Th'untented woundings of a father's curfe Alb. My lord, I'm guiltless, as I'm ignorant, Of what hath mov'd you. Lear. It may be fo, my lord Hear, Nature, hear; dear goddefs, hear a father! If thou didst intend To make this creature fruitful, change thy purpofe; Into her womb convey fterility, Dry up in her the organs of increase, And from her derogate body never fpring To have a thanklefs child. Go, go, my people. Exeunt. END of the FIRST ACT, A CT II. SCENE, an Apartment in the Castle belonging to the Earl of Glocefter. Enter Edmund. HE Duke be here to-night! the better! beft! This weaves itself perforce into my business, Which I must act: briefness and fortune, work! Brother, a word; defcend; brother, I fay; My father watches; O, fir, fly this place, And Regan with him; have you nothing said Upon his party 'gainst the duke of Albany? Advise yourself. Edg. I'm fure on't not a word. Edm. I hear my father coming. 'Tis not safe To tarry here. Fly, brother! hence! away. [Exit Edgar. Glo'fter approaches. Now for a feigned fcuffle! -Yield! come before my father! lights, here, lights! Some blood drawn on me, would beget opinion [Wounds his arm. Of my more fierce encounter. I've feen drunkards C 2 To To bim, enter Glocester and fervants with torches. Glo. Now, Edmund, where's the villain? Edm. Hereftood he in the dark, his sharp fword out, Mumbling of wicked charms, conj'ring the moon To ftand's aufpicious mistress. · Glo. But where is he? Edm. Look, Sir, I bleed. Glo. Where is the villain, Edmund ? Edm. Fled this way, fir, when by no means he could Glo. Purfue him, ho! goafter. By no means, what? To his unnatʼral purpose, in fell motion Glo. Let him fly far; Not in this land fhall he remain uncaught. The noble duke, My worthy and arch patron, comes to-night; That he, which finds him, fhall deferve our thanks; Edm. When I diffuaded him from his intent, Would make thy words faith'd? no; I'd turn it all Would he deny his letter? All ports I'll bar; the villain fhall not 'scape; [Exeunt. SCENE, the Outside of the Earl of Glocefter's Castle. Enter Kent, and Steward, feverally. Stew. Good evening to thee, friend; art of this houfe? Kent. Ay. Stew. Where may we fet our horses? Kent. I'th'mire. Stew. Pr'ythee, if thou lov'ft me, tell me. Kent. I love thee not. Stew. Why then I care not for thee. Kent. If I had thee in Lipfbury 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, fhallow, beggarly, three-fuited, hundred pound, filthy worsted-stocking knave; a lillyliver'd, action-taking, knave; a whorfon, glassgazing, fuperserviceable finical tongue; one that would't be a bawd in way of good service; and art nothing but the composition of knave, beggar, coward, pander; one whom I will beat into clamourous whining, if thou deny'ft the least fyllable of thy addition. Stew. Why, what a monftrous 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, thus to deny thou know'ft me? it is 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 C 3 fhines; fhines; I'll make a fop o'th' mocnfhine of you; you whorfon, cullionly, barber-monger, draw. [Drawing his fword. Stew, 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 fo carbonado your shanks-draw, you rascal, come your ways. Stew. Help, ho! murther! help! — Kent. Strike, you flave; ftand, rogue, stand, you neat flave, ftrike. [Beating him! Stew. Help ho! murther! murther! [Exeunt. Flourish. Enter Cornwall and Regan, attended; meeting Glocefter and Edmund. Glo. Your graces are right welcome. Corn. How now, my noble friend? fince I came hither, Which I can call but now, I have heard ftrange news. Reg. If it be true, all vengeance comes too short, Which can pursue th'offender: how does my lord? Glo. Omadam, my old heart is crack'd,'tis crack'd. Reg. What, did my father's godfon feek your life? He whom my father nam'd, your Edgar? Glo. O, lady, lady, fhame 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, tho' he were ill affected; 'Tis they have put him on the old man's death, To have th'expence and wafte of his revenues. I have this prefent evening from my fifter Been well inform'd of them; and with fuch cautions, That if they come to fojourn at my houfe, I'll not be there. Corn. Nor I, affure thee, Regan, Edmund, |