My father hath set guard to take my brother,
And I have one thing of a queazy question
Which I must act: briefness, and fortune work!
Brother, a word; defcend; Brother, I fay;-

To him, Enter Edgar.

My father watches; O Sir, fly 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' haste,
And Regan with him; have you nothing faid
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 torches.
Glo. Now, Edmund, where's the villain ?

Edm. Here stood he in the dark, his sharp sword out,
Mumbling of wicked charms, conj'ring the moon
To stand 's auspicious 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, what-
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 oppofite 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 best alarmed spirits,
Bold in the quarrel's right, rous'd to th' encounter,
Or whether gafted by the noise I made,

Full fuddenly he fled.

Glo. Let him fly far;

Not in this land shall 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 deferve our thanks,. Bringing the murd'rous coward to the stake:

He that conceals him, death.

Edm. When I dissuaded him from his intent,
And found him pight to do it, with curst speech
I threaten'd to discover him; he replied,
Thou unpossessing Bastard! do'st 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'st 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 within

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

:

(13) My worthy arch and patron.] I can meet with no authority of this word used in this manner, to fignify, 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 read, arch-patron, as arch-duke, arch-angel, arch-bishop, &c.

Hark,

(

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
I will fend 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 I, afssure 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 received
This hurt you fee, striving to apprehend him.
Corn. Is he pursued ?

Go. 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 ftrength you please. As for you, Edmund,
Whose virtue and obedience doth this instant

So

1

So much commend itself, you shall be ours;
Natures of such deep Truft we shall much need:
You we first seize on.

Edm. 1 shall serve you, Sir,

Truly, however else.

Glo. I thank your Grace.

Corn. You know not why we came to vifit you-
Reg. Thus out of season threading dark-ey'd night; (14)

Occasions, noble Glo'ster, of some prize,
Wherein we must have use of your advice.
Our father he hath writ, so hath our fifter,
Of diff'rences, which I best 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, feverally.

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'st 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 dost thou use me thus? I know thee not. Kent. Fellow, I know thee.

Stew. What dost thou know me for?

(14)-threading dark-ey'd night.) I have not ventur'd to difplace this reading, tho' I have great fufpicion that the poet wrote,

Kent. A knave, a rascal, an eater of broken meats, a base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three-fuited, 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 fon and heir of a mungril bitch; one whom I will beat into clam'rous whining, if thou deny'st the least syllable 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?

Kont. 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, cullionly, barber-monger, draw. [Drawing his fword. 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, stand, you neat flave, strike. [Beating him.

Stew. Help ho! murder! murder !

Enter Edmund, Cornwall, Regan, Glo'ster, and Servants.
Edm. How now, what's the matter? Part-
Kent. With you, goodman boy, if you please; come,
I'll flesh ye; come on, young master.

Glo. Weapons? arms? 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.

Stew