No More Learning

[Exit a Knight. ] Where's my fool, ho? I think the world's
asleep.

[Enter Knight]

How now? Where's that mongrel?
Knight. He says, my lord, your daughter is not well.
Lear. Why came not the slave back to me when I call'd him?
Knight. Sir, he answered me in the roundest manner, he would not.
Lear. He would not?
Knight. My lord, I know not what the matter is; but to my judgment
your Highness is not entertain'd with that ceremonious affection
as you were wont.
There's a great abatement of kindness appears
as well in the general dependants as in the Duke himself also
and your daughter.
Lear. Ha! say'st thou so?
Knight. I beseech you pardon me, my lord, if I be mistaken; for
my duty cannot be silent when I think your Highness wrong'd.
Lear. Thou but rememb'rest me of mine own conception. I have
perceived a most faint neglect of late, which I have rather
blamed as mine own jealous curiosity than as a very pretence
and purpose of unkindness. I will look further into't. But
where's my fool? I have not seen him this two days.
Knight. Since my young lady's going into France, sir, the fool
hath much pined away.
Lear. No more of that; I have noted it well.