Lear. Whom would'st thou serve? Kent. You. Lear. Dost thou know me, fellow? Kent. No, sir; but you have that in 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 any thing; I have years on my back forty-eight. Lear. Follow me; 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. thou [Exit an Attendant. Enter OSWALD. You, you, sirrah, where's my daughter? [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 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 daughter. and your 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 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 this two days. Knight. Since my young |