ACT II. SCENE I-A Court within the Castle of the EARL OF GLOSTER. Enter EDMUND and CURAN, meeting. Edm. Save thee, Curan. Cur. And you, sir. I have been with your father, and given him notice that the Duke of Cornwall and Regan his duchess will be here with him this night. Edm. How comes that? Cur. Nay, I know not.-You have heard of the news abroad; I mean, the whispered ones, for they are yet but ear-kissing arguments? Edm. Not I: pray you, what are they? Cur. Have you heard of no likely wars toward, 'twixt the Dukes of Cornwall and Albany? Edm. Not a word. Cur. You may, then, in time. Fare you well, sir. [Exit. Edm. The duke be here to-night? The better! best! This weaves itself perforce into my business. My father hath set guard to take my brother; Which I must act:-briefness and fortune, work!- Enter EDGAR. My father watches:-O sir, fly this place; You have now the good advantage of the night.- Edy. I am sure on't, not a word. Some blood drawn on me would beget opinion [Exit EDGAR. [Wounds his arm. Of my more fierce endeavour: I have seen drunkards Enter GLOSTER, and Servants with torches. Glo. Now, Edmund, where 's the villain? Edm. Here stood he in the dark, his sharp sword out, Mumbling of wicked charms, conjuring the moon To stand auspicious mistress,— Glo. Edm. Look, sir, I bleed. Glo. Edm. Fled this way, sir. But where is he? Where is the villain, Edmund? Glo. Pursue him, ho!-Go after. [Exeunt Servants.]- Edm. Persuade me to the murder of your lordship; 'Gainst parricides did all their thunders bend; To his unnatural purpose, in feil motion, Bold in the quarrel's right, rous'd to the encounter, Full suddenly he fled. Glo. Let him fly far: Not in this land shall he remain uncaught; And found, despatch'd.-The noble duke my master, My worthy arch and patron, comes to-night: By his authority I will proclaim it, That he which finds him shall deserve our thanks, Edm. When I dissuaded him from his intent, Thou unpossessing bastard! dost thou think, Of any trust, virtue, or worth, in thee Make thy words faith'd? No: what I should deny,- To thy suggestion, plot, and damned practice: And thou must make a dullard of the world, Glo. [Trumpets within. 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 picture 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 the offender. How dost, 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. It is too bad, too bad. I know not, madam: Edm. Yes, madam, he was of that consort. Reg. No marvel, then, though he were ill affected: 'Tis they have put him on the old man's death, To have the expense and waste of his revenues. I have this present evening from my sister Been well inform'd of them; and with such cautions, I'll not be there. Corn. Nor I, assure thee, Regan.Edmund, I hear that you have shown 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 pursu'd? Glo. Ay, my good lord. Corn. If he be taken he shall never more Be fear'd of doing harm: make your own purpose, How in my strength you please. For you, Edmund, Edm. Truly, however else. I shall serve you, sir, For him I thank your grace. Corn. You know not why we came to visit you,- To answer from our home; the several messengers Your needful counsel to our businesses, Glo. I serve you, madam: [Exeunt. Your graces are right welcome. SCENE II.-Before GLOSTER's Castle. Enter KENT and OSWALD severally. Osw. Good dawning to thee, friend: art of this house? Kent. Ay. Osw. Where may we set our horses? Kent. I' the mire. Osw. Pr'ythee, if thou lovest me, tell me. Kent. I love thee not. Osw. Why, then, I care not for thee. Kent. If I had thee in Lipsbury pinfold I would make thee care for me. Osw. Why dost thou use me thus? I know thee not. Osw. What dost thou know me for? Kent. A knave, a rascal, an eater of broken meats; a base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three-suited, hundred-pound, filthy, worsted-stocking knave; a lily-livered, action-taking whoreson, glass-gazing, superserviceable, finical rogue; onetrunk-inheriting slave; one that wouldst be a bawd, in way of good service, and art nothing but the composition of a knave, beggar, coward, pander, and the son and heir of a mongrel bitch: one whom I will beat into clamorous whining, if thou denyest the least syllable of thy addition. Osw. Why, what a monstrous fellow art thou, thus to rail on one that is neither known of thee nor knows thee? Kent. What a brazen-faced varlet art thou, to deny thou knowest me! Is it two days since I tripped up thy heels and beat thee before the king? Draw, you rogue: for, though it be night, yet the moon shines; I'll make a sop o' the moonshine of you: draw, you whoreson cullionly barber-monger, draw. [Drawing his sword. Osw. 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 so carbonado your shanks:-draw, you rascal; come your ways. Osw. Help, ho! murder! help. Kent. Strike, you slave; stand, rogue, stand; you neat slave, strike. [Beating him. Osw. Help, ho! murder! murder! Enter EDMUND, Cornwall, Regan, Gloster, and Servants. Edm. How now! What's the matter? Kent. With you, goodman boy, if you please: come, I'll flesh you; come on, young master. Glo. Weapons! arms! What's the matter here? He dies that strikes again. What is the matter? Osw. I am scarce in breath, my lord. Kent. No marvel, you have so bestirr'd your valour. You cowardly rascal, nature disclaims in thee: a tailor made thee. Corn. Thou art a strange fellow: a tailor make a man? Kent. Ay, a tailor, sir: a stone-cutter or a painter could not have made him so ill, though they had been but two hours at the trade. Corn. Speak yet, how grew your quarrel? Osw. This ancient ruffian, sir, whose life I have spared at suit of his gray beard,— Kent. Thou whoreson zed! thou unnecessary letter!-My lord, if you will give me leave, I will tread this unbolted villain into mortar, and daub the wall of a jakes with him. -Spare my gray beard, you wagtail? Corn. Peace, sirrah! You beastly knave, know you no reverence? Kent. Yes, sir; but anger hath a privilege. |