Edm.

Save thee, Curan.

Cur.

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. Fare you well, Sir.

Edm.
The duke be here to-night? The better! Best!
This weaves itself perforce into my business!
My father has set guard to take my brother;
And I have one thing, of a queazy question,^{1 note}
Which I must act:—Briefness, and fortune, work!—
Brother, a word;—descend:—Brother, I say. Enter Edgar.
My father watches:—O Sir, fly this place;
Intelligence is given where you are hid.
Have you not spoken 'gainst the duke of Cornwall?
He's coming hither. Have you nothing said
Upon his party 'gainst the duke of Albany?^{2 note}
Advise yourself.^{3 note}

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

Edm.
I hear my father coming,—Pardon me:—
In cunning I must draw my sword upon you:—
Draw: Seem to defend yourself: Now quit you well.
Yield:—come before my father;—Light, ho, here!—

Fly, brother;—Torches! torches!—So, farewell. [Exit Edgar.
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.

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

Edm.
Here stood he in the dark, his sharp sword out,
Mumbling of wicked charms.

Glo.
But where is he?

Edm.
Look, Sir, I bleed.

Glo.
Where is the villain, Edmund?

Edm.
Fled this way, Sir. When by no means he could—

Glo.
Pursue him, ho!—Go after.—(Exit Servants.) By no means,—what?

Edm.
Persuade me to the murder of your lordship;
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 frighted by the noise I made,
Full suddenly he fled.

Glo.
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;
He, that conceals him, death. [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 must grant me that: and of my land,
Loyal and natural boy, I'll work the means
To make thee capable.^{4 note}

Enter Cornwall, Regan, and Attendants.

Corn.
How now, my noble friend; since I came hither,
(Which I can call but now), I have heard strange news.

Reg.
What! did my father's godson seek your life?
He whom my father nam'd your heir? your Edgar?

Glo.
O, lady, lady, shame would have it hid!
Edmund bewray'd his practice,^{5 note} and receiv'd
This hurt you see, striving to apprehend him.

Corn.
Is he pursued?

Glo.
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 virtuous obedience doth this instant
So much commend itself, you shall be ours.

Edm.
I shall serve you, Sir,
Truly, however else.

Glo.
I thank your grace.

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

Reg.
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;^{6 note} the several messengers
From hence attend despatch. Our good old friend,
Lay comforts to your bosom; and bestow
Your needful counsel to our business.

Glo.
I serve you, Madam:
Your graces are right welcome. [Exeunt. Enter Kent and Steward, severally.

Stew.

Good dawning to thee, friend: Art of the house?

Kent.

Ay.

Stew.

Where may we set our horses?

Kent.

I'the mire.

Stew.

Pr'ythee, if thou love me, tell me.

Kent.

I love thee not.

Stew.

Why, then I care not for thee.

Kent.

If I had thee elsewhere, I would make thee care for me.

Stew.

Why dost thou use me thus? I know thee not.

Kent.

Fellow, I know thee.

Stew.

What dost thou know me for?

Kent.

A slave; a rascal; a base, proud, shallow, beggarly knave; a lily-liver'd, superserviceable, finical rogue; one that art nothing but the composition of a knave, beggar, coward, and pandar; a cur whom I will beat into clamorous whining, if thou deny the least syllable of thy addition.^{7 note}

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-faced varlet art thou, to deny thou know'st me? Is it two days ago since I tripp'd up thy heels, and beat thee, before the king? Draw, you rogue: draw, you barber-monger,^{8 note} draw.

Stew.

Away; I have nothing to do with thee.

Kent.

Draw, you rascal: you come with letters against the king: Draw, you rogue, or I'll so carbonado your shanks: —Draw you rascal.

Stew.

Help, oh! murder! help!

Kent.

Strike, you slave; stand, rogue, stand.

Stew.

Help, oh! murder! murder!

Edm.
How now? What's the matter? Part.

Corn.
Keep peace, upon your lives;
He dies, that strikes again: What is 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 bestirr'd your valour. You cowardly rascal, nature disclaims in thee; a tailor made thee.

Corn.
Speak yet, how grew your quarrel?

Stew.
This ancient ruffian, Sir, whose life I have spar'd,
At suit of his grey hairs.—

Kent.

My lord, if you will give me leave, I will tread this unbolted villain^{9 note} into mortar.—Spare my grey hairs, you wagtail?

Corn.
Peace, sirrah!
Know you no reverence?

Kent.
Yes, Sir; but anger has a privilege.

Corn.
Why art thou angry?

Kent.
That such a knave as this should wear a sword,
Who wears no honesty.

Corn.
Why dost thou call him knave? What's his offence?

Kent.
His countenance likes me not.

Corn.
No more, perchance, does mine, or his, or hers.

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

Corn.
This is some fellow,
Who, having been praised for bluntness, doth affect
A saucy roughness.
What was the offence you gave him?

Stew.
Never any.
It pleas'd the king his master, very late,
To strike at me, upon his misconstruction;
When he, thus flattering his displeasure,
Tripp'd me behind; being down, insulted, rail'd,
And put upon him such a deal of man,
That worthy'd him, got praises of the king
For him attempting who was self-subdued,
And, in the fleshment^{10 note} of this dread exploit,

Drew on me here.

Corn.
Fetch forth the stocks, ho!
We'll teach you—

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

Corn.
Fetch forth the stocks:—
As I've life and honour, there shall he sit till noon.

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

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

Reg.
Sir, being his knave, I will. [Stocks brought out.^{11 note}

Glo.
Let me beseech your grace not to do so:
The king must take it ill,
That he's so slightly valued in his messenger,
Should have him thus restrain'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. [Kent is put in the stocks.
Come, my good lord; away. [Exeunt Regan and Cornwall.

Glo.
I am sorry for thee, friend; 'tis the duke's pleasure.
I'll entreat for thee.

Kent.
Pray do not, Sir: I have watch'd and travell'd hard;
Some time I shall sleep out, the rest I'll whistle.

Glo.
The duke's to blame in this; 'twill be ill taken. [Exit.

Kent.
Good king, that must approve the common saw!^{12 note}
Thou out of heaven's benediction com'st
To the warm sun.

Approach, thou beacon to this under globe,
That by thy comfortable beams I may
Peruse this letter!—I know, 'tis from Cordelia;
Who hath most fortunately been inform'd
Of my obscured course; and shall find time
From this enormous state,—seeking to give
Losses their remedies.^{13 note} All weary and o'erwatch'd,
Take vantage, heavy eyes, not to behold
This shameful lodging.
Fortune, good night; smile once more; turn thy wheel! [He sleeps.

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