[Enter Kent in disguise.]
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 razed my likeness. Now, banished Kent,
[5] If thou canst serve where thou dost stand
condemned,
So may it come thy master, whom thou lov’st,
Shall find thee full of labors.
[Horns within. Enter Lear, Knights, and Attendants.]
LEAR Let me not stay a jot for dinner. Go get it ready.
[An Attendant exits.]
[10] 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
[15] 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?
[20]KENT A very honest-hearted fellow, and as poor as the
King.
LEAR If thou be’st as poor for a subject as he’s for a
king, thou art poor enough. What wouldst thou?
KENT Service.
[25]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.
[30]LEAR What’s that?
KENT Authority.
LEAR What services canst do?
KENT I can keep honest counsel, ride, run, mar a
curious tale in telling it, and deliver a plain message
[35] 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 anything. I have years
[40] 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.
[An Attendant exits.]
[Enter Oswald, the Steward.]
[45] You, you, sirrah, where’s my daughter?
OSWALD So please you— [He exits.]
LEAR What says the fellow there? Call the clotpole
back. [ A Knight exits.] Where’s my Fool? Ho! I think
the world’s asleep.
[Enter Knight again.]
[50] 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 answered me in the roundest manner,
[55] 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 entertained
with that ceremonious affection as you were wont.
[60] There’s a great abatement of kindness appears as
well in the general dependents as in the Duke
himself also, and your daughter.
LEAR Ha? Sayst thou so?
KNIGHT I beseech you pardon me, my lord, if I be
[65] mistaken, for my duty cannot be silent when I think
your Highness wronged.
LEAR Thou but remembrest me of mine own conception.
I have perceived a most faint neglect of late,
which I have rather blamed as mine own jealous
[70] curiosity than as a very pretense and purpose of
unkindness. 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.
[75]LEAR No more of that. I have noted it well.—Go you
and tell my daughter I would speak with her. [ An
Attendant exits.] Go you call hither my Fool.
[Another exits.]
[Enter Oswald, the Steward.]
O you, sir, you, come you hither, sir. Who am I, sir?
OSWALD My lady’s father.
[80]LEAR “My lady’s father”? My lord’s knave! You whoreson
dog, you slave, you cur!
OSWALD I am none of these, my lord, I beseech your
pardon.
LEAR Do you bandy looks with me, you rascal?
[Lear strikes him.]
[85]OSWALD I’ll not be strucken, my lord.
KENT , [tripping him] Nor tripped neither, you base
football player?
LEAR I thank thee, fellow. Thou serv’st me, and I’ll
love thee.
[90]KENT , [to Oswald] 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. [Oswald exits.]
LEAR Now, my friendly knave, I thank thee. There’s
[95] earnest of thy service. [He gives Kent a purse.]
[Enter Fool.]
FOOL Let me hire him too. [To Kent.] Here’s my
coxcomb. [He offers Kent his cap]
LEAR How now, my pretty knave, how dost thou?
FOOL , [to Kent] Sirrah, you were best take my
[100] coxcomb.
LEAR Why, my boy?
FOOL Why? For taking one’s part that’s out of favor.
[To Kent.] Nay, an thou canst not smile as the
wind sits, thou ’lt catch cold shortly. There, take my
[105] coxcomb. Why, this fellow has banished two on ’s
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.
[110]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.
[115]FOOL Truth’s a dog must to kennel; he must be
whipped out, when the Lady Brach may stand by th’
fire and stink.
LEAR A pestilent gall to me!
FOOL Sirrah, I’ll teach thee a speech.
[120]LEAR Do.
FOOL Mark it, nuncle:
Have more than thou showest.
Speak less than thou knowest,
Lend less than thou owest,
[125] 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,
[130] And thou shalt have more
Than two tens to a score.
KENT 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
[135] of nothing, nuncle?
LEAR Why no, boy. Nothing can be made out of
nothing.
FOOL , [to Kent] Prithee tell him, so much the rent of his
land comes to. He will not believe a Fool.
[140]LEAR A bitter Fool!
FOOL Dost know the difference, my boy, between a
bitter fool and a sweet one?
LEAR No, lad, teach me.
FOOL That lord that counseled thee
[145] To give away thy land,
Come place him here by me;
Do thou for him stand.
The sweet and bitter fool
Will presently appear:
[150] 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.
[155]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 the fool
to myself; they’ll be snatching.—Nuncle, give me
[160] an egg, and I’ll give thee two crowns.
LEAR What two crowns shall they be?
FOOL Why, after I have cut the egg i’ th’ middle and eat
up the meat, the two crowns of the egg. When thou
clovest thy crown i’ th’ middle and gav’st away
[165] both parts, thou bor’st thine ass on thy back o’er
the dirt. Thou hadst little wit in thy bald crown
when thou gav’st thy golden one away. If I speak
like myself in this, let him be whipped that first
finds it so. [ Sings.]
[170] 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.
LEAR When were you wont to be so full of songs,
[175] sirrah?
FOOL I have used it, nuncle, e’er since thou mad’st thy
daughters thy mothers. For when thou gav’st them
the rod and put’st down thine own breeches,
[Sings.]
Then they for sudden joy did weep,
[180] And I for sorrow sung,
That such a king should play bo-peep
And go the fools among.
Prithee, nuncle, keep a schoolmaster that can teach
thy Fool to lie. I would fain learn to lie.
[185]LEAR An you lie, sirrah, we’ll have you whipped.
FOOL I marvel what kin thou and thy daughters are.
They’ll have me whipped for speaking true, thou ’lt
have me whipped for lying, and sometimes I am
whipped for holding my peace. I had rather be any
[190] kind o’ thing than a Fool. And yet I would not be
thee, nuncle. Thou hast pared thy wit o’ both sides
and left nothing i’ th’ middle. Here comes one o’ the
parings.
[Enter Goneril.]
LEAR
How now, daughter? What makes that frontlet on?
[195] Methinks you are too much of late i’ th’ 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. [To Goneril.] Yes,
[200] forsooth, I will hold my tongue. So your face bids
me, though you say nothing.
Mum, mum,
He that keeps nor crust nor crumb,
Weary of all, shall want some.
[He points at Lear.]
[205] That’s a shelled peascod.
GONERIL
Not only, sir, this your all-licensed Fool,
But other of your insolent retinue
Do hourly carp and quarrel, breaking forth
In rank and not-to-be-endurèd riots. Sir,
[210] 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
[215] Would not ’scape censure, nor the redresses sleep
Which in the tender of a wholesome weal
Might in their working do you that offense,
Which else were shame, that then necessity
Will call discreet proceeding.
[220]FOOL For you know, nuncle,
The hedge-sparrow fed the cuckoo so long,