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o' Bedlam. O, these eclipses do portend these divisions! Fa, sol, 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. Spake you with him?

Edg. Ay, two hours together.

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. 1 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.

Edg. Shall I hear from you anon?
Edm. I do serve you in this business.-

[Exit EDGAR.

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,

That sets us all at odds. I'll not endure it;

His knights grow riotous, and himself upbraids us
On every trifle.-When he returns from hunting,
I will not speak with him: say, I am sick.-
If you come slack of former services,

You shall do well; the fault of it I'll answer.
Stew. He's coming, madam; I hear him.

[Horns within.
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,

Whose mind and mine, I know, in that are one,
[Not to be overruled. Idle old man,

That still would manage those authorities,
That he hath given away!-Now, by my life,
Old fools are babes again; and must be used
With checks, as flatteries,-when they are seen abused.]
Remember what I have said.

Stew.

Very well, madam.

Gon. And let his knights have colder looks among you; What grows of it, no matter; advise your fellows so. [I would breed from hence occasions, and I shall, That I may speak.]-I'll write straight to my sister, To hold my very course.-Prepare for dinner. [Exeunt.

SCENE IV. A Hall in the same.

Enter KENT, disguised.

Kent. If but as well I other accents borrow, That can my speech diffuse, my good intent May carry through itself to that full issue

For which I razed my likeness.-Now, banished Kent, If thou canst serve where thou dost stand condemned,

(So may it come!) thy master, whom thou lov'st, Shall find thee full of labors.

Horns within. Enter LEAR, Knights, and Attendants. Lear. Let me not stay a jot for dinner; go, get it ready. [Exit an Attendant.] How now, what art thou?

Kent. A man, sir.

Lear. What dost thou profess? What wouldst thou with us?

Kent. I do profess to be no less than I seem; to serve him truly, that will put me in trust; to love him that is honest; to converse with him that is wise, and says little; to fear judgment; to fight, when I cannot choose; and to eat no fish.

Lear. What art thou?

Kent. A very honest-hearted fellow, and as poor as the king.

Lear. If thou be as poor for a subject, as he is for a king, thou art poor enough. What wouldst thou?

Kent. Service.

Lear. Who wouldst thou serve?

Kent. You.

Lear. Dost thou know me, fellow?

Kent. No, sir; but you have that in your countenance, 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 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 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.

Enter Steward.

You, you, sirrah, where's my daughter?

Stew. So please you

[Exit.

Lear. What says the fellow there? Call the clot-poll

back. Where's my fool, ho?-I think the world's asleep. -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 called 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 entertained 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 wronged.

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, and 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 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. 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 favor; 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 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.

[blocks in formation]

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 out of nothing. Fool. 'Pr'ythee, tell him so much the rent of his land comes to; he will not believe a fool. [To KENT.

Lear. A bitter fool!

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