KENT

I Thought the King had more affected the Duke of All bany then Cornwell. Is not this your son my Lord? I cannot conceive you. I cannot wish the fault undone, the issue of it being so proper. I must love you, and sue to know you better. Good my Liege. Royal Lear, Whom I have ever honoured as my King, Loved as my Father, as my master followed, As my great patron thought on in my prayers. Let it fallen rather, Though the fork invade the region of my heart, Be Kenned unmannerly when Lear is man, What wilt thou do old man, thinkest thou that duty Shall have dread to speak, when power to flattery bows, To plainness honours bound when Majesty stoops to folly, Reverse thy doom, and in thy best consideration Check this hideous rashness, answer my life My judgement, thy youngest daughter does not love thee least, Nor are those empty hearted whose low, found Reuerbs no hollowness. My life I never held but as a pawn To wage against thy enemies, nor fear to loose it Thy safety being the motive. See better Lear and let me still remain, The true blank of thine eye. Now by Apollo King thou swearest thy Gods in vain. Do, kill thy Physician. And the fee bestow upon the foul disease, Revoke thy doom, or while I can vent clamour From my throat, isle tell thee thou dost evil. Why fare thee well king, since thus thou wilt appear, Friendship lives hence, and banishment is here, The Gods to their protection take the maid, That rightly thinks, and hast most justly said, And your large speeches may your deeds approve, That good effects may spring from words of love: Thus Kenned Oh Princes, bids you all adieu, Heel shape his old course in a country new. If but as well I other accents borrow, that can my speech defuse, my good intent may carry through it self to that full is sue for which I razed my likeness, now banished Kenned, if thou canst serve where thou dost stand condemned, thy master whom thou love shall find the full of labour. A man Sir. I do profess to be no less then I seem, to serve him truly that will put me in trust, to love him that is honest, to con verse with him that is wise, and says little, to fear judgement, to fight when I cannot choose, and to eat no fish. A very honest hearted fellow, and as poor as the king. Service. You. No sir, but you have that in your countenance, which I would feign call Master. Authority. 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. Not so young to love a woman for singing, nor so old to dote on her for any thing, I have years on my back forty eight. He say's my Lord, your daughter is not well. Nor trip neither, you base football player. Come sir isle teach you differences, away, away, if you will measure your lubbers length again, tarry, but away, you have wisdom. Why Fool? This is not altogether fool my Lord. I will not sleep my Lord, till I have delivered your letter. I. It'h mire. I love thee not. If I had thee in Lipsburie pinfold, I would make thee care for me. Fellow I know thee. A knave, a rascal, and eater of broken meats, a base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three shewted hundred pound, filthy worsted-stocken knave, a lily lyuer'd Actium taking knave, a whoreson glassegazing superfinicall rogue, one trunk inheri ting slave, one that wouldst be a baud in way of good service, and art nothing but the composition of a knave, beggar, cow ard, pander, and the son and heir of a mongrel bitch, whom I will Beatrice into clamorous whining, if thou deny the least silla ble of the addition. What a brazen faced varlet art thou, to deny thou knowest me, is it two days ago since I Beatrice thee, and trip up thy heals before the King? draw you rogue, for though it be night the Moon shines, isle make a sop of the moonshine a you, draw you whoreson cullyonly barber-munger, draw? Draw you rascal, you bring letters against the King, and take Vanity the puppets partly, against the royalty of her father, draw you rogue or isle so carbonado your shanks, draw you rascal, come your ways. Strike you slave, stand rogue, stand you neat slave, strike? With you goodman boy, and you please come, isle flesh you, come on young master. No marvel you have so bestirred your valour, you cowardly rascal, nature disclaims in thee, a Tailor made thee. I, a Tailor sir; a Stonecutter, or a Painter could not have made him so ill, though he had been but two hours at the trade. Thou whoreson Zedd, thou unnecessary letter, my Lord if you'll give me leave, I will tread this unbolted villain into mortar, and daub the walls of a Jaques with him, spare my grey beard you wagtail. Yes sir, but anger has a privilege. That such a slave as this should wear a sword, That wears no honesty, such smiling roges as these, Like Rats oft bite those cords in twain, Which are to entrench, to inloose smooth every passion That in the nature's of their Lords rebel, Bring oil to stir, snow to their colder-moods, Reneag affirm, and turn their halcion beaks With every gale and vary of their masters, Knowing nought Like days but following, a plague upon your epeliptick Visage, smoyle you my speeches, as I were a fool? Goose and I had you upon Sarum plain, Id'e send you cackling home to Camulet., No contraries hold more, antipathy, Then I and such a knave. His countenance likes me not. Sir 'tis my occupation to be plain, I have seen better faces in my time That stands on any shoulder that I see Before me at this instant. Sir in good sooth, or in sincere verity, Under the allowance of your grand aspect. Whose influence Like the wreathe of radiant fire In flitkering Phœbus front. To go out of my dialogue which you discommend so much, I know sir, I am no flatterer, he that beguiled you in a plain accent, was a plain knave, which for my partly I will not be, though I should win your displeasure, to entreat me too't. None of these roges & cowards but A'Iax is their fool. I am too old to learn, call not your stocks for me, I serve the King, on whose employments I was sent to you, You should do small respect, show too bold malice Against the Grace and person of my master, Stopping his messenger. Why Madam, if I were your father's dog, you could not use me so. Pray you do not sir, I have watched and travailed hard, Sometime I shall sleep out, the rest isle whistle, A good men fortune may grow out at heals, Give you good morrow. Good King that must approve the continued ̄ mon saw, Thou out of heavens benediction comest To the warm Sun. Approach thou beacon to this under gloabe, That by thy comfortable beams I may Peruse this letter, nothing almost sees my wrack But misery, I know 'tis from Cordelia, Who hath most fortunately been informed Of my obscured course, and shall find time From this enormous state, seeking to give Losles their remedies, all weary and overwatch Take vantage heavy eyes not to behold This shameful lodging, Fortune goodnight, Smile, once more turn thy wheel. Hail to thee noble master. It is both he and she, your son & daughter. Yes. I say yea. Yes they have. My Lord, when at their home I did commend your highness letters to them, Ere I was risen from the place that showed My duty kneeling, came there a reeking Post, Stewd in his hast, half breathless, panting forth From Gonorill his mistress, salutations, Delivered letters spite of intermission, Which presently they read, on whose contents They summoned up their men, straight took horse, Commanded me to follow, and attend the leisure Of their answer, gave me cold looks, And meeting here the other messenger, Whose welcome I perceived had poisoned mine, Being the very fellow that of late Displayed so saucily against your Highness, Having more man then wit about me drew, He raised the house with loud and coward cries, Your son and daughter found this trespass worth This shame which here it suffers. With the Earl sir within, No, how chance the King comes with so small a train? Why fool? Whats here beside foul weather? I know you, wheres the King? But who is with him? Sir I do know you, And dare upon the warrant of my Art, Commend a deer thing to you, there is division, Although as yet the face of it be covered, With mutual cunning, betwixt Albany and Cornwall But true it is, from France there comes a power Into this scattered kingdom, who already wise in our neglige ̄ ce, Have secret feet in some of our best Ports, And are at point to show their open banner Now to you, if on my credit you dare built so far, To make your speed to Dover, you shall find Some that will thank you, making joust report Ofhow unnatural and bemadding sorrow The King hath cause to plain, I am a Gentleman of blood and breeding, And from some knowledge and assurance, Offer this office to you. No do not, For confirmation that I much more Then my outwall, open this purse and take What it contains, if you shall see Cordelia, As fear not but you shall, show her this ring, And she will tell you who your fellow is, That yet you do not know, fie on this storm, I will go seek the King. Few words but to effect more then all yet: That when we have found the King. I'll this way, you that, he that first lights On him, hollow the other. Whose there? Alas sir, fit you here? Things that love night, love not such nights as these, The wrathful Skies gallow, the very wanderer of the Dark, and makes them keep their caves, Since I was man, such sheets of fire, Such bursts of horred thunder, such groans of Roaring wind, and rain, I never remember To have herd, men nature cannot carry The affliction, nor the force. Alack bore headed, gracious my Lord, hard by here is a hovel, some friendship will it lend you gainst the tempest, re pose you there, while I to this hard house, more hard then is the stone whereof 'tis raised, which even but now demanding after me, denied me to come in, return and force their scanted courtesy. Here is the place my Lord, good my Lord enter, the tyranny of the open nights too ruff for nature to endure. Good my Lord enter. I had rather break mine own, good my Lord enter. Good my Lord enter. Give me thy hand, whose there. What art thou that dost grumble there in the straw, come forth? He hath no daughters sir. How fares your Grace? Whose there, what i'st you seek? My good Lord take his offer, go into the house. Importune him to go my Lord, his wits begin to unsettle. This way my Lord. Sirrah come on, go along with us? How do you sir? stand you not so amazed, will you lie down and rest upon the cushings? Oh pity sir, where is the patience now, That you so oft have boasted to retain. Now good my Lord lie here awhile. Here sir, but trouble him not his wits are gone. Oppressed nature sleeps, This rest might yet have balmed thy broken sinews, Which if convenience will not allow stand in hard cure, Come help to bear thy master, thou must not stay behind. Why the King of France is so suddenly gone back, know you no reason. Who hath he left behind him, General. Did your letters pierce the queen to any demonstratio ̄ of grief. Oh then it moved her. Made she no verbal question. It is the stars, the stars above us govern our conditions, Else one self mate and make could not beget, Such different issues, you spoke not with her since. Was this before the King returned. Well sir, the poor distressed Lear is ith town, Who some time in his better tune remembers, What we are come about, and by no means will yield to see his daughter. A sovereign shame so elbows him his own unkindness That stripped her from his benediction turned her, To for rain casualties gave her deer rights, To his dog-harted daughters, these things sting his mind, So venomously that burning shame detains him from Cordelia. Of Albanies and Cornewals powers you herd not. Well sir, isle bring you to our master Lear, And leave you to attend him some deer cause, Will in concealment wrap me up awhile, When I am known aright you shall not grieve, Lending me this acquaintance, I pray you go along with me. To be acknowlegd madame is over paid, All my reports go with the modest truth, Nor more, nor clipped, but so. Pardon me deer madame, Yet to be known shortens my made intent, My boon I make it that you know me not, Till time and I think meet. Klnd and deer Princess, In your own kingdom sir. Most certain sir. As 'tis said, the bastard son of Gloucester. Report is changeable, 'tis time to look about, The powers of the kingdom approach apace. My point and perjod will be thoroughly wrought, Or well, or ill, as this days battles fought. I am come to bid my King and master ay good night, Is he not here? Alack why thus. Is this the promised end. A my good master. If Fortune bragd of two she loved or hated, One of them we behold. The same your servant Kenned, where is your servant Caius, No my good Lord, I am the very man. That from your life of difference and decay, Have followed your sad steps. Nor no man else, also chearles, dark and deadly, Your eldest daughters have foredoom themselves. And desperately are dead. Vex not his ghost, Oh let him pass, He hates him that would upon the wrack, Of this tough world stretch him out longer. The wonder is, he hath endured so long, He but usurped his life. I have a journey sir, shortly to go, My master calls, and I must not say no. Good my Lord sooth him, let him take the fellow. All the power of his wits have given way to impatience, the Gods deserve your kindness.