L. Horns stop.
Lear.
Let me not stay a jot for dinner; go, get it ready.
(Exit an Attendant, R.) How now, what art thou?
Kent. (R.)
A man, sir.
Lear. (C.)
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 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 would'st thou?
Kent.
Service.
Lear.
Who 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.
-- 21 --
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.
Thy name?
Kent.
Caius!
Lear.
Follow me; thou shalt serve me: (gives him
spear)—Dinner, ho, dinner.—Where's my knave? my fool?
Go you, and call my fool hither.
Enter Oswald, R. 2 E., singing; he crosses, L.
You, you, sirrah, where's my daughter?
Oswald.
So please you.
Exit, L.
Lear.
What says the fellow there? Call the clodpole
back. (Kent and first Knight exit, L.—Physician crosses
behind to R.) Where's my fool, ho?—I think the world's
asleep.—(Knight returns, L.) How now? where's that mongrel?
Knight.
He says, my lord, your daughter is not well.
Lear.
Why came not the slave back to me, when I
called 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.
Lear.
Ha! sayest thou so? thou but remember'st me
of mine own conception: I will look further into't.—But
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.
-- 22 --
Go you, call hither my fool.—
Exit Physician, R.; Knight, L.
Re-enter Kent, pulling in Oswald, L.
O, you sir, you sir, come you hither. Who am I, sir?
Oswald.
My lady's father.
Lear.
My lady's father! my lord's knave: you whoreson
dog! you slave! you cur!
Oswald.
I am none of this, my lord; I beseech you,
pardon me.
Lear.
Do you bandy looks with me, you rascal?
(striking him and crossing to L.)
Oswald.
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.
If you will measure your lubber's length again, tarry.
Away, away!
(pushes Oswald out, R. 2 E.)
Lear.
Now, my friendly knave, I thank thee: there's
earnest of thy service.
(giving Kent money)
Enter Fool, followed by the Knight, L. 2 E.
Fool. (C.)
Let me hire him too;—Here's my coxcomb.
(offering Kent his cap)
Lear. (L.)
How now, my pretty knave? how dost thou?
Fool.
Sirrah, you were best take my coxcomb.
Kent. (R.)
Why, Fool?
Fool.
Why? For taking one's part that's out of
favor: Nay, an' thou can'st not smile as the wind 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.—Sirrah, I'll
teach thee a speech.
Lear
Do!
Fool.
Mark it, nuncle:—
Have more than thou showest,
Speak less than thou knowest,
Lend less than thou owest,
-- 23 --
Learn more than thou trowest,
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 (to Kent) tell him, so much the rent of
his land comes to; he will not believe a fool.
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 counsell'd thee
To give away thy land,
Come place him here by me,—
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.
(crossing, L.)
Kent.
This is not altogether fool, my lord.
Fool.
No, 'faith, lords and great men will not let me;
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. 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
whipped that first finds it so.
(sings)
Fools had ne'er less grace in a year,
For wise men are grown foppish;
And know not how their wits to wear,
Their manners are so apish.
-- 24 --
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 mothers, for when thou gavest them
the rod for thine own back.
(singing)
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.
Pr'ythee, nuncle, keep a schoolmaster that can teach thy
fool to lie; I would fain learn to lie.
Lear.
Ah! you lie, sirrah! we'll have you whipp'd.
Fool.
I marvel, what kin thou and thy daughters are;
they'll have me whipp'd for speaking true, thou'lt have
me whipp'd for lying; and sometimes I am whipp'd 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 frowning, and Physician, R. 2 E.
Lear.
How now, daughter? what makes that frontlet on?
Methinks, you are too much of late i' the frown.
Fool.
Thou wast a pretty fellow, when thou hadst 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;
so your face (to Goneril) bids me, though you say nothing.
Mum, mum.
He that keeps nor crust nor crum,
Weary of all, shall want some.—
Goneril.
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
-- 25 --
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,
So out went the candle, and we were left darkling.
(Kent takes Fool up the stage)
Lear.
Are you our daughter?
Goneril.
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.
Lear.
Does any here know me? Why this is not Lear:
does Lear walk thus? speak thus? Where are his eyes?
Who is it that can tell me who I am? I would learn that;
for by the marks of sovereignty, knowledge, and reason,
I should be false persuaded I had daughters. Your name,
fair gentlewoman?
Goneril.
This admiration is much o' the savor
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 debosh'd and bold,
That this our court, infected with their manners,
Shows more like a riotous inn, tavern, or brothel,
Then a 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,
A little to disquantity your train; take half away,
And see that the remainder, that 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.
-- 26 --
Enter Albany, R.
Goneril.
You strike my people; and your disorder'd rabble
Make servants of their betters.
Lear.
Woe, that too late repents,—O, sir, are you come?
Is it your will? (to Albany) Speak, sir,—(to his Knights) Prepare my horses.
Ingratitude! thou marble-hearted fiend,
More hideous, when thou show'st thee in a child,
Than the sea-monster!
Alb. (R.)
Pray, sir, be patient.
Lear.
Detested kite! thou liest:
(to Goneril)
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 did'st thou in Cordelia show!
Which, like an engine, wrench'd my frame of nature
From the fix'd 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. (crosses, C.)
Now, gods, that we adore, whereof comes this?
Goneril. (R. C.)
Never afflict yourself to know the cause;
But let his disposition have that scope
That dotage gives it.
Lear.
What! fifty of my fellows 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)
That these hot tears, which break from me perforce,
Should make thee worth them.—Blasts and fogs, upon thee!
Th' untented woundings of a father's curse
Pierce every sense about thee!—Old fond eyes,
Beweep this cause again, I'll pluck you out;
And cast you, with the waters that you lose,
To temper clay.
-- 27 --
Ha! let it be so:—I have another daughter,
Who, I am sure, is kind and comfortable;
When she shall hear this of thee, with her nails
She'll flay thy wolfish visage. Thou shalt find,
That I'll resume the shape which thou dost think
I have cast off for ever.
Goneril.
Do you mark that, my lord?
Alb.
My lord, I am guiltless, as I am ignorant
Of what hath mov'd you.
Lear.
It may be so, my lord.—
(kneels)
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 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'd torment to her!
Let it stamp wrinkles in her brow of youth;
With cadent 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!
Kent and Physician bearing Lear off, L.—Knights and Fool grouped, L. C.—Goneril and Albany, R.
END OF ACT I.
William Macready [1857], King Lear. A Tragedy, in five acts, by William Shakespeare (Thomas Hailes Lacy [etc.], London) [word count] [S41000].
