FIRST SERVANT.
Hold your hand, my lord:
I have serv’d you ever since I was a child;
But better service have I never done you
Than now to bid you hold.
REGAN.
How now, you dog!
FIRST SERVANT.
If you did wear a beard upon your chin,
I’d shake it on this quarrel. What do you mean?
CORNWALL.
My villain?
[Draws, and runs at him.]
FIRST SERVANT.
Nay, then, come on, and take the chance of anger.
[Draws. They fight. Cornwall is wounded.]
REGAN.
[To another servant.] Give me thy sword. A peasant stand up thus?
[Snatches a sword, comes behind, and stabs him.]
FIRST SERVANT.
O, I am slain! My lord, you have one eye left
To see some mischief on him. O!