3

Enter Steward and Kent, with fwords drawn. Gloc. Weapons? arms? what's the matter here? Cornw. Keep peace, upon your lives; he dies, that strikes again; what's the matter?

Regan. The meffengers from our fifter and the
king!

Cornw. What is your difference? speak.
Stew. I am scarce in breath, my lord.

Kent. No marvel, you have fo beftirr'd your valour; you cowardly rafcal! nature difclaims all fhare in thee: A tailor made thee.

Cornw. 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 fo ill, though they had been but two hours o'th' trade.

Cornw. Speak yet, how grew your quarrel?

Stew. This antient ruffian, Sir, whofe life I have fpar'd at fuit of his grey beard

Kent. Thou whorfon zed! thou unneceffary 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!

Cornu. Peace, firrah! know you no reverence?
Kent. Yes, Sir, but anger hath a privilege.

Cornw.

4

།

Cornw. Why art thou angry?

Kent. That fuch a flave as this fhould wear a

2. hd fword,"

Who wears no honefty: Such smiling rogues as thefe,
Like rats, oft bite the holy cords in twain
Too intricate to unloofe; footh every paffion,
That in the nature of their lords rebels;
Bring oil to fire, fnow to their colder moods;
Forfwear, affirm, and turn their halcyon beaks
With ev'ry gale and vary of their masters;
As knowing nought, like dogs, but following.
A plague upon your epileptick visage!
Smile you my speeches, as I were a fool?
Goofe, if I had you upon Sarum plain,
I'd drive ye cackling home to Camelot.
Cornw. What, art thou mad, old fellow?
Gloc. How fell you out? fay that.

Kent. No contraries hold more antipathy,
Than I and fuch a knave.

Cornw. Why doft thou call him knave? what is his fault?&

Kent. His countenance likes me not.

Cornw. No more, perchance, does mine, nor his,

nor hers.

Kent. Sir, 'tis my occupation to be plain;

I have feen better faces in my time,

Than

Than ftand on any fhoulders that I fee

Before me at this inftant.

Cornw. This is fome fellow,

Who having been prais'd for bluntness, doth affect
A faucy roughness; and constrains the garb,
He can't flatter, he,

Quite from his nature.

An honest mind and plain, he must speak truth;
An they will take it, fo; if not, he's plain.
These kind of knaves I know, which in this plainness
Harbour more craft, and more corrupt defign,
Than twenty filly ducking minions,

That stretch their duties nicely.

Kent. Sir, in good faith, in fincere verity, Under th' allowance of your grand afpect, Whose influence, like the wreath of radiant fire On flickering Phoebus' front

Cornw. What mean'st by this?

Kent. To go out of my dialect, which you difcommend fo much: I know, Sir, I am no flatterer; he, that beguil'd you in a plain accent, was a plain knave; which for my part I will not be, though I fhould win your displeasure to intreat me to't. Cornw. What was th' offence you gave him? Stew. I never gave him any;

It pleas'd the king his master very lately
To ftrike at me upon his mifconftruction;

When

When he, conjunct, and flatt'ring his displeasure,
Tript me behind; being down, infulted, rail'd,

And put upon him fuch a deal of man,
That he 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.

Kent. None of these rogues and cowards,
But Ajax is their fool.

Cornw. Fetch forth the stocks!

You stubborn ancient knave, you rev'rend braggart, We'll teach you

Kent. Sir, I am too old to learn:

Call not your stocks for me; I serve the king;
On whofe employment I was fent to you.
You fhall do fmall respect, fhew too bold malice
Against the grace and perfon of my mafter,
Stocking his meffenger.

Cornw. Fetch forth the ftocks;

As I have life and honour, there fhall he fit'till noon. Regan. "Till noon! 'till night, my lord, and all night too.

Kent. Why, madam, if I were your father's dog, You could not use me fo.

Regan. Sir, being his knave, I will.

[Stocks brought out.

Cornw.

Cornw. This is a fellow of the self-fame nature Our fifter speaks of. Come, bring away the stocks.

Gloc. Let me befeech your grace not to do fo; His fault is much, and the good king his master Will check him for it; but must take it ill To be thus flighted in his meffenger.

Cornw. I'll answer that.

Regan. My fifter may receive it worse, To have her gentleman abus'd, affaulted.

[Kent is put in the flocks.

Come, my lord, away. [Exeunt Regan and Cornw. Gloc. I'm forry for thee, friend; 'tis the duke's pleasure,

Whofe difpofition, all the world well knows,
Will not be check'd nor ftop'd. I'll intreat for thee.
Kent. Pray, do not, Sir; I've watch'd and tra-
vell'd hard;

Some time I fhall fleep out, the reft I'll whistle:
A good man's fortune may grow out at heels;
Give you good morrow.

Glcc. The duke's to blame in this, 'twill be ill

taken.

[Exit.

Kent. Approach, thou beacon to this under[Looking up to the moon.

globe,

That by thy comfortable beams I may

Perufe this letter. I know, 'tis from Cordelia;

Who