Alb. What's the matter, sir? Lear. I'll tell thee;-Life and death! I am asham'd That thou hast power to shake my manhood thus: [To Goneril. 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 [Exeunt Lear, Kent, and Attendants. Gon. Pray you, content.-What, Oswald, ho! You, sir, more knave than fool, after your mas[To the Fool. Fool. Nuncle Lear, nuncle Lear, tarry, and take the fool with thee. ter. 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. [Exit. Gon. This man hath had good counsel:-A hundred knights! 'Tis politic, and safe, to let him keep Each buz, each fancy, each complaint, dislike, Let me still take away the harms I fear, SCENE V.-Court before the same. Enter LEAR, KENT, and Fool. Lear. Go you before to Gloster with these letters: acquaint my daughter no further with any thing you know, than comes from her demand out of the letter: If your diligence be not speedy, I shall be there before you. Kent. I will not sleep, my lord, till I have delivered your letter. [Ent. Fool. If a man's brains were in his heels, were't not in danger of kibes? Lear. Ay, boy. Fool. Then, I pr'ythee, be merry; thy wit shall not go slip-shod. Lear. Ha, ha, ha! Lear. I will forget my nature.-So kind a father!-Be my horses ready? Fool. Thy asses are gone about 'em. The reason why the seven stars are no more than seven, is a pretty reason. Lear. Because they are not eight? Fool. Yes, indeed: Thou would'st make a good fool. Lear. To take it again, perforce !-Monster ingratitude! Fool. If thou wert my fool, nuncle, I'd have thee beaten for being old before thy time. Lear. How's that? Fool. Thou should'st not have been old, be fore thou hadst been wise. Lear. O let me not be mad, not mad, sweet heaven! Keep me in temper: I would not be mad! Enter Gentleman. How now! Are the horses ready? Gent. Ready, my lord. Lear. Come, boy. Fool. She that is maid now, and laughs at my departure, Shall not be a maid long, unless things be cut. shorter. [Exeunt. ACT II. SCENE I-A court within the castle of the Earl of GLOSTER. Enter EDMUND and CUBAN, meeting. Edm. Save thee, Curan. Cur. And you, sir. I have been with your father; and given him notice, that the duke of Cornwall, and Regan his duchess, will be here with him to-night. Edm. How comes that ? Cur. Nay, I know not: You have heard of the news abroad; I mean the whispered ones, for they are yet but ear-kissing arguments? Edm. Not I; 'Pray you, what are they? Cur. Have you heard of no likely wars toward, 'twixt the dukes of Cornwall and Albany? Edm. Not a word. Cur. You may then, in time. Fare you well, sir, [Exit. Edm. The duke be here to-night? The better! Best! This weaves itself perforce into my business! My father hath set guard to take my brother; And I have one thing, of a queazy question, Which I must act :-Briefness, and fortune, work! Brother, a word;-descend:-Brother, I say; My father watches :-O sir, fly this place: He's coming hither; now i'the night, i'the haste, Edg. I am sure on't, not a word. Edm. I hear my father coming,-Pardon me:In cunning I must draw my sword upon you:Draw: Seem to defend yourself: Now quit you well. Yield;-come before my father :-Light, ho, here! Fly, brother:-Torches! torches !-So, farewell.[Exit Edgar. Some blood drawn on me would beget opinion [Wounds his arm. Of my more fierce endeavour: I have seen drunkards Do more than this in sport.-Father! father! Stop, stop! No help? Enter GLOSTER, and Servants with torches. Glo. Now, Edmund, where's the villain? Edm. Here stood he in the dark, his sharp sword out, Mumbling of wicked charms, conjuring the moon Glo. But where is he? Glo. Where is the villain, Edmund ? Glo. Pursue him, ho!-Go after.-[Exit Serv. By no means,-what? Edm. Persuade me to the murder of your lordship; But that I told him, the revenging gods master, My worthy arch and patron, comes to-night: By his authority I will proclaim it, That he, which finds him, shall deserve our thanks, Bringing the murderous coward to the stake; He, that conceals him, death, Edm. When I dissuaded him from his intent, And found him pight to do it, with curst speech I threaten'd to discover him: he replied, Thou unpossessing bastard! dost thou think, If I would stand against thee, would the reposal Öf any trust, virtue, or worth, in thee Make thy words faith'd? No: what I should deny, I will send far and near, that all the kingdom May have due note of him; and of my land, Loyal 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 news. Reg. If it be true, all vengeance comes too short, Which can pursue the offender. How dost, my lord? Glo. O, madam, my old heart is crack'd, is crack'd! Reg. What, did my father's godson seek your life? He, whom my father nam'd? your Edgar? Glo. O, lady, lady, shame would have it hid! Reg. Was he not companion with the riotous knights, That tend upon my father? Glo. I know not, madam: It is too bad, too bad. Edm. Yes, madam, he was. Reg. No marvel then, though he were ill affected; 'Tis they have put him on the old man's death, cautions, That, if they come to sojourn at my house, I'll not be there. Corn. Nor I, assure thee, Regan. | So much commend itself, you shall be ours Natures of such deep trust we shall much need; You we first seize on. Edm. I shall serve you, sir, Truly, however else. Glo. For him I thank your grace. Corn. You know not why we came to visit you, Reg. Thus out of season; threading darkey'd night. Occasions, noble Gloster, of some poize, From hence attend despatch. Our good old friend, Glo. I serve you, madam : [Exeunt. SCENE II.-Before GLOSTER's castle. Enter KENT and Steward, severally. Stew. Good dawning to thee, friend: Art of the house? Kent. Ay. Stew. Where may we set our horses? Stew. Pr'ythee, if thou love me, tell me. Stew. Why, then I care not for thee. Kent. If I had thee in Lipsbury pinfold, I would make thee care for me. Stew, Why dost thou use me thus? I know thee not. Kent. Fellow, I know thee. Stew. What dost thou know me for? Kent. A knave; a rascal, an eater of broken meats; a base, proud, shallow, beggarly, threesuited, hundred-pound, filthy worsted-stocking knave; a lily-liver'd, action-taking knave; a whorson, glass-gazing, superserviceable, finical rogue; one-trunk-inheriting slave; one that would'st be a bawd, in way of good service, and art nothing but the composition of a knave, beggar, coward, pander, and the son and heir of a mongrel bitch: one whom I will beat into clamorous whining, if thou deniest the least syl Edmund, I hear that you have shown your father lable of thy addition. A child-like office. 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-faced varlet art thou, to deny thou know'st me? Is it two days ago, since I tripped up thy heels, and beat thee, before the king? Draw, you rogue; for, though it be night, the moon shines; I'll make a sop o'the moonshine of you: Draw, you whorson cullionly barber-monger, draw. [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 so carbonado your shanks-draw, you rascal; come your ways. Stew. Help, ho! murder! help! Kent. Strike, you slave; stand, rogue, stand; you neat slave, 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, goodman boy, 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 is the matter? Reg. The messengers from our sister and the king. Corn. What is your difference? speak. Stew, I am scarce in breath, my lord. Kent. No marvel, you have so bestirred your valour. You cowardly rascal, nature disclaims in thee; a tailor made thee. Corn. Thou art a strange fellow: a tailor make a man? Kent. Ay, a tailor, sir: a stone-cutter, 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 spar'd, At suit of his grey beard,— Kent. Thou whorson zed! thou unnecessary letter! My lord, if you will give me leave, I will tread this unbolted villain into mortar, and daub the wall of a jakes with him.-Spare my grey beard, you wagtail! Corn. Peace, sirrah! You beastly knave, know you no reverence? Kent. That such a slave as this should wear a sword, Who wears no honesty. Such smiling rogues as these, Like rats, oft bite the holy cords atwain, Which are too intrinse t' unloose: smooth every passion That in the natures of their lords rebels; Corn. What, art thou mad, old fellow? Glo. How fell you out? Say that. Kent. No contraries hold more antipathy, Than I and such a knave. Corn. Why dost thou call him knave? What's Kent. His countenance likes me not. Kent. Sir, 'tis my occupation to be plain; Corn. This is some fellow, Who, having been prais'd for bluntness, doth affect A saucy roughness; and constrains the garb, Quite from his nature: He cannot flatter, he!-An honest mind and plain,-he must speak truth: An they will take it, so; if not, he's plain. These kind of knaves I know, which in this plainness Harbour more craft, and more corrupter ends, Kent. Sir, in good sooth, in sincere verity, Under the allowance of your grand aspéct, Whose influence, like the wreath of radiant fire On flickering Phoebus' front, Corn. What mean'st by this? Kent. To go out of my dialect, which you discommend so much. I know, sir, I am no flatterer: he, that beguiled you in a plain accent, was a plain knave; which, for my part, I will not be, though I should win your displeasure to entreat me to it. Corn. What was the offence you gave him? It pleas'd the king his master, very late, Kent. None of these rogues, and cowards, Corn. Fetch forth the stocks, ho! You stubborn ancient knave, you reverend braggart, We'll teach you Kent. Sir, I am too old to learn ; Call not your stocks for me: I serve the king; Corn. Fetch forth the stocks! As I've life and honour, there shall he sit till noon. J Reg. Till noon! till night, my lord; and all night too. Kent. Why, madam, if I were your father's dog, You should not use me so. Reg. Sir, being his knave, I will. Stocks brought out. Corn. This is a fellow of the self-same colour Our sister speaks of:-Come, bring away the stocks. Glo. Let me beseech your grace not to do so: His fault is much, and the good king his master Will check him for't: your purpos'd low cor | Escap'd the hunt. No port is free; no place, Blanket my loins; elf all my hair in knots, Enforce their charity.-Poor Turlygood! poor That's something yet;-Edgar I nothing_am. SCENE IV.-Before GLOSTER's castle. Esit |