TPTT The Tragedy of King Lear: ACT I
Introduction
ACT I
SCENE I. King Lear's palace.
SCENE II. The Earl of Gloucester's castle.
SCENE III. The Duke of Albany's palace.
SCENE IV. A hall in the same.
SCENE V. Court before the same.
ACT II
ACT III
ACT IV
ACT V
About the Play
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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,
5     If thou canst serve where thou dost stand condemn'd,
      So may it come, thy master, whom thou lovest,
      Shall find thee full of labours.
Horns within. Enter KING LEAR, Knights, and Attendants
KING LEAR
      Let me not stay a jot for dinner; go get it ready.

Exit an Attendant

      How now! what art thou?
KENT
10    A man, sir.
KING 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,
15    and says little; to fear judgment; to fight when I
      cannot choose; and to eat no fish.
KING LEAR
      What art thou?
KENT
      A very honest-hearted fellow, and as poor as the king.
KING LEAR
      If thou be as poor for a subject as he is for a
20    king, thou art poor enough. What wouldst thou?
KENT
      Service.
KING LEAR
      Who wouldst thou serve?
KENT
      You.
KING LEAR
      Dost thou know me, fellow?
KENT
25    No, sir; but you have that in your countenance
      which I would fain call master.
KING LEAR
      What's that?
KENT
      Authority.
KING LEAR
      What services canst thou do?
KENT
30    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.
KING LEAR
      How old art thou?
KENT
35    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.
KING LEAR
      Follow me; thou shalt serve me: if I like thee no
      worse after dinner, I will not part from thee yet.
40    Dinner, ho, dinner! Where's my knave? my fool?
      Go you, and call my fool hither.

Exit an Attendant

Enter OSWALD

      You, you, sirrah, where's my daughter?
OSWALD
      So please you,--
Exit
KING LEAR
      What says the fellow there? Call the clotpoll back.

Exit a Knight

45    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.
KING LEAR
      Why came not the slave back to me when I called him.
Knight
      Sir, he answered me in the roundest manner, he would
50    not.
KING 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
55    great abatement of kindness appears as well in the
      general dependants as in the duke himself also and
      your daughter.
KING LEAR
      Ha! sayest thou so?
Knight
      I beseech you, pardon me, my lord, if I be mistaken;
60    for my duty cannot be silent when I think your
      highness wronged.
KING 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
65    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.
KING LEAR
70    No more of that; I have noted it well. Go you, and
      tell my daughter I would speak with 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?
OSWALD
75    My lady's father.
KING LEAR
      'My lady's father'! my lord's knave: your
      whoreson dog! you slave! you cur!
OSWALD
      I am none of these, my lord; I beseech your pardon.
KING LEAR
      Do you bandy looks with me, you rascal?
Striking him
OSWALD
80    I'll not be struck, my lord.
KENT
      Nor tripped neither, you base football player.
Tripping up his heels
KING LEAR
      I thank thee, fellow; thou servest me, and I'll
      love thee.
KENT
      Come, sir, arise, away! I'll teach you differences:
85    away, away! if you will measure your lubber's
      length again, tarry: but away! go to; have you
      wisdom? so.
Pushes OSWALD out
KING LEAR
      Now, my friendly knave, I thank thee: there's
      earnest of thy service.
Giving KENT money
Enter Fool
Fool
90    Let me hire him too: here's my coxcomb.
Offering KENT his cap
KING 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:
95    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.
100   How now, nuncle! Would I had two coxcombs and two daughters!
KING LEAR
      Why, my boy?
Fool
      If I gave them all my living, I'ld keep my coxcombs
      myself. There's mine; beg another of thy daughters.
KING LEAR
      Take heed, sirrah; the whip.
Fool
105   Truth's a dog must to kennel; he must be whipped
      out, when Lady the brach may stand by the fire and stink.
KING LEAR
      A pestilent gall to me!
Fool
      Sirrah, I'll teach thee a speech.
KING LEAR
      Do.
Fool
110   Mark it, nuncle:
      Have more than thou showest,
      Speak less than thou knowest,
      Lend less than thou owest,
      Ride more than thou goest,
115   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
120   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?
KING LEAR
125   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.
KING LEAR
      A bitter fool!
Fool
      Dost thou know the difference, my boy, between a
130   bitter fool and a sweet fool?
KING LEAR
      No, lad; teach me.
Fool
      That lord that counsell'd thee
      To give away thy land,
      Come place him here by me,
135   Do thou for him stand:
      The sweet and bitter fool
      Will presently appear;
      The one in motley here,
      The other found out there.
KING LEAR
140   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
145   I had a monopoly out, they would have part on't:
      and ladies too, they will not let me have all fool
      to myself; they'll be snatching. Give me an egg,
      nuncle, and I'll give thee two crowns.
KING LEAR
      What two crowns shall they be?
Fool
150   Why, after I have cut the egg i' the middle, and eat
      up the meat, the two crowns of the egg. When thou
      clovest thy crown i' the middle, and gavest away
      both parts, thou borest thy ass on thy back o'er
      the dirt: thou hadst little wit in thy bald crown,
155   when thou gavest thy golden one away. If I speak
      like myself in this, let him be whipped that first
      finds it so.

Singing

      Fools had ne'er less wit in a year;
      For wise men are grown foppish,
160   They know not how their wits to wear,
      Their manners are so apish.
KING LEAR
      When were you wont to be so full of songs, sirrah?
Fool
      I have used it, nuncle, ever since thou madest thy
      daughters thy mothers: for when thou gavest them
165   the rod, and put'st down thine own breeches,

Singing

      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.
170   Prithee, nuncle, keep a schoolmaster that can teach
      thy fool to lie: I would fain learn to lie.
KING 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
175   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' the middle: here comes one o'
180   the parings.
Enter GONERIL
KING LEAR
      How now, daughter! what makes that frontlet on?
      Methinks you are too much of late i' the frown.
Fool
      Thou wast a pretty fellow when thou hadst no need to
      care for her frowning; now thou art an O without a
185   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 crum,
190   Weary of all, shall want some.

Pointing to KING LEAR

      That's a shealed peascod.
GONERIL
      Not only, sir, this your all-licensed fool,
      But other of your insolent retinue
      Do hourly carp and quarrel; breaking forth
195   In rank and not-to-be endured 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
200   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 were shame, that then necessity
205   Will call discreet proceeding.
Fool
      For, you trow, 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.
KING LEAR
210   Are you our daughter?
GONERIL
      Come, sir,
      I would you would make use of that good wisdom,
      Whereof I know you are fraught; and put away
      These dispositions, that of late transform you
215   From what you rightly are.
Fool
      May not an ass know when the cart
      draws the horse? Whoop, Jug! I love thee.
KING LEAR
      Doth any here know me? This is not Lear:
      Doth Lear walk thus? speak thus? Where are his eyes?
220   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.
KING LEAR
      I would learn that; for, by the
225   marks of sovereignty, knowledge, and reason,
      I should be false persuaded I had daughters.
Fool
      Which they will make an obedient father.
KING LEAR
      Your name, fair gentlewoman?
GONERIL
      This admiration, sir, is much o' the savour
230   Of other your new pranks. I do beseech you
      To understand my purposes aright:
      As you are old and reverend, you should be wise.
      Here do you keep a hundred knights and squires;
      Men so disorder'd, so debosh'd and bold,
235   That this our court, infected with their manners,
      Shows like a riotous inn: epicurism and lust
      Make it more like a tavern or a brothel
      Than a graced palace. The shame itself doth speak
      For instant remedy: be then desired
240   By her, that else will take the thing she begs,
      A little to disquantity your train;
      And the remainder, that shall still depend,
      To be such men as may besort your age,
      And know themselves and you.
KING LEAR
245   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 disorder'd rabble
250   Make servants of their betters.
Enter ALBANY
KING LEAR
      Woe, that too late repents,--

To ALBANY

      O, sir, are you come?
      Is it your will? Speak, sir. Prepare my horses.
      Ingratitude, thou marble-hearted fiend,
255   More hideous when thou show'st thee in a child
      Than the sea-monster!
ALBANY
      Pray, sir, be patient.
KING LEAR
      (To GONERIL) Detested kite! thou liest.
      My train are men of choice and rarest parts,
260   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!
      That, like an engine, wrench'd my frame of nature
265   From the fix'd place; drew from heart all love,
      And added to the gall. O Lear, Lear, Lear!
      Beat at this gate, that let thy folly in,

Striking his head

      And thy dear judgment out! Go, go, my people.
ALBANY
      My lord, I am guiltless, as I am ignorant
270   Of what hath moved you.
KING 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!
275   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,
280   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
285   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 the cause;
      But let his disposition have that scope
290   That dotage gives it.
Re-enter KING LEAR
KING LEAR
      What, fifty of my followers at a clap!
      Within a fortnight!
ALBANY
      What's the matter, sir?
KING LEAR
      I'll tell thee:

To GONERIL

295   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!
      The untented woundings of a father's curse
300   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 lose,
      To temper clay. Yea, it is come to this?
      Let is be so: yet have I left a daughter,
305   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: thou shalt,
310   I warrant thee.
Exeunt KING LEAR, KENT, and Attendants
GONERIL
      Do you mark that, my lord?
ALBANY
      I cannot be so partial, Goneril,
      To the great love I bear you,--
GONERIL
      Pray you, content. What, Oswald, ho!

To the Fool

315   You, sir, more knave than fool, after your master.
Fool
      Nuncle Lear, nuncle Lear, tarry and take the fool
      with thee.
      A fox, when one has caught her,
      And such a daughter,
320   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
325   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
330   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 utter'd I have writ my sister
      If she sustain him and his hundred knights
335   When I have show'd the unfitness,--

Re-enter OSWALD

      How now, Oswald!
      What, have you writ that letter to my sister?
OSWALD
      Yes, madam.
GONERIL
      Take you some company, and away to horse:
340   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,
345   This milky gentleness and course of yours
      Though I condemn not, yet, under pardon,
      You are much more attask'd for want of wisdom
      Than praised for harmful mildness.
ALBANY
      How far your eyes may pierce I can not tell:
350   Striving to better, oft we mar what's well.
GONERIL
      Nay, then--
ALBANY
      Well, well; the event.
Exeunt
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