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Would he deny his letter, said he?-I never got him. Hark, the duke's trumpets ! I know not why he
comes :All ports I'll bar; the villain shall not 'scape ; The duke muit grant me that: besides, his picture I will send far and near, that all the kingdom May have due note of him ; and of my landLoyal and natural boy, I'll work the means To make thee capable.
Enter CORNWALL, REGAN, and Attendants. Corn. How now, my noble friend, since I came
hither (Which I can call but now), I have heard strange
Reg. If it be true, all vengeance comes too short Which can pursue the offender. How does my lord?
Glo. O, madam, my old heartiscrack'd, iscrack'd!
Reg. What, did my father's godson feek your life? He whom my father nam’d? your Edgar?
Glo. O, lady, lady, thame would have it hid !
Reg. Was he not companion with the riotous That tend upon my father?
[knights Glo. I know not, madam: It is too bad, too bad.
Edm. Yes, madarr., he was of that confort.
Reg. No marvel then, though he were ill affected'; 'Tis they have put him on the old man's death, To have the expence and waste of his revenues. I have this present evening from my sister Been well inform’d of them; and with such cautions, That, if they come to fojourn at my house, P'll not be there.
Corn. Nor I, affure thee, Regan. Edmund, I hear that you have thewn your father
A child-like office.
Edm. 'Twas my duty, fir.
Glo. He did bewray his practice; and receiv’d This hurt you fee, striving to apprehend him.
Corn. Is he pursu'd ?
Corn. If he be taken, he shall never more
Edm. I hall serve you, fir,
Glo. For him I thank your grace.
Reg. Thus out of season ; threading dark-ey'd
Glo. I serve you, madam: Your graces are right welcome. (Exeunt.
SCENE II. Enter Kent and Steward, Jeverally. Stew. Good even to thee, friend: Artof this house? D 2
Kent. If I had thee in Lipsbury pinfold, I would
Kent. A knave, a rascal, an eater of broken meats, a base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three-suited hundred-pound, filthy worsted-stocking knave; a lilyliver'd, action-taking knave; a whorefon, glass-gazing, fuper-serviceable, finical rogue ; one-trunkinlreriting slave; one that would'st be a bawd, in way of good service, and art nothing but the composition of a knave, beggar, coward, pandar, and the fon and heir of a mongrel bitch: one whom I will beat into clamorous whining, if thou deny'st the least syllable of thy addition.
Stew. Why, what a monstrous fellow art thou, thus to rail on one, that is neither known of thee, nor knows thee?
Kent. What a brazen-fac'd varlet art thou, to deny thou know'st me? Is it two days ago, since I tript up thy heels, and beat thee, before the king? Draw, you rogue; for, though it be night, yet the moon shines; I'll make a fop o’the moonshine of you: Draw you whoresoncullionly barber-mong
[Drawing his sword. Stew. Away ; I have nothing to do with thee. Kent. Draw, you rascal: you come with letters
against the king, and take vanity, the puppet's part, against the royalty of her father: Draw, you rogue, or I'll fo carbonado your thanks :-draw, you rascal; come your ways.
Stew. Help, ho! murder ! help!
Kent. Strike, you slave ; ftand, rogue, stand ; you neat flave, strike.
[Beating him. Stew. Help, ho! murder! murder ! Enter EDMUND, CORNWALL, REGAN, GLOSTER,
and Servants, Edm. How now? What's the matter? Part.
Kent. With you, goodmanboy, if you please;come, I'll flesh you; come on, young master.
Glo. Weapons! arms! What's the matter here?
Corn. Keep peace, upon your lives; He dies, that strikes again : What's the matter?
Reg. The messengers from our sister and the king. Corn. What is
difference? speak. Stew. I am scarce in breath, my lord.
Kent. Nomarvel, you have fo beftir'd your valour. You cowardly rascal, nature disclaims in thee;. o tailor made thee.
Corn. Thou art a strange fellow : A tailor make a man?
Kent. Ay, a tailor, fir : a stone-catter, or a painter, could not have made him so ill, though they had been but two hours at the trade.
Corn. Speak yet, how grew your quarrel?
Stew. This ancient ruffian, sir, whose life I have At suit of his grey beard
[spar'd, Kent. Thou whoreson zed! thou unnecessary letter ! My lord, if you will give me leave, I will tread this unbolted villain into mortar, and D 3
daub the wall of a jakes with him.--Spare my grey beard, you wagtail !
Corn. Peace, firrah !
Kent. Yes, fir; but anger hath a privilege.
Kent. Thatsuch aslaveasthisshould wear a sword,
Corn. What, art thou mad, old fellow?
Kent. No contraries hold more antipathy,
his offence ? Kent. His countenance likes me not. Corn. No more, perchance, does mine, or his,
or hers. Kent. Sir, 'tis my occupation to be plain ; I have seen better faces in
time Than stand on any shoulder that I see Before me at this instant.
Corn. This is fome fellow, Who, having been prais'd for bluntness, doth affect