10 On every trifle. When he returns from hunting If he distaste it, let him to my sister, Kent. Not so young, sir, to love a woman for singing, nor so old to dote on her for any thing; Whose mind and mine, I know, in that are I have years on my back forty-eight. Fool. Sirrah, you were best take my coxcomb. Kent. Why, fool? 111 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 has banished two on's 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. 120 Lear. Take heed, sirrah; the whip. Fool. Truth's a dog 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. Fool. Mark it, nuncle: Have inore than thou showest, And thou shalt have more Than two tens to a score. Kent. This is nothing, fool. 130 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 fool to myself; they 'll be snatching. Nuncle, give me an egg, and I'll give thee two 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 o'er 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 whipped that first finds it so. Fools had ne'er less grace in a year; For wise men are grown foppish, And know not how their wits to wear, Their manners are so apish. 183 Fool. I marvel what kin thou and thy daughters are: they'll have me whipped for speaking true, thou 'lt have me whipped for lying; and sometimes I am whipped 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' 140 the middle: here comes one o' the parings. 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. To KENT. Prithee, tell him, so much the rent of his land comes to: he will not believe a fool. 150 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, Do thou for him stand: I would you would make use of your good wis- Whereof I know you are fraught; and put away 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: Does Lear walk thus? speak thus? Where are Either his notion weakens, his discernings Fool. Lear's shadow. Enter ALBANY. 833 Lear. Woe, that too late repents; O! sir, are Alb. 290 How ugly didst thou in Cordelia show! nature From the fix'd place, drew from my heart all And added to the gall. O Lear, Lear, Lear! Striking his head. Lear. 300 It may be so, my lord. 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' the savour 260 Of other your new pranks. I do beseech you Men so disorder'd, so debosh'd, and bold, For instant remedy; be then desir'd Lear, 270 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 dis- She'll flay thy wolvish visage. Thou shalt find order'd rabble Make servants of their betters. 280 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, and take the fool with thee. A fox, when one has caught her, Should sure to the slaughter, If my cap would buy a halter; So the fool follows after. Gon. This man hath had good counsel. hundred knights! 341 Exit. A 'Tis politic and safe to let him keep Each buzz, each fancy, each complaint, dislike, Re-enter OSWALD. How now, Oswald ! What! have you writ that letter to my sister? Osw. Ay, madam. 360 Gon. Take you some company, and away to horse: Inform her full of my particular fear; Exit OSWALD. 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. 370 Gon. Nay, then ACT II. SCENE I.-A Court within the Castle of the Earl of GLOUCESTER. Enter EDMUND 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 whispered 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 Dukes of Cornwall and Albany? 50 But that I told him, the revenging gods Or whether gasted by the noise I made, Glou. Let him fly far: Not in this land shall he remain uncaught; master, My worthy arch and patron, comes to-night: 60 Glou. 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? Glou. O lady, lady, shame would have it hid. Reg. Was he not companion with the riotous knights That tend upon my father? Glou. I know not, madam; 'tis too bad, too bad. Edm. Yes, madam, he was of that consort. Reg. No marvel then though he were ill affected; 'Tis they have put him on the old man's death, That if they come to sojourn at my house, Corn. 102 Nor I, assure thee, Regan. Edmund, I hear that you have shown your father A child-like office. |