He that keeps nor crust nor crum,
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
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
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
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 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
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?
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
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
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,
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
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 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
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,
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,
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
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
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!
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,
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
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
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
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
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,
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,
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
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,
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
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 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
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:
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,
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:
Striving to better, oft we mar what’s well.
GONERIL Nay, then–
ALBANY Well, well; the event.
Exeunt
Scene 5
Court before the same.
Enter KING LEAR, KENT, and Fool
KING LEAR Go you before to Gloucester with these letters.
Acquaint my daughter no further with any thing you
know than comes from her demand out of the letter.
If your diligence be not speedy, I shall be there afore you.
KENT I will not sleep, my lord, till I have delivered
your letter.
Exit
Fool If a man’s brains were in’s heels, were’t not in
danger of kibes?
KING LEAR Ay, boy.
Fool Then, I prithee, be merry; thy wit shall ne’er go
slip-shod.
KING LEAR Ha, ha, ha!
Fool Shalt see thy other daughter will use thee kindly;
for though she’s as like this as a crab’s like an
apple, yet I can tell what I can tell.
KING LEAR Why, what canst thou tell, my boy?
Fool She will taste as like this as a crab does to a
crab. Thou canst tell why one’s nose stands i’
the middle on’s face?
KING LEAR No.
Fool Why, to keep one’s eyes of either side’s nose; that
what a man cannot smell out, he may spy into.
KING LEAR I did her wrong–
Fool Canst tell how an oyster makes his shell?
KING LEAR No.
Fool Nor I neither; but I can tell why a snail has a house.
KING LEAR Why?
Fool Why, to put his head in; not to give it away to his
daughters, and leave his horns without a case.
KING LEAR I will forget my nature. So kind a father! Be my
horses ready?
Fool Thy asses are gone about ’em. The reason why the