Edm. Persuade me to the murder of your lordship; But that I told him, the revenging gods Glo. Let him fly far: Not in this land shall he remain uncaught; And found-Despatch. master, 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 The noble duke my Be fear'd of doing harm: make your own purpose, How in my strength you please. — For you, Ed My worthy arch and patron, comes to-night : That he, which finds him, shall deserve our thanks, Edm. When I dissuaded him from his intent, Make thy words faith'd? No: what I should deny, To thy suggestion, plot, and damned practice: Glo. Strong and fasten'd villain! Would he deny his letter? I never got him. [Trumpets within. Hark, the duke's trumpets! I know not why he comes: mund, 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'ythee, 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 broker meats; a base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three-suital hundred-pound, filthy worsted-stocking kasse; lily-liver'd, action-taking knave; a whorsen, gla gazing, superserviceable, finical rogue; one-tr inheriting slave; one that would'st be a bawd way of good service, and art nothing but the c position of a knave, beggar, coward, pander, the son and heir of a mongrel bitch: one who will beat into clamorous whining, if thou desys 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 whorson 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, 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? He dies, that strikes again: What is the matter? Reg. The messengers from our sister and the king. Corn. What is your difference? speak. 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 whoreson zed! thou unnecessary 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, sirrah! You beastly knave, know you no reverence? Kent: That such a slave as this should wear a sword, How fell you out? Corn. What, art thou mad, old fellow? Kent. No contraries hold more antipathy, 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; 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: An they will take it, so; if not, he's plain. These kind of knaves I know, which in this plainness Harbour more craft, and more corrupter ends, 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 Phœbus' front, Corn. What mean'st by this? 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? Stew. Never any: It pleas'd the king his master, very late, Kent. None of these rogues, and cowards, But Ajax is their fool. Corn. Fetch forth the stocks, ho! You stubborn ancient knave, you reverent braggart, We'll teach you - Kent. Sir, I am too old to learn: Call not your stocks for me: I serve the king; On whose employment I was sent to you: You shall do small respect, show too bold malice Against the grace and person of my master, Who wears no honesty. Such smiling rogues as Stocking his messenger. these, ike rats, oft bite the holy cords atwain Which are too intrinse t'unloose: smooth every passion hat in the natures of their lords rebels; Ering oil to fire, snow to their colder moods; Cenege, affirm, and turn their halcyon beaks With every gale and vary of their masters, s knowing nought, like dogs, but following.. plague upon your epileptick visage! ile you my speeches, as I were a fool? oose, if I had you upon Sarum plain, d drive ye cackling home to Camelot. 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; 'tis the duke's pleasure, Whose disposition, all the world well knows, Will not be rubb'd, nor stopp'd: I'll entreat for thee. Kent. Pray, do not, sir: I have watch'd, and travell'd hard; Some time I shall sleep 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 must approve the common saw ! Thou out of heaven's benediction com'st Edg. I heard myself proclaim'd; Does not attend my taking. While I may scape, No, my lord. Fool. Ha, ha; look! he wears cruel garters! Horses are tied by the heads; dogs, and bears, by the neck; monkies by the loins, and men by the legs when a man is over-lusty at legs, then be wears wooden nether-stocks. Lear. What's he, that hath so much thy plac mistook Your son and daughter. Lear. No, no; they would not, Lear. By Jupiter, I swear, no. Kent. By Juno, I swear, 27. Lear. They durst not do't; They could not, would not do't; tis worse than murder, To do upon respect such violent outrage: Resolve me, with all modest haste, which way Thou might'st deserve, or they impose, this usage, Coming from us. Kent. My lord, when at their home I did commend your highness' letters to them, Ere I was risen from the place that show'd My duty kneeling, came there a reeking post, Stew'd in his haste, half breathless, panting forth From Goneril his mistress, salutations; Deliver❜d letters, spite of intermission, Which presently they read: on whose contents They sunimon'd up their meiny, straight took horse; Commanded me to follow, and attend The leisure of their answer; gave me cold looks: Brought near to beast: my face I'll grime with Having more man than wit about me, drew ; filth; Blanket my loins; elf all my hair in knots; Tom! He rais'd the house with loud and coward cries Your son and daughter found this trespass worth The shame which here it suffers. Fool. Winter's not gone yet, if the wild geese that way. Fathers, that wear rags, Do make their children blind; Ne'er turns the key to the poor. →→ heart! 1 Kent. Why, fool? Fool. We'll set thee to school to an aunt, 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, Will pack, when it begins to rain, And leave thee in the storm. And let the wise man fly: The knave turns fool, that runs away; Re-enter LEAR, with GLOSTER.` Lear. Deny to speak with me? They are sick? they are weary? They have travell'd hard to-night? Mere fetches; The images of revolt and flying off! Fetch me a better answer. Fool. Cry to it, nuncle, as the cockney did to the eels, when she put them i' the paste alive; she rapp'd 'em o' the coxcombs with a stick, and cry'd, Down, wantons, down: 'Twas her brother, that, in pure kindness to his horse, butter'd his hay. Enter CORNWALL, REGAN, Gloster, and Servants. Corn. Reg. I am glad to see your highness. Reg. I cannot think, my sister in the least Would fail her obligation: If, sir, perchance, She have restrain'd the riots of your followers, 'Tis on such ground, and to such wholesome end, As clears her from all blame. Lear. My curses on her! Reg. O, sir, you are old; Nature in you stands on the very verge Of her confine: you should be rul'd, and led By some discretion, that discerns your state Better than you yourself: Therefore, I pray you, That to our sister you do make return: Say, you have wrong'd her, sir. Lear. Ask her forgiveness? Do you but mark how this becomes the house? Dear daughter, I confess that I am old; Age is unnecessary: on my knees I beg, [Kneeling. That you:'il vouchsafe me raiment, bed, and food. Reg. Good sir, no more; these are unsightly tricks: Return you to my sister. Lear. Never, Regan: She hath abated me of half my train; Look'd black upon me; struck me with her tongue, Most serpent-like, upon the very heart :All the stor❜d vengeances of heaven fall On her ingrateful top! Strike her young bones, You taking airs, with lameness! Corn. Fye, fye, fye! Lear. You nimble lightnings, dart your blinding flames Into her scornful eyes! Infect her beauty, Reg. Lear. No, Regan, thou shalt never have my curse; Reg. Corn. Enter Steward. Reg. I know't, my sister's: this approves her letter, That she would soon be here. Is your lady come? What means your grace? Lear. Who stock'd my servant? Regan, I have good hope Thou didst not know of't. - Who comes here? O, heavens, Enter GONERIL. If you do love old men, if your sweet sway Make it your cause; send down, and take my part! Art not asham'd to look upon this beard ? — [To GONERIL. O, Regan, wilt thou take her by the hand? Gon. Why not by the hand, sir? How have I offended? All's not offence, that indiscretion finds, O, sides, you are too tough! Will you yet hold?-How came my man i' the stocks? Corn. I set him there, sir: but his own disorders Deserv'd much less advancement. Lear. You! did you? Reg. I pray you, father, being weak, seem so. If, till the expiration of your month, You will return and sojourn with my sister, Dismissing half your train, come then to me; I am now from home, and out of that provision Which shall be needful for your entertainment. Lear. Return to her, and fifty men dismiss'd? No, rather I abjure all roofs, and choose To wage against the enmity o' the air; To be a comrade with the wolf and owl, — Necessity's sharp pinch! - Return with her? Why, the hot-blooded France, that dowerless took Our youngest born, I could as well be brought To knee his throne, and, squire-like, pension beg To keep base life afoot: -Return with her? Persuade me rather to be slave and sumpter To this detested groom. Gon. [Looking on the Steward. At your choice, sir. Lear. I pr'ythee, daughter, do not make me mad; I will not trouble thee, my child; farewell: We'll no more meet, no more see one another: But yet thou art my flesh, my blood, my daughter; Or, rather, a disease that's in my flesh, Reg. Not altogether so, sir; I look'd not for you yet, nor am provided For your fit welcome: Give ear, sir, to my sister; For those that mingle reason with your passion, Must be content to think you old, and soBut she knows what she does. Lear. Is this well spoken now? Reg. I dare avouch it, sir: What, fifty followers? Is it not well? What should you need of more? Yea, or so many? sith that both charge and danger Speak 'gainst so great a number? How, in one house, Should-many people, under two commands, Gon. Why might not you, my lord, receive at tendance Lear. Those wicked creatures yet do look wellfavour'd, When others are more wicked; not being the worst, Stands in some rank of praise : —I'll go with thee; [To GONERIL Thy fifty yet doth double five and twenty, Hear me, my lord; Reg. Allow not nature more than nature needs, Why, nature needs not what thou gorgeous wear's. Which scarcely keeps thee warm. - But, for true need, You heavens, give me that patience, patience I need! |