Kent. Strike, you slave; ftand, rogue, ftand, you neat [Beating him. flave, ftrike.

Stew. Help ho! murder! murder!

Enter Edmund, Cornwall, Regan, Glo'fter, 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 ftrikes again; what's the matter?

Reg. The meffengers from our fifter and the King?
Corn. What is your difference? speak.

Stew. I am fcarce in breath, my Lord.

Kent. No marvel, you have fo beftirr'd your valour; you cowardly rascal! nature disclaims all share in thee: a tailor made thee.

Corn. Thou art a ftrange fellow; a tailor make a man? Kent. Ay, a tailor, Sir; a ftone-cutter, or a painter could not have made him fo ill, tho' they had been but two hours o'th' trade.

Corn. Speak yet, how grew your quarrel?

Stew.This ancient ruffian, Sir, whofe life I have spar'd beardat fuit of his grey

Kent. Thou whorefon zed! thou unneceffary letter! will give me leave, I will tread this unmy Lord, if you bolted villain into mortar, and daub the wall of a jakes with him. Spare my grey beard? you wagtail!

Corn. Peace, Sirrah!

You beaftly knave, know you no reverence?
Kent. Yes, Sir, but anger hath a privilege.

Corn. Why art thou angry

?

Kent. That fuch a flave as this fhou'd wear a fword, Who wears no honesty: fuch fmiling rogues as these, Like rats, oft bite the holy cords in twain (8)

Too

(8) Like rats, oft bite the holy Cords atwaine, Which are t'intrince, t'unloofe;] Thus the firft Editors blundered this Paffage into unintelligible Nonfenfe. Mr. Pope fo far has difengaged them, as to give us plain Senfe; but by throwing out the

Epithet

;

Too 'intrinficate t'unloofe: footh every paffion,
That in the nature of their Lords rebels:
Bring oil to fire, fnow to their colder moods
Renege, affirm, and turn their halcyon beaks
With ev'ry gale and vary of their mafters ;
As knowing nought, like dogs, but following.
A plague upon your epileptick visage!
Smile you my fpeeches, as I were a fool?
Goofe, if I had you upon Sarum-plain,
I'd drive ye cackling home to Camelot.
Corn. What art thou mad, old fellow!
Glo. How fell you out? fay that.

Kent. No contraries hold more antipathy,
Than I and fuch a knave.

1

Corn. Why doft thou call him knave? what is his fault? Kent. His countenance likes me not.

Corn. No more perchance, does mine, nor his, nor hers Kent. Sir, 'tis my occupation to be plain;

I have feen better faces in my time,

Than ftand on any fhoulder that I fee
Before me at this inftant.

Corn. This is fome fellow,

Who having been prais'd for bluntnefs, doth affect
A fawcy roughnefs; and conftrains the garb,
Quite from his nature. He can't flatter, he,-
An honeft mind and plain, he must speak truth;

Epithet boly, 'tis evident, he was not aware of the Poet's fine Meaning. I'll first establish and prove the Reading; then explain the Allufion. Thus the Poet gave it;

Like rats, oft bite the holy Cords in twain,
Too 'intrinficate t'unloofe—

It means, inward, hidden; perplext; as a Knot, hard to be unravelled; it is derived from the Latin adverb intrinfecus from which the Italians have coined a very beautiful Phrafe, intrinficarfi col uno, i. e. to grow intimate with, to wind one felf into another. And now to eur Author's Senfe. Kent is rating the Steward, as a Parafite of Gonerill's; and fuppofes very juftly, that he has fomented the Quarrel betwixt that Princefs and her Father: in which Office he compares him to a facrilegious Rat: and by a fine Metaphor, as Mr. Warburton obferved to me, ftiles the Union between Parents and Children the boly Cords

An

An they will take it, fo; if not, he's plain.

These kind of knaves I know, which in this plainnefs
Harbour more craft, and more corrupter ends,
Than twenty filly ducking obfervants,

That flretch their duties nicely.

Kent. Sir, in good faith, in fincere verity,
Under th' allowance of your grand afpect,

Whofe influence, like the wreath of radiant fire
On flickering Phabus' front-

Corn. What mean'ft by this?

Kent. To go out of my dialect, which you

difcommend fo 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 fhould win your displeasure to intreat me to't.

Corn. What was th' offence you gave him?
Stew. I never gave him any:

It pleas'd the King his mafter very lately
To ftrike at me upon his mifconftruction:
When he conjunct, and flatt'ring his difpleafure,
Tript me behind; being down, infulted, rail'd,
And put upon him fuch a deal of man, that
That worthied him, got praifes of the King,
For him attempting who was felf-fubdu'd;
And, in the fleshment of this dread exploit,
Drew on me here again.

Kent. None of thefe rogues and cowards,
But Ajax is their fool.

Corn. Fetch forth the ftocks.

You ftubborn ancient knave, you rev'rend braggart,

We'll teach you

Kent. Sir, I am too old to learn:

Call not your flocks for me, I ferve the King;

On whofe employment I was fent to you.

You fhall do fmall refpect, fhew too bold malice
Against the grace and perfon of my mafter,
Stocking his meffenger.

Corn. Fetch forth the flocks;

As I have life and honour, there fhall he fit till noon. Reg.'Till noon! till night, my Lord, and all night too,

Kent

Kent. Why, Madam, if I were your father's dog, You could not use me fo.

Reg. Sir, being his knave, I will. [Stocks brought out.
Corn. This is a fellow of the felf-fame nature

Our fifter fpeaks of. Come, bring away the ftocks.
Glo. Let me befeech your Grace not to do fo;
His fault is much, and the good King his mafter
Will check him fort; your purpos'd low correction
Is fuch, as bafeft and the meanest wretches
For pilf'rings, and moft common trefpaffes,
Are punish'd with. The King must take it ill,
That he, fo flightly valued in his meffenger,
Should have him thus reftrain'd.

Corn. I'll answer that.

Reg. My fifter may receive it much more worse,
To have her Gentleman abus'd, affaulted,
For following her affairs. Put in his legs.

[Kent is put in the flocks.
Come, my Lord, away. [Exeunt Regan and Cornwall.
Glo. I'm forry for thee, friend; 'tis the Duke's pleasure,
Whofe difpofition, all the world well knows,
Will not be rubb'd nor ftop'd. I'll intreat for thee.
Kent.Pray, do not, Sir. I've watch'd and travell'd hard;
Some time I shall fleep out, the rest I'll whistle:
A good man's fortune may grow out at heels;
Give you good-morrow.

Glo. The Duke's to blame in this, 'twill be ill taken.

[Exit.

Kent. Good King, that must approve the common faw, Thou out of heaven's benediction com'ft

To the warm fun!

Approach, thou beacon to this under-globe,

[Looking up to the moon. That by thy comfortable beams I may

Perufe this letter. Nothing almoft fees miracles,
But mifery. I know, 'tis from Cordelia;
Who hath moft fortunately been inform'd
Of my obfcured courfe. I fhall find time
From this enormous ftate, and feek to give

Loffes their remedies. All weary and o'er watch'd,

Take

Take 'vantage, heavy eyes, not to behold

This fhameful lodging.

Fortune, good night; fmile once more, turn thy wheel.

[He fleeps.

SCENE changes to a part of a Heath.

Enter Edgar.

Edg. T'VE heard myfelf proclaim'd;

I'VE

And, by the happy hollow of a tree,
Efcap'd the hunt. No port is free, no place,
That Guard and moft unusual vigilance

Does not attend my taking. Whiles I may 'fcape,
I will preserve myfelf: and am bethought
To take the bafeft and the pooreft shape,
That ever Penury in contempt of man

Brought near to beaft: my face I'll grime with filth;
Blanket my loins; elfe all my hair in knots;
And with prefented nakednefs out-face
The winds and perfecutions of the fky.
The country gives me proof and precedent
Of bedlam beggars, who, with roaring voices,
Strike in their numb'd and mortify'd bare arms
Pins, wooden pricks, nails, fprigs of rofemary;
And with this horrible object, from low farms,
Poor pelting villages, theep-coats and mills,
Sometimes with lunatick bans, fometimes with pray❜rs,
Inforce their charity; poor Turlygood! poor Tom!
That's fomething yet: Edgar I nothing am.

[Exit.

SCENE changes again, to the Earl of
Glofter's Cafile.

Enter Lear, Fool and Gentleman.

IS ftrange, that they should fo depart from home,
And not fend back my meffenger.

Gent. As I learn'd,

The