Each buz, each fancy, each complaint, dislike,
He may enguard his dotage with their powers,
And hold our lives in mercy.-Oswald, I say!
Alb. Well, you may fear too far.
Gon. Safer than trust too far.

Let me still take away the harms I fear,

Not fear still to be taken. I know his heart:
What he hath uttered I have writ my sister:
If she sustain him and his hundred knights,
When I have shewed the unfitness,-How now,
Oswald?

Fool. Why, to put his head in: not to give it away to his daughters, and leave his horns without

a case.

Lear. I will forget my nature.-So kind a father!-Be my horses ready?

Fool. Thy asses are gone about 'em.-The reason why the seven stars are no more than seven, is a pretty reason.

Lear. Because they are not eight?

Fool. Yes, indeed :—thou wouldst make a good

fool.

Lear. To take it again perforce !—Monster ingratitude!

Fool. If thou wert my fool, nuncle, I'd have thee beaten for being old before thy time. Lear. How's that?

Fool. Thou shouldst not have been old before thou hadst been wise.

Lear. O let me not be mad, not mad, sweet

SCENE I.-A Court within the Castle of the EARL OF GLOSTER.

Enter EDMUND and CURAN, meeting.

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.

Edm. How comes that?

Cur. Nay, I know not.-You have heard of the news abroad? I mean the whispered ones, for they are yet but ear-kissing arguments.

Edm. Not I: 'pray you, what are they? Cur. Have you heard of no likely wars toward, 'twixt the Dukes of Cornwall and Albany? Edm. Not a word.

Cur. You may then, in time. Fare you well, sir. [Exit.

Edm. 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!-
Brother, a word: descend.-Brother, I say:

Enter EDGAR.

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 Corn-
wall?

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.

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, conjuring the moon
To stand his auspicious mistress :-
But where is he?

Glo.

Not in this land shall he remain uncaught;
And found, despatch. The noble duke my master,
My worthy arch and patron, 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.

Edm. When I dissuaded him from his intent, And found him pight to do it, with curst speech I threatened to discover him: he replied, “Thou unpossessing bastard! dost thou think, If I would stand against thee, would the reposal Of any trust, virtue, or worth, in thee,

Make thy words faithed? No: what should I deny (As this I would; ay, though thou didst produce My very character), I'd turn it all

To thy suggestion, plot, and damnéd practice:
And thou must make a dullard of the world,
If they not thought the profits of my death
Were very pregnant and potential spurs
To make thee seek it."

Glo. I know not, madam: 'tis too bad, too bad. Edm. Yes, madam, he was of that consort. Reg. No marvel then, though he were ill affected:

'Tis they have put him on the old man's death,
To have the waste and spoil of his revenues.
I have this present evening from my sister
Been well informed of them; and with such
cautions,

That, if they come to sojourn at my house,
I'll not be there.
Corn. Nor I, assure thee, Regan.-
Edmund, I hear that you have shewn your father
A childlike office.

I shall serve you, sir,

Edm. Truly, however else. Glo.

For him I thank your grace. Corn. You know not why we came to visit you,— Reg. Thus out of season; threading darkeyed night.

Occasions, noble Gloster, of some poize,
Wherein we must have use of your advice:-
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.
Glo.
I serve you, madam :
Your graces are right welcome.

[Exeunt.

Stew. Why, then I care not for thee. Kent. If I had thee in Lipsbury pinfold, 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 knave; a rascal; an eater of broken meats; a base, proud, shallow, beggarly, threesuited, hundred-pound, filthy worsted-stocking knave; a lily-livered, action-taking knave; a whoreson, glass-gazing, superserviceable, finical rogue; one-trunk-inheriting slave; one that wouldst be a bawd, in way of good service; and art nothing but the composition of a knave, beggar, coward, pander, and the son and heir of a mongrel bitch: one whom I will beat into clamorous whining, if thou deniest the least syllable 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-faced varlet art thou, to deny thou know'st me! Is it two days ago since I tripped up thy heels and beat thee, before the king? Draw, you rogue; for, though it be night, the moon shines: I'll make a sop o'the moonshine of you. Draw, you whoreson 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 shanks,—draw, you rascal: come your ways. Stew. Help, ho! murder! help!

Kent. Strike, you slave: stand, rogue, stand: you neat slave, strike! [Beating him.

Stew. Help, ho! murder; murder!

Enter EDMUND, CORNWALL, REGAN, GLOSTER, and Servants.

Edm. How now? What's the matter?-Part! Kent. With you, goodman boy, if you please : come, I'll flesh you; come on, young master. Glo. Weapons! arms! What's the matter here? Corn. Keep peace, upon your lives: He dies that strikes again. What is the matter? Reg. The messengers from our sister and the

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

Corn. Speak yet, how grew your quarrel? Stew. This ancient ruffian, sir, whose life I have spared

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 may grey beard, you wagtail!

Corn. Peace, sirrah!

You beastly knave, know you no reverence?
Kent. Yes, sir; but anger has a privilege.
Corn. Why art thou angry?

Kent. That such a slave as this should wear a

sword,

Who wears no honesty. Such smiling rogues as these,

Like rats, oft bite the holy cords atwain
Which are too intrinse t' unloose: smooth every

passion

That in the natures of their lords rebels;
Bring oil to fire, snow to their colder moods;
Renege, affirm, and turn their halcyon beaks
With every 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's his offence?

Kent. His countenance likes me not. Corn. No more, perchance, does mine, or his, or hers.

Kent. Sir, 't is 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.

Reg.

Sir, being his knave, I will. [Stocks brought out. Corn. This is a fellow of the self-same colour Our sister speaks of.-Come, bring away the stocks.

Glo. 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 and contemned'st wretches, For pilferings and most common trespasses, Are punished with. The king must take it ill, That he, so slightly valued in his messenger, Should have him thus restrained.

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!-Nothing almost sees miracles,
But misery. I know 't is from Cordelia ;
Who hath most fortunately been informed
Of my obscured course; and shall find time
From this enormous state,-seeking to give
Losses their remedies.-All weary and o'er-
watched,

Take vantage, heavy eyes, not to behold
This shameful lodging.

Fortune, good night: smile once more; turn
thy wheel!
[He sleeps.

SCENE III-A Part of the Heath.
Enter EDGAR.

Edg. I heard myself proclaimed;
And, by the happy hollow of a tree,
Escaped/the hunt. No port is free; no place,
That guard and most unusual vigilance
Does not attend my taking. While I may 'scape,
I will preserve myself: and am bethought
To take the basest and most poorest shape
That ever penury, in contempt of man,
Brought near to beast. My face I'll grime with
filth;

Blanket my loins; elf all my hair in knots;
And with presented nakedness outface
The winds and persecutions of the sky.
The country gives me proof and precedent
Of Bedlam beggars, who, with roaring voices,
Strike in their numbed and mortified bare arms
Pins, wooden pricks, nails, sprigs of rosemary;
And with this horrible object, from low farms,