GLOUCESTER Strong and fastened villain!

Would he deny his letter? I never got him.

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

I will send far and near, that all the kingdom

May have note of him—and of my land,

Loyal and natural boy, I’ll work the means

To make thee capable.

Enter the Duke of Cornwall and Regan

CORNWALL

How now, my noble friend? Since I came hither,

Which I can call but now, I have heard strange news.

REGAN

If it be true, all vengeance comes too short

Which can pursue the offender. How dost, my lord?

GLOUCESTER

Madam, my old heart is cracked, is cracked.

REGAN

What, did my father’s godson seek your life?

He whom my father named, your Edgar?

GLOUCESTER

Ay, lady, lady; shame would have it hid.

REGAN

Was he not companion with the riotous knights

That tend upon my father?

GLOUCESTER

I know not, madam. ’Tis too bad, too bad.

EDMUND Yes, madam, he was.

REGAN

No marvel, then, though he were ill affected.

’Tis they have put him on the old man’s death,

To have the spoil and waste of his revenues.

I have this present evening from my sister

Been well informed of them, and with such cautions

That if they come to sojourn at my house

I’ll not be there.

CORNWALL Nor I, assure thee, Regan.

Edmund, I heard that you have shown your father

A childlike office.

EDMUND ’Twas my duty, sir.

GLOUCESTER (to Cornwall)

He did betray his practice, and received

This hurt you see striving to apprehend him.

CORNWALL

Is he pursued?

GLOUCESTER Ay, my good lord.

CORNWALL

If he be taken, he shall never more

Be feared of doing harm. Make your own purpose

How in my strength you please. For you, Edmund,

Whose virtue and obedience doth this instant

So much commend itself, you shall be ours.

Natures of such deep trust we shall much need.

You we first seize on.

EDMUND I shall serve you truly,

However else.

GLOUCESTER (to Cornwall) For him I thank your grace.

CORNWALL

You know not why we came to visit you—

REGAN

This out-of-season threat’ning dark-eyed night-

Occasions, noble Gloucester, of some poise,

Wherein we must have use of your advice.

Our father he hath writ, so hath our sister,

Of differences which I least thought it fit

To answer from our home. The several messengers

From hence attend dispatch. Our good old friend,

Lay comforts to your bosom, and bestow

Your needful counsel to our business,

Which craves the instant use.

GLOUCESTER I serve you, madam.

Your graces are right welcome.

Exeunt

Sc. 7 Enter the Earl of Kent, disguised, at one door, and Oswald the steward, at another door

OSWALD Good even to thee, friend. Art of the house?

KENT Ay.

OSWALD Where may we set our horses?

KENT I’th’ mire.

OSWALD Prithee, if thou love me, tell me.

KENT I love thee not.

OSWALD Why then, I care not for thee.

KENT If I had thee in Lipsbury pinfold I would make thee care for me.

OSWALD Why dost thou use me thus? I know thee not.

KENT Fellow, I know thee.

OSWALD 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 knave; a whoreson, glass-gazing, superfinical rogue; one-trunk-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, whom I will beat into clamorous whining if thou deny the least syllable of the addition.

OSWALD What a monstrous fellow art thou, thus to rail on one that’s neither known of thee nor knows thee!

KENT What a brazen-faced varlet art thou, to deny thou knowest me! Is it two days ago since I beat thee and tripped up thy heels before the King? Draw, you rogue; for though it be night, the moon shines.

⌈He draws his sword⌉

I’ll make a sop of the moonshine o’ you. Draw, you whoreson, cullionly barber-monger, draw!

OSWALD Away. I have nothing to do with thee.

KENT Draw, you rascal. You bring 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!

OSWALD Help, ho, murder, help!

KENT Strike, you slave! Stand, rogue! Stand, you neat slave, strike!

OSWALD Help, ho, murder, help!

Enter Edmund the bastard with his rapier drawn, ⌈then⌉ the Duke of Gloucester, ⌈then⌉ the Duke of Cornwall and Regan the Duchess

EDMUND ⌈parting them⌉ How now, what’s the matter?

KENT With you, goodman boy. An you please come, I’ll flesh you. Come on, young master.

GLOUCESTER Weapons? Arms? What’s the matter here?

CORNWALL Keep peace, upon your lives. He dies that strikes again. What’s the matter?

REGAN The messengers from our sister and the King.

CORNWALL (to Kent and Oswald) What’s your difference? Speak.

OSWALD I am scarce in breath, my lord.

KENT No marvel, you have so bestirred your valour, you cowardly rascal. Nature disclaims in thee; a tailor made thee.

CORNWALL 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 he had been but two hours at the trade.

GLOUCESTER Speak yet; how grew your quarrel?

OSWALD This ancient ruffian, sir, whose life I have spared at suit of his grey beard—

KENT Thou whoreson Z, thou unnecessary letter—(to Cornwall) my lord, if you’ll give me leave I will tread this unboulted villain into mortar and daub the walls of a jakes with him. (To Oswald) Spare my grey beard, you wagtail?

CORNWALL

Peace, sir. You beastly knave, have you no reverence?

KENT

Yes, sir, but anger has a privilege.

CORNWALL Why art thou angry?

KENT

That such a slave as this should wear a sword,

That wears no honesty. Such smiling rogues

As these, like rats, oft bite those cords in twain

Which are too entrenched to unloose, smooth every