Edm. ^note
How now! What's the matter? [Parting them. ^note

Kent.
With you, goodman boy, an ^note you please: come, ^note
I'll flesh ^note you ^note; come on, young master. ^note

Glou.
Weapons! arms! ^note What's the matter here?

Corn.
Keep peace, upon your lives;
He dies that strikes again. What is ^note the matter? ^note

Reg.
The messengers ^note from our sister and the king. ^note

Corn.
What is ^note your difference? speak. ^note

Osw.
I am scarce in breath, my lord.

Kent.

No marvel, you have so bestirred your valour.

You cowardly rascal, nature disclaims in ^note thee: a tailor made thee.

Corn.

Thou art a strange fellow: a tailor make a man? ^{note note}

Kent.

Ay, ^note a tailor, sir: ^note a stone-cutter or a painter could not have made him so ill, though he ^note had been but two hours ^note at the ^note trade.

Corn.

Speak yet ^note, how grew your quarrel?

Osw.

This ancient ruffian ^note, sir, whose life I have spared ^note at suit of his gray beard,— ^note

Kent.

Thou whoreson zed! ^note thou unnecessary letter! My lord, if you will ^note give me leave, I will tread this unbolted villain into mortar, and daub the walls ^note of a jakes ^note with him. Spare my gray beard ^note, you wagtail?

Corn.
Peace, sirrah ^note!
You beastly knave, know you no reverence? ^{note note}

Kent.
Yes, sir; but anger hath ^note a privilege.

Corn.
Why art thou angry?

Kent.
That such a slave as this should wear a sword,
Who ^note wears no honesty. Such smiling rogues as these ^note,
Like rats, oft bite the holy ^note cords a-twain ^note

Which are too intrinse ^note to unloose; ^note smooth ^note every passion
That in the natures ^note of their lords rebel ^note;
Bring ^note oil to fire ^note, snow to their ^note colder moods;
Renege ^note, affirm, and turn their halcyon beaks
With every gale ^note and vary ^note of their masters,
Knowing ^note nought ^note, like dogs ^note, but following.
A plague upon your epileptic visage!
Smile you ^note my speeches, as I were a fool? ^note
Goose, if ^note I had you upon Sarum plain,
I'ld drive ye ^note cackling home to Camelot ^note.

Corn.
What, art thou mad, old fellow?

Glou.
How fell you out? ^note say that. ^{note note}

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

Corn.
Why dost thou call him knave? What is his fault ^note?

Kent.
His countenance likes me not.

Corn.
No more perchance does ^note mine, nor his, nor ^note hers.

Kent.
Sir, 'tis my occupation to be plain:
I have seen better faces in my time
Than ^note stands ^note on any shoulders that I see
Before me at this instant.

Corn.
This is some ^note fellow,
Who, having been praised for bluntness, doth affect
A saucy roughness ^note, and constrains the garb
Quite from his nature: he cannot ^note flatter, he,—
An honest mind and plain ^note,—he must speak truth!
An ^note they will take it, so ^note; if not, he's plain.
These kind of knaves I know, which in this plainness ^note
Harbour more craft and more ^note corrupter ends
Than twenty silly ^note ducking ^note observants
That stretch their duties nicely. ^note

Kent.
Sir, in good faith, in ^note sincere verity,
Under the allowance of your great ^note aspect,
Whose influence, like the wreath of radiant fire
On ^note flickering ^note Phœbus' front,— ^note

Corn.
What mean'st by ^note this?

Kent.

To go out of my dialect ^note, which you discommend so much. I know, sir, I am no flatterer: he ^note that beguiled ^note 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 ^note me to't ^note.

Corn.
What was ^note the offence you gave him?

Osw.
I never gave him any ^note:
It pleased the king his master very late ^note
To strike at me, upon his misconstruction ^note; ^note
When he, conjunct ^note, and flattering his displeasure,
Tripp'd me behind; being down, insulted, rail'd,
And put upon him such a deal of man,
That ^note worthied him, got praises of the king
For him attempting who was self-subdued;
And in the fleshment ^note of this dread ^note exploit
Drew on me here again ^note.

Kent.
None of these rogues and cowards
But Ajax ^note is their ^note fool ^{note note}.

Corn.
Fetch forth the stocks! ^note
You stubborn ancient ^{note note} knave, you reverend ^note braggart,
We'll teach you— ^note

Kent.
Sir, ^note I am too old to learn:

Call not your stocks for me: I serve the king,
On whose employment ^note I was sent to you ^note:
You shall ^note do small respect ^note, show too bold malice
Against the grace and person of my master,
Stocking ^note his messenger.

Corn.
Fetch forth the stocks! ^note As I have life and honour ^note,
There shall he sit till noon. ^note

Reg.
Till noon! ^note till night, my lord, and all night too.

Kent.
Why, madam, if I were your father's dog,
You should ^note not use me so. ^note

Reg.
Sir, being his knave, I will.

Corn.
This is a fellow of the self-same colour ^note
Our sister speaks of ^note. Come ^note, bring away the stocks! [Stocks brought out. ^note

Glou.
Let me beseech your grace not to do so:
His fault is much, and the good king his master
Will check him for't: your purposed low correction
Is such as basest ^note and contemned'st ^note wretches
For pilferings and most common trespasses
Are punish'd with: the king must take it ill,
That he, so slightly valued in his messenger,
Should ^note have him thus restrain'd. ^note

Corn.
I'll answer that.

Reg.
My sister may receive it much more ^note worse,

To have her gentleman ^note abused, assaulted,
For following her affairs. Put in his legs. ^{note note} [Kent ^note is put in the stocks.
Come ^note, my good lord ^note, away. [Exeunt ^note all but Gloucester and Kent. ^note

Glou.
I am ^note sorry for thee, friend; 'tis the duke's ^note pleasure,
Whose disposition, all the world well knows,
Will not be rubb'd ^note nor stopp'd: I'll entreat for thee.

Kent.
Pray ^note, do not, sir: I have ^note watch'd and travell'd ^note hard;
Some time ^note I shall sleep out ^note, the rest I'll whistle.
A good man's fortune may grow out at heels:
Give you good morrow!

Glou.
The duke's to blame ^note in this; 'twill be ill taken ^note. ^{note note} [Exit. ^note

Kent.
Good king, that must approve the common saw,
Thou ^note out of heaven's benediction comest
To the warm sun! ^note
Approach, thou beacon to this under globe,
That by thy comfortable beams I may

Peruse this letter! Nothing almost sees miracles ^{note note}
But misery: I know ^note 'tis from Cordelia,
Who hath most ^note fortunately been inform'd
Of my obscured course; and ^note shall find time
From ^note this enormous state, seeking ^note to give
Losses their remedies. ^note All weary and o'er-watch'd, ^note
Take ^note vantage, heavy eyes, not to behold
This shameful lodging.
Fortune, good night: smile once more; turn ^note thy wheel! ^note [Sleeps. ^{note note} Scene III. [Footnote: A wood. ^note Enter Edgar. ^note

Edg.
I heard ^note myself proclaim'd;
And by the happy hollow of a tree
Escaped the hunt. No port is free; no place,

That guard and most unusual ^note vigilance
Does ^note not attend my taking. Whiles ^note I may 'scape
I will preserve myself: and am bethought
To take the basest and most ^note poorest shape
That ever penury in contempt of man
Brought near to beast: my face I'll grime with filth,
Blanket my loins, elf ^note all my hair ^note in ^note knots,
And with presented nakedness out-face
The winds ^note and persecutions ^note of the sky.
The country gives me proof and precedent ^note
Of Bedlam beggars, who with roaring voices
Strike ^note in their numb'd and ^note mortified bare ^note arms
Pins ^note, wooden ^note pricks, nails, sprigs of rosemary;
And with this horrible object, from ^note low farms ^note,
Poor pelting villages, sheep-cotes ^note and mills ^note,
Sometime ^note with lunatic bans, sometime ^note with prayers,
Enforce their ^note charity. Poor Turlygod ^note! poor Tom!
That's something yet: Edgar I nothing am. [Exit.

^note Scene IV. [Footnote: Before Gloucester's castle. ^note Kent ^note in the stocks. Enter ^note Lear, Fool, and Gentleman.

Lear.
'Tis strange that they should so depart from home ^note,
And not send back my messenger ^note.

Gent.
As I learn'd,
The night before there was no purpose in them ^note
Of this ^note remove. ^note

Kent.
Hail to thee, noble master!

Lear.
Ha! ^note
Makest thou this ^note shame thy ^note pastime? ^note

Kent. ^note
No, my lord.

Fool.

Ha, ha! he ^note wears cruel ^note garters. Horses are tied ^note by the heads ^note, dogs and bears by the neck, monkeys by the loins, and men by the legs: when a man's ^note over-lusty at legs, then ^note he wears wooden ^note nether-stocks ^note. ^note

Lear.
What's he that hath so much thy place mistook
To set thee here? ^note

Kent.
It is both he and she;
Your son and daughter. ^note

Lear.
No.

Kent.
Yes.

Lear.
No, I say.

Kent.
I say, yea. ^note

Lear.
No, no, they would not.

Kent.
Yes, they have. ^note

Lear.
By Jupiter, I swear, no.

Kent.
By Juno, I swear, ay.

Lear. ^note
They durst not do't;
They could not, would ^note not do't ^note; 'tis worse than murder,
To do upon respect such violent outrage:
Resolve me with all modest haste which way
Thou mightst ^note deserve, or they impose ^note, 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 ^note
My duty kneeling, came there ^note a reeking post,
Stew'd in his haste, half breathless, panting ^note forth
From Goneril his mistress salutations ^note;
Deliver'd ^note letters, spite of intermission,
Which presently they read: on whose ^note contents
They summon'd up their meiny ^note, straight took horse;
Commanded me to follow and attend
The leisure of their answer; gave me cold looks:

And ^note meeting here the other messenger,
Whose welcome, I perceived, had poison'd mine—
Being the very fellow that ^note of late
Display'd so saucily against your highness—
Having more man than wit about me, drew ^note:
He raised the house with loud and coward cries.
Your son and daughter found this trespass worth
The shame ^note which here it suffers.

Fool.
Winter's ^note not gone yet, if the wild ^note geese fly 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. ^note

But, for all this, thou shalt have as many dolours for thy ^note daughters ^note as thou canst tell in a year. ^note

Lear.
O, how this mother swells up toward my heart!
Hysterica ^note passio, down, thou climbing sorrow,
Thy element's below! Where is this daughter?

Kent.
With the earl, sir, here ^note within.

Lear.
Follow me not; ^note stay here. ^note [Exit. ^note

Gent.
Made you no more offence but ^note what you speak of? ^note

Kent.
None ^note.

How chance the king comes with so small a train ^note? ^note

Fool.

An ^note thou hadst been set i' the ^note stocks for that question, thou hadst ^note well deserved ^note it.

Kent.

Why, fool?

Fool.

We'll set thee to school to an ant, to teach thee there's no labouring i' the ^note winter. All that follow their noses are led by their eyes but blind men; ^note and there's not a nose among twenty ^note but can smell him that's stinking ^note. Let go thy hold when a great wheel runs down a hill, lest it break thy neck with following it ^note; but the great one that goes up the hill ^note, let him ^note 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.

^note
  That sir ^note which ^note serves and seeks ^note for gain,
    And follows but for form,
  Will pack when it begins ^note to rain ^note,
    And leave thee in the storm ^note.
  But ^note I will tarry; the fool will stay,
    And let the wise man ^note fly:
  The knave turns fool that runs away;
    The fool no knave, ^note perdy. ^note

Kent.

Where learned you this, fool?

Fool.

Not i' the ^note stocks, fool ^note.

^noteRe-enter ^note Lear, with Gloucester.

Lear.
Deny to speak with me? They are sick? they are ^note weary? ^{note note}
They have travell'd ^note all the ^note night? Mere fetches;
The ^note images ^note of revolt and flying off.
Fetch ^note me a better answer.

Glou.
My dear lord,
You know the fiery quality of the duke;
How unremoveable and fix'd he is
In his own course.

Lear.
Vengeance! plague! death! ^note confusion!
Fiery? what quality? ^note Why, Gloucester, Gloucester ^note,
I'ld speak with the Duke of Cornwall and his wife. ^note

Glou.
Well, my good lord, I have inform'd them so.

Lear.
Inform'd them! Dost thou understand me, man? ^note

Glou.
Ay, my good lord.

Lear.
The king would speak with Cornwall; the dear father ^{note note}
Would with his ^note daughter speak, commands her service ^note:

Are they inform'd of this? My breath and blood! ^note
‘Fiery’? ‘the fiery duke’? Tell the hot duke that— ^{note note}
No ^note, but not yet: may be he is not well:
Infirmity doth still neglect all office
Whereto ^note our health is bound; we are ^note not ourselves
When nature being oppress'd commands ^note the mind
To suffer with the body: I'll forbear; ^note
And am fall'n ^note out with my more headier ^note will,
To take the indisposed and sickly fit
For the sound man. [Looking on Kent ^note] Death on my state! wherefore ^note
Should he sit here? This act ^note persuades ^note me
That this remotion of the duke and her ^note
Is practice only. Give ^note me my servant forth.
Go tell ^note the duke and 's ^note wife I'ld ^note speak with them,
Now, presently: bid them come forth and hear me,
Or at their chamber-door I'll beat the drum
Till it cry sleep to death ^note.

Glou.
I would ^note have all well betwixt you. [Exit. ^note

Lear.
O me, my heart, my rising heart! But down! ^note

Fool.

Cry to it, nuncle, as the cockney ^note did to the eels when she ^note put 'em i' the ^note paste ^note alive; she ^note knapped 'em o' the ^note coxcombs with a stick, and cried ‘Down, wantons, down!’ 'Twas her ^note brother that, in pure kindness to his horse, buttered his hay.