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Stew. I am scarce in breath, my lord.
Kent. No marvel, you have so bestir'd

your valour'; you cowardly rascal! nature disclaims all thare in thee: a taylor made thee.

Corn. Thou art a strange fellow; a taylor make a man

Kent. I, a taylor, Sir; a stone-cutter, or a painter could not have made him so ill, tho' they had been but two hours o'th' trade,

Corn. Speak yet, how grew your quarrel?

Stew. This ancient 'ruffian, Sir, whose life I have spar'd at suit of his grey beard

Kent. Thou whorson zed! thou unnecessary letter! my lord, if yon 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 beastly knave, know you no reverence ?

Kent. Yes, Sir, but anger hath a privilege.
Corn. Why art thou angry?

Kent. That such a flave as this shou'd wear a sword, Who wears no honesty: such smiling rogues as these, Like rats, oft bite the holy cords in twain (15)

Too (15) Like rats, oft bite the holy cords atwaine, Which, are t'intrince, t' unloose 5 ] Thus the first editors blunder'd this passage into unintelligible nonsense. Mr. Pope so far has disengag'd them, as to give us plain sense; but by throwing out the epithet bolyg: 'tis evident, he was not aware of the poet's fine meaning. I'll fiiit establish and prove the reading; then explain the allufion. Thus the poet gave it;

Like rats, oft bite the holy cords in twain,

Top ’intrinlicate to unloose This word again cccurs in our auther's Antony and Cleopatra, where . fe is speaking to the aspick;

- Come, mortal wretch;
With thy sharp teeth this knot intrinsicate

Of life at once untie.
And we meet with it in Cynthia's Revels by Ben. Finson.

Yet there are certain purtilio's, or (as Í may more nakedly infia, nuate them) certain intrinsicate ftrokes and wards, to which your ace tivity is not yet amounted; &c. It means, inward, hidden; perplext; as a knot, hard to velld; it is deriv'd from the Latin adverb intrinsecus; from which



Too 'intrinsicate e unloose: footh every paffion,
That in the nature of their lords rebels :
Bring oil to fire, snow to their colder moods;
Renege, affirm, and turn their halcyon beaks
With ev'ry Gale and Vary of their masters;
As knowing nought, like dogs, but following.
A plague upon your epileptick visage !
Smile you my speeches, as I were a fool
Goose, if I had you upon Sarum-plain,
I'd drive ye cackling home to Camelot. (16)

Corn. What art thou mad, old fellow?
Glo. How fell you out? say that.

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

Corn. Why dost thou call him knave: what is his fault?
Kent. His countenance likes me not.
Corn. No more, perchance, does inine, nor his, nor hers.

Kent. Sir, 'tis my occupation to be plain;
I have seen better faces in my time,
Than stand on any shoulder that I see
Before me at this inftant.

Corn. This is some fellow, Who having been prais'd for bluntness, doth affect A faucy roughness; and constrains the garb, Quite from his nature. He can't flatter, he,the Italians have coin'd a very beautiful phrase, intrinsicarsi col uno, i, e, to grow intimate with, to wind one self into another. And now to our author's sense. Kent is rating the steward, as a parasite of Gonerill's; and fupposes very justly, that he has fomented the quarrel betwixt that princess and her father: in which office, he compares him to a facrilegious rat: and by a fine metaphor, as Mr. Warburton observed 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 verse, I presume this Camelot to be that mention'd by Holingsbead, and callid Camaletum, in the marshes of Somersetshire, where there was an old tradition of a very strong Caftle. Langbam in his account of queen Elizabeth's reception at Kenil. wortb, says, from king Artbur's acts, that that Prince kept his royal court at Camelot : but whether this be the place already mention'd, or some other of that name in Wales, or the Camelot in Sterling-County in Scotland, I am not able to say.


An honeft mind and plain, he must speak truth; ,
An they will take it, fo; if not, he's plain.
These kind of knaves I know, which in this plainness
Harbour more craft, and more corrupter ends,
Than twenty filly ducking observants,
That stretch their duties nicely.

Kent. Sir, in good faith, in fincere verity,
Under th' allowance of your grand aspect,
Whose influence, like the wreath of radiant fire
On flickering Phæbus' front-

Corn. What mean'st by this?

Kent. To go out of my dialect, which you discommend fo much: I know, Sir, I am no Aatterer; he, that beguild you in a plain accent, was a plain knave; which for my part I will not be, though I should wia your displeasure to intreat me to't.

Corr. What was th’offence you gave him?

Stew. I never gave him any :
It pleas'd the King his mafter very lately
To strike at me upon his misconstruction ;
When he conjunct, and flatt'ring his displeasure,
Tript me behind; being down, insulted, rail'd,
And put upon him such a deal of man, that
That worthied him; got praises of the King,
For him attempting who was felf-subdu'd;
And, in the fleshment of this dread exploit,
Drew on me here again.

Kent. None of these rogues, and cowards,
But Ajax is their fool. té treme

Corn. Fetch forth the Stocks.
You stubborn ancient knave, you rey'rend braggart,
We'll teach you-

Kent. Sir, I am too old to learn :
Call not your Stocks for me, I serve the King ;
On whose employment I was sent to you.
You shall do small respect, shew too bold malice
Against the grace and person of my master,
Stocking his messenger.

Corn. Fetch forth the Stocks;
As I have life and honour, there thall he fit 'till noon.

Reg. Reg. 'Till noon! 'till night, my lord, and all night too. ·Kent. Why, Madam, if I were your father's dog, You could not use me so.

Reg. Sir, being his knave, I will. [Stocks brought out.

Corn. This is a fellow of the self-fame nature
Our fifter speaks' of. Come, bring away the Stocks,

Glo. Let me beseech your Grace not to do so;
His fault is much, and the good King his master
Will check him for’t; your purpos'd low correction
Is such, as basest and the meanest wretches
For pilf'rings, and most common trespasses,
Are punith'd with. The King must take it ill,
That he, so slightly valued in his messenger,
Should have him thus reftrain'd.

Corn. I'll answer that.

Reg. My Sifter may receive it much more worfe,
To have her Gentleman abus'd, assaulted,
For following her affairs. Put in his legs

[Kent is put in the Stocks. Come, my lord, away. [Exeunt Regan and Cornwall.

Glo. I'm sorry for thee, friend; 'tis the Duke's pleasure, Whose difpofition, all the world well knows, Will not be rubb'd nor stop'd. I'll intreat for thee.

Kent. Pray, do not, Sir. I've watch'd and travell'd Some time I shall sleep out, the rest I’H whistle: [hard; 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 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 Peruse this letter. Nothing almost fees miracles, But' misery. I know, 'tis from Cordelia ; Who hath most fortunately been inform'd

obscured course. '4 I shall find time From this enormous state and seek to give


Of my


x dinjector menbron of Cerastin letter, where Haut attempt trend by the moonlight, de

King LE AR.
Lofies their remedies." All weary and o'er-watch'd,
Take vantage, heavy eyes, not to behold
This shameful lodging.
Fortune, good night; smile once more, turn thy wheel.

[He feeps.
SCENE changes to a part of a Heath,

Enter Edgar.
Edz. I'And, by the happy hollow of a tree,
Escap'd the hunt. No port is free, no place,
That Guard and most unusual vigilance
Does not attend my taking. Whiles I may 'scape,
I will preserve myself: and am bethought
To take the baseit and the poorest 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 ; (17)
And with presented nakedness out-face
The winds, and persecutions of the sky.
The country gives me proof and president
Of bedlam beggars, who, with roaring voices,
Strike in their numb’d and mortify'd bare arms -
Pins, wooden pricks, nails, sprigs' of rosemary ;
And with this horrible object, from low farms,

put all


my hair in knots;] This is a modern reading: All the old copies intended to read, and the first folio actually does ;

-elfe all


bair in knots.
i. e. twist it in the manner of elfe-locks: i. e. hairs so intricately inter-
wove, as not to be disengag'd ; and by fuperftition suppos’d to have
been twisted by Elves, or Fairies. We find them "mention'd in our
author's Romeo and Juliet;

That plats the manes of horses in the night,
And cakes the elf-locks in foul Nuttish hairs,

Which once untangled, much misfortune bodes.
And in the induction to Ben. Jonson's Magnetick Lady.

-But if you light on the wrong end, you will pull all into a knot or elf-lock; which nothing but the theers, or a candle, will undo or separate.


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