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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. Lear. What says the fellow there? Call the clotpoll back.-Where's my fool, ho?-I think the world's asleep.-How now? Where's that mongrel?
Knight. He says, my lord, your daughter is not well.
Lear. Why came not the slave back to me, when I call'd him?
Knight. Sir, he answer'd 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 entertain'd 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! say’st 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 is wrong'd.
Lear. Thou but remember'st 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 pur
pose 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.
Lear. No more of that; I have noted it well. — Go
you, and tell my daughter I would speak with her.-Go you,
O, you sir, you sir, come you hither: Who am I, sir?
Stew. My lady's father.
Lear. My lady's father! my lord's knave: you whoreson dog! you
cur! Stew. I am none of this, my lord; I beseech
you, pardon me. Lear. Do you bandy looks with me, you rascal?
(striking him. Stew. I'll not be struck, my lord.
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.
[Pushes the Steward out. Lear. Now, my friendly knave, I thank thee: there's earnest of thy service.
[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. Kent. Why, fool?
Fool. Why? For taking one's part that is out of favour: Nay, an thou canst not smile as the wind sits, thou'lt catch cold shortly: There, take my coxcomb: Why, this fellow has banish'd two of his 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. Why, my boy?
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 that must to kennel; he must be whipp'd out, when Lady, the brach, may stand by the fire and stink.
Lear. A pestilent gall to me!
llave more than thou showest,
Learn more than thou trowest,
Than two tens to a score.
Fool. 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. Why, no, boy; nothing can be made out of nothing
Fool. Pry'thee, tell him, so much the rent of his land comes to; he will not believe a fool.
[To Kent. Lear. A bitter fool!
Fool. Dost thou know the difference, my boy, between a bitter fool and a sweet fool?
Lear. No, lad; teach me.
To give away thy land,
Or do thou for him stand:
Will presently appear;
The other found out there.
Fool. All thy other titles thou hast given away; that thou wast born with.
Kent. This is not altogether fool, my lord.
let me; if I had a monopoly out, they would have part on't: and ladies 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
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 oyer the dirt: Thou had'st little wit in thy bald crown, when thou gavest thy golden one away. If I speak like myself in this, let him be whipp'd that first finds it so,
Fools had ne'er less grace in a year;
For wise men are grown foppish;
Their manners are so apish.
Lear. When were you wont to be so full of
Fool. I have used it, nuncle, ever since thou madest thy daughters thy mother: for when thou gavest them the rod, and put’st down thine own breeches,
Then they for sudden joy did weep,
And I for sorrow sung,
And go the fools among.