King Lear: I, Scene 4

Kent

1 - 7

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 raz’d my likeness. Now, banish’d Kent,
If thou canst serve where thou dost stand condemn’d,
So may it come, thy master, whom thou lov’st,
Shall find thee full of labors.

Lear

8 - 9

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.

Lear

11

What dost thou profess? What wouldst thou with us?

Kent

12 - 15

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.

Lear

16

What art thou?

Kent

17

A very honest-hearted fellow, and as poor as the King.

Lear

18 - 19

If thou be’st as poor for a subject as he’s for a king, th’
art poor enough. What wouldst thou?

Kent

20

Service.

Lear

21

Who wouldst thou serve?

Kent

22

You.

Lear

23

Dost thou know me, fellow?

Kent

24 - 25

No, sir, but you have that in your countenance which I would
fain call master.

Lear

26

What’s that?

Kent

27

Authority.

Lear

28

What services canst do?

Kent

29 - 32

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

33

How old art thou?

Kent

34 - 36

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

37 - 41

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 Steward Oswald.
You, you, sirrah, where’s my daughter?

Oswald

42

So please you—

Lear

43 - 45

What says the fellow there? Call the clotpole back.
Exit a Knight.
Where’s my Fool? Ho! I think the world’s asleep.
Enter Knight.
How now? Where’s that mongrel?

Knight

46

He says, my lord, your daughter is not well.

Lear

47

Why came not the slave back to me when I call’d him?

Knight

48

Sir, he answer’d me in the roundest manner, he would not.

Lear

49

He would not?

Knight

50 - 54

My lord, I know not what the matter is, but to my judgment
your Highness is not entertain’d with that ceremonious
affection as you were wont. There’s a great abatement of
kindness appears as well in the general dependents as in the
Duke himself also, and your daughter.

Lear

55

Ha? Say’st thou so?

Knight

56 - 57

I beseech you pardon me, my lord, if I be mistaken, for my
duty cannot be silent when I think your Highness wrong’d.

Lear

58 - 62

Thou but rememb’rest me of mine own conception. I have
perceiv’d a most faint neglect of late, which I have rather
blam’d as mine own jealous curiosity than as a very pretense
and purpose of unkindness. I will look further into’t. But
where’s my Fool? I have not seen him this two days.

Knight

63 - 64

Since my young lady’s going into France, sir, the Fool hath
much pin’d away.

Lear

65 - 68

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 another Attendant.
Enter Steward Oswald.
O, you, sir, you, come you hither, sir. Who am I, sir?

Oswald

69

My lady’s father.

Lear

70 - 71

“My lady’s father”? My lord’s knave! You whoreson dog, you
slave, you cur!

Oswald

72

I am none of these, my lord, I beseech your pardon.

Lear

73

Do you bandy looks with me, you rascal?

Oswald

74

I’ll not be strucken, my lord.

Kent

75

Nor tripp’d neither, you base football player.

Lear

76

I thank thee, fellow. Thou serv’st me, and I’ll love thee.

Kent

77 - 79

Come, sir, arise, away! I’ll teach you differences. Away,
away! If you will measure your lubber’s length again, tarry;
but away! Go to, have you wisdom? So.

Lear

80 - 81

Now, my friendly knave, I thank thee, there’s earnest of thy
service.

Fool

82

Let me hire him too, here’s my coxcomb.

Lear

83

How now, my pretty knave, how dost thou?

Fool

84

Sirrah, you were best take my coxcomb.

Kent

85

Why, Fool?

Fool

86 - 92

Why? For taking one’s part that’s out of favor. Nay, and
thou canst not smile as the wind sits, thou’lt catch cold
shortly. There, take my coxcomb. Why, this fellow has
banish’d two on ’s daughters, and did the third a blessing
against his will; if thou follow him, thou must needs wear
my coxcomb.—How now, nuncle? Would I had two coxcombs and
two daughters!

Lear

93

Why, my boy?

Fool

94 - 95

If I gave them all my living, I’ld keep my coxcombs myself.
There’s mine, beg another of thy daughters.

Lear

96

Take heed, sirrah—the whip.

Fool

97 - 98

Truth’s a dog must to kennel, he must be whipt out, when the
Lady Brach may stand by th’ fire and stink.

Lear

99

A pestilent gall to me!

Fool

100

Sirrah, I’ll teach thee a speech.

Lear

101

Do.

Fool

102 - 112

Mark it, nuncle:
Have more than thou showest,
Speak less than thou knowest,
Lend less than thou owest,
Ride more than thou goest,
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
Than two tens to a score.

Kent

113

This is nothing, Fool.

Fool

114 - 115

Then ’tis like the breath of an unfee’d lawyer, you gave me
nothing for’t. Can you make no use of nothing, nuncle?

Lear

116

Why, no, boy, nothing can be made out of nothing.

Fool

117 - 118

To Kent.
Prithee tell him, so much the rent of his land comes to. He
will not believe a fool.

Lear

119

A bitter fool!

Fool

120 - 121

Dost thou know the difference, my boy, between a bitter fool
and a sweet one?

Lear

122

No, lad, teach me.

Fool

123 - 130

That lord that counsell’d thee
To give away thy land,
Come place him here by me,
Do thou for him stand.
The sweet and bitter fool
Will presently appear:
The one in motley here,
The other found out there.

Lear

131

Dost thou call me fool, boy?

Fool

132 - 133

All thy other titles thou hast given away, that thou wast
born with.

Kent

134

This is not altogether fool, my lord.

Fool

135 - 139

No, faith, lords and great men will not let me; if I had a
monopoly out, they would have part an’t. And ladies too,
they will not let me have all the fool to myself, they’ll be
snatching. Nuncle, give me an egg, and I’ll give thee two
crowns.

Lear

140

What two crowns shall they be?

Fool

141 - 151

Why, after I have cut the egg i’ th’ middle and eat up the
meat, the two crowns of the egg. When thou clovest thy crown
i’ th’ middle and gav’st away both parts, thou bor’st thine
ass on thy back o’er the dirt. Thou hadst little wit in thy
bald crown when thou gav’st thy golden one away. If I speak
like myself in this, let him be whipt that first finds it
so.
Sings.
“Fools had ne’er less grace in a year,
For wise men are grown foppish,
And know not how their wits to wear,
Their manners are so apish.”

Lear

152

When were you wont to be so full of songs, sirrah?

Fool

153 - 160

I have us’d it, nuncle, e’er since thou mad’st thy daughters
thy mothers, for when thou gav’st them the rod, and put’st
down thine own breeches,
Sings.
“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.”
Prithee, nuncle, keep a schoolmaster that can teach thy Fool to lie—I would fain learn to lie.

Lear

161

And you lie, sirrah, we’ll have you whipt.

Fool

162 - 167

I marvel what kin thou and thy daughters are. They’ll have
me whipt for speaking true; thou’lt have me whipt for lying;
and sometimes I am whipt 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 par’d thy wit o’ both sides, and
left nothing i’ th’ middle. Here comes one o’ the parings.

Lear

168 - 169

How now, daughter? What makes that frontlet on? You are too
much of late i’ th’ frown.

Fool

170 - 178

Thou wast a pretty fellow when thou hadst no need to care
for her frowning, now thou art an O without a 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 crumb,
Weary of all, shall want some.
Pointing to Lear.
That’s a sheal’d peascod.

Goneril

179 - 192

Not only, sir, this your all-licens’d Fool,
But other of your insolent retinue
Do hourly carp and quarrel, breaking forth
In rank and not-to-be-endur’d 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 offense,
Which else were shame, that then necessity
Will call discreet proceeding.

Fool

193 - 196

For you know, nuncle,
“The hedge-sparrow fed the cuckoo so long,
That it had it head bit off by it young.”
So out went the candle, and we were left darkling.

Lear

197

Are you our daughter?

Goneril

198 - 201

I would you would make use of your good wisdom
(Whereof I know you are fraught) and put away
These dispositions which of late transport you
From what you rightly are.

Fool

202 - 203

May not an ass know when the cart draws the horse?
Sings.
“Whoop, Jug! I love thee.”

Lear

204 - 208

Does any here know me? This is not Lear.
Does 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

209

Lear’s shadow.

Lear

210 - 212

I would learn that, for by the marks of sovereignty,
Knowledge, and reason, I should be false persuaded
I had daughters.

Fool

213

Which they will make an obedient father.

Lear

214

Your name, fair gentlewoman?

Goneril

215 - 230

This admiration, sir, is much o’ th’ savor
Of other your new pranks. I do beseech you
To understand my purposes aright,
As you are old and reverend, 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
Makes it more like a tavern or a brothel
Than a grac’d palace. The shame itself doth speak
For instant remedy. Be then desir’d
By her, that else will take the thing she begs,
A little to disquantity your train,
And the remainders that shall still depend,
To be such men as may besort your age,
Which know themselves and you.

Lear

231 - 234

Darkness and devils!
Saddle my horses; call my train together!
Degenerate bastard, I’ll not trouble thee;
Yet have I left a daughter.

Goneril

235 - 236

You strike my people,
And your disorder’d rabble make servants of their betters.

Lear

237 - 241

Woe, that too late repents!—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

242

Pray, sir, be patient.

Lear

243 - 253

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!
Which, like an engine, wrench’d my frame of nature
From the fix’d place; drew from my 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.
Exeunt Knights and Kent.

Albany

254 - 255

My lord, I am guiltless as I am ignorant
Of what hath moved you.

Lear

256 - 271

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 honor her! If she must teem,
Create her child of spleen, that it may live
And be a thwart disnatur’d 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!

Albany

272

Now, gods that we adore, whereof comes this?

Goneril

273 - 275

Never afflict yourself to know more of it,
But let his disposition have that scope
As dotage gives it.

Lear

276 - 277

What, fifty of my followers at a clap?
Within a fortnight?

Albany

278

What’s the matter, sir?

Lear

279 - 294

I’ll tell thee.
To Goneril.
Life and death! I am asham’d
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!
Th’ 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 loose,
To temper clay. Yea, is’t come to this?
Ha? Let it be so: I have another daughter,
Who I am sure is kind and comfortable.
When she shall hear this of thee, with her nails
She’ll flea thy wolvish visage. Thou shalt find
That I’ll resume the shape which thou dost think
I have cast off forever.

Goneril

295

Do you mark that?

Albany

296 - 297

I cannot be so partial, Goneril,
To the great love I bear you—

Goneril

298 - 299

Pray you, content.—What, Oswald, ho!
To the Fool.
You, sir, more knave than fool, after your master.

Fool

300 - 305

Nuncle Lear, nuncle Lear, tarry, 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.

Goneril

306 - 311

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 pow’rs,
And hold our lives in mercy.—Oswald, I say!

Albany

312

Well, you may fear too far.

Goneril

313 - 320

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 th’ unfitness—
Enter Steward Oswald.
How now, Oswald?
What, have you writ that letter to my sister?

Oswald

321

Ay, madam.

Goneril

322 - 331

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 attax’d for want of wisdom
Than prais’d for harmful mildness.

Albany

332 - 333

How far your eyes may pierce I cannot tell:
Striving to better, oft we mar what’s well.

Goneril

334

Nay then—

Albany

335

Well, well, th’ event.

King LearAct I, Scene 4

A hall in the Duke of Albany’s palace.

Kent

Lear

Kent

Lear

Kent

Lear

Kent

Lear

Kent

Lear

Kent

Lear

Kent

Lear

Kent

Lear

Kent

Lear

Kent

Lear

Oswald

Lear

Knight

Lear

Knight

Lear

Knight

Lear

Knight

Lear

Knight

Lear

Oswald

Lear

Oswald

Lear

Oswald

Kent

Lear

Kent

Lear

Fool

Lear

Fool

Kent

Fool

Lear

Fool

Lear

Fool

Lear

Fool

Lear

Fool

Kent

Fool

Lear

Fool

Lear

Fool

Lear

Fool

Lear

Fool

Kent

Fool

Lear

Fool

Lear

Fool

Lear

Fool

Lear

Fool

Goneril

Fool

Lear

Goneril

King Lear
Act I, Scene 4