Shows like a riotous inn, epicurism

And lust make more like to a tavern, or brothel,

Than a great palace. The shame itself doth speak

For instant remedy. Be thou desired,

By her that else will take the thing she begs,

A little to disquantity your train,

And the remainder that shall still depend

To be such men as may besort your age,

That know themselves and you.

LEAR Darkness and devils!

Saddle my horses, call my train together!—

⌈Exit one or more⌉

Degenerate bastard, I’ll not trouble thee.

Yet have I left a daughter.

GONORIL

You strike my people, and your disordered rabble

Make servants of their betters.

Enter the Duke of Albany

LEAR

We that too late repent‘s—O sir, are you come?

Is it your will that we—prepare my horses.

⌈Exit one or more⌉

Ingratitude, thou marble-hearted fiend,

More hideous when thou show’st thee in a child

Than the sea-monster—(to Gonoril) detested kite, thou

liest.

My train are men of choice and rarest parts,

That all particulars of duty know,

And in the most exact regard support

The worships of their name. O most small fault,

How ugly didst thou in Cordelia show,

That, like an engine, wrenched my frame of nature

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

And added to the gall! O Lear, Lear!

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.

LEAR

It may be so, my lord. Hark, nature, hear:

Dear goddess, suspend thy purpose if

Thou didst intend to make this creature fruitful.

Into her womb convey sterility.

Dry up in her the organs of increase,

And from her derogate body never spring

A babe to honour her. If she must teem,

Create her child of spleen, that it may live

And be a thwart disnatured torment to her.

Let it stamp wrinkles in her brow of youth,

With cadent tears fret channels in her cheeks,

Turn all her mother’s pains and benefits

To laughter and contempt, that she may feel—

That she may feel

How sharper than a serpent’s tooth it is

To have a thankless child.—Go, go, my people!

Exeunt Lear, ⌈Kent, Fool, and servants⌉

ALBANY

Now, gods that we adore, whereof comes this?

GONORIL

Never afflict yourself to know the cause,

But let his disposition have that scope

That dotage gives it.

Enter King Lear ⌈and his Fool⌉

LEAR

What, fifty of my followers at a clap?

Within a fortnight?

ALBANY What is the matter, sir?

LEAR

I’ll tell thee. (To Gonoril) Life and death! I am

ashamed

That thou hast power to shake my manhood thus,

That these hot tears, that break from me perforce

And should make thee—worst blasts and fogs upon

thee!

Untented woundings of a father’s curse

Pierce every sense about thee! Old fond eyes,

Beweep this cause again I’ll pluck you out

And cast you, with the waters that you make,

To temper clay. Yea,

Is’t come to this? Yet have I left a daughter

Whom, I am sure, is kind and comfortable.

When she shall hear this of thee, with her nails

She’ll flay thy wolvish visage. Thou shalt find

That I’ll resume the shape which thou dost think

I have cast off for ever; thou shalt, I warrant thee.

Exit

GONORIL Do you mark that, my lord?

ALBANY

I cannot be so partial, Gonoril,

To the great love I bear you—

GONORIL Come, sir, no more.—

You, more knave than fool, after your master!

FOOL Nuncle Lear, nuncle Lear, tarry, and take the fool with thee.

A fox when one has caught her,

And such a daughter,

Should sure to the slaughter,

If my cap would buy a halter.

So, the fool follows after.

Exit

GONORIL What, Oswald, ho!

Enter Oswald

OSWALD Here, madam.

GONORIL

What, have you writ this letter to my sister?

OSWALD Yes, madam.

GONORIL

Take you some company, and away to horse.

Inform her full of my particular fears,

And thereto add such reasons of your own

As may compact it more. Get you gone,

And after, your retinue.

Exit Oswald

Now, my lord,

This milky gentleness and course of yours,

Though I dislike not, yet under pardon

You’re much more ataxed for want of wisdom

Than praised for harmful mildness.

ALBANY

How far your eyes may pierce I cannot tell.

Striving to better aught, we mar what’s well.

GONORIL Nay, then—

ALBANY Well, well, the event. Exeunt

Sc. 5 Enter King Lear, the Earl of Kent disguised, and Lear’s Fool

LEAR ⌈to Kent⌉ Go you before to Gloucester with these letters. Acquaint my daughter no further with anything you know than comes from her demand out of the letter. If your diligence be not speedy, I shall be there before you.

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

Exit

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

LEAR Ay, boy.

FOOL Then, I prithee, be merry: thy wit shall ne’er go slipshod.