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. If it be true, all vengeance comes too short, Which can pursue th' offender. How does my lord?

4

Glo. O Madam, my old heart is crack'd, it's

crack'd.

Reg. What, did my father's godson seek your life?

He whom my father nam'd? Your Edgar?

Glé. O lady, lady, Shame would have it hid.

Reg. Was he not companion with the riotous

Knights,

That tend upon my father?

Glo. I know not, Madam. 'Tis too bad, too bad. Edm. Yes, Madam, he was of that confort.

Reg. No marvel then, though he were ill affected;

'Tis they have put him on the old man's death,
To have th' expence and waste of his revenues.
I have this pretent evening from my fifter
Been-well inform'd of them; and with fuch cautions,
That if they come to fojourn at my house,
I'll not be there.

Corn. Nor I, I affure thee, Regan.
Edmund, I hear, that you have thewn your father
A child-like office.

Edm. 'Twas my duty, Sir.

Glo. He did bewray his practice, and receiv'd This hurt you fee striving to apprehend him. Corn. Is he pursu'd?

Glo. Ay, my good lord.

Corn. If he be taken, he shall never more Be fear'd of doing harm. Make your own purpose,

How in my ftrength you please. As for you, Edmund,

Whofe

τ

Whose virtue and obedience in this instance
So much commends itself, you shall be ours;
Natures of fuch deep Trust we shall much need:
You we first seize on.

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,

night;

threading dark-ey'd

* Occafions, noble Glo'ster, of some prize,
Wherein we must have use of your advice.
Our father he hath writ, so hath our sister,
Of diff rences, which I best thought it fit

- To answer + from our home: the sev'ral messengers
From hence attend despatch. Our good old friend,
Lay Comforts to your bofom; and bestow
Your needful counsel to our businesses,
Which crave the instant ufe.

-threading dark-ty'd Night.) a Needle in the dark.

I have not ventur'd to displace
this Reading, tho' I have great
Sufpicion that the Poet wrote,
-treading dark-ey'd Night.
i. e. travelling in it. The other
carries too obscure and mean an
Allufion. It must either be
borrow'd from the Cant-phrafe
of tbreading of Alleys, i. e. go-
ing thro' bye passages to avoid
the high Streets; or to threading

[Exeunt.

THEов.

The quarto reads, -threat'ning dark eyed night. 2 Occafions, noble Glo'ster, of Some PRIZE,] We should

read, POISE, i.e. weight.

WARBURTON.

Why not prize or price for va

lue ?

3-from our home:] Not at home, but at some other place.

Enter. Kent, and Steward, feverally.

Stew. + Good dawning to thee, friend. Art of this

houfe ?

Kent. Ay.

Stew. Where may we set our horses ?

Kent: I'th' mire.

Stew. Pr'ythee, if thou lov'st me, tell me.

Kent. I love thee not.

Stew. Why then I care not for thee.

Kent. If I had thee in Lipflu y 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, three-fuited, hundred-pound, filthy, worsted stocking knave; a lillyliver'd, action-taking knave; a whorson, glass-gazing, fuper-ferviceable, finical rogue; one-trunk-inheriting flave; one that would'st be a bawd in way of

4 Grod evening] In the common editions it is GOOD DAWNING, thơ' the time be apparently night. But this was not Shaktfrear's phrase. The common editions wer: corrupt indeed, and Should have given it us, as the poet wrote it, GOOD DOWNING. ...good rest, the common evening-falutation of that time. WARBURTON.

It is plainly past evening, and may, without any inconvenience, be supposed to be dawning.

s Lipsbury pinfold.) The alluLon which feems to be contained in this line I do not understand.

In the violent eruption of reproaches which bursts from Kent in this dialogue, there are some epithets which the commentators have left unexpounded, and which I am not very able to make clear. Of a threefuited knave I know not the meaning, unless it be that he has different dresses for different-occupations. Lilly-liver'd is cowardly; white-blooded and whiteliver'd are still in vulgar ufe. An one-trunk inheriting flave I take to be a wearer of old caftoff cloaths, an inheritor of torn brecches.

good good fervice; and art nothing but the compofition of a knave, beggar, coward, pander, and the fon and heir of a mungril bitch; one whom I will beat into clam'rous whining, if thou deny'st the least fyllable, 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-fac'd varlet art thou, to de. ny thou know'st me? Is it two days ago, fince I tript up thy heels, and beat thee before the King? Draw, you rogue: for tho' it be night, yet the moon shines; I'll make a fop o'th' moonshine of you. You whorefon, cullionly * barber-monger, draw..

F

[Drawing bis fword.

Stere. Away, I have nothing to do with thee. Kent. Draw, you rascal. You come with letters against the King, and take 7 Vanity the Puppet's part, against the royalty of her father. Draw, you rogue, or I'll fo carbonado your shanks-Draw, you. rascal. Come your ways.

Stew. Help, ho! murder! help!Kent. Strike, you flave. Stand, rogue, stand, you. † neat lave, strike.

Stew. Help, ho! murder!

I'll make a fop d'th' moon... shine of you;] This is equivalent to our modern phrase of making the fun shine thro' ary one. But, alluding to the natural philofophy of that time, it is obscure. The Peripatetics thought, tho' falfly, that the rays of the moon were cold and moist. The speaker therefore fays, he would make a fop of his antagonist, which should abforb the humi dity of the moon's rays, by letting them into his guts. For this reason, Shakespeare in RoE3

[Beating Lim.

murder!
meo and Juliet fays,

-the moonshine's watry beams. And in Midjummer-Night's dream, Quenched in the choft beams of the watry moon.

WARBURTON.

barber-morger,] Of this word

I do not clearly fee the force.

7 Vanity the puppet.) Alluding to the mysteries or allegorical shews, in which Vanity, Ini quity, and over vices, were perfonified.

+ nea: flave,] You mere flave, you very flave.

SCENE

Enter Edmund, Cornwall, Regan, Glo'fter, and Servants.

Edm. How now, what's the matter? Part-
Kent. With you, goodman boy, if you please.
Come, I'll flesh ye. Come on, young master.
Glo. Weapons? arms? what's the matter here?
Corn. Keep peace, upon your lives, he dies, that
strikes again. What's the matter?

Reg. The messengers from our sitter 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 all share in thee. A tailor made thee.

Corn. Thou art a strange fellow. A tailor make a man ?

Kent. Ay, a taylor, Sir; a stone-cutter, or a painter could not have made him so ill, tho' they had been but two hours o' th' trade.

Corn. Speak yet, how grew your quarrel ?

Stew. This ancient ruffian, Sir, whose life I have spar'd at fuit of his grey beard

Kent. Thou whorefon zed! thou unnecessary letter! My lord, if you will give me leave, I will tread