SCENE III - The Duke of Albany's palace 10 Enter GONERIL, and OSWALD, her steward Gon. Did my father strike my gentleman for chiding of his fool? Osw. Yes, 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. Osw. He's coming, madam; I hear him. [Horns within. Gon. Put on what weary negligence you please, You and your fellows; I'ld have it come to question : If he dislike it, let him to our sister, Whose mind and mine, I know, in that are one, Not to be over-ruled. 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 used With checks as flatteries, when they are seen abused. Remember what I tell you. Osw. Well, madam. Gon. And let his knights have colder looks among you; What grows of it, no matter; advise your fellows so: 20 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. [Exeunt. SCENE IV – A hall in the same 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, banish'd Kent, demn'd, and Attendants Lear. Let me not stay a jot for dinner; go get it ready. (Exit an Attendant.] How now! what art thou ? 10 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 judgement; to fight when I cannot choose; and to eat no fish. Lear. What art thou ? Kent. A very honest-hearted fellow, and as 20 poor as the king. 30 Lear. If thou be as poor for a subject as he is for a king, thou art poor enough. What wouldst thou? Kent Service. Kent. No, sir; but you have that in your countenance which I would fain call master. Lear. What's that? 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 40 singing, nor so old to dote on her for anything : I have years on my back forty-eight. Lear. Follow me; thou shalt serve I like thee no worse after dinner, I will not part from thee yet. Dinner, ho, dinner! Where's my knave? my fool? fool? Go you, and call my fool hither. [Exit an Attendant. Enter OSWALD [Exit. Lear. What says the fellow there? Call the 50 clotpoll back. [Exit a Knight.] Where 's my fool, ho? I think the world's asleep. me: if Re-enter Knight 60 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 judgement, 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 70 I think your highness 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 pur pose 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 80 her. (Exit an Attendant.] Go you, call hither my fool. [Exit an Attendant. Re-enter OSWALD O, you sir, you, come you hither, sir: who am I, sir? Osw. My lady's father. Lear. “My lady's father”! my lord's knave: you whoreson dog! you slave! you cur ! Osw. I am none of these, my lord; I beseech 90 your pardon. Lear. Do you bandy looks with me, you rascal? [Striking him. Osw. 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 100 your lubber's length again, tarry: but away! go to; have you wisdom? so. [Pushes 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? 110 |