Lear. If thou be as poore for a fubiect, as he is for a king, thou art poore enough, what wouldst thou?

Kent. Seruice.

Lear. Who wouldst thou ferue?

Kent. You.

Lear. Doft thou know me fellow?

Kent. No fir, but you haue that in your countenance, which I would faine call mafter.

Lear. What's that?

Kent. Authority.

Lear. What feruices canft thou do?

Kent. I can keepe honeft counfaile, ride, run, marre a curious tale in telling it, and deliuer a plaine message bluntly, that which ordinary men are fit for, I am qualified in, and the beft of me, is diligence.

Lear. How old art thou?

Kent. Not fo young to loue a woman for finging, nor fo old to dote on her for any thing, I haue yeares on my backe forty eight.

Lear. Follow me, thou fhalt ferue me, if I like thee no worfe after dinner, I will not part from thee yet; dinner ho, dinner, where's my knaue my foole, goe you and call my foole hether, you firra, where's my daughter?

Enter Steward.

Steward. So please you.

Lear. What faies the fellow there? call the clat-pole backe, where's my foole? ho, I thinke the world's asleepe, how now, where's that mungrell?

Kent. He faies my lord, your daughter is not well.

Lear. Why came not the daue backe to me when I call'd him?

Seruant.

Seruant. Sir, he anfwered me in the roundest manner, hee would not.

Lear. He would not?

Seruant. My lord, I know not what the matter is, but to my iudgement, your highnesse is not entertain'd with that ceremonious affection as you were wont, there's a great abatement appeares as well in the generall dependants, as in the duke himselfe alfo, and your daughter.

Lear. Ha, faift thou fo?

Seruant. I beseech you pardon me my lord, if I be mistaken, for my duty cannot be filent, when I thinke your highneffe is wrong'd.

Lear. Thou but remembrest me of mine owne conception, I haue perceiued a most faint neglect of late, which I haue rather blamed as mine owne iealous curiofity, then as a very pretence and purport of vnkindnes; I will look further into it, but wher's this foole? I haue not feene him this two daies. Seruant. Since my young ladies going into France fir, the foole hath much pined away.

Lear. No more of that, I haue noted it, goe you and tell my daughter, I would speake with her, go you call hither my foole; O you fir, you fir, come you hither, who am I

fir?

Stew. My ladies father.

Lear. My ladies father, my lords knaue, you whorefon dog, you flaue, you curre.

Stew. I am none of this my lord, I beseech you pardon me,
Lear. Do you bandy lookes with me you rascall?

Stew. Ile not be strucke my lord.

Kent. Nor tript neither, you bafe football plaier.

Lear. I thanke thee fellow, thou feru'ft me, and ile loue thee.

Kent.

Kent. Come fir, ile teach you differences, away, away, if you will measure your lubbers length againe, tarry, but away, you haue wifedome.

Lear. Now friendly knaue I thanke thee, there's earnest of thy feruice,

Enter Foole.

Foole. Let me hire him too, here's my coxcombe.

Lear. How now my pretty knaue, how doft thou?
Foole. Sirra, you were best take my coxcombe.

Kent, Why foole?

Foole. Why for taking ones part that's out of fauour, nay and thou canst not smile as the winde fits, thou't catch colde shortly, there take my coxcombe; why this fellow hath banifht two of his daughters, and done the third a bleffing against his will, if thou follow him, thou must needs weare my coxcombe, how now nunckle, would I had two coxcombes, and two daughters.

Lear. Why my boy?

Foole. If I gaue them any liuing, ide keepe my coxcombe my felfe, theres mine, beg another of thy daughters.

Lear. Take heed firra, the whip.

Foole. Truth is, a dog that must to kennell, he must bee whipt out, when lady oth'e brach may ftand by the fire and ftinke.

Lear. A peftilent gull to me.

Foole. Sirra, ile teach thee a fpeech.

Lear. Do.

Foole. Marke it vnckle; haue more then thou fheweft, fpeake leffe then thou knoweft, lend leffe then thou owest, ride more then thou goeft, learne more then thou trowest, fet leffe then thou throweft, leaue thy drink and thy whore,

and

and keepe in a doore, and thou fhalt haue more, then two tens to a score.

Lear. This is nothing foole.

Foole. Then like the breath of an vnfeed lawyer, you gaue me nothing for it; can you make no vfe of nothing vncle? Lear. Why no boy, nothing can be made out of nothing. Foole. Prethee tell him, fo much the rent of his land comes to, he will not beleeue a foole.

Lear. A bitter foole.

Foole. Doft thou know the difference my boy, betweene a bitter foole, and a sweete foole.

Lear. No lad, teach me.

Foole. That lord that counfaild thee to giue away thy land, Come place him heere by me, do thou for him stand, The sweete and bitter foole will prefently appeare, The one in motley here, the other found out there. Lear. Doft thou call me foole boy?

Foole. Al thy other titles thou haft giuen away, that thou waft borne with.

Kent. This is not altogether foole my lord.

Foole. No faith, lords and great men will not let me, if I had a monopolie out, they would haue part on't, and lodes too, they will not let me haue all foole to my felfe, thei'l be fnatching; giue me an egge nunckle, and ile giue thee two

crownes.

Lear. What two crownes fhall they be?

Foole. Why after I haue cut the egge in the middle and eate vp the meate, the two crownes of the egge: when thou cloueft thy crowne in the middle, and gaueft away both parts, thou boreft thy affe on thy back ore the dirt, thou hadst little wit in thy bald crowne, when thou gaueft thy golden one away; if I fpeak like my felfe in this, let him be whipt that firft findes it fo.

Fooles

Fooles had nere leffe wit in a yeare,

For wife men are growne foppish,

They know not how their wits do weare,
Their manners are so apish.

Lear. When were you wont to be fo full of fongs firra? Foole. I haue vfed it nuncle, euer fince thou mad'ft thy daughters thy mother, for when thou gaueft them the rod, and putt downe thine owne breeches, then they for fudden ioy did weep, and I for forrow fung, that such a king should play bo peepe, and goe the fooles among: prethee nunckle keepe a schoole-mafter that can teach thy foole to lie, I would faine learne to lie.

Lear. If you lie, wee'l haue you whipt.

Foole. I maruell what kin thou and thy daughters are, they'l haue me whipt for speaking true, thou wilt haue mee whipt for lying, and fometime I am whipt for holding my peace, I had rather be any kinde of thinge then a foole, and yet I would not bee thee nunckle, thou haft pared thy wit a both fides, and left nothing in the middle; heere comes one of the parings.

Enter Gonorill.

Lear. How now daughter, what makes that frontlet on, Me-thinkes you are too much alate i'th frowne.

Foole. Thou waft a pretty fellow when thou hadst no neede to care for her frowne, thou, thou art an O without a figure, I am better then thou art now, I am a foole, thou art nothing; yes forfooth I will hold my tongue, so your face bids me, though you say nothing.

Mum, mum, he that keeps neither cruft nor crum,
Weary of all, fhall want fome. That's a fheald pefcod.

Gon. Not onely fir this, your all-licenc'd foole, but other of your infolent retinue do hourely carpe and quarrell, breaking