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

(Erit.)

Fool. If a man's brains were in his heels, were 't not in danger of kibes?

Lear. Ay, boy.

Fool. Then, I pr'y thee, 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 is like an apple, yet I can tell what I can tell.

Lear. Why, what canst thou tell, my boy?

Fool. She will taste as like this, as a crab does to a crab. Thou canst tell why one's nose stands i' the middle of his face? Lear. No.

Fool. Why, to keep his eyes on either side his nose; that what a man cannot smell out, he 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 his 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 it again perforce ! - Monster ingratitude! Fool. If thou wert my fool, nuncle, I'd have thee beaten fci being old before thy time.

Lear. How's that?

Fool. Thou shouldst not have been old, before 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 Gentleman.)

How now! Are the horses ready?

Gent. Ready, my lord.

Lear. Come, boy.

Fool. She that is maid now, and laughs at my departure, Shall not be a maid long, unless things be cut shorter.

SHAKSPEAR

THE LOYAL FOLLOWER.

LEAR- KENT.

(Enter Kent, disguised.)

Kent. If but as well I other accents borrow,
That can my speech diffuse, my good intent
May carry through itself to that full issue

For which I razed my likeness. - Now, banished Kent,
If thou canst serve where thou dost stand condemned,
(So may it come!) thy master, whom thou lovest,
Shall find thee full of labors.

(Horns within. Enter 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 as poor for a subject, as he is for a king, thou at 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.

SHAKSPEARE

THE ANGER OF KENT.

KENT- CORNWALL REGAN- EDMUND - GLOSTER

STEWARD.

Stew. Good dawning to thee, friend: - art of the house?

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Stew. Pr'y thee, if thou love me, tell me.

Kent. I love thee not.

Stew. Why, then I care not for thee.

Kent. If I had thee in Lipsbury pinfold, I would make thee

care for me.

Stew. Why dost thou use me thus? I know thee not.
Kent. Fellow, I know thee.

Stew. What dost thou know me for?

Kent. A knave; a rascal, an eater of broken meats; a base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three-suited, hundred pound, filthy worsted-stocking knave; a lily-livered, action-taking knave; a glass-gazing, superserviceable, finical rogue; one-trunk inheriting slave; one that wouldst be a bawd, in way of good service, and art nothing but the composition of a knave, beggar, coward, pander, and the son and heir of a mongrel: one whom I will beat into clamorous whining, if thou deniest the least syllable of thy addition.

Stew. Why, what a monstrous fellow art thou, thus to rail on one, that is neither known of thee, nor knows thee?

Kent. What a brazen-faced varlet art thou, to deny thou knowest me? Is it two days ago, since I tripped up thy heels, and beat thee, before the king? Draw, you rogue: for, though it be night, the moon shines; I'll make a sop o' the moonshine of you. Draw, you culnonly barber-monger, draw.

(Drawing his sword.)

Stew. Away; I have nothing to do with thee.

Kent. Draw, you rascal: you come with letters against the king; and take vanity the puppet's part, against the royalty of her father. Draw, you rogue, or I'll so carbonado your shanksdraw, you rascal; come your ways.

Stew. Help, ho! murder! help!

Kent. Strike, you slave; stand, rogue, stand; you neat slave, strike.

Stew. Help, ho! murder! murder !

(Beating him.)

(Enter Edmund, Cornwall, Regan, Gloster, and Servants) Edm. How now? What's the matter? Part.

Kent. With you, goodman boy, if you please; come, I'll flesh you; come on, young master.

Glo. Weapons! arms! What's the matter here?
Corn. Keep peace, upon your lives;

He dies, that strikes again. What is the matter?
Reg. The messengers from our sister and the king.
Corn. What is your difference? speak.

Stew. I am scarce in breath, my lord.

You

Kent. No marvel, you have so bestirred your valor. cowardly rascal, nature disclaims in thee; a tailor made thee. Corn. Thou art a strange fellow: a tailor make a man? Kent. Ay, a tailor, sir; a stone-cutter, or a painter, could not have made him so ill, though they had been but two hours at the trade.

Corn. Speak yet, how grew your quarrel?

Stew. This ancient ruffian, sir, whose life I have spared At suit of his gray beard,

Kent. Thou zed! thou unnecessary letter! My lord, if you will give me leave, I will tread this unbolted villain into mortar, and daub the wall with him. Spare my gray beard, vou wagtail ?

Corn. Peace, sirrah!

You beastly knave, know you no reverence?
Kent. Yes, sir; but anger has a privilege.

Corn. Why art thou angry?

Kent. That such a slave as this should wear a sword, Who wears no honesty. Such smiling rogues as these,

Like rats, oft bite the holy cords atwain

Which are too intrinse t' unloose: smooth every passion
That in the natures of their lords rebels;

Bring oil to fire, snow to their colder moods;
Renege, affirm, and turn their halcyon beaks
With every gale and vary of their masters,
As knowing nought, like dogs, but following.-
A plague upon your epileptic visage !
Smile you my speeches, as I were a fool?
Goose, if I had you upon Sarum plain,
I'd drive ye cackling home to Camelot.
Corn. What, art thou mad, old fellow ?

Glo. Say that.

How fell you out?

Kent. No contraries hold more antipathy, Than I and such a knave.

Corn. Why dost thou call him knave? What's his offense? Kent. His countenance likes me not.

Corn. No more, perchance, does mine, or his, or hers.
Kent. Sir, 't is my occupation to be plain;

I have seen better faces in my time,

Than stands on any shoulders that I see
Before me at this instant.

Corn.

This is some fellow,

Who, having been praised for bluntness, doth affect
A saucy roughness; and constrains the garb,

Quite from his nature.

He cannot flatter, he!

An honest mind and plain,

he must speak truth:

And they will take it, so; if not, he's plain.

These kind of knaves I know, which in this plainness
Harbor more craft, and more corrupter ends,
Than twenty silly ducking observants,

That stretch their duties nicely.

Kent. Sir, in good sooth, in sincere verity, Under the allowance of your grand aspéct, Whose influence, like the wreath of radiant fire On flickering Phoebus' front,

Corn.

What mean'st by this? Kent. To go out of my dialect, which you discommend sc much. I know, sir, I am no flatterer: he that beguiled you, in a plain accent, was a plain knave; which, for my part, I will not be, though I should win your displeasure to entreat me

to it.

Corn. What was the offense you gave him?
Stew.

Never any;

It pleased the king his master, very late,
To strike at me, upon his misconstruction:
When he, conjunct, and flattering his displeasure,
Tripped me behind; being down, insulted, railed,
And put upon him such a deal of man,
That worthied him, got praises of the king,
For him attempting who was self-subdued;
And, in the fleshment of this dread exploit,
Drew on me here.

Kent. None of these rogues, and cowards,
But Ajax is their fool.

Corn.

Fetch forth the stocks, ho!

You stubborn ancient knave, you reverend braggart,

We'll teach you·

Kent.
Sir, I am too old to learn :
Call not your stocks for me: I serve the king;
On whose employment I was sent to you:
You shall do smali respect, show too bold malice

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