King Lear

disquietly to our graves. Find out this villain, Edmund: it¹⁰⁴

shall lose thee nothing. Do it carefully.— And the noble and

true-hearted Kent banished! His offence, honesty! ’Tis

strange.

Exit

EDMUND    This is the excellent foppery¹⁰⁸ of the world, that when

we are sick in fortune — often the surfeits¹⁰⁹ of our own

behaviour — we make guilty of our disasters¹¹⁰ the sun, the

moon¹¹¹ and stars, as if we were villains on necessity, fools by

heavenly compulsion, knaves, thieves and treachers¹¹² by

spherical predominance¹¹³, drunkards, liars and adulterers

by an enforced obedience of planetary influence, and all that

we are evil in, by a divine thrusting on: an admirable evasion¹¹⁵

of whoremaster man, to lay his goatish¹¹⁶ disposition on the

charge of a star! My father compounded¹¹⁷ with my mother

under the dragon’s tail and my nativity was under Ursa¹¹⁸

Major, so that it follows I am rough¹¹⁹ and lecherous. I should

have been that I am had the maidenliest¹²⁰ star in the

firmament twinkled on my bastardizing¹²¹.

Enter Edgar

Pat he comes like the catastrophe of the old comedy: my cue¹²²

is villainous melancholy, with a sigh like Tom o’Bedlam¹²³.—

O, these eclipses do portend these divisions! Fa, sol, la, mi¹²⁴.

EDGAR    How now, brother Edmund, what serious

contemplation are you in?

EDMUND    I am thinking, brother, of a prediction I read this¹²⁷

other day, what should follow these eclipses.

EDGAR    Do you busy yourself with that?

EDMUND    I promise you, the effects he writes of succeed¹³⁰

unhappily¹³¹. When saw you my father last?

EDGAR    The night gone by.

EDMUND    Spake you with him?

EDGAR    Ay, two hours together.

EDMUND    Parted you in good terms? Found you no displeasure

in him by word nor countenance¹³⁶?

EDGAR    None at all.

EDMUND    Bethink yourself wherein you may have offended

him, and at my entreaty forbear¹³⁹ his presence until some little

time hath qualified¹⁴⁰ the heat of his displeasure, which at this

instant so rageth in him that with the mischief of your¹⁴¹

person it would scarcely allay¹⁴².

EDGAR    Some villain hath done me wrong.

EDMUND    That’s my fear. I pray you have a continent¹⁴⁴

forbearance till the speed of his rage goes slower: and, as I

say, retire with me to my lodging, from whence I will fitly¹⁴⁶

bring you to hear my lord speak. Pray ye go.

Gives a key

There’s my key: if you do stir abroad¹⁴⁸, go armed.

EDGAR    Armed, brother?

EDMUND    Brother, I advise you to the best: I am no honest

man if there be any good meaning¹⁵¹ toward you: I have told

you what I have seen and heard, but faintly, nothing like the

image and horror¹⁵³ of it. Pray you away.

EDGAR    Shall I hear from you anon¹⁵⁴?

Exit

EDMUND    I do serve¹⁵⁵ you in this business.—

A credulous father and a brother noble,

Whose nature is so far from doing harms

That he suspects none: on whose foolish honesty

My practices¹⁵⁹ ride easy. I see the business.

Let me, if not by birth, have lands by wit¹⁶⁰:

All with me’s meet that I can fashion fit¹⁶¹.

Exit

Act 1 Scene 3

running scene 3

Enter Goneril and Steward [Oswald]

GONERIL    Did my father strike my gentleman for chiding¹ of his

fool?

OSWALD    Ay, madam.

GONERIL    By day and night he wrongs me: every hour

He flashes⁵ into one gross crime or other

That sets us all at odds. I’ll not endure it.

His knights grow riotous, and himself upbraids us

On every trifle. When he returns from hunting

I will not speak with him: say I am sick.

If you come slack¹⁰ of former services

You shall do well: the fault of it I’ll answer¹¹.

Horns within

OSWALD    He’s coming, madam: I hear him.

GONERIL    Put on what weary negligence you please,

You and your fellows: I’d have it come to question¹⁴:

If he distaste¹⁵ it, let him to my sister,

Whose mind and mine, I know, in that are one.

Remember what I have said.

OSWALD    Well, madam.

GONERIL    And let his knights have colder looks among you:

what grows of it, no matter: advise your fellows so. I’ll write

straight to²¹ my sister, to hold my course. Prepare for dinner.

Exeunt

Act 1 Scene 4

running scene 3 continues

Enter Kent

Disguised

KENT    If but as will I¹ other accents borrow,

That can my speech defuse², my good intent

May carry through itself to that full issue³

For which I razed my likeness⁴. Now, banished Kent,

If thou canst serve where thou dost stand condemned,

So may it come thy master whom thou lov’st,

Shall find thee full of labours.

Horns within. Enter Lear and Attendants [his Knights]

LEAR    Let me not stay⁸ a jot for dinner: go get it ready.—

[Exit a Knight]

To Kent

How now, what art thou?

KENT    A man, sir.

LEAR    What dost thou profess? What wouldst thou¹¹ with

us¹²?

KENT    I do profess to be no less than I seem; to serve him