KING LEAR [[THE FOLIO TEXT]]

Act 1 Scene 4

(Enter the Earl of Kent, disguised)
l1l	Kent	 If but as well I other accents borrow
l2l		That can my speech diffuse, my good intent
l3l		May carry through itself to that full issue
l4l		For which I razed my likeness. Now, banished Kent,
l5l		If thou canst serve where thou dost stand condemned,
l6l		So may it come thy master, whom thou lov’st,
l7l		Shall find thee full of labours.
		(Horns within. Enter King Lear and attendants from hunting)
l8l	Lear	 Let me not stay a jot for dinner. Go get it ready.
		(Exit one)
l9l		(To Kent)
		 How now, what art thou?
l10l	Kent	A man, sir.
l11l	Lear	What dost thou profess? What wouldst thou with
l12l		us?
l13l	Kent	I do profess to be no less than I seem, to serve him
l14l		truly that will put me in trust, to love him that is
l15l		honest, to converse with him that is wise and says
l16l		little, to fear judgement, to fight when I cannot choose,
l17l		and to eat no fish.
l18l	Lear	What art thou?
l19l	Kent	A very honest-hearted fellow, and as poor as the
l20l		King.
l21l	Lear	If thou be’st as poor for a subject as he’s for a king,
l22l		thou’rt poor enough. What wouldst thou?
l23l	Kent	Service.
l24l	Lear	Who wouldst thou serve?
l25l	Kent	You.
l26l	Lear	Dost thou know me, fellow?
l27l	Kent	No, sir, but you have that in your countenance
l28l		which I would fain call master.
l29l	Lear	What’s that?
l30l	Kent	Authority.
l31l	Lear	What services canst do?
l32l	Kent	I can keep honest counsel, ride, run, mar a curious
l33l		tale in telling it, and deliver a plain message bluntly.
l34l		That which ordinary men are fit for I am qualified in#
l35l		and the best of me is diligence.
l36l	Lear	How old art thou?
l37l	Kent	Not so young, sir, to love a woman for singing, nor
l38l		so old to dote on her for anything. I have years on my
l39l		back forty-eight.
l40l	Lear	Follow me. Thou shalt serve me, if I like thee no
l41l		worse after dinner. I will not part from thee yet. Dinner,
l42l		ho, dinner! Where’s my knave, my fool? Go you and
l43l		call my fool hither.
		(Exit one)
l44l		(Enter Oswald the steward)
		 You, you, sirrah, where’s my daughter?
l45l	Oswald	So please you—
		(Exit)
l46l	Lear	 What says the fellow there? Call the clotpoll back.
		(Exit a knight)
l47l		Where’s my fool? Ho, I think the world’s asleep.
		( 47 Enter a Knight)
l48l		How now? Where’s that mongrel?
l49l	Knight	He says, my lord, your daughter is not well.
l50l	Lear	Why came not the slave back to me when I called
l51l		him?
l52l	Knight	Sir, he answered me in the roundest manner he
l53l		would not.
l54l	Lear	A would not?
l55l	Knight	My lord, I know not what the matter is, but to
l56l		my judgement your highness is not entertained with
l57l		that ceremonious affection as you were wont. There’s
l58l		a great abatement of kindness appears as well in the
l59l		general dependants as in the Duke himself also, and
l60l		your daughter.
l61l	Lear	Ha, sayst thou so?
l62l	Knight	I beseech you pardon me, my lord, if I be
l63l		mistaken, for my duty cannot be silent when I think
l64l		your highness wronged.
l65l	Lear	Thou but rememberest me of mine own conception.
l66l		I have perceived a most faint neglect of late, which I
l67l		have rather blamed as mine own jealous curiosity than
l68l		as a very pretence and purpose of unkindness. I will
l69l		look further into ’t. But where’s my fool? I have not
l70l		seen him these two days.
l71l	Knight	Since my young lady’s going into France, sir, the
l72l		fool hath much pined away.
l73l	Lear	No more of that, I have noted it well. Go you and
l74l		tell my daughter I would speak with her.
		(Exit one)
l75l		Go you, call hither my fool.
		(Exit one)
l76l		(Enter Oswald the steward crossing the stage)
		 O you, sir, you, come you hither, sir, who am I, sir?
l77l	Oswald	My lady’s father.
l78l	Lear	My lady’s father? My lord’s knave, you whoreson
l79l		dog, you slave, you cur!
l80l	Oswald	I am none of these, my lord, I beseech your
l81l		pardon.
l82l	Lear	Do you bandy looks with me, you rascal?
		(Lear strikes him)
l83l	Oswald	 I’ll not be strucken, my lord.
l84l	Kent	(tripping him)
		 Nor tripped neither, you base football
l85l		player.
l86l	Lear	(to Kent)
		 I thank thee, fellow. Thou serv’st me, and
l87l		I’ll love thee.
l88l	Kent	(to Oswald)
		 Come, sir, arise, away. I’ll teach you
l89l		differences. Away, away. If you will measure your
l90l		lubber’s length again, tarry# but away, go to. Have
l91l		you wisdom? So.
		(Exit Oswald)
l92l	Lear	 Now, my friendly knave, I thank thee.
		(Enter Lear's Fool)
l93l		There’s earnest of thy service.
		(He gives Kent money)
l94l	Fool	 Let me hire him, too.
		(To Kent)
		 Here’s my coxcomb.
l95l	Lear	How now, my pretty knave, how dost thou?
l96l	Fool	(to Kent)
		 Sirrah, you were best take my coxcomb.
l97l	Lear	Why, my boy?
l98l	Fool	Why? For taking one’s part that’s out of favour.
		(To)
l99l		Kent) Nay, an thou canst not smile as the wind sits,
l100l		thou’lt catch cold shortly. There, take my coxcomb.
l101l		Why, this fellow has banished two on ’s daughters and
l102l		did the third a blessing against his will. If thou follow
l103l		him, thou must needs wear my coxcomb.
		(To Lear)
l104l		How now, nuncle? Would I had two coxcombs and
l105l		two daughters.
l106l	Lear	Why, my boy?
l107l	Fool	If I gave them all my living I’d keep my coxcombs
l108l		myself. There’s mine# beg another off thy daughters.
l109l	Lear	Take heed, sirrah—the whip.
l110l	Fool	Truth’s a dog must to kennel. He must be whipped
l111l		out when the Lady Brach may stand by th’ fire and
l112l		stink.
l113l	Lear	A pestilent gall to me!
l114l	Fool	(to Kent)
		 Sirrah, I’ll teach thee a speech.
l115l	Lear	Do.
l116l	Fool	Mark it, nuncle:
l117l		> Have more than thou showest,
l118l		Speak less than thou knowest,
l119l		Lend less than thou owest,
l120l		Ride more than thou goest,
l121l		Learn more than thou trowest,
l122l		Set less than thou throwest,
l123l		Leave thy drink and thy whore,
l124l		And keep in-a-door,
l125l		And thou shalt have more
l126l		Than two tens to a score.
l127l	Kent	 This is nothing, fool.
l128l	Fool	Then ’tis like the breath of an unfee’d lawyer: you
l129l		gave me nothing for ’t.
		(To Lear)
		 Can you make no use
l130l		of nothing, nuncle?
l131l	Lear	Why no, boy. Nothing can be made out of nothing.
l132l	Fool	(to Kent)
		 Prithee, tell him so much the rent of his
l133l		land comes to. He will not believe a fool.
l134l	Lear	A bitter fool.
l135l	Fool	Dost know the difference, my boy, between a bitter
l136l		fool and a sweet one?
l137l	Lear	No, lad. Teach me.
l138l	Fool	Nuncle, give me an egg, and I’ll give thee two
l139l		crowns.
l140l	Lear	What two crowns shall they be?
l141l	Fool	Why, after I have cut the egg i’ th’ middle and eat
l142l		up the meat, the two crowns of the egg. When thou
l143l		clovest thy crown i’ th’ middle and gavest away both
l144l		parts, thou borest thine ass o’ th’ back o’er the dirt.
l145l		Thou hadst little wit in thy bald crown when thou
l146l		gavest thy golden one away. If I speak like myself in
l147l		this, let him be whipped that first finds it so.
l148l		(Sings)
		> Fools had ne’er less grace in a year,
l149l		For wise men are grown foppish,
l150l		And know not how their wits to wear,
l151l		Their manners are so apish.
l152l	Lear	 When were you wont to be so full of songs, sirrah?
l153l	Fool	I have used it, nuncle, e’er since thou madest thy
l154l		daughters thy mothers# for when thou gavest them the
l155l		rod and puttest down thine own breeches,
l156l		(Sings)
		> Then they for sudden joy did weep,
l157l		And I for sorrow sung,
l158l		That such a king should play bo-peep
l159l		And go the fools among.
l160l		Prithee, nuncle, keep a schoolmaster that can teach
l161l		thy fool to lie. I would fain learn to lie.
l162l	Lear	An you lie, sirrah, we’ll have you whipped.
l163l	Fool	I marvel what kin thou and thy daughters are.
l164l		They’ll have me whipped for speaking true, thou’lt
l165l		have me whipped for lying, and sometimes I am
l166l		whipped for holding my peace. I had rather be any
l167l		kind o’ thing than a fool# and yet I would not be thee,
l168l		nuncle. Thou hast pared thy wit o’ both sides and left
l169l		nothing i’ th’ middle.
		(Enter Goneril)
l170l		Here comes one o’ the parings.
l171l	Lear	 How now, daughter? What makes that frontlet on?
l172l		You are too much of late i’ th’ frown.
l173l	Fool	 Thou wast a pretty fellow when thou hadst no need
l174l		to care for her frowning. Now thou art an 0 without
l175l		a figure. I am better than thou art, now. I am a fool#
l176l		thou art nothing.
		(To Goneril)
		 Yes, forsooth, I will hold
l177l		my tongue# so your face bids me, though you say
l178l		nothing.
l179l		(Sings)
		> Mum, mum.
l180l		He that keeps nor crust nor crumb,
l181l		Weary of all, shall want some.
l182l		That’s a shelled peascod.
l183l	Goneril	(to Lear)
		 Not only, sir, this your all-licensed fool,
l184l		But other of your insolent retinue
l185l		Do hourly carp and quarrel, breaking forth
l186l		In rank and not-to-be-endurèd riots. Sir,
l187l		I had thought by making this well known unto you
l188l		To have found a safe redress, but now grow fearful,
l189l		By what yourself too late have spoke and done,
l190l		That you protect this course, and put it on
l191l		By your allowance# which if you should, the fault
l192l		Would not scape censure, nor the redresses sleep
l193l		Which in the tender of a wholesome weal
l194l		Might in their working do you that offence,
l195l		Which else were shame, that then necessity
l196l		Will call discreet proceeding.
l197l	Fool	(to Lear)
		 For, you know, nuncle,
l198l		(Sings)
		> The hedge-sparrow fed the cuckoo so long
l199l		That it’s had it head bit off by it young#
l200l		so out went the candle, and we were left darkling.
l201l	Lear	(to Goneril)
		 Are you our daughter?
l202l	Goneril	I would you would make use of your good wisdom,
l203l		Whereof I know you are fraught, and put away
l204l		These dispositions which of late transport you
l205l		From what you rightly are.
l206l	Fool	 May not an ass know when the cart draws the
l207l		horse?
		(Sings)
		 “Whoop, jug, I love thee!”
l208l	Lear	 Does any here know me? This is not Lear.
l209l		Does Lear walk thus, speak thus? Where are his eyes?
l210l		Either his notion weakens, his discernings
l211l		Are lethargied—ha, waking? ’Tis not so.
l212l		Who is it that can tell me who I am?
l213l	Fool	 Lear’s shadow.
l214l	Lear	(to Goneril)
		 Your name, fair gentlewoman?
l215l	Goneril	This admiration, sir, is much o’ th’ savour
l216l		Of other your new pranks. I do beseech you
l217l		To understand my purposes aright,
l218l		As you are old and reverend, should be wise.
l219l		Here do you keep a hundred knights and squires,
l220l		Men so disordered, so debauched and bold
l221l		That this our court, infected with their manners,
l222l		Shows like a riotous inn. Epicurism and lust
l223l		Makes it more like a tavern or a brothel
l224l		Than a graced palace. The shame itself doth speak
l225l		For instant remedy. Be then desired,
l226l		By her that else will take the thing she begs,
l227l		A little to disquantity your train,
l228l		And the remainders that shall still depend
l229l		To be such men as may besort your age,
l230l		Which know themselves and you.
	Lear	Darkness and devils!
l231l		Saddle my horses, call my train together!—
		(Exit one or more)
l232l		Degenerate bastard, I’ll not trouble thee.
l233l		Yet have I left a daughter.
l234l	Goneril	You strike my people, and your disordered rabble
l235l		Make servants of their betters.
		(Enter the Duke of Albany)
		
	Lear	 Woe that too late repents!
l236l		Is it your will? Speak, sir.—Prepare my horses.
		(Exit one or more)
l237l		Ingratitude, thou marble-hearted fiend,
l238l		More hideous when thou show’st thee in a child
l239l		Than the sea-monster—
l240l	Albany	Pray sir, be patient.
l241l	Lear	(to Goneril)
		 Detested kite, thou liest.
l242l		My train are men of choice and rarest parts,
l243l		That all particulars of duty know,
l244l		And in the most exact regard support
l245l		The worships of their name. O most small fault,
l246l		How ugly didst thou in Cordelia show,
l247l		Which, like an engine, wrenched my frame of nature
l248l		From the fixed place, drew from my heart all love,
l249l		And added to the gall! O Lear, Lear, Lear!
l250l		Beat at this gate that let thy folly in
l251l		And thy dear judgement out.—Go, go, my people!
l252l	Albany	My lord, I am guiltless, as I am ignorant
l253l		Of what hath moved you.
	Lear	It may be so, my lord.
l254l		Hear, nature# hear, dear goddess, hear:
l255l		Suspend thy purpose if thou didst intend
l256l		To make this creature fruitful.
l257l		Into her womb convey sterility.
l258l		Dry up in her the organs of increase,
l259l		And from her derogate body never spring
l260l		A babe to honour her. If she must teem,
l261l		Create her child of spleen, that it may live
l262l		And be a thwart disnatured torment to her.
l263l		Let it stamp wrinkles in her brow of youth,
l264l		With cadent tears fret channels in her cheeks,
l265l		Turn all her mother’s pains and benefits
l266l		To laughter and contempt, that she may feel—
l267l		That she may feel
l268l		How sharper than a serpent’s tooth it is
l269l		To have a thankless child. Away, away!
		(Exeunt Lear, Kent, and attendants)
l270l	Albany	 Now, gods that we adore, whereof comes this?
l271l	Goneril	Never afflict yourself to know more of it,
l272l		But let his disposition have that scope
l273l		As dotage gives it.
		(Enter King Lear)
l274l	Lear	 What, fifty of my followers at a clap?
l275l		Within a fortnight?
	Albany	What’s the matter, sir?
l276l	Lear	I’ll tell thee.
		(To Goneril)
		 Life and death! I am ashamed
l277l		That thou hast power to shake my manhood thus,
l278l		That these hot tears, which break from me perforce,
l279l		Should make thee worth them. Blasts and fogs upon thee!
l280l		Th’ untented woundings of a father’s curse
l281l		Pierce every sense about thee! Old fond eyes,
l282l		Beweep this cause again I’ll pluck ye out
l283l		And cast you, with the waters that you loose,
l284l		To temper clay. Ha! Let it be so.
l285l		I have another daughter
l286l		Who, I am sure, is kind and comfortable.
l287l		When she shall hear this of thee, with her nails
l288l		She’ll flay thy wolvish visage. Thou shalt find
l289l		That I’ll resume the shape which thou dost think
l290l		I have cast off for ever.
		(Exit)
		
	Goneril	 Do you mark that?
l291l	Albany	I cannot be so partial, Goneril,
l292l		To the great love I bear you—
l293l	Goneril	Pray you, content. What, Oswald, ho!—
l294l		You, sir, more knave than fool, after your master.
l295l	Fool	Nuncle Lear, nuncle Lear,
l296l		Tarry, take the fool with thee.
l297l		A fox when one has caught her,
l298l		And such a daughter,
l299l		Should sure to the slaughter,
l300l		If my cap would buy a halter.
l301l		So, the fool follows after.
		(Exit)
l302l	Goneril	 This man hath had good counsel—a hundred knights?
l303l		’Tis politic and safe to let him keep
l304l		At point a hundred knights, yes, that on every dream,
l305l		Each buzz, each fancy, each complaint, dislike,
l306l		He may enguard his dotage with their powers
l307l		And hold our lives in mercy.—Oswald, I say!
l308l	Albany	Well, you may fear too far.
	Goneril	Safer than trust too far.
l309l		Let me still take away the harms I fear,
l310l		Not fear still to be taken. I know his heart.
l311l		What he hath uttered I have writ my sister.
l312l		If she sustain him and his hundred knights
l313l		When I have showed th’ unfitness—
		(Enter Oswald the steward)
		 How now, Oswald?
l314l		What, have you writ that letter to my sister?
l315l	Oswald	Ay, madam.
l316l	Goneril	Take you some company, and away to horse.
l317l		Inform her full of my particular fear,
l318l		And thereto add such reasons of your own
l319l		As may compact it more. Get you gone,
l320l		And hasten your return.
		(Exit Oswald)
		 No, no, my lord,
l321l		This milky gentleness and course of yours,
l322l		Though I condemn not, yet under pardon
l323l		You are much more attasked for want of wisdom
l324l		Than praised for harmful mildness.
l325l	Albany	How far your eyes may pierce I cannot tell.
l326l		Striving to better, oft we mar what’s well.
l327l	Goneril	Nay, then—
l328l	Albany	Well, well, th’ event.
		(Exeunt)