SCENE IV.
An open place before the palace.
Enter Kent, disguised.
Kent.
5 note
If but as well I other accents borrow,
That can my speech diffuse, my good intent
-- 386 --
May carry through itself to that full issue
For which I raz'd my likeness.—Now, banish'd Kent,
If thou can'st serve where thou dost stand condemn'd,
(So may it come!) thy master, whom thou lov'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 dost thou profess? What would'st 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 6 note
him that is
-- 387 --
wise, and says little; to fear judgment; to fight,
when I cannot choose; 7 noteand 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 would'st
thou?
Kent.
Service.
Lear.
Whom would'st 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 can'st 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
qualify'd in; and the best of me is diligence.
Lear.
How old art thou?
Kent.
Not so young, sir, to love a woman for singing;
-- 388 --
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-pole
back.—Where's my fool, ho?—I think the
world's asleep.—How now? where's that 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 answer'd 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 entertain'd
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 wrong'd.
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 pretence8 note and purpose of
-- 389 --
unkindness: I will look further into't.—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 pin'd 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.
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 these, my lord; I beseech you,
pardon me.
Lear.
Do you bandy looks9 note
with me, you rascal?
[Striking him.
Stew.
I'll not be struck, my lord.
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
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.
-- 390 --
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, fool1 note?
Fool.
Why? For taking one's part that is out of
favour: Nay, an thou can'st not smile as the wind sits,
thou'lt catch cold shortly: There, 2 note
take my coxcomb:
Why, this fellow has banish'd 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 had3 note
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
-- 391 --
be whipp'd out, when the 4 note
lady brach may stand by
the fire and stink.
Lear.
A pestilent gall to me!
Fool.
Sirrah, I'll teach thee a speech.
[To Kent.
Lear.
Do.
Fool.
Mark it, nuncle:—
Have more than thou showest,
Speak less than thou knowest,
5 note
Lend less than thou owest,
Ride more than thou goest,
6 noteLearn 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.
Kent.
This is nothing, fool7 note.
-- 392 --
Fool.
Then it is 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.
8 noteNo, 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; 9 note
if I had a monopoly out, they would have
-- 393 --
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 had'st 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.
10 noteFools ne'er had 1 noteless grace in a year;
[Singing.
For wise men are grown foppish;
And know not how their wits to wear,
Their manners are so apish.
Lear.
When were you wont to be so full of songs,
sirrah?
Fool.
I have used it, nuncle, ever since thou mad'st
thy daughters thy mothers: for when thou gavest
them the rod, and put'st down thine own breeches,
-- 394 --
Then they for sudden joy did weep2 note
,
[Singing.
And I for sorrow sung,
That such a king should play bo-peep,
And go the fools among.
Pr'ythee, nuncle, keep a school-master that can teach
thy fool to lie; I would fain learn to lie.
Lear.
If you lie, sirrah, we'll have you whipt.
Fool.
I marvel, what kin thou and thy daughters
are: they'll have me whipt for speaking true, thou'lt
have me whipt for lying; and, sometimes, 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 hast pared thy wit o'both sides, and left
nothing in the middle: Here comes one o'the parings.
Enter Goneril.
Lear.
How now, daughter? what makes 3 note
that frontlet on?
Methinks, you are too much of late i' the frown.
-- 395 --
Fool.
Thou wast a pretty fellow, when thou had'st
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, forsooth, I will
hold my tongue; [To Goneril] so your face bids me,
though you say nothing. Mum, mum,
He that keeps nor crust nor crum,
Weary of all, shall want some.—
4 note
That's a sheal'd peascod.
[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 5 note
put it on
By your allowance; which if you should, the fault
Would not 'scape censure, nor the redresses sleep;
Which, in the tender of a wholesome weal,
Might in their working do you that offence,
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 its young.
-- 396 --
So, out went the candle, and we 6 note
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 you7 note
From what you rightly are.
Fool.
May not an ass know when the cart draws
the horse?—8 note
Whoop, Jug! I love thee.
Lear.
Does any here know me?—Why this is not Lear9 note
:
Does Lear walk thus? speak thus?—Where are his eyes?
Either his notion weakens, or his discernings
Are lethargy'd—Ha! waking?—'Tis not so1 note
.—
Who is it that can tell me who I am?—Lear's shadow2 note?
-- 397 --
I would learn that; 3 note
for by the marks
Of sov'reignty, of knowledge, and of reason,
-- 398 --
I should be false persuaded I had daughters4 note
.—
Your name, fair gentlewoman?
Gon.
Come, sir;
This admiration is much o' the favour
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;
Men so disorder'd, so debauch'd, and bold,
That this our court, infected with their manners,
Shews like a riotous inn: epicurism and lust
Make it more like a tavern, or a brothel,
Than 5 notea grac'd palace. The shame itself doth speak
For instant remedy: Be then desir'd
By her, that else will take the thing she begs,
6 note
note; but
it appears, from what Lear says in the next scene, that this number
fifty was required to be cut off, which (as the editions stood)
is no where specified by Goneril.
Pope.
Of fifty to disquantity your train;] If Mr. Pope had examined
the old copies as accurately as he pretended to have done, he
would have found, in the first folio, that Lear had an exit marked
for him after these words—
To have a thankless child.—Away, away.
and goes out while Albany and Goneril have a short conference
of two speeches; and then returns in a still greater passion,
having been informed (as it should seem) of the express number, without.
What? fifty of my followers at a clap!
This renders all change needless; and away, away, being restored,
prevents the repetition of go, go, my people; which, as
the text stood before this regulation, concluded both that and
the foregoing speech. Goneril, with great art, is made to avoid
mentioning the limited number; and leaves her father to be informed
of it by accident, which she knew would be the case as
soon as he left her presence.
Steevens.
A little to disquantity your train;
-- 399 --
And the remainder, 7 notethat shall still depend,
To be such men as may besort your age,
And know themselves and you.
Lear.
Darkness and devils!—
Saddle my horses; call my train together.—
Degenerate bastard! I'll not trouble thee;
Yet have I left a daughter.
Gon.
You strike my people; and your disorder'd rabble
Make servants of their betters.
Enter Albany.
Lear.
Woe, that too late repents,—O, sir, are you come?
Is it your will? speak, sir.—Prepare my horses.—
[To Albany.
Ingratitude! thou marble-hearted fiend,
More hideous, when thou shew'st thee in a child,
8 noteThan the sea-monster!
Alb.
Pray, sir, be patient9 note.
Lear.
Detested kite! thou liest:
[To Goneril.
-- 400 --
My train are men of choice and rarest parts,
That all particulars of duty know;
And in the most exact regard support
The worships of their name.—O most small fault,
How ugly didst thou in Cordelia shew!
Which, 2 note
like an engine, wrench'd my frame of nature
From the fixt place; drew from my heart all love,
And added to the gall. O Lear, Lear, Lear!
Beat at this gate, that let thy folly in,
[Striking his head.
And thy dear judgment out!—Go, go, my people.
Alb.
My lord, I am guiltless, as I am ignorant
Of what hath mov'd you3 note.
Lear.
It may be so, my lord.—
Hear, nature! hear; dear goddess, hear!
Suspend thy purpose, if thou didst intend
To make this creature fruitful!
Into her womb convey sterility;
Dry up in her the organs of increase;
And 4 note
from her derogate body never spring
A babe to honour her! If she must teem,
Create her child of spleen; that it may live,
And be a thwart disnatur'd5 note
torment to her!
-- 401 --
Let it stamp wrinkles in her brow of youth;
With 6 notecadent tears fret channels in her cheeks;
Turn all her mother's pains, and benefits,
To laughter and contempt; that she may feel
How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is
To have a thankless child!—Away, away!
[Exit.
Alb.
Now, gods, that we adore, whereof comes this?
Gon.
Never afflict yourself to know the cause;
But let his disposition have that scope
That dotage gives it.
Re-enter Lear.
Lear.
What, fifty of my followers, at a clap!
Within a fortnight!
Alb.
What's the matter, sir?
Lear.
I'll tell thee;—Life and death! I am asham'd
That thou hast power to shake my manhood thus:
[To Goneril.
7 noteThat these hot tears, which break from me perforce,
Should make thee worth them.—Blasts and fogs upon thee!
8 noteThe untented woundings of a father's curse
Pierce every sense about thee!—Old fond eyes,
-- 402 --
Beweep this cause again, I'll pluck you out;
And cast you, with the waters that you lose9 note,
To temper clay.—Ha! is it come to this?
1 note
Let it be so:—Yet I have left a daughter,
Who, I am sure, is kind and comfortable;
When she shall hear this of thee, with her nails
She'll flea thy wolfish visage. Thou shalt find,
That I'll resume the shape which thou dost think
I have cast off for ever; thou shalt, I warrant thee.
[Exeunt Lear, Kent, and attendants.
Gon.
Do you mark that, my lord?
Alb.
I cannot be so partial, Goneril,
To the great love I bear you,—
Gon.
Pray you, content.—What, Oswald, ho!
You, sir, more knave than fool, after your master.
[To the Fool.
Fool.
Nuncle Lear, nuncle Lear, tarry, and take
the fool with thee.
A fox, when one has caught her,
And such a daughter,
Should sure to the slaughter,
If my cap would buy a halter;
So the fool follows after.
[Exit.
*2 noteGon.
This man hath had good counsel:—A hundred knights!
'Tis politic, and safe, to let him keep
3 noteAt point, a hundred knights. Yes, that on every dream,
Each buz, each fancy, each complaint, dislike,
-- 403 --
He may enguard his dotage with their powers,
And hold our lives at mercy.—Oswald, I say!—
Alb.
Well, you may fear too far.
Gon.
Safer than trust too far:
Let me still take away the harms I fear,
Not fear still to be taken. I know his heart:
What he hath utter'd, I have writ my sister;
If she sustain him and his hundred knights,
When I have shew'd the unfitness*,—How now, Oswald4 note
?
Enter Steward.
What, have you writ that letter to my sister?
Stew.
Ay, madam.
Gon.
Take you some company, and away to horse:
Inform her full of my particular fear;
And thereto add such reasons of your own,
As may 5 notecompact it more. Get you gone;
And hasten your return. No, no, my lord,
[Exit Steward.
This milky gentleness, and course of yours,
Though I condemn it not, yet, under pardon,
You are much 6 note
more at task for want of wisdom,
Than prais'd for harmful mildness.
Alb.
How far your eyes may pierce, I cannot tell;
Striving to better, oft we mar what's well.
-- 404 --
Gon.
Nay, then—
Alb.
Well, well; the event.
[Exeunt.
Samuel Johnson [1778], The plays of William Shakspeare. In ten volumes. With the corrections and illustrations of various commentators; to which are added notes by Samuel Johnson and George Steevens. The second edition, Revised and Augmented (Printed for C. Bathurst [and] W. Strahan [etc.], London) [word count] [S10901].
