The History of King Lear.
¶Kent. Strike you
slaue,
stand rogue,
stand you neate
slaue,
¶Stew. Helpe, ho, murther, helpe.
¶Enter Edmund with his Rapier drawne, Glocester, the
¶Bast. How now, what's the matter?
¶Ken. With you goodman boy, and you plea
se come, ile
slea
sh
1120you, come on yong ma
ster.
¶Glost. Weapons, armes, what's the matter here?
¶Duke. Keepe peace vpon your liues, he dies that
strikes againe,
¶Reg. The me
ssengers from our
si
ster, and the King.
1125Duke. What's your difference,
speake?
¶Stew. I am
scar
se in breath my Lord.
¶Kent. No maruaile you haue
so be
stir'd your valour, you co-
¶wardly ra
scall, nature di
sclaimes in thee, a Taylor made thee.
1130Duke. Thou art a
strange fellow, a Taylour make a man.
¶Kent. I, a taylour
sir, a Stone-cutter, or a Painter could not
¶haue made him
so ill, though he had bene but two houres at the
trade.
¶Glost. Speake yet, how grew your quarrell?
1135Stew. This ancient ruffian
sir, who
se life I haue
spar'd at
sute
¶Kent. Thou whore
son Zed, thou vnnece
ssary letter, my Lord
¶if you will giue me leaue, I will tread this vnboulted villaine in-
¶to morter, and daube the wals of a Iaques with him;
spare my
1140gray-beard you wagtaile?
¶Duke. Peace
sir, you bea
stly knaue you haue no reuerence.
¶Kent. Yes
sir, but anger has a priuiledge.
¶Duke. Why are thou angry?
1145Kent. That
such a
slaue as this
should weare a
sword,
¶That weares no hone
sty,
such
smiling rogues as the
se,
¶Like Rats oft bite tho
se cordes in twaine,
¶Which are to intrench, to inloo
se
smooth euery pa
ssion
¶That in the natures of their Lords rebell,
D3
