Corn. Why art thou angry?

Kent. That fuch a flave as this fhould wear a fword,
Who wears no honefty: fuch smiling rogues
Like rats oft bite the holy cords in twain
Too intrinfick t'unloofe: footh ev'ry paffion
That in the nature of their Lords rebels ;
Bring oil to fire, fnow to their colder moods;
Renege, affirm, and turn their halcyon beaks
With ev'ry gale and vary of their masters,
As knowing nought, like dogs, but following.
A plague upon your epileptick vifage!
Smile you my fpeeches, 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. How fell you out? say that.

Kent. No contraries hold more antipathy,
Than I and fuch a knave?

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;

have feen better faces in my time,

Than ftand on any shoulders that I fee
Before me at this inftant.

Corn. This is fome fellow,

Who having been prais'd for bluntnefs, doth affect
A fawcy roughnefs, and conftrains the garb
Quite from his nature. He can't flatter, he;
An honeft mind and plain, he must speak truth;
An they will take it, fo; if not, he's plain.
These kind of knaves I know, which in this plainness
Harbour more craft, and far corrupter ends,
Than twenty filky ducking obfervants,
That ftretch their duties nicely.

Kent. Sir, in good faith, in fincere verity,
Under th' allowance of your grand afpect,

In the parts of Somersetshire near Camelet there are many large Moors upon which great numbers of Geefe are bred, fo that many other places in England are from thence fupplied with quills and feathers.

Whofe

Whose 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 discommend fo much; I know, Sir, I am no flatterer; but he that beguil'd you in a plain accent, was a plain knave; which for my part I will not be, though I should win your displeasure to intreat me to't.

Corn. What was th' offence you gave him?
Stew. Never any:

It pleas'd the King his master very lately
To ftrike at me upon his misconstruction;
When he conjunct, and flatt'ring his displeasure,
Tript me behind; being down, infulted, rail'd,
And put upon him fuch a deal of man,
That worthied him, got praises of the King,
For him attempting who was felf-subdu'd,
And in the fleshment of this dread exploit
Drew on me here again.

Kent. None of these rogues and cowards,
But Ajax is their foil.

Corn. Fetch forth the Stocks.

You stubborn 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;
On whofe employment I was fent to you.
You shall do fmall refpect, fhew too bold malice
Against the grace and person of my mafter,
Stocking his messenger.

Corn, Fetch forth the Stocks;

As I have life, 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 use 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. Bring away the Stocks.

Glo. Let me beseech your Grace not to do fo; His fault is much, and the good King his mafter

Will

Will check him for't; your purpos'd low correction
ls fuch, as bafeft and the meaneft wretches
For pilf'rings, and most common trespasses,
Are punish'd with. The King must take it ill
That he's fo flightly valued in his messenger,
To have him thus reftrain'd,

Corn. I'll answer that.

Reg. My fifter may receive it yet much worse,
To have her Gentleman abus'd, affaulted
For following her affairs, Put in his legs-

Come, my Lord, away.

[Kent is put in the Stocks. [Exeunt Regan and Cornwall,

SCENE VI.

Glo. I'm forry for thee, friend; 'tis the Duke's pleasure, Whofe difpofition all the world well knows

Will not be rubb'd nor ftop'd. I'll intreat for thee.
Kent. Pray, do not, Sir. I've watch'd and travell'd hard,
Some time I fhall fleep out, the reft 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 faw, Thou out of heaven's benediction com'ft.

To the warm fun. * All weary and o'er-watch'd,
Take vantage, heavy eyes, not to behold

This fhameful lodging.

Fortune, good night, fmile once more, turn thy wheel!

[He fleeps,

An old proverbial faying applied to those who are turn'd out of boufe and bome, deprived of all the comforts of life excepting the common benefits of the Air and Sun.

... warm fun.

Approach thou beacon to this under globe,[ Looking up to the moon. That by thy comfortable beams I may

Perufe this letter. Nothing almoft fees miracles

But mifery I know 'tis from Cardelia,
Who hath molt fortunately been inform'd
Of my obfcured courfe. I fall find time
From this enormous state, and feek to give
Loffes their remedies. All weary, &
VOL. IV.

M

SCENE

SCENE VII.

SCENE changes to a part of a Heath.
Enter Edgar.

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

Does not attend my taking. Whiles I may 'scape
I will preferve my felf: and am bethought
To take the basest and the poorest shape
That ever penury in contempt of man

Brought near to beaft: my face I'll grime with filth,
Blanket my loins, else all my hair in knots,
And with presented nakedness out-face
The winds, and perfecutions of the sky.
The country gives me proof and prefident
Of bedlam beggars, who with roaring voices
Strike in their numb'd and mortify'd bare arms
Pins, wooden pricks, nails, sprigs of rosemary;
And with this horrible object, from low farms,
Poor pelting villages, fheep-cotes and mills,
Sometimes with lunatick bans, fometimes with pray'ss,
Inforce their charity; poor Turlur! poor Tom!
That's fomething yet: Edgar I nothing am.

SCENE VIII.

Changes again to the Earl of Glo'fter's Cafile.

Enter Lear, Fool, and Gentleman,

[Exit.

Lear. 'Tis ftrange that they should fo depart from home, And not fend back my meffenger.

Gent, As I learn'd,

The night before there was no purpose in them

Of this remove.

Kent. Hail to thee, noble mafter.

Lear. Ha, mak'ft thou fhame thy paftime?

Kent. No, my Lord.

Fool. Ha, ha, he wears cruel garters; horfes are ty'd by the heads, dogs and bears by th' neck, monkeys by th loins, and men by th' legs; when a man is over-lufty at legs, then he wears wooden nether stocks,

Lest

Lear. What's he, that hath fo much thy place miftook,

To fet thee here?

Kent. It is both he and thes

Your fon and daughter.

Lear. No.

Kent. Yes.

Lear. No, I fay.

Kent. But I fay, yea.

Lear. By Jupiter, I fwear no.
Kent. By June, I swear ay.

Lear. They durft not do't.

They could not, would not do't; 'tis worse than murther, To do upon refpect fuch violent outrage:

Refolve me with all modest hafte, which way

Thou might'ft deserve or they impose this ufage,
Coming from us?

Kent. My Lord, when at their home

I did commend your Highness' letters to them,
Ere I was rifen from the place, that shew'd
My duty kneeling, came a reeking post,
Stew'd in his hafte, half breathlefs, panting forth
From Gonerill his mistress falutation;
Deliver'd letters, fpight of intermiffion
Which presently they read; on those contents
They fummon'd up their meiny, ftrait took horse,
Commanded me to follow and attend

The leifure of their answer; gave me cold looks;
And meeting here the other meffenger,
Whose welcome I perceiv'd had poison❜d mine,
Being the very fellow which of late
Difplay'd fo fawcily against your Highness,
Having more man than wit about me, I drew;
He rais'd the house with loud and coward cries:
Your fon and daughter found this trespass worth
The fhame which here it fuffers.

Fool. Winter's not gone yet, if the wild geefe fly that way. Fathers that wear rags

Do make their children blind,

But fathers that bear bags

Shall fee their children kind.

M 2

Fortune,