ACT I
SCENE III The Duke of Albany's palace.


 [Enter GONERIL, and OSWALD, her steward]

GONERIL Did my father strike my gentleman for chiding of his fool?

OSWALD Yes, madam.

GONERIL By day and night he wrongs me; every hour
 He flashes into one gross crime or other,
 That sets us all at odds: I'll not endure it:
 His knights grow riotous, and himself upbraids us
 On every trifle. When he returns from hunting,
 I will not speak with him; say I am sick:
 If you come slack of former services,
 You shall do well; the fault of it I'll answer.

OSWALD He's coming, madam; I hear him.

 [Horns within]

GONERIL Put on what weary negligence you please,
 You and your fellows; I'll have it come to question:
 If he dislike it, let him to our sister,
 Whose mind and mine, I know, in that are one,
 Not to be over-ruled. Idle old man,
 That still would manage those authorities
 That he hath given away! Now, by my life,
 Old fools are babes again; and must be used
 With cheques as flatteries,--when they are seen abused.
 Remember what I tell you.

OSWALD Well, madam.

GONERIL And let his knights have colder looks among you;
 What grows of it, no matter; advise your fellows so:
 I would breed from hence occasions, and I shall,
 That I may speak: I'll write straight to my sister,
 To hold my very course. Prepare for dinner.

 [Exeunt]




 KING LEAR


ACT I