L.
Lear. (L.)
In there, and tell our daughter we are here.
[Exit First Knight, R.
Now what art thou?
Kent. (advancing, R.)
A man, sir.
Lear.
What dost thou profess, or would'st with us?
Kent.
I do profess to be no less than I seem, to serve him
truly that puts me in trust, to love him that's honest, to converse
with him that's wise and speaks little, to fight when I
can't choose, and to eat no fish.
Lear.
I say, what art thou?
Kent.
A very honest-hearted fellow, and as poor as the
king.
Lear.
If thou art as poor for a subject, as he is for a king,
thou art poor enough.—Dost thou know me, fellow?
-- 20 --
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, mar a curious tale in
the telling, 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.
[Kent goes to R. of the Second Knight.
Enter Oswald, L. singing, and passing King Lear carelessly.
Now, sir?
Osm.
Sir!—Tol de rol, &c.
[Exit singing, R.
Lear.
What says the fellow? call the clodpole back.
[Exeunt Kent and the Second Knight, R.
Physic. (L.)
My lord, I know not; but, methinks, your
highness is entertain'd with slender ceremony.
Lear.
Say'st thou so!
Thou but remember'st me of mine own conception.
Re-enter the Second Knight, R.
Why came not that slave back when I call'd him?
Second Knight. (R.)
My lord, he answer'd i' th' surliest
manner that he would not.
[Goes to his former place.
Lear. (L. C.)
I hope our daughter did not so instruct
him.
Enter Oswald brought in by Kent.
Now, who am I, sir?
Osw. (C.)
My lady's father.
Lear.
My lady's father! My lord's knave
[Strikes him.
Osw.
I'll not be struck, my lord.
-- 21 --
Kent.
Nor tript, neither, you vile civit-box.
[Trips up his heels.
Lear.
I thank thee fellow: thou serv'st me.
Kent.
Come, sir, arise, away; I'll teach you differences.
[Exit Oswald, crying out R. U. E.—Kent pursues him
with his staff till he is off and then returns to the Knights, L.
Gon. [Without, R.]
By day and night! this is insufferable;
I will not bear it.
Enter Goneril, R. U. E. attended by a Page and two Ladies.
Lear. (C.)
Now, daughter, why that frontlet on?
Speak, does that frown become our presence?
Gon. (R.)
Sir, this licentious insolence of your servants
Is most unseemly: hourly they break out
In quarrels, bred by their unbounded riots;
I had fair hope, by making this known to you,
To have had a quick redress; but find too late
That you protect and countenance their outrage;
And therefore, sir, I take this freedom, which
Necessity makes discreet.
Lear.
Are you our daughter?
Gon.
Come, sir, let me intreat you to make use
Of your discretion, and put off betimes
This disposition that of late transforms 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?
Your name, fair gentlewoman?
Gon.
Come, sir, this admiration's much o'th' savour
Of other your new honours; I beseech you
To understand my purposes aright;
As you are old, you should be staid and wise:
Here do you keep an hundred knights and 'squires,
Men so debauch'd and bold, that this our palace
Shews like a riotous inn, a tavern, brothel:
Be then advis'd by her, that else will take
That which she begs, to lessen your attendants;
Take half away, and see that the remainder
Be such as may befit your age, and know
Themselves and you.
-- 22 --
Lear.
Darkness and devils!—
Saddle my horses, call my train together.
Degenerate viper! I'll not stay with thee;
I yet have left a daughter—Serpent! Monster!—
Lessen my train, and call 'em riotous!
All men approv'd, of choice and rarest parts,
That each particular of duty know.—
How small, Cordelia, was thy fault?—O, Lear,
Beat at this gate—[Strikes his head]—that let thy folly in,
And thy dear judgment out! Go, go, my people.
Enter Albany, R. U. E.
Ingrateful Duke!—Prepare my horses.—Was this your will?
Who stirs?
[Exit Third Knight, L.
Alb.
What, sir?
Lear.
Death! fifty of my followers at a clap!
Alb. [To Goneril.]
The matter, madam?
Gon.
Never afflict yourself to know the cause,
But give his dotage way.
Lear.
Blasts 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 ye out,
And cast ye, with the waters that ye lose,
To temper clay.—No, Gorgon; thou shalt find
That I'll resume the shape, which thou dost think
I have cast off for ever.
Gon. (R.)
Mark ye that?
Alb. (R. C.)
I'm ignorant—
Lear. (L.)
It may be so, my lord.—[Lear throws away his hat and staff as he falls on his knees.]—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;
That 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 athwart 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,
-- 23 --
To laughter and contempt; that she may feel,
How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is,
To have a thankless child! [Kent and the Physician raise the King; the First Knight takes up his hat and staff.] Away! away!
[Exeunt King Lear and his Attendants, L.—Albany, Goneril, and their Attendants, R.
END OF ACT I.
Edmund Kean [1830], King Lear. A tragedy, In Five Acts, by William Shakspeare. Printed from the acting copy, with remarks, biographical and critical, by D.—G. To which are added, description of the costume,—cast of the characters,—entrances and exits,—relative positions of the performers on the stage, and the whole of the stage business, As performed at the Theatres Royal, London. Embellished with a fine engraving, By Mr. White, from a Drawing taken in the Theatre, by Mr R. Cruikshank (John Cumberland [etc.], London) [word count] [S34400].
