A Hall in the Duke of Albany's Palace.
 Enter KENT, disguised.

Kent	If but as well I other accents borrow
	That can my speech defuse, my good intent
	May carry through itself to that full issue
	For which I razed my likeness. Now, banished Kent,
	If thou canst serve where thou dost stand condemned,
	So may it come thy master, whom thou lov'st,
	Shall find thee full of labours.

                              Horns within.
                 Enter KING LEAR, with KNIGHTS attending.

Lear	Let me not stay a jot for dinner. Go, get it ready.
												[Exit a KNIGHT.
	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'st as poor for a subject as he's 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?

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 anything. I have years 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.
												[Exit a KNIGHT.
                              Enter OSWALD.

	You! You, sirrah, where's my daughter?

Oswald	So please you.
												[Exit.
Lear	What says the fellow there? Call the clotpoll back.
												[Exit a KNIGHT.
	Where's my Fool, ho? I think the world's asleep.

                             Re-enter KNIGHT.

	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 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. 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, sayst 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 wronged.

Lear	Thou but rememb'rest 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 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.
												[Exit a KNIGHT.
	Go you, call hither my Fool.
												[Exit a KNIGHT.
                             Re-enter OSWALD.

	O, you sir, you! Come you hither, sir.
	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 these, my lord, I beseech your pardon.

Lear	Do you bandy looks with me, you rascal?
												[Striking him.
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.

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.
												[Pushing OSWALD 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.
												[Offering 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's 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 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!

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 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.

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

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 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.

Lear	A bitter Fool!

Fool	Dost thou know the difference, my boy, between a bitter 
	fool and a sweet one?

Lear	No, lad; teach me.

Fool	That lord that counselled 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.

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 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 
	crowns i'th'middle and gavest away 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.]	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, sirrah?

Fool	I have used it, Nuncle, ere since thou madest thy daughters 
	thy mothers; for when thou gav'st them the rod and putt'st 
	down thine own breeches,

	[Sings.]	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.

	Prithee, Nuncle, keep a schoolmaster that can teach thy 
	Fool to lie; I would fain learn to lie.

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 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? 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, 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.
	[Pointing to LEAR.] 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-endurd 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 was shame, that then necessity
	Will call discreet proceeding.

Fool	For you know, Nuncle,
		The hedge-sparrow fed the cuckoo so long,
		That it's had it head bit off by it young.
	So, out went the candle and we were left darkling.

Lear	Are you our daughter?

Goneril	I would you would make use of your good wisdom,
	Whereof I know you are fraught, and put away
	These dispositions which of late transport you
	From what you rightly are.

Fool	May not an ass know when a cart draws the horse?
	Whoop, Jug, I love thee.

Lear	Does any here know me? This is not Lear.
	Does Lear walk thus, speak thus? Where are his eyes?
	Either his notion weakens, his discernings
	Are lethargied-Ha, waking? 'Tis not so.
	Who is it that can tell me who I am?

Fool	Lear's shadow.

Lear	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?

Goneril	This admiration, sir, is much o'th'savour
	Of other your new pranks. I do beseech you
	To understand my purposes aright.
	As you are old and reverend, should be wise.
	Here do you keep a hundred knights and squires;
	Men so disordered, so deboshed and bold,
	That this our court, infected with their manners,
	Shows like a riotous inn. Epicurism and lust
	Makes it more like a tavern or a brothel
	Than a graced 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 remainders that shall still depend
	To be such men as may besort your age,
	Which 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.

Goneril	You strike my people, and your disordered rabble
	Make servants of their betters.

                              Enter ALBANY.

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

Albany							Pray, sir, be patient.

Lear	[To GONERIL.] 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, wrenched my frame of nature
	From the fixed place, drew from my heart all love,
	And added to the gall. O Lear, Lear, Lear!
												[Striking his head.
	Beat at this gate that let thy folly in
	And thy dear judgment out! Go, go, my people.
												[Exeunt KENT and KNIGHTS.

Albany	My lord, I am guiltless as I am ignorant
	Of what hath moved 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 disnatured 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!
												[Exit.
Albany	Now, gods that we adore, whereof comes this?

Goneril	Never afflict yourself to know more of it;
	But let his disposition have that scope
	As dotage gives it.

                              Re-enter LEAR.

Lear	What, fifty of my followers at a clap!
	Within a fortnight!

Albany							What's the matter, sir?

Lear	I'll tell thee. [To GONERIL.] Life and death! I am ashamed
	That thou hast power to shake my manhood thus,
	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 ye out
	And cast you, with the waters that you loose,
	To temper clay. Yea, is't come to this?
	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 wolvish visage. Thou shalt find
	That I'll resume the shape which thou dost think
	I have cast off for ever.
												[Exit.
Goneril									Do you mark that?

Albany	I cannot be so partial, Goneril,
	To the great love I bear you-

Goneril	Pray you, content. What, Oswald, ho!
	[To FOOL.]
	You, sir, more knave than fool, after your master.

Fool	Nuncle Lear, Nuncle Lear, tarry; 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.
Goneril	This man hath had good counsel! A hundred knights!
	'Tis politic and safe to let him keep
	At point a hundred knights; yes, that on every dream,
	Each buzz, each fancy, each complaint, dislike,
	He may enguard his dotage with their powers,
	And hold our lives in mercy.-Oswald, I say!

Albany	Well, you may fear too far.

Goneril								Safer than trust too far.
	Let me still take away the harms I fear,
	Not fear still to be taken. I know his heart.
	What he hath uttered I have writ my sister;
	If she sustain him and his hundred knights
	When I have showed th'unfitness-

                             Re-enter OSWALD.

										How now, Oswald!
	What, have you writ that letter to my sister?

Oswald	Ay, madam.

Goneril	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 OSWALD.
								No, no, my lord,
	This milky gentleness and course of yours,
	Though I condemn not, yet, under pardon,
	You are much more at task for want of wisdom
	Than praised for harmful mildness.

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

Goneril	Nay, then-

Albany	Well, well; th'event.
												[Exeunt.
