LEAR Now, my friendly knave, I thank thee.

Enter Lear’s Fool

There’s earnest of thy service.

He gives Kent money

FOOL Let me hire him, too. (To Kent) Here’s my coxcomb.

LEAR How now, my pretty knave, how dost thou?

FOOL (to Kent) Sirrah, you were best take my coxcomb.

LEAR Why, my boy?

FOOL Why? For taking one’s part that’s out of favour. (To Kent) Nay, an thou canst not smile as the wind sits, thou’lt 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. (To Lear) 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 off 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 th’ fire and stink.

LEAR A pestilent gall to me!

FOOL ⌈to Kent⌉ Sirrah, I’ll teach thee a speech.

LEAR Do.

FOOL Mark it, nuncle:

Have more than thou showest,

Speak less than thou knowest,

Lend less than thou owest,

Ride more than thou goest,

Learn more than thou trowest,

Set less than thou throwest,

Leave thy drink and thy whore,

And keep in-a-door,

And thou shalt have more

Than two tens to a score.

KENT This is nothing, fool.

FOOL Then ’tis like the breath of an unfee’d lawyer: you gave me nothing for’t. (To Lear) Can you make no use of nothing, nuncle?

LEAR Why no, boy. Nothing can be made out of nothing.

FOOL (to Kent) Prithee, tell him so much the rent of his land comes to. He will not believe a fool.

LEAR A bitter fool.

FOOL Dost know the difference, my boy, between a bitter fool and a sweet one?

LEAR No, lad. Teach me.

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

LEAR What two crowns 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 clovest thy crown i’th’ middle and gavest away both parts, thou borest thine ass o‘th’ 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. ⌈Sings⌉ 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.

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

FOOL I have used it, nuncle, e’er since thou madest thy daughters thy mothers; for when thou gavest them the rod and puttest down thine own breeches, ⌈Sings⌉ 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.

Prithee, nuncle, keep a schoolmaster 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‘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 pared thy wit o’ both sides and left nothing i’th’ middle.

Enter Goneril

Here comes one o’ the parings.

LEAR

How now, daughter? What makes that frontlet 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 figure. I am better than thou art, now. I am a fool; thou art nothing. ⌈To Goneril⌉ Yes, forsooth, I will hold my tongue; so your face bids me, though you say nothing.

⌈Sings⌉ Mum, mum.

He that keeps nor crust nor crumb,

Weary of all, shall want some.

That’s a shelled peascod.

GONERIL (to Lear)

Not only, sir, this your all-licensed 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,

That you protect this course, and put it on

By your allowance; which if you should, the fault

Would not scape censure, nor the redresses sleep

Which in the tender of a wholesome weal

Might in their working do you that offence,

Which else were shame, that then necessity

Will call discreet proceeding.

FOOL (to Lear) For, you know, nuncle,

⌈Sings⌉ The hedge-sparrow fed the cuckoo so long

That it’s had it head bit off by it young;

so out went the candle, and we were left darkling.

LEAR (to Goneril) Are you our daughter?

GONERIL

I would you would make use of your good wisdom,

Whereof I know you are fraught, and put away

These dispositions which of late transport you

From what you rightly are.

FOOL May not an ass know when the cart draws the horse? ⌈Sings⌉ ‘Whoop, jug, 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 discernings

Are lethargied—ha, waking? ’Tis not so.

Who is it that can tell me who I am?

FOOL Lear’s shadow.

LEAR (to Goneril) Your name, fair gentlewoman?

GONERIL

This admiration, sir, is much o’th’ savour

Of other your new pranks. I do beseech you

To understand my purposes aright,

As you are old and reverend, should be wise.

Here do you keep a hundred knights and squires,

Men so disordered, so debauched and bold

That this our court, infected with their manners,

Shows like a riotous inn. Epicurism and lust

Makes it more like a tavern or a brothel

Than a graced palace. The shame itself doth speak

For instant remedy. Be then desired,

By her that else will take the thing she begs,

A little to disquantity your train,

And the remainders that shall still depend