Kent. A knave, a rascal, an eater of broken meats, a base, proud, fhallow, beggarly, three-fuited, hundred-pound, filthy worsted-stocking knave; a lilly-liver'd, action-taking knave; a whorfon, glafs-gazing, fuperferviceable finical rogue; one-trunk-inheriting flave; one that would'st be a bawd in way of good fervice; and art nothing but the compofition of a knave, beggar, coward, pander, and the fon and heir of a mungril bitch; one whom I will beat into clam'rous whining, if thou deny'st the least syllable of thy addition. Stew. Why, what a monftrous fellow art thou, thus to rail on one, that is neither known of thee, nor knows thee? Kent. What a brazen-fac'd varlet art thou, to deny thou know'ft me? is it two days ago, fince I tript up thy heels, and beat thee before the king? Draw, you rogue; for tho' it be night, yet the moon fhines; I'll make a fop o' th' moonshine of you; you whorfon, cullionly, barber-monger, draw. [Drawing his fword. Stew. Away, I have nothing to do with thee. Kent. Draw, you rafcal; you come with letters against the King; and take Vanity, the Puppet's part, against the royalty of her father; draw, you rogue, or I'll fo carbonado your thanks-draw, you rascal, come your ways. Stew. Help, ho! murder! help! Kent. Strike, you flave; ftand, rogue, ftand, you neat flave, ftrike. Stew. Help, ho! murder! murder! [Beating him. 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 mafter. 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? Stew Stewv. I am scarce in breath, my lord. ; Kent. No marvel, you have fo beftir'd your valour you cowardly rafcal! nature difclaims all fhare in thee: a taylor made thee. Corn. Thou art a strange fellow; a taylor make a man? Kent. I, a taylor, 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? Sterv. This ancient ruffian, Sir, whofe life I have fpar'd at fuit of his grey beard Kent. Thou whorfon zed! thou unneceffary letter! my lord, if you will give me leave, I will tread this unbolted 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. That fuch a flave as this should wear a fword, Who wears no honefty: fuch fmiling rogues as these, Like rats, oft bite the holy cords in twain (15) Too (15) Li'e rats, oft bite the holy cords atwaine, Which are t' intrince, t'unloefe;] Thus the firft editors blunder'd this paffage into unintelligible nonfenfe. Mr. Pope fo far has difengag'd them, as to give us plain fenfe; but by throwing out the epithet boly, 'tis evident he was not aware of the poet's fine meaning. I'll first eftablish 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 This word again occurs in our author's Antony and Cleopatra, where he is speaking to the afpick; Come, mortal wretch; With thy fharp teeth this knot intrinficate Of life at once untie. And we meet with it in Cynthia's Revels by Ben. Johnson.. Yet there are certain puntilio's, or (as I may more nakedly inf nuate them) certain intrinficate strokes and wards, to which your activity is not yet amounted; &c. It means, inward, hidden; perplext; as a knot, hard to be unravell'd; it is derived from the Latin adverb intrinficus; from which the Too 'intrinficate t' unloofe: footh every paffion, Corn. Why doft thou call him knave? what is his fault? 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 Corn. This is some fellow, Who having been prais'd for bluntnefs, doth affect the Italians have coin'd a very beautiful phrafe, intrinfiearfi col une, i. e. to grow intimate with, to wind one felf into another. And now to our author's fenfe. Kent is rating the fteward, as a parafite of Gonerill's; and fuppofes very justly, 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. (16) cackling bome to Camelot.] As Sarum, or Salisbury, plain is mention'd in the preceding verfe, I prefume this Camelot to be that mention'd by Holing fhead, and called Camaletum, in the marshes of Somerfetfhire, where there was an old tradition of a very strong Caf tle. Langham, in his account of Queen Elizabeth's reception at Kenil worth, fays, from King Arthur's acts, that that Prince kept his royal court at Camelot : but whether this be the place already mentioned, or fome other of that name in Wales, or the Camelot in Sterling-County in Scotland, I am not able to say. An An honeft mind and plain, he must speak truth; That ftretch 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 Phœbus' front Corn. What mean'st by this? Kent. To go out of my dialect, which you difcommend fo much: I know, Sir, I am no flatterer; he that beguil'd you in a plain accent, was a plain knave; which for my part I will not be, though I fhould win your difpleafure to intreat me to't. Corn. What was th' offence you gave him ? It pleas'd the King his mafter very lately Kent. None of these rogues and cowards, 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 stocks 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, Corn. Fetch forth the stocks; As I have life and honour, there fhall he fit till noon. Reg. Reg. 'Till noon! 'till night, my lord, and all night too Reg. Sir, being his knave, I will. [Stocks brought out- Corn. I'll answer that. Reg. My Sifter may receive it much more worse, For following her affairs. Put in his legs [Kent is put in the Stocks. Will not be rubb'd nor ftop'd. I'll intreat for thee. Some time I shall fleep out, the reft I'll whistle: A good man's fortune may grow out at heels; Give you good morrow. [hard; Glo. The Duke's to blame in this, 'twill be ill taken. [Exit. Kent. Good King, that must approve the common Saw, 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 Loffess |