King Lear

LEAR    O, how this mother²⁴⁴ swells up toward my heart!

Hysterica passio²⁴⁵, down, thou climbing sorrow:

Thy element’s below²⁴⁶!— Where is this daughter?

KENT    With the earl, sir, here within.

LEAR    Follow me not: stay here.

Exit

GENTLEMAN    Made you no more offence but what you speak of?

KENT    None. How chance the king comes with so small a

number?

FOOL    An thou had’st been set i’th’stocks for that

question, thou’dst well deserved it.

KENT    Why, fool?

FOOL    We’ll set thee to school to an ant to teach thee²⁵⁵

there’s no labouring i’th’winter. All that follow their noses

are led by their eyes but blind men, and there’s not a nose

among twenty but can smell him that’s stinking²⁵⁸. Let go thy

hold when a great wheel runs down a hill lest it break thy

neck with following: but the great one that goes upward, let

him draw thee after. When a wise man gives thee better

counsel, give me mine again²⁶²: I would have none but knaves

follow it, since a fool gives it.

Sings

    That sir²⁶⁴ which serves and seeks for gain,

    And follows but for form²⁶⁵,

    Will pack²⁶⁶ when it begins to rain,

    And leave thee in the storm.

    But I will tarry, the fool will stay,

    And let the wise man fly:

    The knave turns fool that runs away,

    The fool no knave, perdy²⁷¹.

Enter Lear and Gloucester

KENT    Where learned you this, fool?

FOOL    Not i’th’stocks, fool.

LEAR    Deny²⁷⁴ to speak with me? They are sick, they are weary,

They have travelled all the night? Mere fetches²⁷⁵,

The images of revolt and flying off²⁷⁶.

Fetch me a better answer.

GLOUCESTER    My dear lord,

You know the fiery quality of the duke,

How unremovable and fixed he is

In his own course.

LEAR    Vengeance, plague, death, confusion²⁸²!

Fiery? What quality? Why, Gloucester, Gloucester,

I’d speak with the Duke of Cornwall and his wife.

GLOUCESTER    Well, my good lord, I have informed them so.

LEAR    Informed them? Dost thou understand me, man?

GLOUCESTER    Ay, my good lord.

LEAR    The king would speak with Cornwall: the dear father

Would with his daughter speak, commands, tends²⁸⁹, service.

Are they informed of this? My breath and blood!

Fiery? The fiery duke? Tell the hot duke that —

No, but not yet: maybe he is not well.

Infirmity doth still neglect all office²⁹³

Whereto our health is bound: we are not ourselves

When nature, being oppressed²⁹⁵, commands the mind

To suffer with the body. I’ll forbear,

And am fallen out with my more headier will²⁹⁷,

To take the indisposed and sickly fit

Sees Kent

For the sound man. Death on my state²⁹⁹! Wherefore

Should he sit here? This act persuades me

That this remotion³⁰¹ of the duke and her

Is practice only. Give me my servant forth³⁰².

Go tell the duke and’s³⁰³ wife I’d speak with them,

Now, presently: bid them come forth and hear me,

Or at their chamber-door I’ll beat the drum

Till it cry sleep to death.

GLOUCESTER    I would have all well betwixt you.

Exit

LEAR    O me, my heart, my rising heart! But, down!

FOOL    Cry to it, nuncle, as the cockney³⁰⁹ did to the eels when

she put ’em i’th’paste alive: she knapped ’em o’th’coxcombs³¹⁰

with a stick and cried ‘Down, wantons³¹¹, down!’ ’Twas her

brother that, in pure kindness to his horse, buttered his hay³¹².

Enter Cornwall, Regan, Gloucester, Servants

LEAR    Good morrow to you both.

CORNWALL    Hail to your grace!

Kent here set at liberty

REGAN    I am glad to see your highness.

LEAR    Regan, I think you are. I know what reason

I have to think so: if thou shouldst not be glad,

I would divorce me from thy mother’s tomb,

To Kent

Sepulch’ring an adult’ress³¹⁹.— O, are you free?

Some other time for that.— Belovèd Regan,

Thy sister’s naught³²¹: O Regan, she hath tied

Sharp-toothed unkindness, like a vulture³²², here.

Points to his heart

I can scarce speak to thee. Thou’lt not believe

With how depraved a quality — O Regan!

REGAN I pray you, sir, take patience: I have hope

You less know how to value her desert³²⁶

Than she to scant her duty.

LEAR    Say? How is that?

REGAN    I cannot think my sister in the least

Would fail her obligation: if, sir, perchance

She have restrained the riots of your followers,

’Tis on such ground and to such wholesome end

As clears her from all blame.

LEAR    My curses on her!

REGAN    O, sir, you are old:

Nature in you stands on the very verge³³⁶

Of her confine: you should be ruled and led

By some discretion that discerns your state³³⁸

Better than you yourself. Therefore, I pray you,

That to our sister you do make return:

Say you have wronged her.

LEAR    Ask her forgiveness?

Do you but mark how this becomes the house³⁴³:

Dear daughter, I confess that I am old;

Kneels

Age is unnecessary³⁴⁵. On my knees I beg

That you’ll vouchsafe me raiment³⁴⁶, bed and food.

REGAN    Good sir, no more: these are unsightly tricks:

Return you to my sister.

Rises

LEAR    Never, Regan:

She hath abated³⁵⁰ me of half my train,