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 fuch a flave as this should wear a fword,
Who wears no honefty. Such fmiling rogues as thefe,,
! Like rats, oft bite the holy cords in twain
Too 'intrinficate t'unloofe; footh every pasion,

this unbolted villain] i. e. unrefined by education, the bran yet in him. Metaphor from the bakehouse. WARBURTON.

Like rats, oft bite the holy cords atwaine, Which are t'intrince, t'unloofe;] Thus the firft Editors blundered this Paffage into unintelligible Nonfenfe. Mr. Pope fo far has difengaged it, as to give us plain Senfe; but by throwing out the Epithet boly, 'tis evident, that he was not aware of the Poet's fine Meaning. I'll first establish and prove the Reading; then explain the Allufion. Thus the Poet gave it:

Like rats, oft bite the holy

Cords in twain, Too intrinficate 'unloafe.— This Word again occurs in our Authour's Antony and Cleopatra, where he is speaking to the Afpick:

Come, mortal wretch;

With thy Sharp Teeth this knot
intrinficate

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

That

Yet there are certain punctilios,. or, as I may more nakedly infinuate them, certain intrinsicate Strokes and Words, to which your Activity is not yet amounted, &c.

It means, inward, hidden, perplext; as a Knot, hard to be unravell'd; it is deriv'd from the Latin adverb intrinfecus; from. which the Italians have coin'd a very beautiful Phrase, intrinfi carfi col une, i. e. to grow intimate with, to wind one felf into another. And now to our Author's Senfe. Kent is rating the Steward, as a Parafite of Gonerili's; and fuppofes very juftly, 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 Ms Warburton obferv'd to me, ftiles the Union between Parents and Children the holy Cords.

THEOBALD. Like rats, oft bite the holy cords in tavain

Too intrinficate t'unloofe:-1 By thefe boly cords the Poet means the natural union between paE.. 4

rents

That in the nature of their Lords rebels,
Bring oil to fire, fnow to their colder moods,
Renege, affirm, and turn their halcyon beaks
With ev'ry Gale and Vary of their matters,
As knowing nought, like dogs, but following.
A plague upon your epileptick vifage!
Smile you my fpeeches, as I were a fool?
Goofe, if I had you upon Sarum-plain,
I'd drive ye cackling home to Camelot.
Corn. What art thou mad, old fellow?
Glo. How fell you out? Say that.

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

Corn. Why doft thou call him knave? What is his fault?

Kent. His countenance likes me not.

Corn. No more, perchance, does mine, nor his,

nor hers.

Kent, Sir, 'tis my occupation to be plain;

I have seen better faces in my time,

Than ftand on any fhoulder that I fee
Before me at this inftant

Corn. This is fome fellow,

Who having been prais'd for bluntnefs, doth affect

A fawcy roughnefs; and

conftrains the garb,

Quite from his nature. He can't flatter, he!
An honeft mind and plain,

rents and children. The meta-
phor is taken from the cords of
the fanctuary; and the fomenters
of family differences are com-
pared to thefe facrilegious rats.
The expreffion is fine and noble.
WARBURTON.
epileptick wijage !] The
frighted countenance of a man
ready to fall in a fit.

3Camelot] Was the place where the romances fay, King Artbur kept his court in the west;

he muft fpeak truth;

fo this alludes to fome proverbial fpecchin thofe romances. WAR B

In Somerfetfire near Camelot are many large moors, where are bred great quantities of geefe, fo that many other places are from hence fupplied with quills HANMER. and feathers.

+ - conftrains the garb Quite from his nature.] Forces his outfide or his appearance to fomething totally different from his natural difpofition.

An

An they will take it fo; if not, he's plain.

These kind of knaves I know, which in this plainnefs Harbour more craft, and more corrupter ends,

Than twenty filly ducking obfervants,

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 Phabus' front

Corn. What mean'ft 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 displeasure to intreat me to't.

*

Corn. What was th' offence you gave him?
Stew. I never gave him any.

It pleas'd the King his mafter very lately:
To ftrike at me upon his mifconftruction,
When he conjunct, and flatt'ring his displeasure,
Tript me behind, being down, infulted, rail'd,
And put upon him fuch a deal of man, that
That worthied him; got praifes of the King,

5 Than twenty SILLY ducking obfervants. The epithet SILLY cannot be right. 1ft, Becaufe Cornwall, in this beautiful fpeech, is not talking of the dif ferent fuccefs of thefe two kind of parafites, but of their different corruption of heart. 2. Becaufe he fays thefe ducking obfervants know how to ftretch their duties nicely. I am perfuaded we fhould read,

Than twenty SILKY ducking obfervants, Which not only alludes to the garb of a court fycophant, but admirably well denotes the fmoothness of his chara&er. But

what is more, the poet generally gives them this epithet in other places. So in Richard III. he calls them

-Silky, fy, infinuating
Jacks.
And in Coriolanus,

—when feel grows
Soft as the parafite's filk,--

WARBURTON.

The alteration is more inge-. nious than the arguments by which it is fupported.

though I should ruin your dif pleasure to intreat me to't.] Though I should win you, difpleafed as you now are, to like me fo well as to intreat me to be a knave..

For

For him attempting who was felf-fubdu'd;
And, in the fleshment of this dread exploit,
Drew on me here again.

Kent. None of thefe rogues and cowards,
But Ajax is their fool.

Corn. Fetch forth the Stocks.

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 imployment I was fent to you.
You fhall do finall respect, fhew too bold malice
Against the grace and person of my master,
Stocking his meffenger.

Corn. Fetch forth the Stocks;

As I have life and honour, there fhall he fit till noon. Reg. 'Till noon! 'till night, my Lord, and alk night too.

Kent. Why, Madam, if I were your father's dog, You could not use me fo.

Reg. Sir, being his knave, I will.

[Stocks brought out. Corn. This is a fellow of the felf-fame nature Our fifter speaks of. Come, bring away the Stocks. Glo. Let me befeech your Grace not to do fo; His fault is much, and the good King his mafter Will check him for't. Your purpos'd low correction Is fuch, as bafeft and the meaneft wretches For pilf'rings, and moft common trefpaffes, Are punish'd with; the King muft take it ill, That he, fo flightly valued in his meffenger, 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, affaulted,

For following her affairs.

Come, my Lord, away.

Put in his legs

[Kent is put in the Stocks. [Exeunt Regan and Cornwall. SCENE

Glo. I'm forry for thee, friend. 'Tis the Duke's pleasure,

Whofe difpofition, all the world well knows,

• Will not be rubb'd nor stopp'd. I'll intreat for thee. Kent. Pray, do not, Sir. I've watch'd and travell'd hard;

Sometime I fhall fleep out, the reft I'll whistle.
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 muft approve the common

7

Saw,

That out of heaven's benediction com'st

To the warm fun!

Approach, thou beacon to this under-globe,

[Looking up to the moon.

That by thy comfortable beans I may

Perufe this letter. Nothing almoft fees miracles,
But mifery. I know, 'tis from Cordelia,

Will not be rubb'd nor ftopp'd] Metaphor from bowling. WARB. 1 Good King, that must approve the common Saw,] That art now to exemplify the common proverb,

That out of, &c. That changeft better for worse. Hanmer obferves, that it is a proverbial faying, applied to thofe who are turned out of house and home to the open weather. It was perhaps firft ufed of men difmiffed from an hofpital, or houfe of charity, fuch as was erected formerly in ma

[Reading the letter.

Who

ny places for travellers. Thofe houfes had names properly enough alluded to by Heaven's Benediction.

I know, 'tis from Cordelia,, &c.] This paffage, which fome of the editors have degraded, as fpurious, to the margin, and others have filently altered, I have faithfully printed according to the quarto, from which the folio differs only in punctuation. The paffage is very obfcure, if not corrupt. Perhaps it may be read thus:

Cordelia-has been-informed

عرة