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| SCENE III. The Duke of Albany's palace. |
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Enter GONERIL, and OSWALD, her steward
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| GONERIL |
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Did my father strike my gentleman for chiding of his fool?
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| OSWALD |
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Yes, madam.
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| GONERIL |
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By day and night he wrongs me; every hour
He flashes into one gross crime or other,
5 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,
10 You shall do well; the fault of it I'll answer.
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| OSWALD |
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He's coming, madam; I hear him.
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Horns within
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| GONERIL |
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Put on what weary negligence you please,
You and your fellows; I'll have it come to question:
If he dislike it, let him to our sister,
15 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
20 With cheques as flatteries,--when they are seen abused.
Remember what I tell you.
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| OSWALD |
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Well, madam.
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| GONERIL |
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And let his knights have colder looks among you;
What grows of it, no matter; advise your fellows so:
25 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.
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Exeunt
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