. Nay, I know not. You have heard of the news
abroad -I mean the
whisper'd ones, for they are yet but ear-kissing arguments?
Edm. Not I. Pray you, what are they?
Cur. Have you heard of no likely wars toward 'twixt the two Dukes
of Cornwall and Albany?
Edm. Not a word.
Cur. You may do, then, in time. Fare you well, sir. Exit.
Edm. The Duke be here to-night? The better! best!
This weaves itself perforce into my business.
My father hath set guard to take my brother;
And I have one thing, of a queasy question,
Which I must act. Briefness and fortune, work!
Brother, a word! Descend! Brother, I say!
Enter Edgar.
My father watches. O sir, fly this place!
Intelligence is given where you are hid.
You have now the good
advantage of the night.
Have you not
spoken 'gainst the Duke of Cornwall?
He's coming
hither; now, i' th' night, i' th' haste,
And Regan with him. -Have you nothing said
Upon his party 'gainst the Duke of Albany
Advise yourself.
Edg. I am sure on't, not a word.