King Lear, William Shakespeare [good book recommendations TXT] 📗

and potential spurs
To make thee seek it.” Gloucester

Strong and fasten’d villain
Would he deny his letter? I never got him. Tucket within.
Hark, the duke’s trumpets! I know not why he comes.
All ports I’ll bar; the villain shall not ’scape;
The duke must grant me that: besides, his picture
I will send far and near, that all the kingdom
May have the due note of him; and of my land,
Loyal and natural boy, I’ll work the means
To make thee capable.

Enter Cornwall, Regan, and Attendants. Cornwall

How now, my noble friend! since I came hither,
Which I can call but now, I have heard strange news.

Regan

If it be true, all vengeance comes too short
Which can pursue the offender. How dost, my lord?

Gloucester

O, madam, my old heart is crack’d, it’s crack’d!

Regan

What, did my father’s godson seek your life?
He whom my father named? your Edgar?

Gloucester

O, lady, lady, shame would have it hid!

Regan

Was he not companion with the riotous knights
That tend upon my father?

Gloucester

I know not, madam: ’tis too bad, too bad.

Edmund

Yes, madam, he was of that consort.

Regan

No marvel, then, though he were ill affected:
’Tis they have put him on the old man’s death,
To have the expense and waste of his revenues.
I have this present evening from my sister
Been well inform’d of them; and with such cautions,
That if they come to sojourn at my house,
I’ll not be there.

Cornwall

Nor I, assure thee, Regan.
Edmund, I hear that you have shown your father
A child-like office.

Edmund

’Twas my duty, sir.

Gloucester

He did bewray his practise; and received
This hurt you see, striving to apprehend him.

Cornwall

Is he pursued?

Gloucester

Ay, my good lord.

Cornwall

If he be taken, he shall never more
Be fear’d of doing harm: make your own purpose,
How in my strength you please. For you, Edmund,
Whose virtue and obedience doth this instant
So much commend itself, you shall be ours:
Natures of such deep trust we shall much need;
You we first seize on.

Edmund

I shall serve you, sir,
Truly, however else.

Gloucester

For him I thank your grace.

Cornwall

You know not why we came to visit you⁠—

Regan

Thus out of season, threading dark-eyed night:
Occasions, noble Gloucester, of some poise,
Wherein we must have use of your advice:
Our father he hath writ, so hath our sister,
Of differences, which I least thought it fit
To answer from our home; the several messengers
From hence attend dispatch. Our good old friend,
Lay comforts to your bosom; and bestow
Your needful counsel to our business,
Which craves the instant use.

Gloucester

I serve you, madam:
Your graces are right welcome. Exeunt.

Scene II

Before Gloucester’s castle

Enter Kent and Oswald, severally. Oswald Good dawning to thee, friend: art of this house? Kent Ay. Oswald Where may we set our horses? Kent I’ the mire. Oswald Prithee, if thou lovest me, tell me. Kent I love thee not. Oswald Why, then, I care not for thee. Kent If I had thee in Lipsbury pinfold, I would make thee care for me. Oswald Why dost thou use me thus? I know thee not. Kent Fellow, I know thee. Oswald What dost thou know me for? Kent A knave; a rascal; an eater of broken meats; a base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three-suited, hundred-pound, filthy, worsted-stocking knave; a lily-livered, action-taking knave, a whoreson, glass-gazing, super-serviceable finical rogue; one-trunk-inheriting slave; one that wouldst be a bawd, in way of good service, and art nothing but the composition of a knave, beggar, coward, pandar, and the son and heir of a mongrel bitch: one whom I will beat into clamorous whining, if thou deniest the least syllable of thy addition. Oswald Why, what a monstrous fellow art thou, thus to rail on one that is neither known of thee nor knows thee! Kent What a brazen-faced varlet art thou, to deny thou knowest me! Is it two days ago since I tripped up thy heels, and beat thee before the king? Draw, you rogue: for, though it be night, yet the moon shines; I’ll make a sop o’ the moonshine of you: draw, you whoreson cullionly barber-monger, draw. Drawing his sword. Oswald Away! I have nothing to do with thee. Kent Draw, you rascal: 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 so carbonado your shanks: draw, you rascal; come your ways. Oswald Help, ho! murder! help! Kent Strike, you slave; stand, rogue, stand; you neat slave, strike. Beating him. Oswald Help, ho! murder! murder! Enter Edmund, with his rapier drawn, Cornwall, Regan, Gloucester, and Servants. Edmund How now! What’s the matter? Kent With you, goodman boy, an you please: come, I’ll flesh ye; come on, young master. Gloucester Weapons! arms! What’s the matter here? Cornwall Keep peace, upon your lives: He dies that strikes again. What is the matter? Regan The messengers from our sister and the king. Cornwall What is your difference? speak. Oswald I am scarce in breath, my lord. Kent No marvel, you have so bestirred your valour. You cowardly rascal, nature disclaims in thee: a tailor made thee. Cornwall Thou art a strange fellow: a tailor make a man? Kent Ay, a tailor, sir: a stone-cutter or painter could not have made him so ill, though he had been but two hours at the trade. Cornwall Speak yet, how grew your quarrel? Oswald This ancient ruffian, sir, whose life I have spared at suit of his gray beard⁠— Kent Thou whoreson zed! thou unnecessary 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 gray beard, you wagtail? Cornwall

Peace, sirrah!
You beastly knave, know you no reverence?

Kent Yes, sir; but anger hath a privilege. Cornwall Why art thou angry? Kent

That such a slave as this should wear a sword,
Who wears no honesty. Such smiling rogues as these,
Like rats, oft bite the holy cords a-twain
Which are too intrinse t’ unloose; smooth every passion
That in the natures of their lords rebel;
Bring oil to fire, snow to