King Lear (Folio 1, 1623)
Not Peer Reviewed
¶
Scena Quarta.
530
Enter Kent.
¶Kent. If but as will I other accents borrow,
¶Shall find thee full of labours.
¶
Hornes within. Enter Lear and Attendants.
540dy: how now, what art thou?
¶Kent. A man Sir.
¶with vs?
545him truely that will put me in trust, to loue him that is
¶feare iudgement, to fight when I cannot choose, and to
¶eate no fish.
¶Lear. What art thou?
¶the King.
¶King, thou art poore enough. What wouldst thou?
¶Kent. Seruice.
¶Kent. You.
¶Kent. No Sir, but you haue that in your countenance,
¶which I would faine call Master.
560Lear. What's that?
¶Kent. Authority.
565bluntly: that which ordinary men are fit for, I am qual-
¶lified in, and the best of me, is Dilligence.
¶Lear. How old art thou?
¶nor so old to dote on her for any thing. I haue yeares on
570my backe forty eight.
¶worse after dinner, I will not part from thee yet. Dinner
¶ho, dinner, where's my knaue? my Foole? Go you and call
¶my Foole hither. You you Sirrah, where's my Daughter?
575
Enter Steward.
¶pole backe: wher's my Foole? Ho, I thinke the world's
¶asleepe, how now? Where's that Mungrell?
¶call'd him?
¶would not.
585Lear. He would not?
¶Knight. My Lord, I know not what the matter is,
¶with that Ceremonious affection as you were wont,
¶your Daughter.
¶ception, I haue perceiued a most faint neglect of late,
¶which I haue rather blamed as mine owne iealous curio-
600I will looke further intoo't: but where's my Foole? I
¶haue not seene him this two daies.
¶Knight. Since my young Ladies going into France
¶Sir, the Foole hath much pined away.
¶Lear. No more of that, I haue noted it well, goe you
605and tell my Daughter, I would speake with her. Goe you
¶call hither my Foole; Oh you Sir, you, come you hither
¶Sir, who am I Sir?
¶
Enter Steward.
¶Ste. My Ladies Father.
610Lear. My Ladies Father? my Lords knaue, you whor-
¶I beseech your pardon.
¶Lear. I thanke thee fellow.
620away, away, if you will measure your lubbers length a-
¶Lear. Now my friendly knaue I thanke thee, there's
¶
Enter Foole.
625Foole. Let me hire him too, here's my Coxcombe.
¶Lear. Why my Boy?
¶Foole. Why? for taking ones part that's out of fauour,
¶colde shortly, there take my Coxcombe; why this fellow
¶ha's banish'd two on's Daughters, and did the third a
¶needs weare my Coxcombe. How now Nunckle? would
635I had two Coxcombes and two Daughters.
¶Lear. Why my Boy?
¶Fool. If I gaue them all my liuing, I'ld keepe my Cox-
¶combes my selfe, there's mine, beg another of thy
¶Daughters.
640Lear. Take heed Sirrah, the whip.
¶whipt out, when the Lady Brach may stand by'th'fire
¶and stinke.
¶Lear. Do.
¶Foole. Marke it Nuncle;
¶Ride more then thou goest,
¶Learne more then thou trowest,
¶Leaue thy drinke and thy whore,
655And keepe in a dore,
¶And thou shalt haue more,
¶Then two tens to a score.
¶Kent. This is nothing Foole.
¶Foole. Then 'tis like the breath of an vnfeed Lawyer,
660you gaue me nothing for't, can you make no vse of no-
¶thing Nuncle?
¶Lear. Why no Boy,
¶Nothing can be made out of nothing.
665comes to, he will not beleeue a Foole.
¶Lear. A bitter Foole.
¶tweene a bitter Foole, and a sweet one.
¶Lear. No Lad, teach me.
670Foole. Nunckle, giue me an egge, and Ile giue thee
¶two Crownes.
¶Foole. Why after I haue cut the egge i'th'middle and
¶eate vp the meate, the two Crownes of the egge: when
¶durt, thou had'st little wit in thy bald crowne, when thou
¶And know not how their wits to weare,
¶thy Daughters thy Mothers, for when thou gau'st them
¶the rod, and put'st downe thine owne breeches, then they
¶For sodaine ioy did weepe,
¶And goe the Foole among.
¶Pry'thy Nunckle keepe a Schoolemaster that can teach
¶thy Foole to lie, I would faine learne to lie.
695Foole. I maruell what kin thou and thy daughters are,
¶they'l haue me whipt for speaking true: thou'lt haue me
¶whipt for lying, and sometimes I am whipt for holding
¶my peace. I had rather be any kind o' thing then a foole,
¶and yet I would not be thee Nunckle, thou hast pared thy
700wit o' both sides, and left nothing i'th'middle; heere
¶comes one o'the parings.
¶
Enter Gonerill.
¶Lear. How now Daughter? what makes that Frontlet
¶on? You are too much of late i'th'frowne.
¶need to care for her frowning, now thou art an O with-
¶out a figure, I am better then thou art now, I am a Foole,
¶your face bids me, though you say nothing.
710Mum, mum, he that keepes nor crust, nor crum,
¶Gon. Not only Sir this, your all-lycenc'd Foole,
¶But other of your insolent retinue
¶Do hourely Carpe and Quarrell, breaking forth
715In ranke, and (not to be endur'd) riots Sir.
¶I had thought by making this well knowne vnto you,
¶That you protect this course, and put it on
720By your allowance, which if you should, the fault
¶Which in the tender of a wholesome weale,
¶Might in their working do you that offence,
725Will call discreet proceeding.
¶Foole. For you know Nunckle, the Hedge-Sparrow
¶fed the Cuckoo so long, that it's had it head bit off by it
¶young, so out went the Candle, and we were left dark-
¶ling.
730Lear. Are you our Daughter?
¶(Whereof I know you are fraught), and put away
¶From what you rightly are.
¶the Horse?
¶Whoop Iugge I loue thee.
¶Lear. Do's any heere know me?
¶This is not Lear:
740Do's Lear walke thus? Speake thus? Where are his eies?
¶Either his Notion weakens, his Discernings
¶Are Lethargied. Ha! Waking? 'Tis not so?
¶Who is it that can tell me who I am?
745Lear. Your name, faire Gentlewoman?
¶Of other your new prankes. I do beseech you
750Heere do you keepe a hundred Knights and Squires,
¶That this our Court infected with their manners,
¶Makes it more like a Tauerne, or a Brothell,
¶A little to disquantity your Traine,
¶Which know themselues, and you.
¶Saddle my horses: call my Traine together.
¶Degenerate Bastard, Ile not trouble thee;
765Yet haue I left a daughter.
¶make Seruants of their Betters.
¶
Enter Albany.
¶Lear. Woe, that too late repents:
¶Ingratitude! thou Marble-hearted Fiend,
¶Then the Sea-monster.
¶Alb. Pray Sir be patient.
¶My Traine are men of choice, and rarest parts,
¶That all particulars of dutie know,
¶Which like an Engine, wrencht my frame of Nature
¶From the fixt place: drew from my heart all loue,
¶And added to the gall. O Lear, Lear, Lear!
¶Beate at this gate that let thy Folly in,
785And thy deere Iudgement out. Go, go, my people.
¶Of what hath moued you.
¶To make this Creature fruitfull:
¶Into her Wombe conuey stirrility,
¶Drie vp in her the Organs of increase,
¶And from her derogate body, neuer spring
¶Create her childe of Spleene, that it may liue
¶And be a thwart disnatur'd torment to her.
¶Let it stampe wrinkles in her brow of youth,
¶With cadent Teares fret Channels in her cheekes,
800Turne all her Mothers paines, and benefits
¶To laughter, and contempt: That she may feele,
¶How sharper then a Serpents tooth it is,
Exit.
¶Alb. Now Gods that we adore,
805Whereof comes this?
¶As dotage giues it.
¶
Enter Lear.
810Lear. What fiftie of my Followers at a clap?
¶Within a fortnight?
¶Alb. What's the matter, Sir?
¶Lear. Ile tell thee:
¶Life and death, I am asham'd
¶That these hot teares, which breake from me perforce
¶Should make thee worth them.
¶Blastes and Fogges vpon thee:
¶Th'vntented woundings of a Fathers curse
¶Beweepe this cause againe, Ile plucke ye out,
¶To temper Clay. Ha? Let it be so.
¶I haue another daughter,
825Who I am sure is kinde and comfortable:
¶I haue cast off for euer.
Exit
830Gon. Do you marke that?
¶To the great loue I beare you.
¶You Sir, more Knaue then Foole, after your Master.
835Foole. Nunkle Lear, Nunkle Lear,
¶Tarry, take the Foole with thee:
¶A Fox, when one has caught her,
¶And such a Daughter,
¶Should sure to the Slaughter,
840If my Cap would buy a Halter,
¶So the Foole followes after.
Exit
¶A hundred Knights?
¶'Tis politike, and safe to let him keepe
845At point a hundred Knights: yes, that on euerie dreame,
¶Each buz, each fancie, each complaint, dislike,
¶He may enguard his dotage with their powres,
¶Alb. Well, you may feare too farre.
¶Let me still take away the harmes I feare,
¶Not feare still to be taken. I know his heart,
¶What he hath vtter'd I haue writ my Sister:
¶
Enter Steward.
¶How now Oswald?
¶What haue you writ that Letter to my Sister?
¶Stew. I Madam.
¶Informe her full of my particular feare,
¶As may compact it more. Get you gone,
¶And hasten your returne; no, no, my Lord,
¶Though I condemne not, yet vnder pardon
¶Alb. How farre your eies may pierce I cannot tell;
870Striuing to better, oft we marre what's well.
¶Gon. Nay then----
