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Seeing how lothly oppofite I ftood
To his unnat❜ral purpose, in fell motion
With his prepared fword he charges home
My unprovided body, launch'd mine arm;
And when he saw my beft alarmed fpirits,
Bold in the quarrel's right, rouz'd to th' encounter
Or whether gafted by the noise I made,
Full fuddenly he fled.

Glo. Let him fly far;

Not in this land fhall he remain uncaught:
And for difpatch the noble Duke my mafter,
My worthy and arch-patron, comes to-night;
By his authority I will proclaim it,

That he which finds him shall deserve our thanks,
Bringing the murth'rous coward to the stake:
He that conceals him, death.

Baft. When I diffwaded him from his intent,
And found him pight to do it, with curft speech
I threaten'd to discover him; he replied,
Thou unpoffeffing baftard, do'ft thou think,
If I would ftand against thee, the repofal
Of any truft, virtue, or worth in thee

Would make thy words faith'd? no, what I'd deny,
(As this I would, although thou did❜ft produce
My very character) would turn it all

To thy fuggeftion, 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 fpurs
To make thee feek it.

Glo. O ftrange, faften'd villain!

Would he deny his letter, faid he? hark!

[Trumpets within,

Hark, the Duke's trumpets! I know not why he comes
All ports I'll bar, the villain shall not 'scape,

The Duke muft grant me that; befides, his picture
I will fend far and near, that all the kingdom
May have due note of him; and of my land
(Loyal and natural boy) I'll work the means
To make thee capable.

SCENE

SCENE IV.

Enter Cornwall, Regan, and Attendants.

Corn. How now, my noble friend? fince 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 th' offender; how does my Lord? Glo. O Madam, my old heart is crack'd, it's crack'd. Reg. What, did my father's godfon feek your life? He whom my father nam'd, your Edgar? He? Glo. O Lady, Lady, fhame would have it hid.

Reg. Was he not companion with the riotous Knights That tended on my father?

Glo. I know not, Madam; 'tis too bad, too bad.
Baft. Yes, Madam, he was of that confort.

Reg. No marvel then, tho' he were ill-affected;
'Tis they have put him on the old man's death,
To have th' expence and waste of revenues.
I have this prefent evening from my fifter

Been well inform'd of them, and with such cautions,
That if they come to fojourn at my house,

I'll not be there.

Corn. Nor I, affure thee, Regan;

Edmund, I hear that you have fhewn your father
A child-like office.

Baft. It's my duty, Sir.

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

Glo. Ay, my good Lord, he is.

Corn. If he be taken, he fhall never more
Be fear'd of doing harm: make your own purpose,
How in my ftrength you pleafe. As for you, Edmund,
Whofe virtue and obedience doth this instant

So much commend it felf, you shall be ours;
Natures of fuch deep truft we fhall much need:
You we first feize on.

Baft. I fhall ferve you, Sir,

Truly, however elfe.

Glo. I thank your Grace.

Carm. You know not why we came to vifit you

Thus

Thus out of feafon thredding dark-ey'd night!
Reg. Occafions, noble Glo'fter, of fome prize,
Wherein we must have use of your advice
Our father he hath writ, fo hath our fifter,
Of diff'rences, which I best thought it fit
To answer from our home; the fev'ral meffengers
From hence attend dispatch. Our good old friend,
Lay comforts to your bofom, and bestow
Your needful counsel to our bufineffes,

Which crave the inftant use.

Glo. I ferve you, Madam;

Your Graces are right welcome.

SCENE V.

Enter Kent, and Steward, feverally.

[Exeunt,

Stew. Good dawning to thee, friend; art of this house? Kent. Ay.

Stew. Where may we fet our horfes?

Kent. I'th' mire.

Stew. Pr'ythee, if thou lov'ft me tell me.

Kent. I love thee not.

Stew. Why then I care not for thee.

Kent. If I had thee in Lipfbury pinfold, I would make thee care for me.

Stew. Why doft thou use me thus? I know thee not.
Kent. Fellow, I know thee.

Stew. What doft thou know me for?

Kent. A knave, a raícal, and eater of broken meats, a bafe, proud, fhallow, beggarly, three-fuited, hundred-pound, filthy woofted-ftocking knave; a lilly-liver'd action-taking, whorfon, glass-gazing, super-serviceable finical rogue ; onetrunk-inheriting flave; one that would'st be a bawd in way of good fervice; and art nothing but the compofition of a knave, beggar, coward, pander, and the fon and heir of a mungril bitch; one whom I will beat into clam'rous whining, if thou deny'ft the leaft fyllable 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-fac'd varlet art thou to deny thou knoweft me! is it two days fince I tript up thy heels, and beat thee before the King? draw, you rogue; for tho' it be

night, yet the moon fhines; I'll make a fop o'th' moonfhine of you; you whorefon, cullionly barber-monger, draw. [Drawing bis fword. 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 fo carbonado your thanks-draw, you rafcal, come your ways. Stew. Help, ho! murther! help!

Kent. Strike, you slave; stand, rogue, ftand, you neatflave, ftrike! [Beating bim.

Stew.. Help, ho! murther! murther!–

SCENE VI.

Enter Baftard, Cornwall, Regan, Glo’fter, and Servants. Baft. How now, what's the matter? Part →→→→

Kent. With you, goodman boy, if you please; come, I'll flesh ye; come on, young mafter.

Glo. Weapons? arms? what's the matter here?

Corn. Keep peace, upon your lives; he dies that ftrikes again; what's the matter?

1

Reg. The meffengers from our fifter and the King?
Corn. What is your difference? fpeak.

Stew. I am fcarce in breath, my Lord.

Kent. No marvel, you have fo beftir'd your valour; you cowardly rafcal, nature difclaims all fhare in thee: a tailor made thee.

Corn. Thou art a ftrange fellow; a tailor make a man? Kent. A tailor, Sir? a ftone-cutter, or a painter could not have made him fo ill, tho they had been but two hours o'th' trade.

Corn. Speak you, how grew your quarrel ?

Stew. This ancient ruffian, Sir, whofe life I have fpar'd at fuit of his grey beard

Kent. Thou whorfon zed! thou unneceffary 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 wag-tail!

Corn. Peace, Sirrah!

You beastly knave, know you no reverence?
Kent. Yes, Sir, but anger hath a privilege.

Corn

Corn. Why art thou angry?

Kent. That fuch a flave as this fhou'd wear a fword,
Who wears no honefty: fuch fmiling 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? fay 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;

I 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 roughness, and constrains 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,

In the parts of Somerfetfbire near Camelot 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 kathers

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