Imatges de pÓgina

Stew. I am scarce in breath, my lord.
Kent. No marvel, you have fo beftir'd your

valour"; you cowardly rascal! nature disclaims all share in thee: a taylor made thee.

Corn. Thou art a strange fellow; a taylor make a man

Kent. I, a taylor, Sir; a stone-cutter, or a painter could not have made him so ill, tho' they had been but two hours o'th' trade.

Corn. Speak yet, how grew your quarrel?

Stew. This ancient 'ruffian, Sir, whose life I have fpar'd at suit of his grey beard

Kent. Thou whorson zed ! thou unnecessary letter! my lord, if yon 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!

Corn. Peace, Sirrah!
You beastly knave, know you no reverence ?

Kent. Yes, Sir, but anger hath a privilege.
Corn. Why art thou angry?

Kent. That such a flave as this shou'd wear a sword, Who wears no honesty: such smiling rogues as these, Like rats, oft bite the holy cords in twain (15)


(15) Like rats, oft bite the holy cords atwaine, Which are t intrince, t' unlooses ] Thus the first editors blunder'd this passage into unintelligible nonsense. Mr. Pope so far has disengag’d them, as to give us plain sense; but by throwing out the epithet boly, 'tis evident, he was not aware of the poet's fine meaning. r'll fit establish and prove the reading; then explain the allusion. Thus the poet gave it;

Like rats, oft bite the holy cords in twain,

Top ’intrinlicate t' unloose This word again occurs in our auther’s Antony and Cleopatra, where. lhe is speaking to the aspick;

Come, mortal wretch;
With thy sharp teeth this knot intrinsicate

Of life at once uitie.
And we meet with it in Cynthia's Revels by Ben. Jenson.

Yet there are certain purtilio's, or (as 1 may more nakedly infia, i
nuate them) certain intrinsicate strokes and wards, to which your ac-
tivity is not yet amounted; &c.
It means, inward, hidden; perplext; as a knot, hard to be unra.
vell d; it is deriv'd from the Latin adverb intrinfecus; from which


Too 'intrinsicate t' unloose: footh every paffion,
That in the nature of their lords rebels :
Bring oil to fire, snow to their colder moods ;
Renege, 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
Goose, if I had you upon Sarum-plain,
I'd drive ye cackling home to Camelot. (16)

Corn. What art thou mad, old fellow?
Glo. How fell you out? say that.

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

Corn. Why doft thou call him knave? what is his fault?
Kent. His countenance likes me not.
Corn. No more, perchance, does inine, nor his, nor hers.

Kent. Sir, 'tis my occupation to be plain;
I have seen better faces in my time,
Than stand on any shoulder that I see
Before me at this inftant.

Corn. This is some fellow, Who having been prais'd for bluntness, doth affect A faucy roughness; and constrains the garb, Quite from his nature. He can't flatter, he,the Italians have coin'd a very beautiful phrase, intrinsicarsi col uno, i, e, to grow intimate with, to wind one self into another. And now to our author's sense. Kent is rating the steward, as a parasite of Gonerill's; and supposes very justly, that he has fomented the quarrel betwixt that princess and her father: in which office, he compares him to a sacrilegious rat: and by a fine metaphor, as Mr. Warburton observed to me, ftiles the union between parents and children the boly cords.

(16) -cackling bome to Camelot.) As Sarum, or Salisbury, plain is mention'd in the preceding verse, I presume this Camelot to be that mention'd by Holingshead, and callia Cemaletum, in the marshes of Somersetshire, where there was an old tradition of a very strong Caftle. Langbam in his account of queen Elizabeth's reception at Kenil. worth, says, from king Artbur's acts, that that Prince kept his royal court at Camelot: but whether this be the place already mention'd, or fome other of that name in Wales, or the Camelet in Sterling-County ia Scoriand, I am not able to say.


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 corrupter ends,
Than twenty filly ducking observants,
That stretch their duties nicely.

Kent. Sir, in good faith, in sincere verity,
Under th' allowance of your grand aspect,
Whose in fluence, like the wreath of radiant fire
On fickering Phæbus' front

Corn. What mean'st by this?

Kent. To go out of my dialect, which you discommend fo much: I know, Sir, I am no Aatterer; he, that beguild you in a plain accent, was a plain knave; which for my part I will not be, though I Mould win your displeasure to intreat me to’t.

Corr. What was th' offence you gave him ?
Stew. I never gave


any :
It pleas'd the King his mafter very lately
To strike at me upon his misconstruction ;
When he conjunct, and flatt'ring his displeasure,
Tript me behind; being down, insulted, rail'd,
And put upon him such a deal of man, that

That worthied him; got praises of the King,
For him attempting who was felf-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.

Corn. Fetch forth the Stocks,
You ftubborn 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 whose employment I was sent to you.
You shall do small respect, 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. 'Till noon!’till night, my lord, and all night to

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

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

Corn. This is fellow of the self-fame nature
Our fifter speaks of. Come, bring away the Stocks,

Glo. Let me beseech your Grace not to do so;
His fault is much, and the good King his master
Will check him for't; your purpos'd low correction
Is fuch, as basest and the meanest wretches
For pilf'rings, and most common trespasses,
Are punilh'd with. The King must take it ill,
That he, so slightly valued in his messenger,
Should have him thus restrain'd.

Corn. I'll answer that.
Reg. My Sister may receive it much more worse,
To have her Gentleman abus'd, assaulted,
For following her affairs. Put in his legs

[Kent is put in the Stocks. Come, my lord, away. [Exeunt Regan and Cornwall.

Glo. I'm sorry for thee, friend; 'tis the Duke's pleasure,
Whofe difpofition, all the world well knows,
Will not be rubb'd nor stop'd. I'll in treat for thee.

Kent. Pray, do not, Sir. I've watch'd and travell'a
Some time I shall sleep out, the rest I'll whistle : [hard;
A good man's fortune may grow out at heels;
Give you good morrow.
Glo. The Duke's to blame in this, 'twill be ill taken.

Kent. Good King, that must approve thecommon Saw,
Thou out of heaven's benediction com'ft
To the warm fun!
Approach, thou beacon to this under-globe,

[Looking up to the moon.
That by thy comfortable beams I may
Peruse this Better. Nothing almost sees miracles,
But misery. I know, 'tis from Cordelia ;
Who hath most fortunately been inform’d
Of my obscured course. " I shall find time
From this enormous state and seek to give


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x Cinjecta menbron of Crostins letter, which Kaut attempti bread by the moonligit, de King LE AR

43 Loffes their remedies," All weary and o'er-watch'd, Take vantage, heavy eyes, not to behold This shameful lodging. Fortune, good night; smile once more, turn thy wheels

[He feeps, SCENE changes to a part of a Heath,

Enter Edgar.
've heard myself proclaim'd ;

And, by the happy hollow of a tree,
Escap'd the hunt. No port is free, no place,
That Guard and most unusual vigilance
Does not attend my taking. Whiles I may 'scape,
I will preserve myself: and am bethought
To take the baselt and the pooreft Thape,
That ever penury in contempt of man
Brought near to beast: my face I'll grime with filth;
Blanket my loins; elfe all my hair in knots; (17)
And with presented nakedness out-face
The winds, and persecutions of the ky.
The country gives me proof and president
Of bedlam beggars, who, with roaring voices,
Strike in their numb’d and mortify'd bare arms -
Pins, wooden pricks, nails, sprigs of rosemary ;
And with this horrible object, from low farms,


-put all my hair in knors;] This is a modern seading: All the old copies intended to read, and the first folio actu. ally does;

-elfe all my bair in knots.
i. e. twist it in the manner of elfe-lecks: i. e. bairs to intricately inter-
wove, as not to be disengag'd ; and by fuperftition suppos'd to have
been twiled by Elves, or Fairies. We find them mention'd in our
author's Romeo and Juliet;

That plats the manes of horses in the night,
And cakes the elf-locks in foul Nuttish hairs,

Which once untangled, much misfortune bodes.
And in the induction to Ben. Fonfon's Magnerick Lady.

-But if you light on the wrong end, you will pull all into a knot or elf-lock; which nothing but the theers, or a candle, will undo or separate.


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