And find, I am alone felicitate

In your dear highness' love.
Čor.

Then poor Cordelia! [Aside. And yet not so; since, I am sure, my love's More richer than my tongue.

Lear. To thee, and thine, hereditary ever, Remain this ample third of our fair kingdom; No less in space, validity, and pleasure, Than that confirm'd on Goneril.-Now, our joy, Although the last, not least; to whose young love The vines of France, and milk of Burgundy, Strive to be interess'd what can you say, to draw A third more opulent than your sisters ? Speak, Cor. Nothing, my lord.

Lear. Nothing?

Cor. Nothing.

Cor.

Lear. Nothing can come of nothing: speak again.
Cor. Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave
My heart into my mouth: I love your majesty
According to my bond; nor more, nor less.
Lear. How, how, Cordelia? mend your speech a
Lest it may mar your fortunes.
[little,
Good, my lord,
You have begot me, bred me, lov'd me: I
Return those duties back as are right fit,
Obey you, love you, and most honour you.
Why have my sisters husbands, if they say,
They love you, all? Haply, when I shall wed,
That lord, whose hand must take my plight, shall carry
Half my love with him, half my care, and duty:
Sure, shall never marry like my sisters,
To love my father all.

Lear. But goes this with thy heart?
Cor.

Ay, good my lord.
Lear. So young, and so untender?
Cor. So young, my lord, and true.
Lear. Let it be so. Thy truth then be thy dower:
For, by the sacred radiance of the sun;
The mysteries of Hecate, and the night;

By all the operations of the orbs,

From whom we do exist, and cease to be;
Here I disclaim all my paternal care,

Propinquity and property of blood,

And as a stranger to my heart and me

Hold thee, from this, forever. The barbarous Scythian,
Or he that makes his generation messes

To gorge his appetite, shall to my bosoin,
Be as well neighbour'd, pitied, and reliev'd,
As thou my sometime daughter.

Kent.

Lear. Peace, Kent!

Good, my liege,

Come not between the dragon and his wrath:
I lov'd her most, and thought to set my rest
On her kind nursery.-Hence, and avoid my sight!
[To Cordelia.
So be my grave my peace, as here I give
Her father's heart from her!-Call France :- Who
Call Burgundy.-Cornwall and Albany, [stirs?
With my two daughters' dowers digest this third :
Let pride, which she calis plainness, marry her.
I do invest you jointly with my power,
Pre-eminence, and all the large effects

Lear.

Hear me, recreant! On thine allegiance hear me !Since thou hast sought to make us break our vow (Which we durst never yet), and, with strain'd pride, To come betwixt our sentence and our power (Which nor our nature nor our place can bear); Our potency make good, take thy reward. Five days we do allot thee, for provision. To shield thee from diseases of the world; And, on the sixth, to turn thy hated back Upon our kingdom: if, on the tenth day following, Thy banish'd trunk be found in our dominions, The moment is thy death: Away! by Jupiter, This shall not be revok'd.

[appear, Kent. Fare thee well, king: since thus thou wilt Freedom lives hence, and banishment is here.The gods to their dear shelter take thee, maid, [To Cordelia. That justly think'st, and hast most rightly said !-, And your large speeches may your deeds approve, [To Regan and Goneril. That good effects may spring from words of love.Thus Kent, O princes, bids you all adieu; He'll shape his old course in a country new. [Exit. Re-enter Gloster; with France, Burgundy, and Attendants.

Glo. Here's France and Burgundy, my noble lord.
Lear. My lord of Burgundy,

We first address towards you, who with this king
Hath rivall'd for our daughter; What, in the least,
Will you require in present dower with her,
Or cease your quest of love?

Bur.

Most royal majesty, I crave no more than hath your highness offer'd, Nor will you tender less. Lear. Right noble Burgundy, When she was dear to us, we did hold her so; But now her price is fall'n: Sir, there she stands; If aught within that little, seeming substance, Or all of it, with our displeasure piec'd, And nothing more, may fitly like your grace, She's there, and she is yours. Bur.

Lear. Sir,

I know no answer.

Will you, with those infirmities she owes,

With reservation of an hundred knights,

By you to be sustain'd, shall our abode.

Make with you by due turns. Only we still retain The name, and all the additions to a king;

The sway,

Revenue, execution of the rest,

Kent.

Beloved sons, be yours: which to confirm,
This coronet part between you. [Giving the Crown.
Royal Lear,
Whom I have ever honour'd as my king,
Lov'd as my father, as my master follow'd,
As my great patron thought on in my prayers.-
Lear. The bow is bent and drawn, make from the

shaft.

Kent. Let it fall rather, though the fork invade The region of my heart: be Kent unmannerly, When Lear is mad. What wouldst thou do, old man? Think'st thou, that duty shall have dread to speak, When power to flattery bows? To plainness honour's

bound,

When majesty stoops to folly. Reverse thy doom; And, in thy best consideration, check

This hideous rashness: answer my life, my judgment,
Thy youngest daughter does not love thee least;
Nor are those empty-hearted, whose low sound
Reverbs no hollowness.

Lear.
Kent, on thy life, no more.
Kent. My life I never held but as a pawn

This is most strange! That she, that even but now was your best object, The argument of your praise, balm of your age, Most best, most dearest, should in this trice of time Commit a thing so monstrous, to dismantle So many folds of favour! Sure, her offence Must be of such unnatural degree, That monsters it, or your fore-vouch'd affection Fall into taint: which to believe of her, Must be a faith, that reason without miracle Could never plant in me. Cor.

I yet beseech your majesty (If for I want that glib and oily art. To speak and purpose not; since what I well intend, IP'I do't before I speak), that you make known

Give but that portion which yourself propos'd,
And here I take Cordelia by the hand,
Duchess of Burgundy.

Lear. Nothing: I have sworn; I am firm.
Bur. I am sorry thea, you have so lost a father,
That you must lose a husband.

[poor;

Cor. Peace be with Burgundy! Since that respects of fortune are his love, I shall not be his wife. France. Fairest Cordelia, that art most rich, being Most choice, forsaken; and most lov'd, despis'd! Thee and thy virtues here I seize upon : Be it lawful, I take up what's cast away. Gods, gods! 'tis strange, that from their cold'st neglect My love should kindle to inflam'd respect.Thy dowerless daughter, king, thrown to my chance, Is queen of us, of ours, and our fair France: Not all the dukes of wat'rish Burgundy Shall buy this unpriz'd precious maid of me.Bid them farewell, Cordelia, though unkind: Thou losest here, a better where to find.

[for we

Lear. Thou hast her, France: let her be thine; Have no such daughter, nor shall ever see That face of hers again :-Therefore be gone, Without our grace, our love, our benizon. Come, noble Burgundy.

[Flourish. Exeunt Lear, Burgundy, Cornwall, Albany, Gloster, and Attendants. France. Bid farewell to your sisters. Cor. The jewels of our father, with wash'd eyes Cordelia leaves you: I know you what you are; And, like a sister, am most loath to call

Your faults, as they are nam'd. Use well our father:
To your professed bosoms I commit him:
But yet, alas stood I within his grace,

I would prefer him to a better place.
So farewell to you both.

Gon. Prescribe not us our duties.
Reg.

Let your study
Be, to content your lord; who hath receiv'd you
At fortune's alms. You have obedience scanted,
And well are worth the want that you have wanted.
Cor. Time shall unfold what plaited cunning hides;
Who cover faults, at last shame them derides.
Well may you prosper!
France.

Come, my fair Cordelia. [Exeunt France and Cordelia. Gon. Sister, it is not a little I have to say, of what most nearly appertains to us both. I think, our father will hence to-night.

Reg. That's most certain, and with you; next month with us.

Gon. You see how full of changes his age is; the observation we have made of it hath not been little : he always loved our sister most; and with what poor judgment he hath now cast her off, appears too grossly.

Reg. 'Tis the infirmity of his age: yet he hath ever but slenderly known himself.

Gon. The best and soundest of his time hath been but rash; then must we look to receive from his age, not aloue the imperfections of long-engrafted condition, but, therewithal, the unruly waywardness that infirm and choleric years bring with them.

Reg. Such unconstant starts are we like to have from him, as this of Kent's banishment.

Gon. There is further compliment of leave-taking. between France and him. Pray you, let us hit together: If our father carry authority with such dispositions as he bears, this last surrender of his will but offend us.

Reg. We shall further think of it.

Gon. We must do something, and i'the heat.

[Exeunt,

SCENE II. A Hall in the Earl of Gloster's Castle. Enter Edmund, with a Letter.

Edm. Thou, nature, art my goddess; to thy law
My services are bound: Wherefore should I
Stand in the plague of custom; and permit
The curiosity of nations to deprive me,

For that I am some twelve or fourteen moon-shines
Lag of a brother? Why bastard? wherefore base?
When my dimensions are as well compact,
My mind as generous, and my shape as true,
As honest madam's issue? Why brand they us
With base with baseness? bastardy? base, base?
Who, in the lusty stealth of nature, take
More composition and fierce quality,
Than doth, within a dull, stale, tired bed,
Go to the creating a whole tribe of fops,
Got 'tween asleep and wake?-Well then,
Legitimate Edgar, I must have your land:
Our father's love is to the bastard Edmund,
As to the legitimate: Fine word,-legitimate!
Well, my legitimate, if this letter speed,
And my invention thrive, Edmund the base
Now, gods, stand up for bastards!
Shall top the legitimate. I grow; I prosper :-

Enter Gloster.

Glo. Kent banish'd thus! And France in choler parted!

And the king gone to-night! subscrib'd his power! Confin'd to exhibition! All this done

Upon the gad!-Edmund! How now? what news? Edm. So please your lordship, none.

[Putting up the Letter. Glo. Why so earnestly seek you to put up that letter.

Edm. I know no news, my lord.

Glo. What paper were you reading?

Edm. Nothing, my lord.

Glo. No? What needed then that terrible despatch of it into your pocket? the quality of nothing hath not such need to hide itself. Let's see: Come, if it be nothing, I shall not need spectacles.

Edm. I beseech you, sir, pardon me: it is a letter from my brother, that I have not all o'er-read; for so much as I have perused, I find it is not fit for your overlooking.

Glo. Give me the letter, sir.

Edm. I shall offend, either to detain or give it. The contents, as in part I understand them, are to blame.

Glo. Let's see, let's see.

Edm. I hope, for my brother's justification, he wrote this but as an essay or taste of my virtue.

Glo. [Reads] This policy, and reverence of age, makes the world bitter to the best of our times; keeps our fortunes from us, till our oldness cannot relish them. I begin to find an idle and fond bondage in the oppression of aged tyranny; who sways, not as it hath power, but as it is suffered. Come to me, that of this I may speak more. If our father would sleep till I waked him, you should enjoy half his revenue for ever, and live the beloved of your brother, Edgar. Humph- Conspiracy 1-Sleep till I waked him.-you should enjoy half his revenue,-My son Edgar! Had he a hand to write this? a heart and brain to breed it in?-When came this to you? Who brought it?

Edm. It was not brought me, my lord, there's the cunning of it; I found it thrown in at the casement of my closet.

Glo. You know the character, to be your brother's? Edm. If the matter were good, my lord, I durst swear it were his; but, in respect of that, I would fain think it were not.

Glo. It is his.

Edm. It is his hand, my lord; but, I hope, his heart is not in the contents.

Glo. Hath he never heretofore sounded you in this business?

Edm. Never, my lord: But I have often beard him maintain it to be fit, that, sons at perfect age, and fathers declining, the father should be as ward to the son, and the son manage his revenue.

Glo. O villain, villain!-His very opinion in the letter!-Abhorred villain! Unnatural, detested brutish villain! worse than brutish!-Go, sirrah, seek him; I'll apprehend him:-Abominable villain!Where is he?

Edm. I do not well know, my lord. If it shall please you to suspend your indignation against my brother, till yon can derive from him better testimony

of his intent, you shall run a certain course; where, if you violently proceed against him, mistaking his purpose, it would make a great gap in your own honour, and shake in pieces the heart of his obedience. I dare pawn down my life for him, that he hath writ this to feel my affection to your honour, and no other pretence of danger.

Glo. Think you so?

Edm. If your honour judge it meet, I will place you where you shall hear us confer of this, and by an auricular assurance have your satisfaction; and that without any further delay than this very evening.

Glo. He cannot be such a monster.
Edm. Nor is not, sure.

Glo. To his father, that so tenderly and ent's ely loves him.-Heaven and earth!-Edmund, seek him out; wind me into him, I pray you: frame the business after your own wisdom: I would unstate myself, to be in a due resolution.

Edm. I will seek him, sir, presently; convey the business as I shall find means, and acquaint you 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 disquietly to our graves!-Find out this villain, Edmund, it shall lose thee nothing; do it carefully:-And the noble and true-hearted Kent banished! his offence, honesty! Strange, strange! [Exit. Edm. This is the excellent foppery of the world! that, when we are sick in fortune (often the surfeit of our own behaviour), we make guilty of our disasters, the sun, the moon, and the stars as if we were villains, by necessity; fools, by heavenly compulsion; knaves, thieves, and treachers, 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.-0, these eclipses do portend these divisions! fa, sol, la, mi.

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, banishments of friends, dissipation of cohorts, nuptial breaches, and I know not what.

Edg. How long have you been a sectary astronomical ?

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 in him, that with the mischief of your person it would scarcely allay.

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,

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 trifle :-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; 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.

SCENE IV. A Hall in the same,

Enter Kent, disguised.

[Exeunt.

Kent. If but as well I other accents borrow, That can my speech diffuse, my good intent May carry through itself to that full issue For which I raz'd my likeness.-Now, banish'd Kent, If thou canst 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. [Exit an Attendant] How now, what art thou?

Kent. A man, sir,

Lear. What dost thou profess? What wouldst 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 wouldst thou? Kent. Service.

Lear. Who wouldst 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?

Lear. He would not!

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! sayest 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, than as a very pretence and purpose of 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 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.

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 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 lubber's length again, tarry: but away: go to; Have you wisdora ? 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. Lear. How now, my pretty knave? how dost thou ? Fool. Sirrah, you were best take my coxcomb. Kent. Why, fool?

Fool. Why? For taking one's part that is out of favour: Nay, an thou canst 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.-How now, nuncle? Would I had 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 be whipped out, when lady, the brach, may stand by the tire and stink.

Lear. A pestilent gall to me !

Fool. 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,
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 counsell'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 in the middle and gavest away both parts, thou borest thine ass on thy back over the dirt. Thou hadst little wit in thy bald speak like myself in this, let him be whipp'd that crown, when thou gavest thy golden one away. If I

first finds it so.

Fools had ne'er less 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 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.

Pr'ythee, nuncle, keep a schoolmaster that can teach thy fool to lie; I would fain learn to lie.

Lear. If 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, Lam 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.

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: 1 am better than thou art now; I am a fool, thou art nothing.-Yes, forsooth, I will hold my tongne: 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.
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 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 cnckoo so long, That it had its head bit off by its 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; for by the marks of sovereignty, knowledge, and reason, I should be false persuaded I had daughters.

Fool. Which they will make an obedient father. Lear. 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,
Shows like a riotous inn: epicurism and lust
Make it more like a tavern or a brothel,

Than a grac'd palace. The shame itself doth speak
For instant remedy: Be then desired

By her, that else will take the thing she begs,

A little to disquantity your train;

And the remainder, that shall still depend,
To be such men as may besort your age,
And know themselves and you.

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

Darkness and devils!

[rabble

Gon. You strike my people; and your disorder'd Make servants of their betters.

Enter Albany.

Lear. Woe, that too late repents,-0, sir, are you come? [my horses. Is it your will? [To Albany] Speak, sir. Prepare Ingratitude! thou marble-hearted fiend, More hideous, when thou show'st thee in a child, Than the sea-monster!

Alb.

[To Goneril.

Pray, sir, be patient. Lear. Detested kite! thou liest: 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 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. My lord, I am guiltless, as I am ignorant Of what hath mov'd you.

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 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 I'
Let it stamp wrinkles in her brow of youth;
With cadent tears fret channels in her cheeks;
Turn all her mother's paius, 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. That these hot tears, which break from me perforce, Should make thee worth them.-Blasts and fogs upon Pierce every sense about thee-Old fond eyes, The untented woundings of a father's curse [thee! Beweep this cause again, I'll pluck you out; And cast you, with the waters that you lose, Let it be so:-Yet have I left a daughter, To temper clay-Ha! is it come to this? When she shall hear this of thee, with her nails Who, I am sure, is kind and comfortable; 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: 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 I 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.

Gon. This man hath bad good counsel:-A hundred
At point, a hundred knights. Yes, that on every dream,
"Tis politic, and safe, to let him keep [knights!
Each buzz, each fancy, each complaint, dislike,
He may enguard his dotage with their powers,
And hold our lives in mercy.-Oswald, I say!--
Alb. Well, you may fear too far.
Gon.
Safer than trust:
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, [wald?
When I have show'd the unfitness.-How now, Os-
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 compact it more. Get you gone;
And hasten your return. [Exit Stew.] No, no, my
This milky gentleness, and course of yours,
Though I condemn it not, yet, under pardon,
You are much more attask'd for want of wisdom,
Than prais'd for harmful mildness.

[lord,

Alb. How far your eyes may pierce, I cannot tell; Striving to better, oft we mar what's well.

Gon. Nay, then

Alb. Well, well; the event.

[Exeunt.

SCENE V. Court before the same.

Enter Lear, Kent, and Fool.

Lear. Go you before to Gloster with these letters: acquaint my daughter no further with any thing you know, than comes from her demand out of the letter: If your diligence be not speedy, I shall be there before you.

Kent. I will not sleep, my lord, till I have delivered your letter. [Exit.

Fool. If a man's brains were in his heels, were't not in danger of kibes?

Lear. Ay, boy.

Fool. Then, I pr'ythee, be merry? thy wit shall not go slip-shod.

Lear. Ha, ha, ha!

Fool. Shalt see, thy other daughter will use thee kindly for though she's as like this as a crab is like an apple, yet I can tell what I can tell.

Lear. Why, what canst thou tell, my boy?

Fool. She will taste as like this, as a crab does to a crab. Thou canst tell, why one's nose stands i'the middle of his face!