verse with him that is wise, and says little; to fear judgment; to fight when I cannot choose, and to eat no fish.

Kent. A very honest-hearted fellow, and as poor as the king. Lear. If thou be as poor for a subject, as he is for a king, thou art poor enough. What wouldest thou?

Kent.
Lear.

Service.

Whom wouldest thou serve?

Kent. You.

Lear. Dost thou know me, fellow?

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

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.

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.

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.

Enter Oswald.

You, you, sirrah, where 's my daughter?

Osw. So please you,

[Exit.

Lear. What says the fellow there? Call the clod-pole back. Where's my fool, ho?- I think the world's asleep..

where 's that mongrel?

How now!

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

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.

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.

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 farther 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.

Lear. No more of that; I have noted it well.

Go you, and tell my daughter I would speak with her. Go you, call hither my

fool.

Re-enter OsWALD.

O! you Sir, you Sir, come you hither. Who am I, Sir?
Osw. My lady's father.

Laer. My lady's father! my lord's knave: you whoreson dog! you slave! you cur!

Osw. I am none of these, my lord; I beseech your pardon.
Lear. Do you bandy looks with me, you rascal?

Osw. I'll not be struck, my lord.

[Striking him.

Kent. Nor tripped neither, you base foot-ball player.

[Tripping up his Heels. Lear. I thank thee, fellow; thou servest me, and I'll love thee.

Kent. 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. Now, my friendly knave, earnest of thy service.

[Pushes OSWALD out.

I thank thee: there's

[Giving KENT Money.

Enter Fool.

Fool. Let me hire him too:

- here's my coxcomb.

[Giving KENT his Cap.

Lear. How now, my pretty knave! how dost thou?
Fool. Sirrah, you were best take my coxcomb.

Lear. Why, my boy?

Fool. Why? For taking one's part that's out of favour. Nay, an thou canst not smile as the wind sits, thou 'It 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. now, nuncle! Would I had two coxcombs, and two daughters! Lear. Why, my boy?

How

Fool. If I gave them all my living, I'd keep my coxcombs myself. There's mine; beg another of thy daughters.

Lear. Take heed, sirrah; the whip.

Fool. Truth's a dog must to kennel: he must be whipped out, when the lady brach may stand by the fire and stink.

Lear. A pestilent gall to me.

Fool. Sirrah, I'll teach thee a speech.

Lear. This is nothing, fool.

Fool. Then, 't is like the breath of an unfee'd lawyer; you gave me nothing for 't. Can you make no use of nothing, nuncle? Lear. Why, no, boy; nothing can be made out of nothing.

Fool. Pr'ythee, 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. 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. 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 I had a monopoly out, they would have part on 't, and loads 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.

Lear. What two crowns shall they be?

Fool. 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 thine ass on thy back o'er the dirt: thou hadst little wit in thy bald crown, when thou gavest thy golden one away. If I speak like myself in this, let him be whipped that first finds it so.

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.

[Singing.

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 the rod and putt'st down thine own breeches,

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.

[Singing.

Pr'ythee, nuncle, keep a school-master that can teach thy fool to lie: I would fain learn to lie.

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 'It 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' the parings.

Enter GONEril.

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 figure. I am better than thou art now: I am a fool; thou art nothing. Yes, forsooth, I will hold my tongue! so your face [To GoN.] bids me, though you say nothing. Mum, mum:

He that keeps nor crust nor crum,

Weary of all, shall want some.

That's a shealed peascod.

Gon. 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-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,