Glo. O, madam, my old heart is crack'd, is

crack'd!

Reg. What, did my father's godson seek your life?

He whom my father nam'd? your Edgar?

Glo. 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 :

Yes, madam, he was.

Reg. No marvel then, though he were ill affected; 'Tis they have put him on the old man's death, To have the waste and spoil 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 sojourn at my house,

I'll not be there.

Corn.

Nor I, assure thee, Regan.

Edmund, I hear that

A child-like office.

Edm.

you have shown your father

'Twas my duty, sir.

Glo. He did bewray his practice'; and receiv'd This hurt you see, striving to apprehend him. Corn. Is he pursued?

Glo.

Ay, my good lord, he is. Corn. If he be taken, he shall never more

Be fear'd of doing harm: make your own purpose, How in my strength you please. For you, Ed

mund,

Whose virtue and obedience doth this instant
So much commend itself, you shall be ours;
Natures of such deep trust we shall much need;
You we first seize on.

Edm.
Truly, however else.

I shall serve you, sir,

5 Wicked purpose.

Glo. For him I thank your grace.

you,

Corn. You know not why we came to visit
Reg. Thus out of season; threading dark-ey'd
night.

Occasions, noble Gloster, of some poize",
Wherein we must have use of your advice:
Our father he hath writ, so hath our sister,
Of differences, which I best thought it fit
To answer from our home; the several messengers
From hence attend despatch. Our good old friend,
Lay comforts to your bosom; and bestow

Your needful counsel to our business,

Which craves the instant use.

Glo.

I serve you, madam :

[Exeunt.

Your graces are right welcome.

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?

Kent. I' the mire.

Stew. Pr'y thee, if thou love me,

Kent. I love thee not.

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, worsted-stocking knave; a lily-liver'd, action-taking knave; a glass-gazing, superserviceable, finical rogue; one-trunk-inheriting slave; nothing but the composition of a knave, beggar, and coward: 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-faced varlet art thou, to deny thou know'st me? Is it two days ago, since I tripp'd 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 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 shanks: your rascal; come your ways.

Stew. Help, ho! murder! help!

-draw

you

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. Kent. With you, goodman boy, 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 is the matter?

7 Titles.

8 A character in the old moralities.

Reg. The messengers from our sister and the king.

Corn. What is your difference? speak.

Stew. I am scarce in breath, my lord.

Kent. No marvel, you have so bestirr'd your valour. You cowardly rascal, nature disclaims in thee; a tailor made thee.

Corn. Thou art a strange fellow: a tailor make a man?

Kent. Ay, a tailor, sir; a stone-cutter, 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 spar'd,

At suit of his grey beard,

Kent. Thou zed! thou unnecessary letter! My lord, if you will give me leave, I will tread this unbolted villain into mortar, and daub the wall with him. Spare my grey beard, you wagtail? Corn. Peace, sirrah!

You beastly knave, know you no reverence?
Kent. Yes, sir; but anger has a privilege.
Corn. Why art thou angry?

Kent. That such a slave as this should wear a sword,

Who wears no honesty. Such smiling rogues as these,

Like rats, oft bite the holy cords atwain

Which are too intrinse' t' unloose: smooth every passion

That in the natures of their lords rebels ;
Bring oil to fire, snow to their colder moods;
Renege, affirm, and turn their halcyon 3 beaks

9 Unrefined.

1 Perplexed.

2 Disown.

s The bird called the king-fisher, which, when dried and hung up by a thread, is supposed to turn his bill to the point from whence the wind blows.

With every gale and vary of their masters,
As knowing nought, like dogs, but following.—
A plague upon your epileptick 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. Say that.

How fell you out?

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 my time,

Than stands on any shoulder that I see
Before me at this instant.

Corn.

This is some fellow,

Who, having been prais'd for bluntness, doth affect
A saucy roughness; and constrains the garb,
Quite from his nature: He cannot flatter, he!
An honest mind and plain, he must speak truth:
And they will take it, so; if not, he 's plain.
These kind of knaves I know, which in this plain-

ness

Harbour more craft, and more corrupter ends,
Than twenty silly ducking observants,
That stretch their duties nicely.

Kent. Sir, in good sooth, in sincere verity,
Under the allowance of your grand aspéct,
Whose influence, like the wreath of radiant fire
On flickering Phoebus' front, -

4 In Somersetshire, where are bred great quantities of geese.