comedy, my cue is villainous melancholy, with a figh like Tom o'Bedlam-0, these eclipses portend these divisions !

Edgar. How now, brother Edmund? what ferious contemplation are you in?

Edm. I am thinking, brother, of a prediction I read this other day, what should follow these eclipses.

Edgar. Do you busy yourself with that?

Edm. I promise you, the effects he writes of succeed unhappily. When faw you my father last?

Edgar. The night gone by.
Edm. Späke you with him ?
Edgar. Ay, two hours together.

Edm. Parted you in good terms ? found you no displeasure in him, by word or countenance ?

Edgar. None at all.

Edm. Bethink yourself, wherein you have offended him: and, at my entreaty, forbear his prefence, until some little time hath qualified the heat of his displeasure ; which at this instant fo rageth in him, that with the mischief of your person it would scarcely allay.

Edgar. Some villain hath done me wrong.

Edm. That's my fear; I pray you, retire with me to my lodging, from whence I will fitly bring

you

wards you ;

you to hear my lord speak : pray you, go; if you do stir abroad, go armed.

Edgar. Armed, brother!

Edm. Brother, I advise you to the best; I am no honest man, if there be any good meaning to

I have told you what I have seen and heard, but faintly; nothing like the image and hor, ror of it; pray you, away!

Edgar. Shall I hear from you anon?
Edm. I do serve you in this business :

[Exit Edgar.
A credulous father, and a brother noble,
Whofe nature is so far from doing harms,
That he suspects none; on whose foolish honefty
My practices ride easy! I see the business. :)
Let me, if not by birth, have lands by wit!
All with me's meet, that I can fashion fit. [Enito

Scene, the Duke of Albany's Palace.

Enter Gonerill and Steward. Gon. My father strike my gentleman ? Stew. Ay, madam. Gon. By day and night, he wrongs me; I'll not

endure it: His knights grow riotous, and himself upbraids us

On

ev'ry trifle. When he returns from hunting,
I will not speak with him ; fay, I am sick,
If you come flack of former services,
You shall do well; the fault of it I'll answer.
- Stew. I understand, and will obey you, madam.

Ġor. Put on what weary negligence you please,
You and your fellows: I'd have it come to question.
If he distaste it, let him to my sister,
Whose mind and mine, I know, in that are one,
Not to be over-ruld: idle old man,
That still would manage those authorities,
That he hath given away!
Remember what I've said.

Stew. Very well, madam.

Gon. And let his knights have colder looks among you: what grows of it, no matter; advise your fellows so: I'll write straight to my sister to hold my course : away!

[Exeunt. Scene changes to an open place before the Palace.

Enter Kent disguis'd.
Kent. If but as well I other accents borrow,
And can my speech diffuse, my good intent
May carry thro' itself to that full ifrue,
For which I raz’d my likeness. Now, banishid
Kent,

1

If thou canst serve where thou doft stand condemn'd,
So may it come, thy master, whom thou lov'st,
Shall find thee full of labours.

Enter Lear, Knights and attendants. Lear. Let me not stay a jot for dinner; go, get it ready: how now, what art thou ? [To Kent.

Kent. A man, Sir.

Lear. What doft thou profess? what wouldst thou with us?

Kent. I do profefs to be no less than I seem; to serve him truly, that will put me in trust; to love him that is honeft; to converse with him that is wise, and says little; to fight when I cannot chuse, and to eat no fish.

Lear. What art thou ?

Kent. A very honeft-hearted fellow, and as poor as the king.

Lear. If thou be'st as poor for a subject, as he is for a king, thou art poor enough. What wouldst thou?

Kent. Service.
Lear. Whom 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.

Lear. What's that?
Kent. Authority
Lear. What services canst thou do?

Kent. I can keep honeft counsels, ride, run, marr 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 finging ; nor so old, to doat on her for any thing. I have years on my back forty-eight.

Lear. Follow me, thou shalt serve me.

Enter Steward.

You, you, firrah, where's my daughter?
Stew. So please you

[Exit. Lear. What says the fellow there? call the clot

pole back.

· 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.