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.

Glo.

What! art thou mad, old fellow?
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, nor his, nor 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.

Corn.

This is some fellow,

Who, having been prais'd for bluntness, doth affect
A saucy roughness, and constrains the garb,
Quite from his nature: he cannot flatter, he;

An honest mind and plain,

he must speak truth:

An they will take it, so; if not, he's plain.

These kind of knaves I know, which in this plainness
Harbour more craft, and more corrupter ends,
Than twenty silly ducking observants,

That stretch their duties nicely.

Kent. Sir, in good sooth, in sincere verity,

Under th' allowance of your grand aspect,

Whose influence, like the wreath of radiant fire
On flickering Phœbus' front, -

Corn.

What mean'st by this?

Kent. To go out of my dialect, which you discommend so much. I know, Sir, I am no flatterer: he that beguiled you in a plain accent was a plain knave; which, for my part, I will not be, though I should win your displeasure to entreat me to 't.

Corn. What was the offence you gave him?

Osw. I never gave him any:

slavleas'd the king, his master, very late,

Orike at me, upon his misconstruction;

When he, compact, and flattering his displeasure,
Tripp'd me behind; being down, insulted, rail'd,
And put upon him such a deal of man,

That worthied him, got praises of the king
For him attempting who was self-subdu'd;
And, in the fleshment of this dread exploit,
Drew on me here again.

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 have 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.

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 purpos'd low correction
Is such, as basest and contemned'st wretches,
For pilferings and most common trespasses,
Are punish'd with. The king must take it ill,
That he, 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. Put in his legs. -

Come, my lord, away.

[KENT is put in the Stocks. Exeunt REGAN and CORNWALL.

Glo. I am sorry for thee, friend; 't is the duke's pleasure, Whose disposition, all the world well knows,

Will not be rubb'd, nor stopp'd: 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.

A good man's fortune may grow out at heels:

Give you good morrow!

Glo. The duke 's to blame in this: "t will be ill taken. [Exit. Kent. Good king, that must approve the common saw:

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 inform'd

Of my obscured course; and shall find time
From this enormous state,

seeking to give

Losses their remedies. All weary and o'er-watch'd,
Take vantage, heavy eyes, not to behold

This shameful lodging. Fortune, good night;

Smile once more; turn thy wheel!

SCENE III.

A Part of the Heath.

Enter EDGAR.

Edg. I heard myself proclaim'd;

And by the happy hollow of a tree

Escap'd the hunt. No port is free; no place,
That guard, and most unusual vigilance,

Does not attend my taking. While I may 'scape,

[He sleeps.

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 out-face
The winds, and persecutions of the sky.
The country gives me proof and precedent
Of Bedlam beggars, who, with roaring voices,
Strike in their numb'd and mortified bare arms
Pins, wooden pricks, nails, sprigs of rosemary;
And with this horrible object, from low farms
Poor pelting villages, sheep-cotes and mills,
Sometime with lunatic baus, sometime with prayers,
Enforce their charity. Poor Turlygood! poor Tom!
That's something yet: — Edgar I nothing am.

SCENE IV.

Before GLOSTER's Castle.

Enter LEAR, Fool, and a Gentleman.

[Exit.

Lear. 'Tis strange that they should so depart from home,

And not send back my messenger.

Gent.

As I learn'd,

Fool. Ha, ha! look; he wears cruel garters. Horses are tied by the head; dogs, and bears, by the neck; monkeys by the loins, and men by the legs: when a man is over-lusty at legs, then he wears wooden nether-stocks.

Lear. What's he, that hath so much thy place mistook, To set thee here?

They durst not do 't;

They could not, would not do 't: 't is worse than murder,

To do upon respect such violent outrage.

Resolve me with all modest haste which way

Thou might'st deserve, or they impose, this usage;
Coming from us.

Kent.

My lord, when at their home
I did commend your highness' letters to them,
Ere I was risen from the place that show'd
My duty kneeling, came there a reeking post,
Stew'd in his haste, half breathless, panting forth
From Goneril, his mistress, salutations;
Deliver❜d letters, spite of intermission,

Which presently they read: on whose contents,
They summon'd up their meiny, straight took horse;
Commanded me to follow, and attend

The leisure of their answer; gave me cold looks:
And meeting here the other messenger,

Whose welcome, I perceiv'd, had poison'd mine,
(Being the very fellow which of late

Display'd so saucily against your highness)
Having more man than wit about me, drew:
He rais'd the house with loud and coward cries.
Your son and daughter found this trespass worth
The shame which here it suffers.