Draw, you rogue; for though it be night, yet the moon shines: I'll make a sop o' the moonshine of you.

[Drawing his sword. Draw, you whoreson cullionly barber-monger, draw. Osw. 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.

Osw. Help, ho! murder! help!

Kent. Strike, you slave; stand, rogue, stand; you neat slave, strike.

[Beats him.

Osw. Help, ho! murder! murder!

Enter EDMUND, with his rapier drawn.

Edm. How now! What's

the matter?

Kent. With you, goodman [Parting them. boy, an you please: come, I'll flesh ye; come on, young

master.

Enter CORNWALL, REGAN, GLOUCESTER, and Servants.

Glou. 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 king. Corn. What is your difference? speak.

Osw. I am scarce in breath, my lord.

Kent. No marvel, you have so bestirred your valour. You cowardly rascal, nature dis

claims in thee: a tailor made thee.

Corn. Thou art a strange fellow; a tailor make a man? 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 o' the trade.

Corn. Speak yet, how grew your quarrel?

Osw. 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 my grey beard, you wagtail?

Corn. Peace, sirrah!

You beastly knave, know you no reverence?

Kent. Yes, sir; but anger hath 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 a-twain

Which are too intrinse t' un