Authors: William Shakespeare
To Lear
FOOL
Then ’tis like the breath of an
unfee’d
122
lawyer: you gave me nothing for’t.— Can you make no
use
123
of nothing, nuncle?
LEAR
Why, no, boy: nothing can be made out of nothing.
To Kent
FOOL
Prithee tell him, so much the rent of his land
comes to: he will not believe a fool.
LEAR
A bitter fool!
FOOL
Dost thou know the difference, my boy, between a
bitter fool and a sweet one?
LEAR
No, lad, teach me.
FOOL
Nuncle, give me an egg and I’ll give thee two
crowns.
LEAR
What two
crowns
134
shall they be?
FOOL
Why, after I have cut the egg i’th’middle and eat up
the
meat
, the two crowns of the egg. When thou
clovest
136
thy
crowns 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
140
in this, let him be whipped that first finds it so:
Sings
Fools had ne’er less
grace
141
in a year,
For wise men are grown
foppish
142
And know not how their wits to wear,
Their manners are so
apish
144
.
LEAR
When were you wont to be so full of songs, sirrah?
FOOL
I have
used it
146
, nuncle, e’er since thou mad’st thy
daughters thy mothers: for when thou gav’st them the
rod
147
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
151
And go
the fool among
152
.
Prithee, nuncle, keep a schoolmaster that can teach thy fool
to lie: I would
fain
154
learn to lie.
LEAR
An
155
you lie, sirrah, we’ll have you whipped.
FOOL
I
marvel
156
what kin thou and thy daughters are:
they’ll have me whipped for speaking true, thou’lt 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
160
thy wit
o’both sides and left nothing i’th’middle. Here comes one
o’the parings.
Enter Goneril
LEAR
How now, daughter? What makes that
frontlet
163
on?
You are too much of late i’th’frown.
FOOL
Thou wast a pretty fellow when thou hadst no need
to care for her frowning: now thou art an O without a
figure
166
.
I am better than thou art now: I am a fool, thou art
To Goneril
nothing.— Yes,
forsooth
168
, I will hold my tongue, so
your face bids me, though you say nothing.
Sings
Points to Lear
That’s a shelled
peascod
173
.
GONERIL
Not only, sir, this your
all-licensed
174
fool,
But other of your insolent retinue
Do hourly
carp
176
and quarrel, breaking forth
In
rank
177
and not-to-be endured riots, sir.
I had thought by making this well known unto you
To have found a
safe
179
redress, but now grow fearful,
By what yourself
too late
180
have spoke and done.
That you protect this
course
and
put it on
181
By your allowance, which if you should, the fault
Would not
scape
censure, nor the
redresses sleep
183
Which
in the tender of a wholesome weal
184
Might in their working do you that offence,
Which else were shame, that then necessity
Will call discreet proceeding.
FOOL
For you know, nuncle,
The hedge-sparrow fed the
cuckoo
189
so long,
That
it’s had it
head bit off by
it young
190
.
So, out went the candle, and we were left
darkling
191
.
To Goneril
LEAR
Are you our daughter?
GONERIL
I would you would make use of your good wisdom —
Whereof I know you are
fraught
194
— and put away
These
dispositions
195
which of late transport you
From what you rightly are.
FOOL
May not an ass know when the cart draws the horse?
Whoop,
Jug
198
! I love thee.
LEAR
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
201
Are lethargied — Ha!
Waking?
202
’Tis not so?
Who is it that can tell me who I am?
FOOL
Lear’s
shadow
204
.
LEAR
Your name, fair gentlewoman?
GONERIL
This
admiration
, sir, is much
o’th’savour
206
Of other your new pranks. I do beseech you
To understand my purposes aright:
As you are old and reverend,
should
209
be wise.
Here do you keep a hundred knights and squires,
Men so disordered, so debauched and
bold
211
,
That this our court, infected with their manners,
Shows like a riotous inn:
epicurism
213
and lust
Makes it more like a tavern or a brothel
Than a
graced
palace. The shame itself doth
speak
215
For instant remedy. Be then
desired
216
By her, that else will take the thing she begs,
A little to
disquantity your train
218
,
And the remainders, that shall still
depend
219
To be such men as may
besort
220
your age,
Which
know themselves and you
221
.
LEAR
Darkness and devils!—
To a Servant
Saddle my horses, call my train together.—
To Goneril
Degenerate
224
bastard! I’ll not trouble thee.
Yet have I left a daughter.
GONERIL
You strike my people, and your disordered rabble
Make servants of their betters.
Enter Albany
To Albany
LEAR
Woe
that
228
too late repents!— Is it your will?
To a Servant
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.
To Goneril
LEAR
Detested
kite
234
, thou liest.
My train are men of choice and
rarest parts
235
,
That all particulars of duty know
And
in the most exact regard support
237
The worships of their name. O, most small fault,
How ugly didst thou in Cordelia show!
Which, like an
engine
240
, wrenched my frame of nature
From the fixed place, drew from my heart all love,
And added to the
gall
242
. O Lear, Lear, Lear!
Hits his head
Beat at this gate, that let thy folly in,
And thy dear judgement out!— Go, go, my people.
ALBANY
My lord, I am guiltless as I am ignorant
Of what hath
moved
246
you.
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
252
,
And from her
derogate
253
body never spring
A babe to honour her: if she must
teem
254
,
Create her child of
spleen
255
, that it may live
And be a
thwart
disnatured
256
torment to her:
Let it stamp wrinkles in her brow of youth,
With
cadent
tears
fret
258
channels in her cheeks,
Turn all her mother’s
pains
and
benefits
259
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
Perhaps with Kent and Knights
ALBANY
Now, gods that we adore, whereof comes this?
GONERIL
Never afflict yourself to know more of it,
But let his disposition have that scope
As
dotage
266
gives it.
Enter Lear
To Goneril
LEAR
I’ll tell thee:— Life and death! I am ashamed
That thou hast power to shake my manhood thus,
That these hot tears, which break from me
perforce
272
,
Should make thee worth them.
Blasts
273
and fogs upon thee!
Th’untented
274
woundings of a father’s curse
Pierce every sense about thee! Old
fond
275
eyes,
Beweep this cause again, I’ll pluck ye out
And cast you, with the
waters that you loose
277
,
To
temper
clay
278
. Ha? Let it be so.
I have another daughter,
Who, I am sure, is
kind
and
comfortable
280
:
When she shall hear this of thee, with her nails
She’ll flay thy wolvish
visage
282
. Thou shalt find
That I’ll resume the shape which thou dost think
I have cast off for ever.
Exeunt
[
Lear, perhaps with Kent and Knights
]
GONERIL
Do you mark that?
ALBANY
I cannot be so
partial
286
, Goneril,
To the great love I bear you—
GONERIL
Pray you,
content
288
.— What, Oswald, ho!—
To Fool
You, sir, more knave than fool, after your master.
FOOL
Nuncle Lear, nuncle Lear, tarry, take the fool with
thee.
Sings
A fox, when one has caught her,
And such a daughter
Should sure to the slaughter,
If my cap would buy a
halter
295
:
So the fool follows after.
Exit
GONERIL
This man hath had good counsel. A hundred knights?
’Tis
politic
298
and safe to let him keep
At point
a hundred knights: yes,
that
299
on every dream,
Each
buzz
, each
fancy
300
, each complaint, dislike,
He may
enguard
301
his dotage with their powers
And hold our lives
in
302
mercy.— Oswald, I say!
ALBANY
Well, you may fear too far.
GONERIL
Safer than trust too far:
Let me
still
305
take away the harms I fear,
Not fear still to be
taken
306
. I know his heart.
What he hath uttered I have writ my sister:
If she sustain him and his hundred knights
When I have showed th’unfitness—
Enter Steward [Oswald]
How now, Oswald?
What, have you writ that letter to my sister?
OSWALD
Ay, 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
315
it more. Get you gone,
And hasten your return.—