be, though I should win your displeasure to en

treat me to it.

Corn. What was the offence you gave him?
Stew. Never any:

It pleas'd the King his master, very late,

To strike at me, upon his misconstruction;
When he, conjunct, and flattering his displeasure,
Tripp'd me behind; being down, insulted, rail'd,'
And put upon him such a deal of man,

'That worthy'd him, 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.

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

Corn. Fetch forth the stocks, ho!

You stubborn ancient knave, you reverend 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, show too bold malice
Against the grace and person of my master,
Stocking his messenger.

Corn. Fetch forth the stocks: As I've life and honour, there shall he sit till noon. Reg. Till noon! till night, my Lord; and all night too.

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

Reg. Sir, being his knave, I will.

[Stocks brought out. Corn. This is a fellow of the self-same colour Our sister 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

1

Will check him for't: your purpos'd low correction
Is such, as basest and contemned'st wretches,
For pilferings and most common trespasses,
Are punish'd with the King must take it ill,
That he's 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 goodLord; away. [Exeunt REG.and CORN. 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 stopp'd: I'll entreat for thee.

Kent. Pray, do not, Sir: I have watch'd and travell'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; 'twill be ill

taken.

[Exit. Kent. Good King, that must approve the com

mon saw!

Thou out of heaven's benediction com'st

To the warm sun!

Approach, thou beacon to this under globe,
That by thy comfortable beams I may

Peruse this letter! - Nothing almost sees miracles;
But misery: I know, 'tis from Cordelia;

Who hath most fortunately been inform'd

Of my obscured course; and shall find time
From this enormous state,

seeking to give

Losses 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

wheel! [He sleeps.

SCENE III.

A Part of the Heath.

Enter EDGAR.

Edg. I 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 any taking. While I may scape, I will preserve myself: and am bethought To take the basest 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; elf all my hair in knots; And with presented nakedness out-face The winds, and persecutions of the sky. The country gives me proof and precedent Of Bedlam beggars, who, with roaring voices, Strike in their numb'd and mortified bare arms Pins, wooden pricks, nails, sprigs of rosemary; And with this horrible object, from low farms, Poor pelting villages, sheep-cotes, and mills, Sometime with lunatick bans, sometime with prayers, Enforce their charity. Poor Turlygood! poor Tom! That's something yet; - Edgar I nothing am. [Exit.

SCENE IV.

Before Gloster's Castle.

Enter LEAR, Fool, and Gentleman.

Lear. 'Tis strange, that they should so depart from home,

And not send back my messenger.

Gent. As I learn'd,

The night before there was no purpose in them Of this remove.

Kent. Hail to thee, noble master!

Lear. How!

Mak'st thou this shame thy pastime?
Kent. No, my Lord.

Fool. Ha, ha; look! he wears cruel garters! Horses are tied by the heads; dogs, and bears, by the neck; monkies by the loins, and men by the legs: when a man is over-lusty at legs, then he wears wooden nether-stocks.

Lear. What's he, that hath 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.

Dear. No, no; they would not.

Kent. Yes, they have.

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 murder,

To do upon respect such violent outrage:

Resolve me, with all modest 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' letters to them,
Ere I was risen from the place that show'd
My duty kneeling, came there a reeking post,
Stew'd in his haste, half breathless, panting forth
From Goneril his mistress, salutations;
Delivered letters, spite of intermission,
Which presently they read: on whose contents,
They summon'd 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 that of late

Display'd so saucily against your Highness,)
Having more man than wit about me, drew;
He rais'd the house with loud and coward cries:
Your son and daughter found this trespass worth
The shame which here it suffers.

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 arrant whore,

Ne'er turns the key to the poor.

But, for all this, thou shalt have as many dolours for thy daughters, as thou can'st tell in a year.