On every Trifle. When he returns from hunting, You fhall do well, the fault of it I'll answer. Gon. Put on what weary Negligence you please, Whofe Mind and mine I know in that are one. Stew. Well, Madam. Gon. And let his Knights have colder Looks among you : What grows of it no matter, advise your Fellows fo, I'll write ftraight to my Sifter to hold my course: Prepare for Dinner. [Exeunt. Enter Kent difguis'd. Kent. If but as well I other Accents borrow, For which I raz'd my likeness. Now, banifht Kent, 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 thou profefs? What wouldst thou with us? Kent. I do profefs to be no less than I feem; to serve him truly that will put me in truft, to love him that is honeft, to converfe with him that is wife, and fays little, to fear Judgment, to fight when I cannot chufe, and to eat no Fish. Lear. What art thou? Kent. A very honeft-hearted Fellow, and as poor as the King. Lear. If thou beeft as poor for a Subject, as he's for a King, thou art poor enough. What wouldst thou? Kent. Kent. Service. Lear. Whom wouldst thou ferve? Kent. You. Lear. Doft 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 canft thou do? Kent. I can keep honeft Counfels, ride, run, marr a curious Tale in telling it, and deliver a plain Meffage 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 fo young, Sir, to love a Woman for finging, nor fo old to doat on her for any thing. I have Years on my Back forty eight. Lear. Follow me, thou shalt ferve 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. You, you, Sirrah, where's my Daughter ? Enter Steward. Stew. So please you[Exit. Lear. What fays the Fellow there? Call the Clotpole back: Where's my Fool? Ho!--I think the World's afleep, how now? where's that Mungrel? Knight. He fays, 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 rounde ft 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 Affection as you were wont; there's a great abatement of kindness appears as well in the general Dependents, as in the Duke himself alfo, and your Daughter. Lear. Ha! faift thou fo? Knight. I befeech you pardon me, my Lord, if I be mistaken; mistaken; for my Duty cannot be filent, when I think your Highness is wrong'd. Lear. Thou but remembreft me of my own Conception, I have perceiv'd a moft faint neglect of late, which I have rather blamed as my own jealous Curiofity, than as a very pretence and purpose of unkindnefs; I will look further into't; but where's my Fool? I have not feen 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 fpeak 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 thefe, my Lord; I beseech your pardon. Lear. Do you bandy Looks with me, you Rafcal? Stew. I'll not be ftrucken, my Lord. [Striking him. Kent. Nor tript neither, you base Foot-ball player. Lear. I thank thee, Fellow. Thou ferv'ft me, and I'll love thee. [Tripping up his Heels. Kent. Come, Sir, arise, away, I'll teach you Differences: Away, away, if you will meafure your Lubbers length again, tarry; but away, go to; haveyou Wisdom, fo. Lear. Now my friendly Knave I thank thee, there's ear neft 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 doft thou? Fool. Sirrah, you were beft take my Coxcomb. Kent. Why, my Boy? Fool. Why? for taking one's part that is out of Favour; nay, and thou canst not fmile as the Wind fits, thou❜lt catch cold shortly, there take my Coxcomb; why, this Fellow has banish'd banish'd two on's Daughter, and did the third a Bleffing against his Will; if thou follow him, thou inuft needs wear my Coxcomb. How now Nuncle? would I had two Coxcombs, and two Daughters. Lear. Why, my Boy? Fool. If I give them all my living, I'll keep my Coxcomb my felf; there's mine, beg another of thy Daughters. Lear. Take heed, Sirrah, the whip. Fool. Truth's a Dog muft to kennel, he muft be whip'd out, when the Lady Brach may ftand by th' Fire and stink. Lear. A peftilent gall to me. Fool. Sirrah, I'll teach thee a Speech. Lear. Do. Fool. Mark it, Nuncle; Have more than thou fhoweft, And thou fhalt have more, Kent. This is nothing, Fool. [To Kent. Fool. Then it is like the Breath of an unfee'd Lawyer, you give me nothing for't, can you make no ufe of nothing, Nuncle ? Lear. Why no, Boy, Nothing can be made out of nothing. Fool. Prithee tell him, fo much the Rent of his Land comes to, he will not believe a Fool. Lear. A bitter Fool. [To Kent. Fool. Doft thou know the difference, my Boy, between a bitter Fool and a fweet one? Lear. No Lad; teach me. Fool. Nuncle, give me an Egg, and I'll give thee two Crowns. Lear. What two Crowns fhall they be? Fool. Why, after I have cut the Egg i'th' middle, and eat up the Meat, the two Crowns of the Egg: When thou doveft cloveft thy Crown i'th' middle, and gav'ft away both parts, thou bor'ft thine Afs on thy Back o'er the Dirt; thou hadft little Wit in thy bald Crown, when thou gav'ft thy golden one away: If I fpeak like my felf in this, let him be whipt that first finds it fo. Fools had ne'er lefs Grace in a Year, [Singing. Lear. When were you wont to be fo full of Songs, Sirrah? Fool. have used it Nuncle, e'er fince thou mad❜ft thy Daughters thy Mothers; for when thou gav'ft them the Rod, and put'ft down thine own Breeches, then they For fudden Joy did weep, And I for Sorrow fung, That fuch a King should play bo peep. And go the Fools among. [Singing. Prithee Nuncle keep a School-Mafter that can teach thy Fool to lie; I would fain learn to lie. Lear. And you lie, Sirrah, we'll have you whipt. Fool. I marvel what kin thou and thy Daughters are: they'll have me whipt for fpeaking true, thou'lt have me whipt for Lying, and fometimes I am whipt, for holding my Peace. I had rather be any kind of thing than a Fool, and yet I would not be thee, Nuncle; thou haft pared thy Wit o'both fides, and left nothing i'th' middle; here comes one o' the parings. Enter Goneril. Lear. How now, Daughter? what makes that Frontlet on? You are too much of late i'th' frown. Fool. Thou waft a pretty Fellow when thou hadft no need to care for her frowning; now thou art an O without a Figure; I am better than thou art now, I am a Fool, thou art nothing. Yes forfooth I will hold my Tongue, so your Face tho' you fay nothing. bids me, Mum, Mum, he that keeps nor Cruft, nor Crum, [Singing. That's a fheal'd Pefcod. Gon. Not only, Sir, this, your all-licenc'd Fool, But |