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 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 good lord; 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. 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, Peruse this letter!-Nothing almost sees miracles, my obscured course; and shall find time From this enormous state,-seeking to give Losses their remedies: -All weary and o'erwatch'd, Take vantage, heavy eyes, not to behold This shameful lodging. Fortune, good night; smile once more; turn thy wheel! SCENE III. A PART OF THE HEATH. [He sleeps. 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, E That guard, and most unusual vigilance, Brought near to beast: my face I'll grime with filth; Blanket my loins; elf all my hair in knots; 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. Lear. How! Hail to thee, noble master! 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 Kent. I say, yea. Lear. 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, 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 perceiv'd, had poison'd mine, Display'd so saucily against your highness,) Fool. Winter's not gone yet, if the wild geese fly 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. Lear. O, how this mother swells up toward my heart! |