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Edm. Persuade me to the murder of your lordship;

But that I told him, the revenging gods
'Gainst parricides did all their thunders bend;
Spoke, with how manifold and strong a bond
The child was bound to the father; - Sir, in fine,
Seeing how loathly opposite I stood
To his unnatural purpose, in fell motion,
With his prepared sword, he charges home
My unprovided body, lanc'd mine arm :
But when he saw my best alarum'd spirits,
Bold in the quarrel's right, rous'd to the encounter,
Or whether gasted by the noise I made,
Full suddenly he fled.

Glo.

Let him fly far:

Not in this land shall he remain uncaught; And found-Despatch.

master,

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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 :
By his authority I will proclaim it,

That he, which finds him, shall deserve our thanks,
Bringing the murderous coward to the stake;
He, that conceals him, death.

Edm. When I dissuaded him from his intent,
And found him pight to do it, with curst speech
I threaten'd 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 faith'd? No: what I should deny,
(As this I would; ay, though thou didst produce
My very character,) I'd turn it all

To thy suggestion, plot, and damned practice:
And thou must make a dullard of the world,
If they not thought the profits of my death
Were very pregnant and potential spurs
To make thee seek it.

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:

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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.
Kent. I love thee not.

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,
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? 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 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. Yes, sir; but anger has a privilege.
Corn. Why art thou angry?

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

How fell you out?

Corn. What, art thou mad, old fellow?
Glo.
Say that.

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: 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,
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 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,
To strike at me, upon his misconstruction;
When he, conjunct, and flattering his displeasure,
Tripp'd me behind: being down, insulted, rail'd,
And put upon him such a deal of man,
That worthy'd him, got praises of the king
For him attempting who was self-subdu'd;
And, in the fleshment of this dread exploit,
Drew on me here.

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.

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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

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Edg. I heard myself proclaim'd;
And, by the happy hollow of a tree,
Escap'd the hunt. No port is free; no place,
That guard, and most unusual vigilance,

Does not attend my taking. While I may scape,
I will preserve myself: and am bethought
To take the basest and most poorest shape,
That ever penury, in contempt of man,

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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

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Your son and daughter.
Lear. No.
Kent. Yes.
Lear. No, I say.
Kent. I say, yea.

Lear. No, no; they would not,
Kent. Yes, they have.

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:
And meeting here the other messenger,
Whose welcome, I perceiv'd, had poison'd mine,
(Being the very fellow that of late
Display'd so saucily against your highness,)

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;
And with presented nakedness out-face
The winds, and persecutions of the sky.
The country gives me proof and precedent
Of Bedlam beggars, who, with roaring voices,
Strike in their numb'd and mortified bare arms
Pins, wooden pricks, nails, sprigs of rosemary;
And with this horrible object, from low farms,
Poor pelting villages, sheep-cotes and mills,
Sometime with lunatick bans, sometime with prayers,
Enforce their charity. - Poor Turlygood! poor

Tom!

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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;
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 dalour
for thy daughters, as thou can'st tell in a year.
Lear. O, how this mother swells up toward #7

heart!

1

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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,
And follows but for form,

Will pack, when it begins to rain,

And leave thee in the storm.
But I will tarry; the fool will stay,

And let the wise man fly:

The knave turns fool, that runs away;
The fool no knave, perdy.
Kent. Where learn'd you this, fool?
Fool. Not i' the stocks, fool.

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.

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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.
Lear. Good morrow to you both.
Hail to your grace!
[KENT is set at liberty.

Corn.

Reg. I am glad to see your highness.
Lear. Regan, I think you are; I know what

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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.

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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,
You fen-suck'd fogs, drawn by the powerful sun,
To fall and blast her pride!

Reg.
O the blest gods!
So will you wish on me, when the rash mood's on,

Lear. No, Regan, thou shalt never have my curse;
Thy tender-hefted nature shall not give
Thee o'er to harshness; her eyes are fierce, but thine
Do comfort, and not burn: "Tis not in thee
To grudge my pleasures, to cut off my train,
To bandy hasty words, to scant my sizes,
And, in conclusion, to oppose the bolt
Against my coming in: thou better know'st
The offices of nature, bond of childhood,
Effects of courtesy, dues of gratitude;
Thy half o' the kingdom hast thou not forgot,
Wherein I thee endow'd.

Reg.
Good sir, to the purpose.
[Trumpets within.
Lear. Who put my man i' the stocks?
What trumpet's that?

Corn.

Enter Steward.

Reg. I know't, my sister's: this approves her letter,

That she would soon be here. Is your lady come?
Lear. This is a slave, whose easy-borrow'd pride
Dwells in the fickle grace of her he follows:
Out, varlet, from my sight!
Corn.

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
Allow obedience, if yourselves are old,

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,
And dotage terms so.
Lear.

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,
Which I must needs call mine; thou art a boil,
A plague-sore, an embossed carbuncle,
In my corrupted blood. But I'll not chide thee;
Let shame come when it will, I do not call it :
I do not bid the thunder-bearer shoot,
Nor tell tales of thee to high-judging Jove:
Mend, when thou canst; be better, at thy leisure:
I can be patient; I can stay with Regan,
I, and my hundred knights.

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,
Hold amity? 'Tis hard; almost impossible.

Gon. Why might not you, my lord, receive at

tendance

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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,
And thou art twice her love.
Gon.

Hear me, my lord;
What need you five and twenty, ten, or five,
To follow in a house, where twice so many
Have a command to tend you?

Reg.
What need one?
Lear. O, reason not the need: our basest beggar
Are in the poorest thing superfluous:

Allow not nature more than nature needs,
Man's life is cheap as beast's: thou art a lady ;
If only to go warm were gorgeous,

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!
You see me here, you gods, a poor old man,
As full of grief as age; wretched in both!
If it be you that stir these daughters' hearts
Against their father, fool me not so much
To bear it tamely; touch me with noble anger!
O, let not women's weapons, water-drops,
Stain my man's cheeks!- No, you unnatural hug,
I will have such revenges on you both,

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