Tuesday, 8 October 2019


Doth any here know me? This is not Lear:
Doth Lear walk thus? speak thus? Where are his eyes?
Either his notion weakens, his discernings
Are lethargied--Ha! waking? 'tis not so.

Who is it that can tell me who I am?

Lear's Shadow.

Scene 11 
X-Files office. The TV monitor is playing a tape of an Indian man sticking a burning torch into his mouth. CHUCK BURKS is showing it to SCULLY and DOGGETT.)

(CLOSED CAPTIONING: CHUCK BURKS: They take religious devotion to an extreme.)

CHUCK BURKS: They're called Fakir-- ascetic masters bound to acts of self-torture to attain enlightenment.

(Another image of an Indian man who has done some really weird and painful-looking stretching and piercing of his face.)

CHUCK BURKS: We shot this video when I was traveling through India back in the late '70s... Oh, man, look at my hair back then.

(On the video, a YOUNG CHUCK BURKS with very long dark hair grins and flashes a peace sign at the camera as another Indian messes around with a very dangerous looking snake.)

SCULLY: Agent Mulder consulted with Dr. Burks on occasion and I have to admit that I've been skeptical of him in the past but he does have certain insights.

DOGGETT: Well, we could use some insights.

CHUCK BURKS: Uh, well, I-I'm embarrassed to admit but I-I'm not sure I know what the heck's going on here.

SCULLY: These ascetic masters... they have abilities?

CHUCK BURKS: Oh, absolutely. An-and abilities similar to those you told me about on the phone have been ascribed to what are know as Siddhi mystics. The Siddhi are a very mysterious and particularly powerful order of Fakirs. These Siddhi, they pass on their secret practices from father to son gaining occult powers with each generation.

DOGGETT: What kind of powers?

(DOGGETT is not impressed with CHUCK BURKS. SCULLY is listening intently.)

CHUCK BURKS: Powers of the mind. Powers that help them manipulate reality. Powers that allow them to become invisible or tiny as an atom.

DOGGETT: Well, I hope they're tiny. Where, whoever it is, is going.

(SCULLY gives DOGGETT a look, then turns back to CHUCK BURKS.)

SCULLY: Chuck... Could one of these Siddhi mystics make you believe that he vanished in a room when in fact, he's standing right in front of you?

CHUCK BURKS: Totally. Or disguise themselves appearing in front of you as, uh, well, virtually anyone.

DOGGETT: I'm sorry, Dr. Burks, you're a... you're a professor of what?

CHUCK BURKS: I run the Advanced Digital Imaging lab at the University of Maryland. And, um, I dabble.

DOGGETT: You dabble. (to SCULLY, sarcastic) Well, this has been... insightful.

(DOGGETT leaves the room. CHUCK BURKS watches him go.)

CHUCK BURKS: Doesn't surprise me.


CHUCK BURKS: It's hard to believe in something when you can't understand it.

(SCULLY nods slowly.)

Now, my friendly knave, I thank thee: there's
earnest of thy service.
Giving KENT money

Enter Fool

Let me hire him too: here's my coxcomb.
Offering KENT his cap

How now, my pretty knave! how dost thou?
Sirrah, you were best take my coxcomb.
Why, fool?
Why, for taking one's part that's out of favour:
nay, an thou canst not smile as the wind sits,
thou'lt catch cold shortly: there, take my coxcomb:
why, this fellow has banished two on's daughters,
and did the third a blessing against his will; if
thou follow him, thou must needs wear my coxcomb.
How now, nuncle! Would I had two coxcombs and two daughters!
Why, my boy?
If I gave them all my living, I'ld keep my coxcombs
myself. There's mine; beg another of thy daughters.
Take heed, sirrah; the whip.
Truth's a dog must to kennel; he must be whipped
out, when Lady the brach may stand by the fire and stink.
A pestilent gall to me!
Sirrah, I'll teach thee a speech.
Mark it, nuncle:
Have more than thou showest,
Speak less than thou knowest,
Lend less than thou owest,
Ride more than thou goest,
Learn more than thou trowest,
Set less than thou throwest;
Leave thy drink and thy whore,
And keep in-a-door,
And thou shalt have more
Than two tens to a score.
This is nothing, fool.
Then 'tis like the breath of an unfee'd lawyer; you
gave me nothing for't. Can you make no use of
nothing, nuncle?
Why, no, boy; nothing can be made out of nothing.
[To KENT] Prithee, tell him, so much the rent of
his land comes to: he will not believe a fool.
A bitter fool!
Dost thou know the difference, my boy, between a
bitter fool and a sweet fool?
No, lad; teach me.
That lord that counsell'd thee
To give away thy land,
Come place him here by me,
Do thou for him stand:
The sweet and bitter fool
Will presently appear;
The one in motley here,
The other found out there.
Dost thou call me fool, boy?
All thy other titles thou hast given away; that
thou wast born with.
This is not altogether fool, my lord.
No, faith, lords and great men will not let me; if
I had a monopoly out, they would have part on't:
and ladies too, they will not let me have all fool
to myself; they'll be snatching. Give me an egg,
nuncle, and I'll give thee two crowns.
What two crowns shall they be?
Why, after I have cut the egg i' the middle, and eat
up the meat, the two crowns of the egg. When thou
clovest thy crown i' the middle, and gavest away
both parts, thou borest thy ass on thy back o'er
the dirt: thou hadst little wit in thy bald crown,
when thou gavest thy golden one away. If I speak
like myself in this, let him be whipped that first
finds it so.

Fools had ne'er less wit in a year;
For wise men are grown foppish,
They know not how their wits to wear,
Their manners are so apish.
When were you wont to be so full of songs, sirrah?
I have used it, nuncle, ever since thou madest thy
daughters thy mothers: for when thou gavest them
the rod, and put'st down thine own breeches,

Then they for sudden joy did weep,
And I for sorrow sung,
That such a king should play bo-peep,
And go the fools among.
Prithee, nuncle, keep a schoolmaster that can teach
thy fool to lie: I would fain learn to lie.
An you lie, sirrah, we'll have you whipped.
I marvel what kin thou and thy daughters are:
they'll have me whipped for speaking true, thou'lt
have me whipped for lying; and sometimes I am
whipped for holding my peace. I had rather be any
kind o' thing than a fool: and yet I would not be
thee, nuncle; thou hast pared thy wit o' both sides,
and left nothing i' the middle: here comes one o'
the parings.

How now, daughter! what makes that frontlet on?
Methinks you are too much of late i' the frown.
Thou wast a pretty fellow when thou hadst no need to
care for her frowning; now thou art an O without a
figure: I am better than thou art now; I am a fool,
thou art nothing.

Yes, forsooth, I will hold my tongue; so your face
bids me, though you say nothing. Mum, mum,
He that keeps nor crust nor crum,
Weary of all, shall want some.
Pointing to KING LEAR

That's a shealed peascod.
Not only, sir, this your all-licensed fool,
But other of your insolent retinue
Do hourly carp and quarrel; breaking forth
In rank and not-to-be endured riots. Sir,
I had thought, by making this well known unto you,
To have found a safe redress; but now grow fearful,
By what yourself too late have spoke and done.
That you protect this course, and put it on
By your allowance; which if you should, the fault
Would not 'scape censure, nor the redresses sleep,
Which, in the tender of a wholesome weal,
Might in their working do you that offence,
Which else were shame, that then necessity
Will call discreet proceeding.
For, you trow, nuncle,
The hedge-sparrow fed the cuckoo so long,
That it's had it head bit off by it young.
So, out went the candle, and we were left darkling.
Are you our daughter?
Come, sir,
I would you would make use of that good wisdom,
Whereof I know you are fraught; and put away
These dispositions, that of late transform you
From what you rightly are.
May not an ass know when the cart
draws the horse? Whoop, Jug! I love thee.

Doth any here know me? This is not Lear:
Doth Lear walk thus? speak thus? Where are his eyes?
Either his notion weakens, his discernings
Are lethargied--Ha! waking? 'tis not so.
Who is it that can tell me who I am?

Lear's shadow.

I would learn that; for, by the
marks of sovereignty, knowledge, and reason,
I should be false persuaded I had daughters.

Which they will make an obedient father.
Your name, fair gentlewoman?
This admiration, sir, is much o' the savour
Of other your new pranks. I do beseech you
To understand my purposes aright:
As you are old and reverend, you should be wise.
Here do you keep a hundred knights and squires;
Men so disorder'd, so debosh'd and bold,
That this our court, infected with their manners,
Shows like a riotous inn: epicurism and lust
Make it more like a tavern or a brothel
Than a graced palace. The shame itself doth speak
For instant remedy: be then desired
By her, that else will take the thing she begs,
A little to disquantity your train;
And the remainder, that shall still depend,
To be such men as may besort your age,
And know themselves and you.

Darkness and devils!
Saddle my horses; call my train together:
Degenerate bastard! I'll not trouble thee.
Yet have I left a daughter.

You strike my people; and your disorder'd rabble
Make servants of their betters.

Woe, that too late repents,--

O, sir, are you come?
Is it your will? Speak, sir. Prepare my horses.
Ingratitude, thou marble-hearted fiend,
More hideous when thou show'st thee in a child
Than the sea-monster!

Pray, sir, be patient.

[To GONERIL] Detested kite! thou liest.
My train are men of choice and rarest parts,
That all particulars of duty know,
And in the most exact regard support
The worships of their name. O most small fault,
How ugly didst thou in Cordelia show!
That, like an engine, wrench'd my frame of nature
From the fix'd place; drew from heart all love,
And added to the gall. O Lear, Lear, Lear!
Beat at this gate, that let thy folly in,
Striking his head

And thy dear judgment out! Go, go, my people.
My lord, I am guiltless, as I am ignorant
Of what hath moved you.
It may be so, my lord.
Hear, nature, hear; dear goddess, hear!
Suspend thy purpose, if thou didst intend
To make this creature fruitful!
Into her womb convey sterility!
Dry up in her the organs of increase;
And from her derogate body never spring
A babe to honour her! If she must teem,
Create her child of spleen; that it may live,
And be a thwart disnatured torment to her!
Let it stamp wrinkles in her brow of youth;
With cadent tears fret channels in her cheeks;
Turn all her mother's pains and benefits
To laughter and contempt; that she may feel
How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is
To have a thankless child! Away, away!

Now, gods that we adore, whereof comes this?
Never afflict yourself to know the cause;
But let his disposition have that scope
That dotage gives it.
Re-enter KING LEAR

What, fifty of my followers at a clap!
Within a fortnight!
What's the matter, sir?
I'll tell thee:

Life and death! I am ashamed
That thou hast power to shake my manhood thus;
That these hot tears, which break from me perforce,
Should make thee worth them. Blasts and fogs upon thee!
The untented woundings of a father's curse
Pierce every sense about thee! Old fond eyes,
Beweep this cause again, I'll pluck ye out,
And cast you, with the waters that you lose,
To temper clay. Yea, it is come to this?
Let is be so: yet have I left a daughter,
Who, I am sure, is kind and comfortable:
When she shall hear this of thee, with her nails
She'll flay thy wolvish visage. Thou shalt find
That I'll resume the shape which thou dost think
I have cast off for ever: thou shalt,
I warrant thee.
Exeunt KING LEAR, KENT, and Attendants

Do you mark that, my lord?
I cannot be so partial, Goneril,
To the great love I bear you,--
Pray you, content. What, Oswald, ho!
To the Fool

You, sir, more knave than fool, after your master.
Nuncle Lear, nuncle Lear, tarry and take the fool
with thee.
A fox, when one has caught her,
And such a daughter,
Should sure to the slaughter,
If my cap would buy a halter:
So the fool follows after.


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