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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 rafcal; come your ways.

Stew. Help, ho! murder! help!

Kent. Strike, you flave; ftand, rogue, stand ; you neat flave, ftrike.

[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 ftrikes again: What's the matter?
Reg. The meffengers from our fifter and the king.
Corn. What is your difference? fpeak.
Stew. I am fearce in breath, my lord.

Kent. Nomarvel, you have so beftir'd your valour.
You cowardly rafcal, nature difclaims in thee;
A tailor made thee.

Corn. Thou art a ftrange fellow:

A tailor make a man?

Kent. Ay, a tailor, fir: a ftone-cutter, or a painter, could not have made him fo ill, though they had been but two hours at the trade.

Corn. Speak yet, how grew your quarrel? Stew. This ancient ruffian, fir, whofe life I have At fuit of his grey beard

[fpar'd, Kent. Thou whorefon zed thou unneceffary letter!My lord, if you will give me leave, I will tread this unbolted villain into mortar, and

D 3

daub

daub the wall of a jakes with him.

grey beard, you wagtail!

Corn. Peace, firrah!

-Spare my

You beaftly knave, know you no reverence?
Kent. Yes, fir; but anger hath a privilege.
Corn. Why art thou angry?

Kent. Thatfuch a flave as this fhould wear a fword,
Who wears no honefty. Suchfmiling rogues as thefe
Like rats, oft bite the holy cords in twain
Too intrinficate t' unloofe: footh every paffion
That in the nature of their lords rebels;
Bring oil to fire, fnow 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 fpeeches, 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? fay that.

Kent. No contraries hold more antipathy, Than I and fuch a knave.

Corn. Why doft 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 feen better faces in my time

Than ftand on any shoulder that I fee
Before me at this inftant.

Corn. This is fome fellow,

Who, having been prais'd for bluntnefs, doth affect

A faucy

A faucy roughness; and constrains the garb,
Quite from his nature: He cannot flatter, he!-
An honeft mind and plain-he muft fpeak truth:
An they will take it, fo; if not, he's plain.
Thefe kind of knaves I know, which in this plainnefs
Harbour more craft, and more corrupter ends,
Than twenty filly ducking obfervants,
That ftretch their duties nicely.

Kent. Sir, in good footh, or in fincere verity, Under the allowance of your grand aspect, Whofe influence, like the wreath of radiant fire On flickering Phœbus front

Corn. What mean'st thou by this?

Kent. To go out of my dialect, which you dif commend fo much. I know, fir, I am no flatterer: he that beguil'd you, in a plain accent, was a plain knave; which, for my part, I will not be, though I fhould win your displeasure to entreat

me to it.

Corn. What was the offence you gave him?
Stew. I never gave him any :

It pleas'd the king his master, very late,
To ftrike at me, upon his misconstruction;
When he, conjunct, and flattering his displeasure,
Trip'd me behind; being down, infulted, rail'd,
And put upon him fuch a deal of man, that
That worthy'd him, got praises of the king
For him attempting who was felf-fubdu'd;
And, in the fleshment of this dread exploit,
Drew on me here again.

Kent. None of thofe rogues, and cowards,
But Ajax is their fool.

Corn. Fetch forth the ftocks, ho!

You ftubborn ancient knave, you reverend braggart,

We'll

We'll teach you——

Kent. Sir, I am too old to learn:

Call not your stocks for me: I ferve the king;
On whofe employment I was fent to you:
You fhall do fmall respect, fhew too bold malice
Against the grace and perfon of my master,
Stocking his meffenger.

Corn. Fetch forth the ftocks:

As I have life and honour, there fhall he fit 'till noon. Reg. 'Till noon! 'till night, my lord; and all night too.

Kent. Why, madam, if I were your father's dog, You fhould not use me fo.

Reg. Sir, being his knave, I will. [Stocks brought out. Corn. This is a fellow of the felf-fame colour Our fifter fpeaks of :--Come, bring away the ftocks.

Glo. Let me befeech your grace not to do fo: His fault is much, and the good king his master Will check him for't: your purpos'd low correction Is fuch, as bafest and the meaneft wretches, For pilferings and most common trefpaffes, Are punifh'd with: the king must take it ill, That he, fo flightly valu'd in his meffenger, Should have him thus reftrain'd.

Corn. I'll anfwer that.

Reg. My fifter may receive it much more worse, To have her gentleman abus'd, affaulted, For following her affairs.-Put in his legs.

[KENT is put in the flocks.

Come, my good lord: away.

[Exeunt REGAN and CORNWALL.

Glo. I am forry for thee, friend; 'tis the duke's

pleasure,

Whofe difpofition, all the world well knows,

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Will not be rubb'd, nor ftopp'd: I'll entreat for thee. Kent. Pray, do not, fir: I have watch'd, and travell'd hard;

Some time I fhall fleep 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 muft approve the com

mon faw!

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

Perufe this letter!-Nothing almoft fees miracles; But mifery-I know, 'tis from Cordelia ;

[Reading the Letter. Who hath most fortunately been inform'd Of my obfcured courfe;and fhall find time, From this enormous flate feeking to give Lafes their remedies;— -All weary and o'erwatch'd, Take 'vantage, heavy eyes not to behold This fhameful lodging.

Fortune, good night; fmile once more; turn thy wheel!

[He fleeps.

SCENE III. A Part of the Heath.

Enter EDGAR.

Edg. I heard myself proclaim'd;

And, by the happy hollow of a tree,

Efcap'd the hunt. No port is free; no place,
That guard, and moft unusual vigilance,

Does

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