the letter; if your diligence be not speedy, I fhall be there afore you. Kent. I will not fleep, my lord, 'till I have delivered your letter. [Exit. Fool. If a man's brain were in his heels, wer't not in danger of kibes ? Lear. Ay, boy. Fool. Then, I pr'ythee, be merry, thy wit fhall not go flip-fhod. Lear. Ha, ha, ha. Fool. Shalt fee, thy other daughter will ufe thee kindly; for though the's as like this as a crab's like an apple, yet I can tell what I can tell. Lear. What can't tell, boy? Fool. She will tafte as like this, as a crab does to a crab. Can't thou tell,why one's nofe ftands i' th' middle of one's face? Lear. No. Fool. Why, to keep one's eyes of either fide one's note; that what a man cannot fmell out, he may spy into. Lear. I did her wrong Fool. Can't tell how an oyfter makes his fhell? Fool. Nor I neither; but I can tell, why a fnail has a houfe. Lear. Why? Fool. Why, to put's head in, not to give it away to his daughters, and leave his horns without a cafe. Lear. I will forget my nature: so kind a father! be my horfes ready? Fool. Thy affes are gone about 'em; the reason, why the feven ftars are no more than seven, is a pretty reafon. Lear. Because they are not eight. Fool. Yes, indeed; thou wouldst make a good fool. Lear. To take't again perforce!-monfler ingratitude! Fool. If you were my fool, nuncle, I'd have thee beaten for being old before thy time. Lear. Lear. How's that? Fool. Thou fhould't not have been old, 'till thou hadft been wife. Lear. O, let me not be mad, not mad, fweet heav'n! Keep me in temper, I would not be mad. Enter Gentleman. How now, are the horses ready? Gent. Ready, my lord. Lear. Come, boy. [ture, Fool. She that's a maid now, and laughs at my depar Shall not be a maid long, unless things be cut fhorter. [Exeunt. SCENE, A Castle belonging to the Earl of Glo'fler. Enter Edmund and Curan, feverally. EDMUND. AVE thee, Curan. Cur. And you, Sir. I have been with your father, and given him notice that the Duke of Cornwall, and Regan his Dutchefs, 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 whifper'd ones; for they are yet but ear-kiffing 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 do then in time. Fare you well, Sir. [Exit. Edm. The Duke be here to-night! the better! beft! This weaves itfelf perforce into my business; B B 5 My My father hath fet guard to take my brother, My father watches; O Sir, fly this place, Edg. I'm fure on't, not a word. Edm. I hear my father coming. Pardon me. In cunning, I muft draw my fword upon youDraw, feem to defend yourself. Now quit you well Yield come before my father-light hoa, here! To him, Enter Glo'fter, and fervants with torches. Edm. Here ftood he in the dark, his fharp fword out, 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. Purfue him, ho! go after. By no means, whatEdm. Perfuade me to the murder of your lordship; But that, I told him, the revenging Gods 'Gainft Parricides did all the thunder bend, Spoke Spoke with how manifold and ftrong a bond To his unnat'ral purpose, in fell motion Glo. Let him fly far; Not in this land fhall he remain uncaught And found; difpatch-the noble Duke my mafter, That he, which finds him, fhall deferve our thanks, Edm. When I diffuaded him from his intent, Make thy words faith'd? no; what I fhould deny,- To thy fuggeftion, plot, and damned practice; [Trumpets within. Glo. O ftrange, faften'd, villain ! (13) My worthy arch and fatron ] I can meet with no authority of this word ufed 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 fuppofe a tranfpofition 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 Enter Cornwall, Regan, and Attendants. Corn. How now, my noble friend? fince I came hither, Which I can call but now, I have heard ftrange news, Reg. If it be true, all vengeance comes too short, Which can purfue 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 godfon feek 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 prefent evening from my fifter Been well inform'd of them; and with fuch cautions, That if they come to fojourn at my I'll not be there. Corn. Nor I, affure thee, Regan; house, Edmund, I hear, that you have fhewn your father Edm. 'Twas my duty, Sir. Glo. He did bewray his practice, and receiv'd This hurt you fee, ftriving to apprehend him. Corn. Is he pursued? Go. Ay, my good lord. Corn. If he be taken, he fhall never more Be fear'd of doing harm: make your own purpose, How in my frength you pleafe. As for you, Edmund, Whofe virtue and obedience doth this inftant |