Bast.
The Duke be here to-night! the better! best!
This weaves it self 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! To him, Enter Edgar.

Bast.
Brother, a word, descend, brother, I say,
My father watches; O Sir, fly this place,
Intelligence is giv'n where you are hid;
You've now the good advantage of the night—
Have you not spoken 'gainst the Duke of Cornwall?
He's coming hither, now i'th' night, haste,
And Regan with him; have you nothing said
Upon his party 'gainst the Duke of Albany?
Advise your self.

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

Bast.
I hear my father coming. Pardon me—
In cunning I must draw my sword upon you—
Draw, seem to defend your self.
Now quit you well—
Yield—come before my father—light hoa, here,—
Fly, brother—Torches!—so farewel— [Ex. Edg.
Some blood drawn on me would beget opinion [Wounds his arm.
Of my more fierce endeavour. I've seen drunkards
Do more than this in sport. Father! father!
Stop, stop, no help?—

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