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fuper - serviceable, finical rogue; one-trunk- inheriting flave; one that would'st be a bawd in way of good service; and art nothing but the compofition of a knave, beggar, coward, pander, and the son and heir of a mungril bitch ; one whom I will beat into clam'rous whining, if thou deny 'ft the least fyllable 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'ft me? is it two days ago, since I tript up thy heels, and beat thee before the King ? draw, you rogue; for tho' it be night, yet the moon shines ; I'll make a fop o’th' moonshine of you ; 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 fo carbonado your Thanks
draw, you rascal, come your ways.
Stew. Help, ho! murther! help!
Kent. Strike, you slave; stand, rogue, stand, you neat slave, ftrike.
[Beating him. Stew. Help ho! murther! murther ! Enter Edmund, Cornwall, Regan, Glo'ster, and
Kent. With you, goodman boy, if you please; come; I'll filesh ye; 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 fifter and the King ? Corn. What is your difference: speak. Stew. I am scarce in breath, my lord.
Kent. No marvel, you have so beftir'd your valour ; you cowardly rascal ! nature disclaims all share in thee : a tailor made thee.
my lord, if
Corn. Thou art a strange fellow; a tailor make a man?
Kent. I, a tailor, Sir; a stone-cutter, or a painter could not have made him so ill, tho' they had been but two hours o'th' 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 Kont. Thou whorson zed! thou unnecessary letter!
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!
Kent. Yes, Sir, but anger hath a privilege.
Kent. That such a slave as this shou'd wear a sword,
(8) Like rats, oft bite the holy Cords atwaine, Which are t'intrince, t' unloose ; ] Thus the first Editors blunder'd ihis Passage into unintelligible Nonsense. Mr. Pope so far has disengag'd them, as to give us plain Sense; but by throwing out the Epithet boly, 'tis evident, he was not aware of the Poet's fine Meaning. I'll first eftablish and prove the Reading; then explain the Allusion. Thus the Poet gave it ;
Like rats, oft bite the holy Cords in i wain,
Too 'intrinsicate t’unlooseIt means, inward, hidden; perplext; as a Knot, hard to be unravelld; it is deriv'd from the Latin adverb intrinfecùs; from which the Italians have coin'd a very beautiful Phrase, intrin. ficarsi col uno, i. e. to grow intimate with, to wind one self into another. And now to our Author's Sense. Kent is rating the Steward, as a Parasite of Gonerill's; and supposes very justly, that he has fomented the Quarrel berwise that Princess and her Father: in which Office, he compares him to a sacrilegious Rat: and by a fine Metaphor, as Mr. Warburton observed to nie; files the Union between Parents and Children the holy Cords,
Bring oil to fire, snow to their colder moods ;
Corn. What art thou mad, old fellow!
Kent. No contraries hold more antipathy,
Corn. Why dost thou call him knave ? what is his fault?
Corn. This is some fellow,
Kent. Sir, in good faith, in fincere verity, Under th’allowance of your grand aspect, Whose influence, like the wreath of radiant fire On flickering Phæbus' front
Corn. What mean'st by this?
Kent. To go out of my dialect, which you discommend fo much: I know, Sir, I am no flatterer ; he, that beguild you
a plain accent, was a plain knave ; which for my part I will not be, though I should win your displeasure to intreat me to’t.
Corn. What was th' offence you gave him?
Kent. None of these rogues and cowards,
Corn. Fetch forth the Stocks.
Kent. Sir, I am too old to learn :
Corn. Fetch forth the Stocks;
Reg. 'Till noon! till night, my lord, and all night too.
Kent. Why, Madam, if I were your father's dog, You could not use me so.
Reg. Sir, being his knave, I will. [Stocks brought out.
Corn. This is a fellow of the self-fame nature
Glo. Let me beseech your Grace not to do so;
Corn. l'll answer that.
To have her Gentleman abus'd, assaulted,
[Kent is put in the Stocks. Come, my lord, away.
[Exeunt Regan and Cornwall. Glo. I'm sorry for thee, friend ; 'tis the Duke's pleasure, Whose disposition, all the world well knows, Will not be rubb'd nor stop?d. I'll intreat for thee. Kent. Pray, do not, Sir. I've watch'd and travellid
hard ; Some time I shall sleep out, the rest I'll whistle : A good man's fortune may grow out at heels ; Give you good morrow. Glo. The Duke's to blame in this, 'twill be ill taken.
[Exit. Kent. Good King, that must approve the common Saw, Thou out of heaven's benediction com'ft To the warm fun! Approach, thou beacon to this under-globe,
[ Looking up to the moon. That by thy comfortable beams i may Peruse this letter. Nothing almost sees miracles, But misery. I know, 'tis from Cordelia ; Who hath most fortunately been informid Of my
obscured course. I shall find time From this enormous state, and seek to give Losses their remedies. All weary and o'er-watch'd, Take vantage, heavy eyes, not to behold This shameful lodging. Fortune, good night; smile once more, turn thy wheel.
SCENE changes to a part of a Heath.
And, by the happy hollow of a tree,