Edmund.

Save thee, Curan.

Curan.

And you, sir. I have been with your father; and given him notice, that the Duke of Cornwall, and Regan his duchess will be here with him to-night.

Edmund.

How comes that?

Curan.

Nay, I know not: you have heard of the news abroad? I mean the whispered ones?

Edmund.

Not I; pray you what are they?

Curan.

Have you heard of no likely wars toward, 'twixt the Dukes of Cornwall and Albany?

Edmund.

Not a word.

Curan.

You may do, then, in time. Fare you well, sir.

Edmund.
The duke be here to-night? The better! Best!
This weaves itself perforce into my business!
My father hath set guard to take my brother;
And I have one thing, of a queazy question,
Which I must act:—Briefness, and fortune, work!— (knocks at door, R.)
Brother, a word!—descend!—Brother, I say! Enter Edgar, door, R. 2. E.
My father watches:—O sir, fly this place;
Intelligence is given where you are hid;—
You have now the good advantage of the night:—
Have you not spoken 'gainst the Duke of Cornwall?
He's coming hither; now i' the night, i' the haste,
And Regan with him; have you nothing said
Upon his party 'gainst the Duke of Albany?
Advise yourself.

Edgar.
I am sure on't, not a word.

Edmund.
I hear my father coming,—(goes, L.) Pardon me:
In cunning, I must draw my sword upon you:—
Draw—seem to defend yourself: (speaks loudly) Now quit you well.
Yield: come before my father;—Light, ho, here!—
Fly, brother;—Torches! torches!—So farewell.— Exit Edgar, R.
Some blood drawn on me would beget opinion (wounds his arm)
Of my more fierce endeavour: I have seen drunkards
Do more than this in sport.—Father! father!
Stop, stop! No help? Enter Gloster and Servants, with torches, L.

Gloster.
Now, Edmund, where's the villain?

Edmund.
Here stood he in the dark, his sharp sword out,

Mumbling of wicked charms, conjuring the moon
To stand his auspicious mistress:—

Gloster.
But where is he?

Edmund.
Look, sir, I bleed.

Gloster.
Where is the villain, Edmund?

Edmund.
Fled this way, sir. When by no means he could—

Gloster.
Pursue him, ho!—Go after. Exit Servants, R.
By no means,—what?

Edmund.
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 manifest 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.

Gloster.
Let him fly far;
Not in this land shall he remain uncaught;
The noble duke, my master, 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. (trumpets within)
Hark, the duke's trumpets!
All ports I'll bar; the villain shall not 'scape;
The duke must grant me that: and of my land,
Loyal and natural boy, I'll work the means
To make thee capable. Enter Cornwall, Regan, and Attendants from L. Trumpets cease.

Corn.
How now, my noble friend? since I came hither,
I have heard strange news.

Regan.
What, did my father's godson seek your life?
He whom my father nam'd? your Edgar?

Gloster.
O, lady, lady, shame would have it hid!

Regan.
Was he not companion with the riotous knights
That tend upon my father?

Edmund. (R.)
Yes, madam, he was of that consort.

Regan.
No, marvel then, though he were ill affected:
I have this present evening from my sister,
Been well inform'd of them; and with such cautions,
That if they come to sojourn at my home,
I'll not be there.

Cornwall.
Nor I, assure thee, Regan.—
Edmund, I hear that you have shown your father
A child-like office.

Edmund.
'Twas my duty, sir.

Gloster.
He did bewray his practice; and receiv'd
This hurt you see, striving to apprehend him.

Corn.
Is he pursued?

Gloster.
Ay, my good lord, he is.

Corn.
If he be taken, he shall never more
Be fear'd of doing harm—For you, Edmund,
Whose virtue and obedience doth this instant
So much commend itself, you shall be ours;
Natures of such deep trust we shall much need;
You we first seize on.

Edmund.
I shall serve you, sir,
Truly, however else.

Gloster.
For him I thank your grace.

Corn.
You know not why we came to visit you,—

Regan.
Thus out of season; threading dark-ey'd night.
Our father he hath writ, so hath our sister
Of differences, which I best thought it fit
To answer from our home; the several messengers
From hence attend despatch. Our good old friend,
Lay comforts to your bosom; and bestow
Your needful counsel to our business.
Which craves the instant use.

Gloster.
I serve you, madam:
Your graces are right welcome. Exeunt, R.

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