Scene IV. A Hall in Albany's Palace.
[Enter Kent, disguised.]
KENT.
If but as well I other accents borrow,
That can my speech defuse, my good intent
May carry through itself to that full issue
For which I rais'd my likeness. — Now, banish'd Kent,
If thou canst serve where thou dost stand condemn'd,
So may it come, thy master, whom thou lov'st,
Shall find thee full of labours.
[Horns within. Enter King Lear, Knights, and Attendants.]
LEAR.
Let me not stay a jot for dinner; go get it ready.
[Exit an Attendant.]
How now! what art thou?
KENT.
A man, sir.
LEAR.
What dost thou profess? What wouldst thou with us?
KENT.
I do profess to be no less than I seem; to serve him truly that
will put me in trust; to love him that is honest; to converse
with him that is wise and says little; to fear judgment; to fight
when I cannot choose; and to eat no fish.
LEAR.
What art thou?
KENT.
A very honest-hearted fellow, and as poor as the king.
LEAR.
If thou be'st as poor for a subject as he's for a king, thou art
poor enough. What wouldst thou?
KENT.
Service.
LEAR.
Who wouldst thou serve?
KENT.
You.
LEAR.
Dost thou know me, fellow?
KENT.
No, sir; but you have that in your countenance which I would fain
call master.
LEAR.
What's that?
KENT.
Authority.
LEAR.
What services canst thou do?
KENT.
I can keep honest counsel, ride, run, mar a curious tale in
telling it and deliver a plain message bluntly. That which
ordinary men are fit for, I am qualified in, and the best of
me is diligence.
LEAR.
How old art thou?
KENT.
Not so young, sir, to love a woman for singing; nor so old to
dote on her for anything: I have years on my back forty-eight.
LEAR.
Follow me; thou shalt serve me. If I like thee no worse after
dinner, I will not part from thee yet. — Dinner, ho, dinner! —
Where's my knave? my fool? — Go you and call my fool hither.
[Exit an attendant.]
[Enter Oswald.]
You, you, sirrah, where's my daughter?
OSWALD.
So please you, —
[Exit.]
LEAR.
What says the fellow there? Call the clotpoll back. —
[Exit a Knight.]
Where's my fool, ho? — I think the world's asleep.
[Re-enter Knight.]
How now! where's that mongrel?
KNIGHT.
He says, my lord, your daughter is not well.
LEAR.
Why came not the slave back to me when I called him?
KNIGHT.
Sir, he answered me in the roundest manner, he would not.
LEAR.
He would not!
KNIGHT.
My lord, I know not what the matter is; but to my judgment your
highness is not entertained with that ceremonious affection as
you were wont; there's a great abatement of kindness appears as
well in the general dependants as in the duke himself also and
your daughter.
LEAR.
Ha! say'st thou so?
KNIGHT.
I beseech you pardon me, my lord, if I be mistaken; for my duty
cannot be silent when I think your highness wronged.
LEAR.
Thou but rememberest me of mine own conception: I have perceived
a most faint neglect of late; which I have rather blamed as mine
own jealous curiosity than as a very pretence and purpose of
unkindness: I will look further into't. — But where's my fool? I
have not seen him this two days.
KNIGHT.
Since my young lady's going into France, sir, the fool hath much
pined away.
LEAR.
No more of that; I have noted it well. — Go you and tell my
daughter I would speak with her. —
[Exit Attendant.]
Go you, call hither my fool.
[Exit another Attendant.]
[Re-enter Oswald.]
O, you, sir, you, come you hither, sir: who am I, sir?
OSWALD.
My lady's father.
LEAR.
My lady's father! my lord's knave: you whoreson dog! you slave!
you cur!
OSWALD.
I am none of these, my lord; I beseech your pardon.
LEAR.
Do you bandy looks with me, you rascal?
[Striking him.]
OSWALD.
I'll not be struck, my lord.
KENT.
Nor tripp'd neither, you base football player.
[Tripping up his heels.]
LEAR.
I thank thee, fellow; thou servest me, and I'll love thee.
KENT.
Come, sir, arise, away! I'll teach you differences: away, away!
If you will measure your lubber's length again, tarry; but away!
go to; have you wisdom? so.
[Pushes Oswald out.]
LEAR.
Now, my friendly knave, I thank thee: there's earnest of thy
service.
[Giving Kent money.]
[Enter Fool.]
