Imatges de pÓgina
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My father hath fet guard to take my brother,
And I have one thing of a queazy question
Which I must adt: briefness, and fortune work!
Brother, a word; defcend; Brother, I say;

To him, Enter Edgar.
My father watches; O Sir, fy this place,
Intelligence is giv’n where you are hid;
You've now the good advantage of the night
Have you not spoken 'gainst the Duke of Cornwall ?
He's coming hither, now i' th' night, i'th' hafte,
And Regan with him ; have you nothing said
Upon his Party 'gainst the Duke of Albany?
Advise yourself.

Edg. I'm sure on't, not a word.

Edm. I hear my father coming. Pardon me-
In cunning, I must draw my sword upon you.
Draw, seem to defend yourself.
Now quit you well.
Yield come before my father-light hoa, here!
Fly, brother-Torches !--so farewel [Ex. Edg.
Some blood, drawn on me, would beget opinion.

[Wounds his arm.
Of my more fierce endeavour. I've seen drunkards
Do more than this in fport. Father! father !
Stop, stop, no help?

To him, Enter Glo'ster, and fervants with torchesi
Glo. Now, Edmund, where's the villain ?

Edm. Here stood he in the dark, his Tharp sword out,
Mumbling of wicked charms, conj'ring the moon
To stand 's aufpicious mistress.

Glo. But where is he?
Edm. Look, Sir, I bleed.
Glo. Where is the villain, Edmund ?
Edm. Fled this way, Sir, when by no means he could.
Glo. Pursue him, ho! go after. By no means, whats

Edm. Persuade me to the murder of your lordship;
But that, I told him, the revenging Gods
'Gainst Parricides did all the thunder bend,

Spoke

Spoke with how manifold and strong a bond
The child was bound to th' father. -Sir, in fine,
Seeing how lothly opposite I stood
To his unnat'ral purpose, in fell motion
With his prepared sword he charges home
My unprovided body, lanc'd my arm;
And when he saw my beft alarmed spirits,
Bold in the quarrel's right, rous’d to th' encounter,
Or whether gafted by the noise I made,
Full suddenly he fled.

Glo. Let him fly far;
Not in this land fall he remain uncaught
And found; dispatch-the noble Duke my mafter,
My worthy and arch.patron, comes to-night; (13)
By his authority I will proclaim it,
That he, which finds him, shall deserve our thanks,
Bringing the murd'rous coward to the fake;
He that conceals him, death.

Edm. When I dissuaded him from his intent,
And found him pight to do it, with curft speech
I threaten'd to discover him; he replied,
Thou unpoffefling Bastard ! do't thou think,
If I would stand against thee, would the reposal
Of any truft, virtue, or worth in thee
Make thy words faith'd ? no; what I should deny,
(As this I would, although thou did'it produce
My very character) I'd turn it all
To thy suggestion, plot, and damned practice,
And thou must make a dullard of the world,
If they not thought the profits of my death
Were very pregnant and potential spurs
To make thee feek it.

[Trumpets withini Glo. O ftrange, fasten'd, villain ! Would he deny his letter? -I never got him.

$13) My wortby arch and patron.] I can meet with no authority of this word used in this manner, to signify, my prince, my chief; but always as an epitatic particle prefix'd and annex'd to another noun: and therefore I have ventur’d to suppose a transposition of the copulative, and that we ought to ready arcb-patron, as arch--duke, arch-angels arcb-bishop, &c.

Harkg

Hark, the Duke's trumpets! I know not why he comes.-
All Ports I'll bar; the villain shall not 'scape;
The Duke must grant me that; besides, his pi&ture
I will send far and near, that all the Kingdom
May have due note of him ; and of my land,
(Loyal and natural Boy !) I'll work the means
To make thee capable.

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 ?

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?

Glo. 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 present evening from my fifter Been well inform'd of them; and with such cautions, That if they come to sojourn at my house, I'll not be there.

Corn. Nor ), affure thee, Regan;
Edmund, I hear, that

you
have fhewn

your

father A child-like office.

Edm. 'Twas my duty, Sir.

Glo. He did bewray his practice, and receiv'd
This hurt you see, striving to apprehend him.

Corn. Is he pursued ?
G... Ay, my good lord.

Corn. If he be taken, he shall never more
Be fear'd of doing harm: make your own purpofe,
How in my strength you please. As for you, Edmund,
Whose virtue and obedience doth this inftant

So

1

So much commend itself, you shall be ours ;
Natures of such deep Trust we hall 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 threading dark-ey'd night; (14)
Occasions, noble Glo'fer, 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 belt thought it fit
To answer from our home: the sev'ral messengers
From hence attend dispatch. Our good old friend,
Lay comforts to your bosom ; and bestow
Your needful counsel to our businesses,
Which crave the instant use.

Glo. I serve you, Madam : Your Graces are right welcome.

[Exeunt. Enter Kent, and Steward, severally. Stew. Good evening to thee, friend; art of this house? Kent. Ay. Stew. Where may we set our horses ? Kent. I th' mire. Stew. Pr'ythee, if thou lov'it me, tell me. Kent. I love thee not. Stew. Why then I care not for thee.

Kent. If I had thee in Lipsbury pinfold, I would make thee care for me.

Stew. Why doft thou use me thus ? I know thee not. Kent. Fellow, I know thee. Stew. What doft thou know me for ? (14) -threading dark-ey'd nigbr.) I have not ventur'd to displace this reading, tho' I have great suspicion that the poet wrote,

treading dark-ey'd night. is e. travelling in it. The other carries too obscure, and mean an allufion. It must either be borrow'd from the cant-phrase of threading of alleys, i. e. going thro' bye- paffages to avoid the high streets; or to rbreading a needle in the dark.

Kent.

!

Kent. A knave, a rascal, an eater of broken meats, a base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three-suited, hundred-pound, filthy worsted-stocking knave; a lilly-liver'd, action-taking, knave; a whorson, glass-gazing, superserviceable finical rogue; one-trunk-inheriting flave; one that would'st be a bawd in way of good fervice; and art nothing but the composition of a knave, beggar, coward, pander, and the son 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?

Kint. What a brazen-fac'd varlet art thou, to deny thou know'st me? is it two days ago, since 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 sop o'th' moonshine of you; you whorson, culæ lionly, barber-monger, draw. [Drawing bis sword.

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! murder ! help!

Kent. Strike, you slave; stand, rogue, ftand, you neat slave, strike.

[Beating hime Stew. Help ho! murder! murder ! Enter Edmund, Cornwall, Regan, Glo'ster, and Servants:

Edm. How now, what's the matter? PartKent. With you, goodman boy, if you please; come, I'll flesh ye; come on, young master.

Glo. Weapons ? aris? 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 fiffer and the King ? Corn. What is your difference? speak.

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