KENT I will not sleep, my lord, till I have delivered your letter. Exit

FOOL If a man’s brains were in’s heels, were’t not in danger of kibes?

LEAR Ay, boy.

FOOL Then, I prithee, be merry: thy wit shall not go slipshod.

LEAR Ha, ha, ha!

FOOL Shalt see thy other daughter will use thee kindly, for though she’s as like this as a crab’s like an apple, yet I can tell what I can tell.

LEAR What canst tell, boy?

FOOL She will taste as like this as a crab does to a crab. Thou canst tell why one’s nose stands i’th’ middle on ’s face?

LEAR No.

FOOL Why, to keep one’s eyes of either side ’s nose, that what a man cannot smell out, a may spy into.

LEAR I did her wrong.

FOOL Canst tell how an oyster makes his shell?

LEAR No.

FOOL Nor I neither; but I can tell why a snail has a house.

LEAR Why?

FOOL Why, to put ’s head in, not to give it away to his daughters and leave his horns without a case.

LEAR

I will forget my nature. So kind a father!

Be my horses ready?

FOOL Thy asses are gone about ’em. The reason why the seven stars are no more than seven is a pretty reason.

LEAR Because they are not eight.

FOOL Yes, indeed, thou wouldst make a good fool.

LEAR

To take’t again perforce—monster ingratitude!

FOOL If thou wert my fool, nuncle, I’d have thee beaten for being old before thy time.

LEAR How’s that?

FOOL Thou shouldst not have been old till thou hadst been wise.

LEAR

O, let me not be mad, not mad, sweet heaven!

Keep me in temper. I would not be mad.

⌈Enter the First Gentleman⌉

How now, are the horses ready?

⌈FIRST⌉ GENTLEMAN Ready, my lord.

LEAR (to Fool) Come, boy.

⌈Exeunt Lear and Gentleman⌉

FOOL

She that’s a maid now, and laughs at my departure,

Shall not be a maid long, unless things be cut shorter.

⌈Exit⌉

2.1 Enter Edmond the bastard, and Curan, severally EDMOND Save thee, Curan.

CURAN And you, sir. I have been with your father, and given him notice that the Duke of Cornwall and Regan his duchess will be here with him this night.

EDMOND How comes that? CURAN Nay, I know not. You have heard of the news abroad?—I mean the whispered ones, for they are yet but ear-kissing arguments.

EDMOND Not I. Pray you, what are they?

CURAN Have you heard of no likely wars toward twixt the Dukes of Cornwall and Albany?

EDMOND Not a word.

CURAN You may do then in time. Fare you well, sir.

Exit

EDMOND

The Duke be here tonight! The better, best.

This weaves itself perforce into my business.

⌈Enter Edgar at a window above⌉

My father hath set guard to take my brother,

And I have one thing of a queasy question

Which I must act. Briefness and fortune work!—

Brother, a word, descend. Brother, I say.

⌈Edgar climbs down⌉

My father watches. O sir, fly this place.

Intelligence is given where you are hid.

You have now the good advantage of the night.

Have you not spoken ‘gainst the Duke of Cornwall?

He’s coming hither, now, i’th’ night, i‘th’ haste,

And Regan with him. Have you nothing said

Upon his party ’gainst the Duke of Albany?

Advise yourself.

EDGAR

I am sure on’t, not a word.

EDMOND

I hear my father coming. Pardon me.

In cunning I must draw my sword upon you.

Draw. Seem to defend yourself. Now, quit you well.

(Calling) Yield, come before my father. Light ho, here!

(To Edgar) Fly, brother! (Calling) Torches, torches!

(To Edgar) So, farewell.

Exit Edgar

Some blood drawn on me would beget opinion

Of my more fierce endeavour.

He wounds his arm

I have seen drunkards

Do more than this in sport. (Calling) Father, father!

Stop, stop! Ho, help!

Enter the Duke of Gloucester, and servants with torches

GLOUCESTER

Now, Edmond, where’s the villain?

EDMOND

Here stood he in the dark, his sharp sword out,

Mumbling of wicked charms, conjuring the moon

To stand ’s auspicious mistress.

GLOUCESTER

But where is he?

EDMOND

Look, sir, I bleed.

GLOUCESTER

Where is the villain, Edmond?

EDMOND

Fled this way, sir, when by no means he could—

GLOUCESTER

Pursue him, ho! Go after.

Exeunt servants

By no means what?

EDMOND

Persuade me to the murder of your lordship,

But that I told him the revenging gods

‘Gainst parricides did all the thunder bend,

Spoke with how manifold and strong a bond

The child was bound to th’ father. Sir, in fine,

Seeing how loathly opposite I stood

To his unnatural purpose, in fell motion

With his prepared sword he charges home

My unprovided body, latched mine arm;

And when he saw my best alarumed spirits

Bold in the quarrel’s right, roused to th’encounter,

Or whether ghasted by the noise I made,

Full suddenly he fled.

GLOUCESTER

Let him fly far,

Not in this land shall he remain uncaught,

And found, dispatch. The noble Duke my master,

My worthy arch and patron, comes tonight.

By his authority I will proclaim it

That he which finds him shall deserve our thanks,

Bringing the murderous coward to the stake;

He that conceals him, death.

EDMOND

When I dissuaded him from his intent

And found him pitched to do it, with curst speech

I threatened to discover him. He replied,

‘Thou unpossessing bastard, dost thou think

If I would stand against thee, would the reposal

Of any trust, virtue, or worth in thee

Make thy words faithed? No, what I should deny—

As this I would, ay, though thou didst produce

My very character—I’d turn it all

To thy suggestion, plot, and damned practice,

And thou must make a dullard of the world