King Lear

him: and at my entreaty forbear his presence till some little time hath qualified the heat of his displeasure; which at this instant so rageth in him, that with the mischief of your person it would scarcely allay. Edgar Some villain hath done me wrong. Edmund That’s my fear. I pray you, have a continent forbearance till the spied of his rage goes slower; and, as I say, retire with me to my lodging, from whence I will fitly bring you to hear my lord speak: pray ye, go; there’s my key: if you do stir abroad, go armed. Edgar Armed, brother! Edmund Brother, I advise you to the best; go armed: I am no honest man if there be any good meaning towards you: I have told you what I have seen and heard; but faintly, nothing like the image and horror of it: pray you, away. Edgar Shall I hear from you anon? Edmund I do serve you in this business. Exit Edgar. A credulous father! and a brother noble, Whose nature is so far from doing harms, That he suspects none: on whose foolish honesty My practises ride easy! I see the business. Let me, if not by birth, have lands by wit: All with me’s meet that I can fashion fit. Exit.

Scene III

The Duke of Albany’s palace

	Enter Goneril, and Oswald, her steward.
Goneril	Did my father strike my gentleman for chiding of his fool?
Oswald	Yes, madam.
Goneril	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.
Oswald	He’s coming, madam; I hear him. Horns within.
Goneril	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, 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 cheques as flatteries⁠—when they are seen abused. Remember what I tell you.
Oswald	Well, madam.
Goneril	And let his knights have colder looks among you; What grows of it, no matter; advise your fellows so: 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, 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	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, 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 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	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	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	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. 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.
	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 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 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; 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 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.