ACT 1, SCENE 3: 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,                                             [5]
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,                                                     [10]
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'd have it come to question:
If he dislike it, let him to our sister,                                                       [15]
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                                        [20]
With checks 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,                               [25]
That I may speak: I'll write straight to my sister,
To hold my very course. Prepare for dinner.

[Exeunt.]


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