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  • Title: King Lear (Quarto 2, 1619)
  • Editor: Pervez Rizvi
  • Coordinating editor: Michael Best
  • ISBN: 978-1-55058-463-9

    Copyright Michael Best. This text may be freely used for educational, non-profit purposes; for all other uses contact the Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Editor: Pervez Rizvi
    Not Peer Reviewed

    King Lear (Quarto 2, 1619)

    The Hi story of King Lear.
    Kent. Strike you slaue, stand rogue, stand you neate slaue,
    1115 strike.
    Stew. Helpe, ho, murther, helpe.

    Enter Edmund with his Rapier drawne, Gloce ster, the
    Duke and Dutche s s e.

    Ba st . How now, what's the matter?
    Ken. With you goodman boy, and you please come, ile slea sh
    1120 you, come on yong ma ster.
    Glo st . Weapons, armes, what's the matter here?
    Duke. Keepe peace vpon your liues, he dies that strikes againe,
    what's the matter?
    Reg. The me s s engers from our si ster, and the King.
    1125 Duke. What's your difference, speake?
    Stew. I am scarse in breath my Lord.
    Kent. No maruaile you haue so be stir'd your valour, you co-
    wardly rascall, nature disclaimes in thee, a Taylor made thee.
    1130 Duke. 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.
    Glo st . Speake yet, how grew your quarrell?
    1135 Stew. This ancient ruffian sir, whose life I haue spar'd at sute
    of his gray-beard.
    Kent. Thou whoreson Zed, thou vnnece s s ary 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
    1140 gray-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?
    1145 Kent. That such a slaue as this should weare a sword,
    That weares no hone sty, such smiling rogues as these,
    Like Rats oft bite those cordes in twaine,
    Which are to intrench, to inloose smooth euery pa s sion
    That in the natures of their Lords rebell,
    Bring
    D3