My unprovided body, lanced mine arm. Glo. Let him fly far: Not in this land shall he remain uncaught; And found, despatch. The noble duke That he which finds him shall deserve our thanks, Edm. When I dissuaded him from his intent, And found him pight to do it, with curst speech I threatened to discover him: he replied, "Thou unpossessing bastard! dost thou think, If I would stand against thee, would the reposal Of any trust, virtue, or worth, in thee, Make thy words faithed? No: what should I deny (As this I would; ay, though thou didst produce My very character), I'd turn it all To thy suggestion, plot, and damnéd practice: Glo. Strong and fastened villain! Would he deny his letter?-I never got him. [Trumpets within. Hark, the duke's trumpets! I know not why he comes. All ports I'll bar; the villain shall not 'scape: 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 cracked; it's cracked! Reg. What, did my father's godson seek your life! He, whom my father named? your Edgar! Gio. 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: 'tis too bad, too bad. Edm. Yes, madam, he was of that consort. Reg. No marvel, then, though he were ill affected: 'Tis they have put him on the old man's death, That, if they come to sojourn at my house, Corn. Nor I, assure thee, Regan.- It was my duty, sir. Glo. For him I thank your grace. Occasions, noble Gloster, of some poize, [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'y thee, 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-livered, action-taking knave; a whoreson, glass-gazing, superserviceable, finical rogue; one-trunk-inheriting slave; one that wouldst 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 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-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 whoreson 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! Corn. What is your difference? speak. Kent. No marvel, you have so bestirred your valour. You cowardly rascal, nature disclaims in thee: a tailor made thee. Cora. Thou art a strange fellow : a tailor make a man? That in the natures of their lords rebels; Kent. No contraries hold more antipathy Corn. Why dost thou call him knave? What's his offence? Kent. His countenance likes me not. Kent. Sir, 't is my occupation to be plain : Corn. plainness Harbour more craft and more corrupter ends 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 pleased the king his master, very late, 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 purposed low correction Is such as basest and contemned'st wretches, For pilferings and most common trespasses, Are punished with. The king must take it ill, That he, so slightly valued in his messenger, Should have him thus restrained. To have her gentleman abused, assaulted, For following her affairs.-Put in his legs. [KENT is put in the stocks. Come, my good lord; away. [Exeunt REGAN and CORNWALL. Glo. I am sorry for thee, friend: 't is the duke's pleasure, Whose disposition, all the world well knows, Will not be rubbed nor stopped. I'll entreat for thee. Kent. Pray, do not, sir. I have watched and travelled hard · Some time I shall sleep out; the rest I'll whistle. Glo. The duke's to blame in this: 't will be mon saw; Thou out of heaven's benediction com'st Approach, thou beacon to this under globe, Take vantage, heavy eyes, not to behold Fortune, good night: smile once more; turn SCENE III-A Part of the Heath. Edg. I heard myself proclaimed; Blanket my loins; elf all my hair in knots; Your son and daughter. Lear. No. Kent. Yes. Lear. No, I say. Kent. I say, yea. Lear. No, no; they would not. They could not, would not do 't: 't is worse than murder, To do upon respect such violent outrage. Resolve me, with all modest haste, which way Thou mightst deserve, or they impose, this usage, Coming from us. Kent. My lord, when at their home I did commend your highness' letters to them, From Goneril his mistress, salutations: Commanded me to follow, and attend The leisure of their answer; gave me cold looks: Fool. Winter's not gone yet, if the wild geese fly that way. Fathers that wear rags Do make their children blind; But fathers that bear bags Shall see their children kind. Fortune, that arrant whore, Ne'er turns the key to the poor.— But for all this, thou shalt have as many dolours for thy daughters as thou carst tell in a year. Lear. O, how this mother swells up toward my heart! Hysterica passio!-Down, thou climbing sorrow, [Exit. Gent. Made you no more offence than what you speak of? How chance the king comes with so small a train? Fool. We'll set thee to school to an ant, to teach thee there's no labouring in the winter. All that follow their noses are led by their eyes, but blind men; and there's not a nose among twenty but can smell him that's stinking. Let go thy hold when a great wheel runs down a hill, lest it break thy neck with following it: but the great one that goes up the hill, let him draw thee after. When a wise man gives thee better counsel, give me mine again: I would have none but knaves follow it, since a fool gives it. That sir which serves and seeks for gain, And leave thee in the storm. Re-enter LEAR, with GLOSTER. They have travelled hard to-night? Mere fetches; |