Edmund, I hear, that you have fhewn your father A child-like office. Edm. 'Twas my duty, fir. Glo. He did reveal his practice, and receiv'd This hurt you fee, ftriving to apprehend him. Corn. Is he purfu'd? Glo. Ay, my good lord. Corn. If he be taken, he fhall never more Be fear'd of doing harm. As for you, Edmund, Whofe virtue and obedience doth this inftant So much commend itself, you shall be ours: Natures of fuch deep truft we shall much need. Edm. I fhall ferve you, fir, truly, however elfe. Glo. I thank your grace. Reg. Our father he hath writ, fo hath our fifter, Of diff'rences, which I best thought it fit To answer from our home: the fev'ral meffengers From hence attend dispatch. Our good old friend, Lay comforts to your bofom; and bestow Your needful counfel to our bufineffes, Which crave the inftant ufe. Glo. I ferve you, madam. Enter Steward and Kent, with fwords drawn. 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? Kent. No marvel, you have fo beftir'd your valour; you cowardly rafcal! nature difclaims all fhare 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 o'th' trade. Corn. Speak yet, how grew your quarrel? Stew. Stew. This ancient ruffian, fir, whofe life I have fpar'd at fuit of his grey beard Kent. Thou whorfon zed! thou unneceffary 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, firrah! Know you no reverence? Kent. That fuch a flave as this fhou'd wear a Who wears no honefty: fuch fmiling rogues as these, Kent. No contraries hold more antipathy, Corn. Why doft thou call him knave? what is his fault? Kent. His countenance likes me not. Corn. No more, perchance, does mine, nor his, nor hers. Kent. Sir, 'tis my occupation to be plain; I have feen better faces in my time, Than ftand on any fhoulders that I fee Corn. This is fome fellow, Who having been prais'd for bluntnefs, doth affect A fawcy A fawcy roughness; and conftrains the garb, Kent. Sir, in good faith, in fincere verity, Under th' allowance of your grand afpect, Whofe influence, like the wreath of radiant fire On flickering Phoebus' front Corn. What mean'ft by this? Kent. To go out of my dialect, which you difcommend so 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 difpleafure to intreat me to't. Corn What was th' offence you gave him? It pleas'd the King his mafter very lately For him attempting who was felf-fubdu'd; Kent. None of thefe rogues and cowards, Corn. Fetch forth the ftocks! You ftubborn ancient knave, you rev'rend braggart, We'll teach you Kent. Sir, I am too old to learn: Call not your stocks for me; I ferve the King; You fhall do fmall refpect, fhew too bold malice my mafter, Corn. Corn. Fetch forth the stocks; 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 could not ufe me fo. Reg. Sir, being his knave, I will. [Stocks brought out. Corn. This is a fellow of the felf fame nature Our fifter speaks 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 it; but muft take it ill To be thus flighted in his meffenger. Corn. I'll answer that. Reg. My fifter may receive it worse," To have her gentleman abus'd, affaulted. Come, my lord, away. [Kent is put in the stocks. [Exeunt Reg and Corn. friend; 'tis the Duke's Whose difpofition, all the world well knows, Some time I shall fleep out, the rest I'll whistle: Glo. The Duke's to blame in this, 'twill be ill taken. [Exit. Kent. Approach, thou beacon to this under[Looking up to the moon. That by thy comfortable beams I may globe, Perufe this letter. I know, 'tis from Cordelia; Of my obfcure course. All weary and.o'er watch'd, Take vantage heavy eyes, not to behold Fortune, good night; fmile once more, wheel. turn thy [Sleeps. SCENE SCENE changes to a part of a Heath. Edg. I've heard myself proclaim'd; Brought near to beaft: my face I will befmear, The winds, and perfecutions of the sky. Kent in the flocks. Enter Lear and Attendants. Lear. 'Tis ftrange, that they should fo depart from home, And not fend back my meffenger. Kent. Hail to thee, noble mafter!. Lear. Ha! mak'ft thou thy fhame thy paftime? Kent. No, my lord. Lear. What's he, that hath fo much thy place miftook, |