The Tragedie of King Lear.Lear.Deny to speake with me?
[1315]
They are sicke, they are weary,They haue trauail'd all the night? meere fetches,The images of reuolt and flying off.Fetch me a better answer.Glo.My deere Lord,
[1320]
You know the fiery quality of the Duke,How vnremoueable and fixt he isIn his owne course.Lear.Vengeance, Plague, Death, Confusion:Fiery? What quality? Why
Gloster,
Gloster
,
I'ld speake with the Duke of
Cornewall, and his wife.
Glo.
[1325]
Well my good Lord, I haue inform'd them so.
Lear.
Inform'd them? Do'st thou vnderstand me
man.
Glo.
I my good Lord.
Lear.The King would speake with
Cornwall,
The deere Father
[1330]
Would with his Daughter speake, commands, tends, seruice, Are they inform'd of this? My breath and blood:Fiery? The fiery Duke, tell the hot Duke that ———No, but not yet, may be he is not well,Infirmity doth still neglect all
office,
[1335]
Whereto our health is bound, we are not our selues,When Nature being opprest, commands the mindTo suffer with the body; Ile forbeare,And am fallen out with my more headier will,To take the indispose'd and sickly fit,
[1340]
For the sound man. Death on my state: whereforeShould he sit heere? This act perswades me,That this remotion of the Duke and herIs practise only. Giue me my Seruant forth;Goe tell the Duke, and's wife, Il'd speake with them:
[1345]
Now, presently: bid them come forth and heare me,Or at their Chamber doore Ile beate the Drum,Till it crie sleepe to death.Glo.
I would haue all well betwixt you.
Exit.Lear.
Oh me my heart! My rising heart! But downe.
Foole.
[1350]
Cry to it Nunckle, as the Cockney did to the
Eeles, when
she put 'em i'th' Paste aliue, she
knapt 'em
o'th' coxcombs with a
sticke, and cryed downe wantons,
downe; 'twas
her Brother, that in pure kindnesse to his
Horse buttered
his Hay.
Enter Cornewall, Regan,
Gloster, Seruants.
Lear.
[1355]
Good morrow to you both.
Corn.
Haile to your Grace.
Kent here set at
liberty.
Reg.
I am glad to see your Highnesse.
Lear.Regan, I thinke you are. I know what
reason
I haue to thinke so, if thou should'st not be
glad,
[1360]
I would diuorce me from thy Mother Tombe,Sepulchring an Adultresse. O are you free?Some other time for that. Beloued
Regan,
Thy Sisters naught: oh
Regan, she
hath tied
Sharpe‐tooth'd vnkindnesse, like a vulture
heere,
[1365]
I can scarce speake to thee, thou'lt not beleeueWith how deprau'd a quality. Oh
Regan.
Reg.I pray you Sir, take patience, I haue hopeYou lesse know how to value her desert,Then she to scant her dutie.Lear.
[1370]
Say? How is that?
Reg.I cannot thinke my Sister in the leastWould faile her Obligation. If Sir perchanceShe haue restrained the Riots of your Followres,'Tis on such ground, and to such wholesome end,
Reg.O Sir, you are old,Nature in you stands on the very VergeOf his confine: you should be rul'd, and led
[1380]
By some discretion, that discernes your stateBetter then you your selfe: therefore I pray you,That to our Sister, you do make returne,Say you haue wrong'd her.Lear.Aske her forgiuenesse?
[1385]
Do you but marke how this becomes the house?Deere daughter, I confesse that I am old;Age is vnnecessary: on my knees I begge,That you'l vouchsafe me Rayment, Bed, and Food.Reg.Good Sir, no more: these are vnsightly trickes:
[1390]
Returne you to my Sister.Lear.Neuer
Regan:She hath abated me of halfe my Traine;Look'd blacke vpon me, strooke me with her
Tongue
Most Serpent‐like, vpon the very Heart.
[1395]
All the stor'd Vengeances of Heauen, fallOn her ingratefull top: strike her yong bonesYou taking Ayres, with Lamenesse.Corn.
Fye sir, fie.
Le.You nimble Lightnings, dart your blinding flames
[1400]
Into her scornfull eyes: Infect her Beauty,You Fen‐suck'd Fogges, drawne by the powrfull
Sunne,
To fall, and blister.Reg.O the blest Gods!So will you wish on me, when the rash moode is on.Lear.
[1405]
No
Regan, thou shalt neuer haue my
curse:
Thy tender‐hefted Nature shall not giueThee o're to harshnesse: Her eyes are fierce, but
thine
Do comfort, and not burne. 'Tis not in theeTo grudge my pleasures, to cut off my Traine,
[1410]
To bandy hasty words, to scant my sizes,And in conclusion, to oppose the boltAgainst my comming in. Thou better know'stThe Offices of Nature, bond of Childhood,Effects of Curtesie, dues of Gratitude:
[1415]
Thy halfe o'th' Kingdome hast thou not
forgot,
Wherein I thee endow'd.Reg.
Good Sir, to'th' purpose.
Tucket
within.
Lear.
Who put my man i'th' Stockes?
Enter Steward.Corn.
What Trumpet's that?
Reg.
[1420]
I know't, my Sisters: this approues her Letter,That she would soone be heere. Is your Lady come?Lear.This is a Slaue, whose easie borrowed prideDwels in the sickly grace of her he followes.Out Varlet, from my sight.Corn.
[1425]
What meanes your Grace?
Enter Gonerill.Lear.Who stockt my Seruant?
Regan, I haue
good hope
Thou did'st not know on't.Who comes here? O Heauens!If you do loue old men; if your sweet sway
[1430]
Allow Obedience; if you your selues are old,Make it your cause: Send downe, and take my part.Art not asham'd to looke vpon this Beard?O
Regan, will you take her by the
hand?
Gon.Why not by'th' hand Sir? How haue I
offended?
[1435]
All's not offence that indiscretion
findes,
And dotage termes so.Lear.O sides, you are too tough!Will you yet hold?How came my man i'th' Stockes?Corn.
[1440]
I set him there, Sir: but his owne DisordersDeseru'd
finicall Rogue, one
Trunke‐inheriting slaue, one that
would'st be a Baud in way of good seruice,
and art nothing
but the composition of a Knaue,
Begger, Coward,
Pandar, and the Sonne and Heire of a
Mungrill Bitch,
one whom I will beate into clamours
whining, if thou
[1055]
deny'st the least
sillable of thy addition.
Stew.
Why, what a monstrous Fellow art thou, thus
to raile
on one, that is neither knowne of thee, nor
knowes
thee?
Kent.
What a brazen‐fac'd Varlet art thou, to deny
[1060]
thou knowest me? Is it two dayes since I tript vp
thy
heeles, and beate thee before the King? Draw you
rogue,
for though it be night, yet the Moone shines, Ile make a
sop oth' Moonshine of you, you whoreson Cullyenly
Barber‐monger, draw.
Stew.
[1065]
Away, I haue nothing to do with thee.
Kent.
Draw you Rascall, you come with Letters against
the King, and take Vanitie the puppets part,
against
the Royaltie of her Father: draw you
Rogue, or
Ile so carbonado your shanks, draw you Rascall,
come
[1070]
your waies.
Ste.
Helpe, ho, murther, helpe.
Kent.
Strike you slaue: stand rogue, stand you neat
slaue, strike.
Stew.
Helpe hoa, murther, murther.
Enter Bastard,
Cornewall, Regan, Gloster, Seruants.
Bast.
[1075]
How now, what's the matter? Part.
Kent.With you goodman Boy, if you please, come,Ile flesh ye, come on yong Master.Glo.
Weapons? Armes? What's the matter here?
Cor.
Keepe peace vpon your liues, he dies that strikes
[1080]
againe, what is the matter?
Reg.
The Messengers from our Sister, and the King?
Cor.
What is your difference, speake?
Stew.
I am scarce in breath my Lord.
Kent.
No Maruell, you haue so bestir'd your valour,
[1085]
you cowardly Rascall, nature disclaimes in thee: a Taylor
made thee.
Cor.
Thou art a strange fellow, a Taylor make a man?
Kent.
A Taylor Sir, a Stone‐cutter, or a Painter, could
not haue made him so ill, though they had bin but two
[1090]
yeares oth'trade.
Cor.
Speake yet, how grew your quarrell?
Ste.
This ancient Ruffian Sir, whose life I haue spar'd
at sute of his gray‐beard.
Kent.
Thou whoreson Zed, thou vnnecessary letter:
[1095]
my Lord, if you
will giue me leaue, I will tread this vnboulted
villaine into morter, and daube the wall of a
Iakes
with him. Spare my gray‐beard, you wagtaile?
Cor.Peace sirrah,You beastly knaue, know you no reuerence?Kent.
[1100]
Yes Sir, but anger hath a priuiledge.
Cor.
Why art thou angrie?
Kent.That such a slaue as this should weare a Sword,Who weares no honesty: such smiling rogues as these,Like Rats oft bite the holy cords a twaine,
[1105]
Which are t'intrince, t'vnloose: smooth euery
passion
That in the natures of their Lords rebell,Being oile to fire, snow to the colder moodes,Reuenge, affirme, and turne their Halcion beakesWith euery gall, and varry of their Masters,
[1110]
Knowing naught (like dogges) but following:A plague vpon your Epilepticke visage,Smoile you my speeches, as I were a Foole?Goose, if I had you vpon
Sarum Plaine,
I'ld driue ye cackling home to
Camelot.
Corn.
[1115]
What art thou mad old Fellow?
Glost.
How fell you out, say that?
Kent.No contraries hold more antipathy,Then I, and such a knaue.Corn.Why do'st thou call him Knaue?
[1120]
What is his fault?Kent.
His countenance likes me not.
Cor.
No more perchance do's mine, nor his, nor hers
Kent.Sir, 'tis my occupation to be plaine,I haue seene better faces in my Time,
[1125]
Then stands on any shoulder that I seeBefore me, at this instant.Corn.This is some Fellow,Who hauing beene prais'd for bluntnesse, doth
affect
A saucy roughnes, and constraines the garb
[1130]
Quite from his Nature. He cannot flatter he,An honest mind and plaine, he must speake truth,And they will take it so, if not, hee's plaine.These kind of Knaues I know, which in this plainnesseHarbour more craft, and more corrupter ends,
[1135]
Then twenty silly‐ducking obseruants,That stretch their duties nicely.Kent.Sir, in good faith, in sincere verity,Vnder th'allowance of your great aspect,Whose influence like the wreath of radient fire
[1140]
On flickring
Phoebus
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
beguild
you in a plaine accent, was a plaine
Knaue, which
[1145]
for my part I will not be, though I should
win your
displeasure to entreat me too't.
Corn.
What was th'offence you gaue him?
Ste.I neuer gaue him any:It pleas'd the King his Master very late
[1150]
To strike at me vpon his misconstruction,When he compact, and flattering his displeasureTript me behind: being downe, insulted, rail'd,And put vpon him such a deale of Man,That worthied him, got praises of the King,
[1155]
For him attempting, who was selfe‐subdued,And in the fleshment of this dead exploit,Drew on me here againe.Kent.None of these Rogues, and CowardsBut
Aiax is there Foole.
Corn.
[1160]
Fetch forth the Stocks?You stubborne ancient Knaue, you reuerent Bragart,Wee'l teach you.Kent.Sir, I am too old to learne:Call not your Stocks for me, I serue the King.
[1165]
On whose imployment I was sent to you,You shall doe small respects, show too bold maliceAgainst the Grace, and Person of my Master,Stocking his Messenger.Corn.Fetch forth the Stocks;
[1170]
As I haue life and Honour, there shall he sit till Noone.Reg.
Till noone? till night my Lord, and all night too.
Kent.Why Madam, if I were your Fathers dog,You should not vse me so.Reg.
Sir, being his Knaue, I will.
Stocks brought
out.
Cor.
[1175]
This is a Fellow of the selfe same colour,Our Sister speakes of. Come, bring away the Stocks.Glo.Let me beseech your Grace, not to do so,The King his Master, needs must take it illThat he so slightly valued in his Messenger,
[1180]
Should haue him thus restrained.Cor.
Ile answere that.
Reg.My Sister may recieue it much more worsse,To haue her Gentleman abus'd, assaulted.Corn.
Come my Lord, away.
Exit.Glo.
[1185]
I am sorry for thee friend, 'tis the Dukes pleasure,Whose disposition all the world well knowsWill not be rub'd nor stopt, Ile entreat for
thee.
Kent.Pray do not Sir, I haue watch'd and trauail'd
hard,
Some time I shall sleepe out, the rest Ile
whistle:
[1190]
A good mans fortune may grow out at heeles:Giue you good morrow.Glo.The Duke's too blame in this,'Twill be ill taken.Exit.Kent.Good King, that must approue the common saw,
[1195]
Thou out of Heauens benediction com'stTo the warme Sun.Approach thou Beacon to this vnder Globe,That by thy comfortable Beames I mayPeruse this Letter. Nothing almost sees miracles
[1200]
But miserie. I know 'tis from
Cordelia,
Who hath most fortunately beene inform'dOf my obscured course. And shall finde timeFrom this enormous State, seeking to giueLosses their remedies. All weary and
o're‐watch'd,
[1205]
Take vantage heauie eyes, not to beholdThis shamefull lodging. Fortune goodnight,Smile once more, turne thy wheele.
<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<div type="scene" n="2">
<head rend="italic center">Scena Secunda.</head>
<head type="supplied">[Act 2, Scene 2]</head>
<stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Kent, and Steward seuerally.</stage>
<sp who="#F-lr-ste">
<speaker rend="italic">Stew.</speaker>
<p n="1034">Good dawning to thee Friend, art of this house?</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-ken">
<speaker rend="italic">Kent.</speaker>
<p n="1035">I.</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-ste">
<speaker rend="italic">Stew.</speaker>
<p n="1036">Where may we set our horses?</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-ken">
<speaker rend="italic">Kent.</speaker>
<p n="1037">I'th' myre.</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-ste">
<speaker rend="italic">Stew.</speaker>
<p n="1038">Prythee, if thou lou'st me, tell me.</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-ken">
<speaker rend="italic">Kent.</speaker>
<p n="1039">I loue thee not.</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-ste">
<speaker rend="italic">Ste.</speaker>
<p n="1040">Why then I care not for thee.</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-ken">
<speaker rend="italic">Kent.</speaker>
<p n="1041">If I had thee in<hi rend="italic">Lipsbury</hi>Pinfold, I would make
<lb n="1042"/>thee care for me.</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-ste">
<speaker rend="italic">Ste.</speaker>
<p n="1043">Why do'st thou vse me thus? I know thee not.</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-ken">
<speaker rend="italic">Kent.</speaker>
<p n="1044">Fellow I know thee.</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-ste">
<speaker rend="italic">Ste.</speaker>
<p n="1045">Wha<gap/>do'st thou know me for?</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-ken">
<speaker rend="italic">Kent.</speaker>
<p n="1046">A Knaue, a Rascall, an eater of broken meates, a
<lb n="1047"/>base, proud, shallow, beggerly, three‐suited‐hundred
<lb n="1048"/>pound, filthy woosted‐stocking knaue, a Lilly‐liuered,
<lb n="1049"/>action‐taking, whoreson glasse‐gazing super‐seruiceable
<lb n="1050"/>finicall Rogue, one Trunke‐inheriting slaue, one that
<lb n="1051"/>would'st be a Baud in way of good seruice, and art nothing
<lb n="1052"/>but the composition of a Knaue, Begger, Coward,
<lb n="1053"/>Pandar, and the Sonne and Heire of a Mungrill Bitch,
<lb n="1054"/>one whom I will beate into clamours whining, if thou
<lb n="1055"/>deny'st the least sillable of thy addition.</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-ste">
<speaker rend="italic">Stew.</speaker>
<p n="1056">Why, what a monstrous Fellow art thou, thus
<lb n="1057"/>to raile on one, that is neither knowne of thee, nor
<lb n="1058"/>knowes thee?</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-ken">
<speaker rend="italic">Kent.</speaker>
<p n="1059">What a brazen‐fac'd Varlet art thou, to deny
<lb n="1060"/>thou knowest me? Is it two dayes since I tript vp thy
<lb n="1061"/>heeles, and beate thee before the King? Draw you rogue,</p>
<pb facs="FFimg:axc0802-0.jpg" n="292"/>
<cb n="1"/>
<p n="1062">for though it be night, yet the Moone shines, Ile make a
<lb n="1063"/>sop oth' Moonshine of you, you whoreson Cullyenly
<lb n="1064"/>Barber‐monger, draw.</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-ste">
<speaker rend="italic">Stew.</speaker>
<p n="1065">Away, I haue nothing to do with thee.</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-ken">
<speaker rend="italic">Kent.</speaker>
<p n="1066">Draw you Rascall, you come with Letters against
<lb n="1067"/>the King, and take Vanitie the puppets part, against
<lb n="1068"/>the Royaltie of her Father: draw you Rogue, or
<lb n="1069"/>Ile so carbonado your shanks, draw you Rascall, come
<lb n="1070"/>your waies.</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-ste">
<speaker rend="italic">Ste.</speaker>
<p n="1071">Helpe, ho, murther, helpe.</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-ken">
<speaker rend="italic">Kent.</speaker>
<p n="1072">Strike you slaue: stand rogue, stand you neat
<lb n="1073"/>slaue, strike.</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-ste">
<speaker rend="italic">Stew.</speaker>
<p n="1074">Helpe hoa, murther, murther.</p>
</sp>
<stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Bastard, Cornewall, Regan, Gloster, Seruants.</stage>
<sp who="#F-lr-bas">
<speaker rend="italic">Bast.</speaker>
<p n="1075">How now, what's the matter? Part.</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-ken">
<speaker rend="italic">Kent.</speaker>
<l n="1076">With you goodman Boy, if you please, come,</l>
<l n="1077">Ile flesh ye, come on yong Master.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-glo">
<speaker rend="italic">Glo.</speaker>
<p n="1078">Weapons? Armes? What's the matter here?</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-cor">
<speaker rend="italic">Cor.</speaker>
<p n="1079">Keepe peace vpon your liues, he dies that strikes
<lb n="1080"/>againe, what is the matter?</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-reg">
<speaker rend="italic">Reg.</speaker>
<p n="1081">The Messengers from our Sister, and the King?</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-cor">
<speaker rend="italic">Cor.</speaker>
<p n="1082">What is your difference, speake?</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-ste">
<speaker rend="italic">Stew.</speaker>
<p n="1083">I am scarce in breath my Lord.</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-ken">
<speaker rend="italic">Kent.</speaker>
<p n="1084">No Maruell, you haue so bestir'd your valour,
<lb n="1085"/>you cowardly Rascall, nature disclaimes in thee: a Taylor
<lb n="1086"/>made thee.</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-cor">
<speaker rend="italic">Cor.</speaker>
<p n="1087">Thou art a strange fellow, a Taylor make a man?</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-ken">
<speaker rend="italic">Kent.</speaker>
<p n="1088">A Taylor Sir, a Stone‐cutter, or a Painter, could
<lb n="1089"/>not haue made him so ill, though they had bin but two
<lb n="1090"/>yeares oth'trade.</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-cor">
<speaker rend="italic">Cor.</speaker>
<p n="1091">Speake yet, how grew your quarrell?</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-ste">
<speaker rend="italic">Ste.</speaker>
<p n="1092">This ancient Ruffian Sir, whose life I haue spar'd
<lb n="1093"/>at sute of his gray‐beard.</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-ken">
<speaker rend="italic">Kent.</speaker>
<p n="1094">Thou whoreson Zed, thou vnnecessary letter:
<lb n="1095"/>my Lord, if you will giue me leaue, I will tread this vnboulted
<lb n="1096"/>villaine into morter, and daube the wall of a
<lb n="1097"/>Iakes with him. Spare my gray‐beard, you wagtaile?</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-cor">
<speaker rend="italic">Cor.</speaker>
<l n="1098">Peace sirrah,</l>
<l n="1099">You beastly knaue, know you no reuerence?</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-ken">
<speaker rend="italic">Kent.</speaker>
<p n="1100">Yes Sir, but anger hath a priuiledge.</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-cor">
<speaker rend="italic">Cor.</speaker>
<p n="1101">Why art thou angrie?</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-ken">
<speaker rend="italic">Kent.</speaker>
<l n="1102">That such a slaue as this should weare a Sword,</l>
<l n="1103">Who weares no honesty: such smiling rogues as these,</l>
<l n="1104">Like Rats oft bite the holy cords a twaine,</l>
<l n="1105">Which are t'intrince, t'vnloose: smooth euery passion</l>
<l n="1106">That in the natures of their Lords rebell,</l>
<l n="1107">Being oile to fire, snow to the colder moodes,</l>
<l n="1108">Reuenge, affirme, and turne their Halcion beakes</l>
<l n="1109">With euery gall, and varry of their Masters,</l>
<l n="1110">Knowing naught (like dogges) but following:</l>
<l n="1111">A plague vpon your Epilepticke visage,</l>
<l n="1112">Smoile you my speeches, as I were a Foole?</l>
<l n="1113">Goose, if I had you vpon<hi rend="italic">Sarum</hi>Plaine,</l>
<l n="1114">I'ld driue ye cackling home to<hi rend="italic">Camelot</hi>.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-crn">
<speaker rend="italic">Corn.</speaker>
<p n="1115">What art thou mad old Fellow?</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-glo">
<speaker rend="italic">Glost.</speaker>
<p n="1116">How fell you out, say that?</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-ken">
<speaker rend="italic">Kent.</speaker>
<l n="1117">No contraries hold more antipathy,</l>
<l n="1118">Then I, and such a knaue.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-crn">
<speaker rend="italic">Corn.</speaker>
<l n="1119">Why do'st thou call him Knaue?</l>
<l n="1120">What is his fault?</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-ken">
<speaker rend="italic">Kent.</speaker>
<p n="1121">His countenance likes me not.</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-cor">
<speaker rend="italic">Cor.</speaker>
<p n="1122">No more perchance do's mine, nor his, nor hers<gap/>
</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-ken">
<speaker rend="italic">Kent.</speaker>
<l n="1123">Sir, 'tis my occupation to be plaine,</l>
<l n="1124">I haue seene better faces in my Time,</l>
<cb n="2"/>
<l n="1125">Then stands on any shoulder that I see</l>
<l n="1126">Before me, at this instant.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-crn">
<speaker rend="italic">Corn.</speaker>
<l n="1127">This is some Fellow,</l>
<l n="1128">Who hauing beene prais'd for bluntnesse, doth affect</l>
<l n="1129">A saucy roughnes, and constraines the garb</l>
<l n="1130">Quite from his Nature. He cannot flatter he,</l>
<l n="1131">An honest mind and plaine, he must speake truth,</l>
<l n="1132">And they will take it so, if not, hee's plaine.</l>
<l n="1133">These kind of Knaues I know, which in this plainnesse</l>
<l n="1134">Harbour more craft, and more corrupter ends,</l>
<l n="1135">Then twenty silly‐ducking obseruants,</l>
<l n="1136">That stretch their duties nicely.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-ken">
<speaker rend="italic">Kent.</speaker>
<l n="1137">Sir, in good faith, in sincere verity,</l>
<l n="1138">Vnder th'allowance of your great aspect,</l>
<l n="1139">Whose influence like the wreath of radient fire</l>
<l n="1140">On flickring<hi rend="italic">Phoebus</hi>front.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-crn">
<speaker rend="italic">Corn.</speaker>
<p n="1141">What mean'st by this?</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-ken">
<speaker rend="italic">Kent.</speaker>
<p n="1142">To go out of my dialect, which you discommend
<lb n="1143"/>so much; I know Sir, I am no flatterer, he that beguild
<lb n="1144"/>you in a plaine accent, was a plaine Knaue, which
<lb n="1145"/>for my part I will not be, though I should win your
<lb n="1146"/>displeasure to entreat me too't.</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-crn">
<speaker rend="italic">Corn.</speaker>
<p n="1147">What was th'offence you gaue him?</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-ste">
<speaker rend="italic">Ste.</speaker>
<l n="1148">I neuer gaue him any:</l>
<l n="1149">It pleas'd the King his Master very late</l>
<l n="1150">To strike at me vpon his misconstruction,</l>
<l n="1151">When he compact, and flattering his displeasure</l>
<l n="1152">Tript me behind: being downe, insulted, rail'd,</l>
<l n="1153">And put vpon him such a deale of Man,</l>
<l n="1154">That worthied him, got praises of the King,</l>
<l n="1155">For him attempting, who was selfe‐subdued,</l>
<l n="1156">And in the fleshment of this dead exploit,</l>
<l n="1157">Drew on me here againe.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-ken">
<speaker rend="italic">Kent.</speaker>
<l n="1158">None of these Rogues, and Cowards</l>
<l n="1159">But<hi rend="italic">Aiax</hi>is there Foole.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-crn">
<speaker rend="italic">Corn.</speaker>
<l n="1160">Fetch forth the Stocks?</l>
<l n="1161">You stubborne ancient Knaue, you reuerent Bragart,</l>
<l n="1162">Wee'l teach you.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-ken">
<speaker rend="italic">Kent.</speaker>
<l n="1163">Sir, I am too old to learne:</l>
<l n="1164">Call not your Stocks for me, I serue the King.</l>
<l n="1165">On whose imployment I was sent to you,</l>
<l n="1166">You shall doe small respects, show too bold malice</l>
<l n="1167">Against the Grace, and Person of my Master,</l>
<l n="1168">Stocking his Messenger.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-crn">
<speaker rend="italic">Corn.</speaker>
<l n="1169">Fetch forth the Stocks;</l>
<l n="1170">As I haue life and Honour, there shall he sit till Noone.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-reg">
<speaker rend="italic">Reg.</speaker>
<p n="1171">Till noone? till night my Lord, and all night too.</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-ken">
<speaker rend="italic">Kent.</speaker>
<l n="1172">Why Madam, if I were your Fathers dog,</l>
<l n="1173">You should not vse me so.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-reg">
<speaker rend="italic">Reg.</speaker>
<p n="1174">Sir, being his Knaue, I will.<hi rend="italic">Stocks brought out.</hi>
</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-cor">
<speaker rend="italic">Cor.</speaker>
<l n="1175">This is a Fellow of the selfe same colour,</l>
<l n="1176">Our Sister speakes of. Come, bring away the Stocks.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-glo">
<speaker rend="italic">Glo.</speaker>
<l n="1177">Let me beseech your Grace, not to do so,</l>
<l n="1178">The King his Master, needs must take it ill</l>
<l n="1179">That he so slightly valued in his Messenger,</l>
<l n="1180">Should haue him thus restrained.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-cor">
<speaker rend="italic">Cor.</speaker>
<p n="1181">Ile answere that.</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-reg">
<speaker rend="italic">Reg.</speaker>
<l n="1182">My Sister may recieue it much more worsse,</l>
<l n="1183">To haue her Gentleman abus'd, assaulted.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-crn">
<speaker rend="italic">Corn.</speaker>
<p n="1184">Come my Lord, away.</p>
</sp>
<stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exit.</stage>
<sp who="#F-lr-glo">
<speaker rend="italic">Glo.</speaker>
<l n="1185">I am sorry for thee friend, 'tis the Dukes pleasure,</l>
<l n="1186">Whose disposition all the world well knows</l>
<l n="1187">Will not be rub'd nor stopt, Ile entreat for thee.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-ken">
<speaker rend="italic">Kent.</speaker>
<l n="1188">Pray do not Sir, I haue watch'd and trauail'd hard,</l>
<l n="1189">Some time I shall sleepe out, the rest Ile whistle:</l>
<l n="1190">A good mans fortune may grow out at heeles:</l>
<pb facs="FFimg:axc0803-0.jpg" n="293"/>
<cb n="1"/>
<l n="1191">Giue you good morrow.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-lr-glo">
<speaker rend="italic">Glo.</speaker>
<l n="1192">The Duke's too blame in this,</l>
<l n="1193">'Twill be ill taken.</l>
</sp>
<stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exit.</stage>
<sp who="#F-lr-ken">
<speaker rend="italic">Kent.</speaker>
<l n="1194">Good King, that must approue the common saw,</l>
<l n="1195">Thou out of Heauens benediction com'st</l>
<l n="1196">To the warme Sun.</l>
<l n="1197">Approach thou Beacon to this vnder Globe,</l>
<l n="1198">That by thy comfortable Beames I may</l>
<l n="1199">Peruse this Letter. Nothing almost sees miracles</l>
<l n="1200">But miserie. I know 'tis from<hi rend="italic">Cordelia</hi>,</l>
<l n="1201">Who hath most fortunately beene inform'd</l>
<l n="1202">Of my obscured course. And shall finde time</l>
<l n="1203">From this enormous State, seeking to giue</l>
<l n="1204">Losses their remedies. All weary and o're‐watch'd,</l>
<l n="1205">Take vantage heauie eyes, not to behold</l>
<l n="1206">This shamefull lodging. Fortune goodnight,</l>
<l n="1207">Smile once more, turne thy wheele.</l>
</sp>
</div>
