Edm. I will seek him, sir, presently; convey' in him, that with the mischief of your person it the business as I shall find means, and acquaint you would scarcely allay. 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 of 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 quietly to our graves!-Find out this villain, Edmund, it shall Tose thee nothing; do it carefully :-And the noble and true-hearted Kent banished! his offence, honesty!-Strange! strange!

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?

[Exit Edgar.

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. Edg. Shall I hear from you anon? Edm. I do serve you in this business. [Exit. A credulous father, and a brother noble, Edm. This is the excellent foppery of the world! Whose nature is so far from doing harms, that, when we are sick in fortune (often the surfeit That he suspects none; on whose foolish honesty of our behaviour,) we make guilty of our disasters, My practices ride easy!-I see the business.the sun, the moon, and the stars: as if we were vil- Let me, if not by birth, have lands by wit: lains by necessity; fools, by heavenly compulsion; knaves, thieves, and treachers,3 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 whoremaster 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 villanous melancholy, with a sigh like Tom o'Bedlam.-O, these eclipses do portend these divisions! fa, sol, la, mi.5

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 astro

nomica!?

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

(1) Manage. (2) Following. (3) Traitors. (4) Great Bear, the constellation so named. (5) These sounds are unnatural and offensive in music.

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 triffe:-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 over-rul'd. 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 us'd
With checks, as flatteries,-when they are seen
abus'd.
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.

Lear. What dost thou profess? What wouldest 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 wouldest thou?

Kent. Service.

Lear. Who wouldst thou serve?

Kent. You.

Lear. Dost thou know me, fellow?

Act I.

But where's my fool? I have not seen him these 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.

sir?
O, you sir, you sir, come you hither: Who am 1,

Stew. My lady's father.

whoreson dog! you slave! you cur!
Lear. My lady's father! my lord's knave; you

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

Kent. No, sir; but you have that in your coun- lubber's length again, tarry: but away: go to. tenance, which I would fain cali 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:

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! savest 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 rememberest me of mine own conception; I have perceived a most faint neglect of late; which I have rather blamed as mine own jealous curiosity,2 than as a very pretence and purpose of unkindness; I will look further into't.

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.
thou?
Lear. How now, my pretty knave? how dost

Fool. Sirrah, you were best take my coxcomb.
Kent. Why, fool?

favour: Nay, an thou canst not smile as the wind
Fool. Why? For taking one's part that is out of
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?

coxcombs myself: There's mine; beg another of
Fool. If I gave them all my living, I'd keep my
thy daughters.

Lear. Take heed, sirrah; the whip.

Fool. Truth's a dog that must to kennel; he stand by the fire, and stink. must be whipped out, when Lady, the brach,' may

Lear. A pestilent gall to me!

Fool. Sirrah, I'll teach thee a speech.
Lear. Do.

Fool. Mark it, nuncle:

6

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!

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 one in motley here,

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.-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 hadst 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 that first finds it so.

Fools had ne'er less grace1 in a year;
For wise men are grown foppish;
And know not how their wits to wear,
Their manners are so apish.

[Singing.

Lear. When were you wont to be so full of songs,

sirrah ?

Fool. I have used it, nuncle, ever since thou madest thy daughters thy mother: for when thou gavest them the rod, and put'st down thine own breeches,

Then they for sudden joy did weep,
And I for sorrow sung,
That such a king should play bo-peep,
And go the fools among.

[Singing.

no need to care for her frowning; now thou art an
O3 without a figure: I am better than thou art now;
I am a fool, thou art nothing.-Yes, forsooth, I will
hold my tongue; so your face [To Gon.] bids me,
though you say nothing. Mum, mum,

He that keeps nor crust nor crumb,
That's a sheal'd peascod.4
Weary of all, shall want some.-

[Pointing to Lear. Gon. Not only, sir, this your all-licens'd fool, But other of your insolent retinue

Do hourly carp and quarrel; breaking forth
In rank and not-to-be-endured riots. Sir,

I had thought, by making this well known unto you,
To have found a safe redress; but now grow fearful,
By what yourself too late have spoke and done,
That you protect this course, and put it on
By your allowance; which if you should, the fault
Would not 'scape censure, nor the redresses sleep:
Might in their working do you that offence,
Which, in the tender of a wholesome weal,
Which else were shame, that then necessity
Will call discreet proceeding.
Fool. For you trow, nuncle,

The hedge-sparrow fed the cuckoo so long,
That it had its head bit off by his young.
So out went the candle, and we were left darkling.
Lear. Are you our daughter?

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 tell me who I am?-Lear's shadow? I would learn that reason, I should be false persuaded I had daughfor by the marks of sovereignty, knowledge, and

ters.

This admiration is much o'the favours
Of other your new pranks. I do beseech you
To understand my purposes aright:

As you are old and reverend, you should be wise: Here do you keep a hundred knights and squires; Pr'ythee, nuncle, keep a school-master that can That this our court, infected with their manners, Men so disorder'd, so debauch'd, and bold,' teach thy fool to lie; I would fain learn to lie. Lear. If you lie, sirrah, we'll have you whipp'd. Make it more like a tavern or a brothel, Shows like a riotous inn: epicurism and lust Fool. I marvel, what kin thou and thy daughters Than a grac'd palace. The shame itself doth speak are: they'll have me whipp'd for speaking true, For instant remedy: Be then desired thou'lt have me whipp'd for lying; and, sometimes, By her, that else will take the thing she begs, I am whipp'd for holding my peace. I had rather A little to disquantity your train;

be any kind of thing, than a fool; and yet I would And the remainder, that shall still depend,”
not be thee, nuncle; thou hast pared thy wit o'both To be such men as may besort your age,
sides, and left nothing i'the middle: Here comes And know themselves and you.
one of the parings.

Enter Goneril.

Lear.

Darkness and devils!-
Saddle my horses; call my train together.-
Yet have I left a daughter.
Degenerate bastard! I'll not trouble thee;

Gon. You strike my people; and your disorder'd
rabble,

Make servants of their betters.

(4) A mere husk which contains nothing.
(5) Approbation. (6) Well governed state.
(7) Stored.

(8) Complexion.

(9) Continue in service..