These kind of knaves I know, which in this plainness
Harbour more craft and more corrupter ends

Than twenty silly ducking observants

That stretch their duties nicely.

Kent. Sir, in good sooth, in sincere verity, Under the allowance of your great aspect, Whose influence, like the wreath of radiant fire On flickering Phoebus' front,

Corn.

What mean'st by this?

100

Kent. To go out of my dialect, which you discommend so much. I know, sir, I am no flatterer: he that beguiled you in a plain accent was a plain knave; which for my part I will not be, though I should win your displeasure to entreat me to 't.

Corn. What was the offence you gave him?

Osw. I never gave him any:

It pleased 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 worthied him, got praises of the king
For him attempting who was self-subdued;
And, in the fleshment of this dread exploit,
Drew on me here again.

Kent.

But Ajax is their fool.

Corn.

ΙΙΟ

None of these rogues and cowards

Fetch forth the stocks!

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.

121

Corn. Fetch forth the stocks! As I have life and

honour,

There shall he sit till noon.

130

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.

Corn. This is a fellow of the self-same colour Our sister speaks of. Come, bring away the stocks!

[Stocks brought out.

Glou. 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 purposed 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 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 abused, assaulted,

For following her affairs. Put in his legs.

Come, my good lord, away.

140

[Kent is put in the stocks.

[Exeunt all but Gloucester and Kent. Glou. 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. 150

Kent. Pray, do not, sir: I have watched 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!

Glou. The duke's to blame in this; 'twill be ill taken.

[Exit.

To the warm sun!

Kent. Good king, that must approve the common saw, Thou out of heaven's benediction comest

Approach, thou beacon to this under globe,

That by thy comfortable beams I may

160

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!

[Sleeps.

SCENE III. A wood.

Enter EDGAR.

Edg. I heard myself proclaim'd;

And by the happy hollow of a tree

Escaped 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 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 lunatic bans, sometime with prayers,

ΙΟ

Enforce their charity. Poor Turlygod! poor Tom!
That's something yet: Edgar I nothing am.

20

[Exit.

SCENE IV. Before Gloucester's castle. Kent in the stocks. 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.

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

ΙΟ

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

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 mightst 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;
Deliver❜d 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 perceived 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 raised the house with loud and coward cries.
Your son and daughter found this trespass worth
The shame which here it suffers.

30

40

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.

50

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

Lear. O, 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.