תמונות בעמוד

way of

dred-pound, filthy worsted-stocking knave; a lillyliver'd, a&ion-taking, knave; a whoreson, glass-gazing, super-serviceable, finical rogue; one-trunk-inheriting slave; one that would'st be a bawd in good service; and art nothing but the composition of a knave, beggar, coward, pander, and the son and heir of a mungril bitch; one whom I will beat into clamr’ous 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 know'st me? is it two days ago, since I tript up thy heels, and beat thee before the King ? draw, you rogue; for tho? it be night, yet the moon shines; I'll make a fop o'th' moonshine of you ; you whorefon, 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 fhanks---draw, you rascal, come your ways.

Slew. Help, ho! murder! help!

Kent. Strike, you slave; ftand, rogue, ftand, you neat slave, strike.

[Beating him. Stew. Help ho! murder! murder!

Edm. Ho Kent. With you, goodman boy, if you.

Enter Edmund, Cornwall, Regan, Glo'fter, and

O W now, what's the matter? Part-

please; come,
I'll flesh ye; come on, young



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

Corn. Keep peace, upon your lives; he dies, that strikes again ; what's 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 bestir'd your valour; you cowardly rascal! nature disclaims all share in thee: a tailor made thee.

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

Kent. I, a tailor, Sir; a stone-cutter, or a painter could not have made him so ill, tho' they had been but two hours o'th' trade,

Corn. Speak yet, how grew your quarrel?

Stew. This ancient ruffian, Sir, whole 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 hath a privilege.
Corn. Why art thou angry!

Keni. That such a slave as this shou'd wear a sword.
Who wears no honesty, such smiling rogues as these,
* Like rates, oft bite the holy cords in twain
Too 'intrinsicate t’unloose: footh every passion,
That in the nature of their lords rebels:
Bring oil to fire, snow to their colder moods;
Renege, affirm, and turn their halcyon beaks

* Like rats, oft bite the holy cords in twain] By these holy Cords the Poet means the natural Union between Parents and Children. The Metaphor is taken from the Cords of the Sanétuary; and the Fomenters of Family Differences are compared to these sacrilegious Rats.


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With ev'ry Gale and Vary of their masters ;
As knowing nought, like dogs, but following.
A plague upon your epileptic 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. How fell you out? say that.

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

Corn. Why dost thou call him knave? what is his fault?

Kent. His countenance likes me not.
Corn. No more perchance, does mine, nor his, nor

Kent. Sir, 'tis my occupation to be plain;
I have seen better faces in my time,
Than stand on any shoulder that I fee
Before me at this inftant.

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 can't 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 plain-

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

Kent. Sir, in good faith, in fincere verity,
Under th' allowance of your grand asped,
Whose influence, like the wreath of radiant fire
On flickering Phæbus' front

Corn. What mean'st by this?
Kent. To go out of my dialect, which you discom-

-Camelot.] Was the place where the Romances say, King Arthur kept his Court in the West:



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mend so much: I know, Sir, I am no flatterer; he,
that beguild you in a plain accent, was a plain knave;
which for my part I will not be, though I should win
your difpleasure to intreat me to't.

Corn. What was th' offence you gave him ?
Stew. I never gave


It pleas'd the King his master very lately
To strike at me upon his misconstruction :
When he conjunct, and flatt'ring his displeasure,
Tript me behind; being down, insulted, raild,

put upon him such a deal of man, that
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 fool.

Corn. Fetch forth the Stocks.
You stubborn ancient knave, you rev'rend braggart,
We'll teach

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 sball do small respe&, shew too bold malice
Against the grace and person of my master,
Stocking his messenger.

Corn. Fetch forth the Stocks ;
As I have life and honour, there shall he fit till noon.

Reg. 'Till noon!' till night, my lord, and all night



Kent. Why, Madam, if I were your father's dog,
You could not use me so.
Reg. Sir, being his knave, I will.

Stocks brought out.
Corn. This is a fellow of the self-fame nature
Our sister speaks of. Come, bring away the Stocks.
Glo. Let beseech


Grace not io do so; His fault is much, and the good King his master


Will check him for’t; your purpos'd low corredion
Is such, as basest and the meanest wretches
For pilf'rings, and most common trespasses,
Are punish'd with. The King must take it ill,
That he, so slightly valued in his messenger,
Should have him thus reftrain'd.

Corn. I'll answer that.

Reg. My Sister may receive it much more worse, To have her Gentleman abus'd, assaulted, For following her affairs.

Put in his legs

[Kent is put in the Stockso Come, my lord, away.

[Exeunt Regan and Cornwall.


S CE N E G 'M sorry for thee, friend; 'tis the Duke's

pleasure, Whose disposition, all the world well knows, Will not be rubb'd nor stop'd. I'll intreat for theé.

Kent. Pray, do not, Sir. I've watch'd and travell’d.


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:

Thou out of heaven's benediction com'lt
To the warm fun!
Approach, thou beacon to this under-globe,

Looking up to the moon.
That by thy comfortable beams I may
Peruse this letter. Nothing almost fees miracles,
But mifery. I know, 'tis from Cordelia ;
Who hath most fortunately been inform’d
my obscured course. I shall find time:



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