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 deparShall not be a maid long, unless things be cut fhorter. [Exeunt. A C T II. SCENE, A Castle belonging to the Earl of Glofter. S Enter Edmund and Curan, feverally. ED MUN D. 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! best! This weaves itself perforce into my business; My father hath fet guard to take my brother, My father watches; O Sir, fly this place, You've now the good advantage of the night- Edg. I'm fure on't, not a word. Edm. I hear my father coming. Pardon me Now quit you well Yield come before my father-light hoa, here!- [Ex. Edga Some blood, drawn on me, would beget opinion Of my more fierce endeavour. [Wounds his arm.... I've feen drunkards. Do more than this in fport. Father! father! 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? 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, what?Edm. 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 strong 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; dispatch-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 should deny,- To thy fuggeftion, plot, and damned practice ;; [Trumpets within. Glo. O ftrange, faften'd villain ! (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 ventured to fuppofe a tranfpofition of the copulat've, and that we ought to read, arch-patron, as arch-duke, arch-angel, arch-bishop, &c. B 6. 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 fhort, Which can purfue th' offender; how does my lord ? Glo. O Madam, my old heart is crack'd, its 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. Reg. No marvel then, though he were ill affected; Been well inform'd of them; and with fuch cautions, I'll not be there. Corn. Nor I, affure thee, Regan; 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 purfued? Glo. Ay, my good ford. Carn. If he be taken, he fhall never more Be fear'd of doing harm: make your own purpose, How in my ftrength you pleafe. As for you, Edmund, Whofe virtue and obedience doth this inftant Se So much commend itself, you shall be ours; You we firft seize on. Edm. I fhall ferve you, Sir,' Truly, however elfe. Glo. I thank your Grace. Corn. You know not why we came to vifit you Reg. Thus out of feafon threading dark-ey'd night; (14) Occafions, noble Glo'fler, of fome prize, Wherein we must have use of your advice.- Your needful counfel to our bufineffes, Which crave the inftant ufe. Glo. I ferve you, Madam : Your Graces are right welcome. Enter Kent, and Steward, feverally. [Exeunt. Stew. Good evening to thee, friend; art of this houfe? Kent. Ay. Stew. Where may we fet our horses? Kent. I' th' mire. Stew. Pr'ythee, if thou lov'ft 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 doft thou ufe me thus? I know thee not. Kent. Fellow, I know thee. Stew. What doft thou know me for? (14) threading dark-ey'd night.] I have not ventured to difplace this reading, tho' I have great fufpicion that the poet wrote, treading dark-ey'd night. i. e. travelling in it. The other carries too obfcure, and mean an allufion. It must either be borrow'd from the cant-phrafe of threading of alleys, i. e. going through bye-paffages to avoid the high streets; or to threading a needle in the dark. Kent |