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FOOL    Nuncle, give me an egg and I’ll give thee two

crowns.

LEAR    What two crowns134 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 clovest136 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 myself140 in this, let him be whipped that first finds it so:

Sings

Fools had ne’er less grace141 in a year,

For wise men are grown foppish142

And know not how their wits to wear,

Their manners are so apish144.

LEAR    When were you wont to be so full of songs, sirrah?

FOOL    I have used it146, nuncle, e’er since thou mad’st thy

daughters thy mothers: for when thou gav’st them the rod147

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-peep151

And go the fool among152.

Prithee, nuncle, keep a schoolmaster that can teach thy fool

to lie: I would fain154 learn to lie.

LEAR    An155 you lie, sirrah, we’ll have you whipped.

FOOL    I marvel156 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 pared160 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 frontlet163 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 figure166.

I am better than thou art now: I am a fool, thou art

To Goneril

nothing.— Yes, forsooth168, I will hold my tongue, so

your face bids me, though you say nothing.

Sings

Mum, mum,

He that keeps nor crust nor crumb171,

Weary of all, shall want some172.

Points to Lear

That’s a shelled peascod173.

GONERIL    Not only, sir, this your all-licensed174 fool,

But other of your insolent retinue

Do hourly carp176 and quarrel, breaking forth

In rank177 and not-to-be endured riots, sir.

I had thought by making this well known unto you

To have found a safe179 redress, but now grow fearful,

By what yourself too late180 have spoke and done.

That you protect this course and put it on181

By your allowance, which if you should, the fault

Would not scape censure, nor the redresses sleep183

Which in the tender of a wholesome weal184

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 cuckoo189 so long,

That it’s had it head bit off by it young190.

So, out went the candle, and we were left darkling191.

To Goneril

LEAR    Are you our daughter?

GONERIL    I would you would make use of your good wisdom —

Whereof I know you are fraught194 — and put away

These dispositions195 which of late transport you

From what you rightly are.

FOOL    May not an ass know when the cart draws the horse?

Whoop, Jug198! 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 discernings201

Are lethargied — Ha! Waking?202 ’Tis not so?

Who is it that can tell me who I am?

FOOL    Lear’s shadow204.

LEAR    Your name, fair gentlewoman?

GONERIL    This admiration, sir, is much o’th’savour206

Of other your new pranks. I do beseech you

To understand my purposes aright:

As you are old and reverend, should209 be wise.

Here do you keep a hundred knights and squires,

Men so disordered, so debauched and bold211,

That this our court, infected with their manners,

Shows like a riotous inn: epicurism213 and lust

Makes it more like a tavern or a brothel

Than a graced palace. The shame itself doth speak215

For instant remedy. Be then desired216

By her, that else will take the thing she begs,

A little to disquantity your train218,

And the remainders, that shall still depend219

To be such men as may besort220 your age,

Which know themselves and you221.

LEAR    Darkness and devils!—

To a Servant

Saddle my horses, call my train together.—

To Goneril

Degenerate224 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 that228 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 kite234, thou liest.

My train are men of choice and rarest parts235,

That all particulars of duty know

And in the most exact regard support237

The worships of their name. O, most small fault,

How ugly didst thou in Cordelia show!

Which, like an engine240, wrenched my frame of nature

From the fixed place, drew from my heart all love,

And added to the gall242. 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 moved246 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 fruitfuclass="underline"

Into her womb convey sterility,

Dry up in her the organs of increase252,

And from her derogate253 body never spring

A babe to honour her: if she must teem254,

Create her child of spleen255, that it may live

And be a thwart disnatured256 torment to her:

Let it stamp wrinkles in her brow of youth,

With cadent tears fret258 channels in her cheeks,

Turn all her mother’s pains and benefits259

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?