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And put upon him such a deal of Man,
That worthied him, got praises of the King,
For him attempting, who was felf-subdued,
And in the fleshment of this dead Exploit,
Drew on me here again.

Kent. None of these Rogues, and Cowards,
But Ajax is their Fool.

Corn. Fetch forth the Stocks.
You stubborn ancient Koave, you reverent Braggart,
We'll teach you.

Kent. Sir, I am too old to learn:
Call not your Stocks for me, I serve the King;
On whose imployment I was sent to you.
You shall do small Refpe&s, shew 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 fit 'till Noon.

Reg. 'l'ill Noon! 'till Night my Lord, and all Nigh: too.

Kent. Why Madam, if I were your Father's Dog,
You should not use me fo.

Reg. Sir, being his Knave, I will. [Stocks brought out.

Corn. This is a Fellow of the self-fame Colour,
Our Sister speaks of. Come, bring away the Stocks.

Glo. Let me beseech your Grace, not to do so,
The King his Master needs must take it ill,
That he's so slightly valued in his Messenger,
To have him thus restrained.
Corn, I'll answer that.

[Kent is put in the Stocksa
Reg. My Sister may receive it much more worse,
To have her Gentleman abus’d, aflaulted.
Gorn, Come, my Lord, away.

[Exit.
Glo. I am sorry for thee, Friend, 'tis the Duke's pleasure
Whose Disposition all the World well knows
Will not be rubb’d nor stopt, I'll intreat for thee.

Kent. Pray do not, Sir, I have watch'd and travel'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.

Kent. Good King, that must approve the common Saw, Thou out of Heav'ns Benedi&ion com'ít To the warm Sun, Approach thou Beacon to this under Globe, That by thy comfortable Beams I may Peruse this letter. Nothing alooft fees Miracles But Misery. I know 'tis from Cordelia, Who hath most fortunately been informid Of my obscured course. I shall find time For this enermous State, and seek to give Losses their Remedies. All weary and o'er-watch'd, Take vantage heavy Eyes, not to behold This (lamelul Lodging. Fortune, good Night, Smile once more, turn thy Wiech.

[He seepsa Enter Edgar. Edg. I have heard niy leit pr claim'd, And by the happy bollew of a Tree, Escap'd che tuer, No Port is free, no Place That guard, and moft unusual Vigilance Does not attend my taking. Whiles I may scape I will preserve my felf: And am berhought To take the bort 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, put all my Hair in knots, And with presented Nakedness o't-face The Winds, and perfecutions of the Sky. The Country gives me proof and president Of Bedlm Beggars, who with roaring Voices Strike is their numm'd ani mortified Arms, Pins, wooden Pricks, Nails, Sprigs of Rosemary ; And with this horrible Object, from low Farms, Poor pelting Villages, Sheeps-coats, and Mills, So vetimes with Lunatick Bans, fometimes with Prayers, Loforce their Charity: Poor Turlygod, poor Tom, That's something yet: Edgar I nothing am. [Exit.

Ester Lear, Fool, and Gentleman.
Lear. 'Tis ftrange that they should fo depart from hom?,
And not send back my Mefferger.

Gent. As I learn's,
The Night before, there was no purpose in them

Of

Of this remove.

Kent. Hail to chee, Noble Master.
Lear. Ha, mak'st thou this Shame thy Pastime?
Kent. No, my Lord.

Fool. Ha, ha, he wears Crewel Garters; Horses are ty'd by the Heads, Dogs and Bears by th' Neck, Monkeys by th’ Loins, and Men by th’Legs; when a Man is over-lusty at Legs, then he wears wooden nether Stocks.

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

Kent. It is both he and she,
Your Son and Daughter.

Lear. No.
Kent. Yes,
Lear. No, I say
Kent, I say, yea.
Lear. By Jupiter, I swear no.
Kent. By Juno, I swear ay.

Lear. They durst not do't;
They could not, would not do’t; 'tis worse than Murther,
To do upon respe& such violent outrage:
Resolve me with all modeft 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 Lecters to them,
E’er I was risen from the place, that shewed
My Duty kneeling, came there a reeking Post,
Stew'd in his hafte, half breathless, panting forth
From Gonerill his Mistress, Salutation;
Deliver'd Letters spight of intermillion,
Which presently they read: on those Contents
They summond 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 fawcily against your Highness,
Hawing more Man than Wit about me, I drew;

He

He rais'd the House, with loud and coward cries,
Your Son and Daughter found this Trespass worth
The Shame which here it fuffers.

Fool. Winter's not gone yet, if the wild Geese fly that way,
Fathers that wear Rags do make their Children blind,
But Fathers that bear Bags, shall see their Children kind.
Fortune, that arrane Whore, ne'er turns the key to th' Poor.
But for all this thou shalt have as many dolours for thy dear
Daughters, as thou canst tell in a Year.

Lear. Oh how this Mother swells up toward my Heart!
Hysterica passio, down thou climbing Sorrow,
Thy Element's below; where is this Daughter

Kent. With the Earl, Sir, here within,
Lear. Follow me not, stay here.

[Exit. Gen. Made you no more Offence, But what you speak of.

Kent. None;
How chance the King comes with so small a Number?

Fool. And thou hadît been set i'th' Stocks for that Question, thou'dít well deserv'd it.

Kent. Why, Fool?

Fool. We'll set thee to School to an Ant, to teach thee there's no labouring i'th' Winter. All that follow their Noses, are led by their Eyes, but blind Men; and there's not a Nose among twenty, but can smell him that's stinkingLet go thy hold, when a great Wheel runs down a Hill, left it break thy Neck with following; but the great one that goes upward, let him draw thee after. When a wife Man gives thee better Counsel, give me mine again; I would have aone but Knaves follow it, since a Fool gives it. That, Sir, which serves and seeks for Gain, And follows but for Form; Will pack when it begins to Rain, And leave thee in a Storm, And I will carry, the Fool will stay, And led the wise Man fly: The Knave turns Fool that runs away, The Fool no Knave perdy.

Enter Lear and Glofter.
Kent. Where learn'd you this, Fools
Fool. Not i'th' Stocks, Fool.

Lear.

Lear. Deny to speak with me? they are fick, they are

(weary?
They have travell’d all the Night? meer fetches,
The Images of revolt and dying off.
Fetch me a better Answer-

Glo. My dear Lord,
You know the fiery quality of the Duke,
How unremovcable and fixt he is,
In his own course.

Lear. Vengeance! Plague! Death! Confusion!
Fiery? what quality? why Gloster, Glofter,
I'd speak with the Duke of Cornwall, and his Wife.

Glo. Well, my good Lord, I have inform'd them fo.
Lear. Informd them? dost thou understand me, Man?
Glo. Ay, my good Lord.
Leař. The King would speak with Cornwall, the dear Fa-

(ther
Would with his Daughter speak, Command tends Service,
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,
Whereto our Health is bound; we are not our felves,
When Nature being oppreft, commands the Mind
To suffer with the Body's I'll forbear,
And am fall'n out with my more headier will,
To take the indispos'd and fickly fit,
For the found Man, Death on my State; wherefore
Should he fit here? This Act persuades me,
That this remotion of the Duke and her
Is practice only, give me my Servant forth;
Go, tell the Duke and's Wife, I'd speak with them:
Now presently-Bid them come forth and hear me,
Or at their Chamber Door I'll beat the Drum,
Till it cry Sleep to Death.

Glo. I would have all well betwixt you. [Exit. Lear. Oh me, my Heart! my rising Heart! but down, Fool. Cry to it, Nuncle, as the Cockney did to the Eels, when he put them i'th' Paste alive, he knapt 'em o'th'Coxcombs with a Stick, and cry'd, dawn wantons, down; 'was

his

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