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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

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 ?
Gl.. Ay, my good lord.

Corn. If he be taken, he shall never more
Be fear'd of doing harm: make your own purpose,
Howin my strength you pleale.-- For you, Edmund,
Whose virtue and obedience doth this instant
So much commend itself, you Thall be ours;
Natures of such deep trust we shall much need;
You we first seize on.

Edm. I hall serve you, fir,
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 dark-ey'd
Occalions noble Glofter, of some prize, [night:
Wherein we must have use of your advice :
Our father' he hath writ, fo hath our filtsr,
Of differences, which I best thought it fit
To answer from our home; the several messengers
From hence attend dispatch. Our good old friend,
Lay comforts to your bofom; and bestow
Your needful counsel to our businesses,
Which crave the instant use.

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. Ay.
Stew. Where may we set our horses?
K'ent. th’ mire.
Stew. Pr’ythee, if thou love me, tell me.
Kent. I love thee not.
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 methus? Iknowtheenot.
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, 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


er, draw.

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 !
You beastly knave, know you no reverence?

Kent. Yes, fir; but anger hath a privilege.
Corn. Why art thou angry?

Kent. Thatsuch aslaveasthisshould wear a sword,
Who wearsno honesty. Such smiling rogues as these
Like rats, oft bite the holy cords in twain
Too intrinsicate t’ unloose : footh every passion
That in the nature of their lords rebels;
Bring oil to fire, snow to their colder moods;
Renege, affirm, and turn their halcyon beaks
With every gale and vary of their masters;
Knowing nought, like dogs, but following:
A plague upon your epileptic visage!
Smile you my speeches, as I were a fool?
Goose, if I had you upon Sarum plain,
I'd drive ye cackling home to Camelot.

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

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

A faucy

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