Edm. Nor is not, sure. ~ Glo. To his father, that so tenderly and entirely loves him. Heaven and earth! - Edmund, seek him out; wind me into him, I pray you; frame the business after your own wisdom: I would unstate myself, to be in a due resolution. Edm. I will seek him, sir, presently; convey the business as I shall find means, and acquaint you withal. Glo. These late eclipses in the sun and moon portend no good to us: Though the wisdom of nature can reason it thus and thus, yet nature finds itself scourged by the sequent effects: love cools, friendship falls off, brothers divide: in cities, mutinies; in countries, discord; in palaces, treason; and the bond cracked between son and father. This villain f mine comes under the prediction; there's son against father: the king falls from bias of nature; there's father against child. We have seen the best of our time: Machinations, hollowness, treachery, and all ruinous disorders, follow us disquietly to our graves! - Find out this villain, Edmund; it shall lose thee nothing; do it carefully:- And the noble and true-hearted Kent banished! his offence, honesty! - Strange! strange! [Exit. Edm. This is the excellent foppery of the world! that, when we are sick in fortune, (often the surfeit of our own behaviour,) we make guilty of our disasters, the sun, the moon, and the stars: as if we were villains by necessity; fools, by heavenly compulsion; knaves, thieves, and treachers, by spherical predominance; drunkards, liars, and adulterers, by an enforced obedience of planetary influence; and all that we are evil in, by a divine thrusting on: An admirable evasion of whore-master man, to lay his goatish disposition to the charge of a star! My father compounded with my mother under the dragon's tail:- and my nativity was under ursa major; so that it follows, I am rough and lecherous. -Tut, I should have been that I am, had the maidenliest star in the firmament twinkled on my bastardizing. Edgar Enter EDGAR. and pat he comes, like the catastrophe of the old comedy: My cue is villainous melancholy, with a sigh like Tom o'Bedlam. O, these eclipses do portend these divisions! fa, şol, la, mi. Edg. How now, brother Edmund? What serious contemplation are you in? Edm. I am thinking, brother, of a prediction I read this other day, what should follow these eclipses. Edg. Do you busy yourself with that? Edm. I promise you, the effects he writes of, succeed unhappily; 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, banishment 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? Edg. Why, the night gone by. Edm. Parted you in good terms? Found you no displeasure in him, by word, or 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. 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, as I say, retire with me to my lodging, from whence I will fitly bring you to hear my lord speak: Pray you, go; there's my key:- If you do stir abroad, go armed. Edg. Armed, brother? Edm. Brother, I advise you to the best; go armed; I am no honest man, if there be any good meaning towards you: I have told you what I have seen and heard, but faintly; nothing like the image and horror of it: Pray you, away. [Exit EDGAR. Edg. Shall I hear from you anon? Edm. I do serve you in this business. — A credulous father, and a brother noble, Whose nature is so far from doing harms, That he suspects none; on whose foolish honesty 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. [Exit. SCENE III. A Room in the Duke of Albany's Palace. Enter GONERIL and Steward. Gon. Did my father strike my gentleman for chiding of his fool? Stew. Ay, madam. Gon. By day and night! he wrongs me; every hour He flashes into one gross crime or other, Gon. Put on what weary negligence you please, You and your fellows; I'd have it come to question : If he dislike it, let him to my sister, Lear. Dost thou know me, fellow? 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 is wrong'd. : Lear. Thou but remember'st me of mine own conception; I have perceived a most faint neglect of late; which I have rather blamed as mine own jealous curiosity, 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. Go you, call hither my fool. - Re-enter Steward. O, you sir, you sir, come you hither: Who am I, sir? Stew. My lady's father. 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 kerts, 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 Kent. No, sir; but you have that in your coun- lubber's length again, tarry: but away: go to; tenance, which I would fain call master. 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 qualify'd 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 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: Have you wisdom? so. [Pushes the Steward out. Lear. Now, my friendly knave, I thank thee; there's earnest of thy service. [Giving KEST masy, Enter Fool. Fool. Let me hire him too;-Here's my corcomb [Giving KENT his cap. Lear. How now, my pretty knave? how dost that? Fool. Sirrab, you were best take my coxcomh. 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 con comb: 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 Then they for sudden joy did weep, [Singing.. must be whipp'd out, when Lady, the brach, may Pr'ythee, nuncle, keep a school-master that can stand by the fire and stink. Lear. A pestilent gall to me! Fool. Mark it, nuncle: Have more than thou showest, 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 out of nothing, Fool. Pr'ythee, tell him, so much the rent of his land comes to; he will not believe a fool. Lear. A bitter fool! [TO KENT. 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 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 other found out there. 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 had'st 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 hat first finds it so. 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. [Pointing to LEAB, Gon. Not only, sir, this your all-licens'd fool, But other of your insolent retinue Do hourly carp and quarrel; breaking forth Sir, I had thought, by making this well known unto you, Fool. For you trow, nuncle, The hedge-sparrow fed the cuckoo so long, Gon. Come, sir, I would you would make use of that good wisdom whereof I know you are fraught; 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? Where are his eyes? Either his notion weakens, or his discernings are lethargied. — Sleeping or waking? Ha! sure 'tis not so. - - Who is it that can Fools had ne'er less grace in a year; [Singing. tell me who I am?- Lear's shadow? I would 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 adest thy daughters thy mother: for when thou avest them the rod, and put'st down thine own reeches, 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. This admiration is much o'the favour Pray, sir, be patient. Lear. Detested kite! thou liest: [To GONERIL. 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, Which, like an engine, wrench'd my frame of 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. Lear. It may be so, my lord, Hear, nature, hear; Dear goddess, hear! Suspend thy purpose, if Gon. Never afflict yourself to know the cause; Re-enter LEAR. Lear. What, fifty of my followers, at a clap! Within a fortnight? Alb. That thou hast power to shake my manhood thus: Should make thee worth them. Blasts and fogs upon thee! The untented woundings of a father's curse Gon. Do you mark that, my lord? Gon. Pray you content. What, Oswald, ho! You, sir, more knave than fool, after your master. [To the Fool. Fool. Nuncle Lear, nuncle Lear, tarry, and take the fool with thee. SCENE V.-Court before the same. Enter LEAR, KENT, and Fool. Lear. Go you before to Gloster with these letters: acquaint my daughter no further with any thing you know, than comes from her demand out of the letter: If your diligence be not speedy, I shall be there before you. Kent. I will not sleep, my lord, till I have delivered your letter. [Exit. Fool. If a man's brains were in his heels, were't not in danger of kibes? Lear. Ay, boy. Fool. Then, I pr'ythee, be merry; thy wit shall not go slip-shod. Lear. Ha, ha, ha! Fool. If thou wert my fool, nuncle, I'd have thee beaten for being old before thy time. ACT II. SCENE I.— A Court within the Castle of the Earl Have you not spoken 'gainst the duke of Cornwall? He's coming hither; now, i' the night, i' the haste, Edg. I am sure on't, not a word. Yield: come before my father ;-Light, ho, here!— Fly, brother ;-Torches! torches!-So, farewell.[Exit EDGAR. Some blood drawn on me would beget opinion [Wounds his arm. Of my more fierce endeavour: I have seen drunkards 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 |
