Imatges de pàgina

thus, and thus, yet Nature finds it self scourg'd by the feo quent Effe&ts, Love cools, Friendship falls off, Brothers divide. In Cities, mutinies ; in Countries, discord ; in Palaces, Treason; and the Bond crack'd, 'twixt Son and Father. This Villain of mine comes under the Predi&ion ; there's Son against Father, the King falls from bials 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-hearced Kent banish'd! his offence, honesty, 'Tis strange.

[Exit. Baft. This is the excellent foppery of the World, that when we are fick in Fortune, often the Surfeits of our own Behaviour, we make guilty of our Disasters, the Sun, the Moon, and Stars ; as if we

as if we were Villains on necessity, Fools by Heav'nly Compulfion, Knaves, Thieves, and Treachers by Spherical Predominance, Drunkards, Lyars, and Adulterers by an inforc'd Obedience of Planetary influence; and all that we are evil in, by a divine thrusting ôn. An admirable Evasion of Wtor --master-Man, to lay his Goatish disposition on the charge of a Star; My Father compounded with my Mother under the Dragon's Tail, and my Nativity was under Urfa major, so that it follows, I am rough and lecherous. I should have been that I am, had the Maidenlieft Star in the Firmament twinkled on my Baltardizing.

Enter Edgar. Pat! - he comes like the Catastrophe of the old Comedy ; my Cue is villanous Melancholy, with a sigh like Tom o Bedlam

O these Eclipses do portend these Divisions ! Fa, Sol, La, Me

Edg. How now, Brother Edmund, whạt serious Contemplation are you in?

Baft. I am thinking, Brother, of a Predi&ion I read this other Day, what should follow these Eclipses.

Edg. Do you bufie your self with that?

Balt. I promise you the Effe&s hę writes of, succeed unhappily. When saw you my Father last ? Edg. The Night gone by.



Baft. Spake you with him?
Edg. Ay, two hours together.

Baft. Parted you in good Terms, found you no displeasure in him, by Word, nor Countenance ?

Edg. None at all.

Bast. Bethink your self wherein you have offended him : And at my entreaty forbear his presence, until some little time hath qualified the heat of his displeasure; which at this instant so rageth in him, that with the Mischief of your Per. fon, it would scarcely allay.

Edg. Some Villain hath done me wrong.

Baft. That's my fear; I pray you have a continent forbearance 'till the speed of his Rage goes Nower: 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,


arm’d. Edg. Arm’d, Brother!

Bast. Brother, I advise you to the best, I am no honest Man, if there be any good meaning toward 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

[Exit. Baft. 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 Pra&ices ride easie: I see the Business. Let me, if not by Birth, have Lands by Wit, All with me's meet, that I can fashion fit.


SCENE II. 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 flack of former Services,
You shall do well, the fault of it I'll answer.

Stew. He's coming, Madam, I hear him.

Gon. Put on what weary Negligence you please,
You and your Fellows:I'd have it come to question :
If he distaste it, let him to my Sister,
Whose Mind and mine I know in that are one.
Remember what I have said.

Stow. Well, Madam.

Gon. And let his Knights have colder Looks among you : What grows of it no matter, advise your Fellows so, I'll · write straight to my Sister to hold my course: Prepare for Dinner.

[Exeunt. Enter Kent disguis'd. - Kent. If but as well I other Accents borrow, And can my Speech disuse, my good intent May carry thro' it self to that full Issue For which I raz'd my likeness. Now, banisht Kent, If thou canst serve where thou doft stand condemn'd, So may it come, thy Master whom thou loy'st, Shall find thee full of Labours.

Horns within. Enter Lear, Knights and Attendants. Lear. Let me not stay a jot for Dinner, go get it ready : How now, what art thou ?

Kent. A Man, Sir.

Lear. What doft chou profess? What wouldlt 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 honeft, to converse with him that is wise, and says little, to fear Judgment, to fight when I cannot chufe, and to eat no Fish.

Lear. What are thou?
Kent. A very honeft-hearted Fellow, and as poor as the

Lear. If thou beest as poor for a Subject, as he's for a King, thou art poor enough. What wouldst thou?

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Kent. Service.
Lear. Whom 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 Mafter.

Lear. What's that?
Kent. Authority.
Lear. What Services canst thou do?

Kent. I can keep honest Counsels, ride, run, marr a curious Tale in telling ir, 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 doat 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 yer. Dinner ho, Dinner,----where's my Knave? my Fool? go you and call my Fool hither. You, you, Sirrah, where's my Daughter?

Enter Steward.
Stew. So please you

[Exit. Lear. What says the Fellow there? Call the Clotpole back : Where's my Fool? Ho! ----I think the World's asleep, how now? where's chat Mungrel?

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 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 Affe&tion as you were wont; there's a great abatement of kindness appears as well in the general. Dependents, as in the Duke himself also, and your Daughter.

Lear. Ha! faist thou so ?
Knight. I beseech you pardon me, my Lord, if I be

miftaken; banilh'd

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mistaken; for my Duty cannot be silent, when I think your Highness is wrong’d.

Lear. Thou but remembrest me of my own Conception, I have perceiv'd a most faint negle of late, which I have rather blamed as my own jealous Curiosity, than as a very pretence and purpose of unkindness; I will look further into't ; bụt 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; O you Sir, come you hither, Sir, who am I Sir?

Enter Steward. Stew. My Lady's Father.

Lear. My Lady's Father? my Lord's Knaye, you whorfon Dog, you Slave, you Cur,

Stew. I am none of these, my Lord;
I beseech your pardon.
Lear. Do you bandy Looks with me, you Rascal?

[Striking him. Stew. I'll not be strucken, my

Kent. Nor tript neither, you base Foot-ball player.

[Tripping 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 Lubbers length again, tarry;


away, go to; have you Wisdom, so. Lear. Now my friendly Knave I thank thee, there's earnest of thy Service.

Enter Fool.
Fool. Let me hire him too, here's my Coxcomb.

[Giving his Cap.
Lear. How now my pretty Knave? how dost thou?
Fool. Şirrah, you were best take my Coxcomb.
Kent. Why, my Boy?

Fool. Why? for taking one's part that is out of Favour; nay, and thou canst not smile as the Wind fits, thou'lt catch cold shortly, there take my Coxcomb; why, this Fellow has

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