| ACT IISCENE II | Before Gloucester's castle. | |
| | Enter KENT and OSWALD, severally | |
| OSWALD | Good dawning to thee, friend: art of this house? | |
| KENT | Ay. | |
| OSWALD | Where may we set our horses? | |
| KENT | I' the mire. | 5 |
| OSWALD | Prithee, if thou lovest me, tell me. | |
| KENT | I love thee not. | |
| OSWALD | Why, then, I care not for thee. | |
| KENT | If I had thee in Lipsbury pinfold, I would make thee | |
| | care for me. | 10 |
| OSWALD | Why dost thou use me thus? I know thee not. | |
| KENT | Fellow, I know thee. | |
| OSWALD | What dost thou know me for? | |
| KENT | A knave; a rascal; an eater of broken meats; a | |
| | base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three-suited, | 15 |
| | hundred-pound, filthy, worsted-stocking knave; a | |
| | lily-livered, action-taking knave, a whoreson, | |
| | glass-gazing, super-serviceable finical rogue; | |
| | one-trunk-inheriting slave; one that wouldst be a | |
| | bawd, in way of good service, and art nothing but | 20 |
| | the composition of a knave, beggar, coward, pandar, | |
| | and the son and heir of a mongrel bitch: one whom I | |
| | will beat into clamorous whining, if thou deniest | |
| | the least syllable of thy addition. | |
| OSWALD | Why, what a monstrous fellow art thou, thus to rail | 25 |
| | on one that is neither known of thee nor knows thee! | |
| KENT | What a brazen-faced varlet art thou, to deny thou | |
| | knowest me! Is it two days ago since I tripped up | |
| | thy heels, and beat thee before the king? Draw, you | |
| | rogue: for, though it be night, yet the moon | 30 |
| | shines; I'll make a sop o' the moonshine of you: | |
| | draw, you whoreson cullionly barber-monger, draw. | |
| | Drawing his sword | |
| OSWALD | Away! I have nothing to do with thee. | |
| KENT | Draw, you rascal: you come with letters against the | |
| | king; and take vanity the puppet's part against the | 35 |
| | royalty of her father: draw, you rogue, or I'll so | |
| | carbonado your shanks: draw, you rascal; come your ways. | |
| OSWALD | Help, ho! murder! help! | |
| KENT | Strike, you slave; stand, rogue, stand; you neat | |
| | slave, strike. | 40 |
| | Beating him | |
| OSWALD | Help, ho! murder! murder! | |
| | Enter EDMUND, with his rapier drawn, CORNWALL,REGAN, GLOUCESTER, and Servants | |
| EDMUND | How now! What's the matter? | |
| KENT | With you, goodman boy, an you please: come, I'll | |
| | flesh ye; come on, young master. | |
| GLOUCESTER | Weapons! arms! What 's the matter here? | 45 |
| CORNWALL | Keep peace, upon your lives: | |
| | He dies that strikes again. What is the matter? | |
| REGAN | The messengers from our sister and the king. | |
| CORNWALL | What is your difference? speak. | |
| OSWALD | I am scarce in breath, my lord. | 50 |
| KENT | No marvel, you have so bestirred your valour. You | |
| | cowardly rascal, nature disclaims in thee: a | |
| | tailor made thee. | |
| CORNWALL | Thou art a strange fellow: a tailor make a man? | |
| KENT | Ay, a tailor, sir: a stone-cutter or painter could | 55 |
| | not have made him so ill, though he had been but two | |
| | hours at the trade. | |
| CORNWALL | Speak yet, how grew your quarrel? | |
| OSWALD | This ancient ruffian, sir, whose life I have spared | |
| | at suit of his gray beard,-- | 60 |
| KENT | Thou whoreson zed! thou unnecessary letter! My | |
| | lord, if you will give me leave, I will tread this | |
| | unbolted villain into mortar, and daub the wall of | |
| | a jakes with him. Spare my gray beard, you wagtail? | |
| CORNWALL | Peace, sirrah! | 65 |
| | You beastly knave, know you no reverence? | |
| KENT | Yes, sir; but anger hath a privilege. | |
| CORNWALL | Why art thou angry? | |
| KENT | That such a slave as this should wear a sword, | |
| | Who wears no honesty. Such smiling rogues as these, | 70 |
| | Like rats, oft bite the holy cords a-twain | |
| | Which are too intrinse t' unloose; smooth every passion | |
| | That in the natures of their lords rebel; | |
| | Bring oil to fire, snow to their colder moods; | |
| | Renege, affirm, and turn their halcyon beaks | 75 |
| | With every gale and vary of their masters, | |
| | Knowing nought, like dogs, but following. | |
| | A plague upon your epileptic visage! | |
| | Smile you my speeches, as I were a fool? | |
| | Goose, if I had you upon Sarum plain, | 80 |
| | I'ld drive ye cackling home to Camelot. | |
| CORNWALL | Why, art thou mad, old fellow? | |
| GLOUCESTER | How fell you out? say that. | |
| KENT | No contraries hold more antipathy | |
| | Than I and such a knave. | 85 |
| CORNWALL | Why dost thou call him a knave? What's his offence? | |
| KENT | His countenance likes me not. | |
| CORNWALL | 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 | 90 |
| | Than stands on any shoulder that I see | |
| | Before me at this instant. | |
| CORNWALL | This is some fellow, | |
| | Who, having been praised for bluntness, doth affect | |
| | A saucy roughness, and constrains the garb | 95 |
| | Quite from his nature: he cannot flatter, he, | |
| | An honest mind and plain, he must speak truth! | |
| | An they will take it, so; if not, he's plain. | |
| | These kind of knaves I know, which in this plainness | |
| | Harbour more craft and more corrupter ends | 100 |
| | Than twenty silly ducking observants | |
| | That stretch their duties nicely. | |
| KENT | Sir, in good sooth, in sincere verity, | |
| | Under the allowance of your great aspect, | |
| | Whose influence, like the wreath of radiant fire | 105 |
| | On flickering Phoebus' front,-- | |
| CORNWALL | What mean'st by this? | |
| KENT | To go out of my dialect, which you | |
| | discommend so much. I know, sir, I am no | |
| | flatterer: he that beguiled you in a plain | 110 |
| | accent was a plain knave; which for my part | |
| | I will not be, though I should win your displeasure | |
| | to entreat me to 't. | |
| CORNWALL | What was the offence you gave him? | |
| OSWALD | I never gave him any: | 115 |
| | It pleased the king his master very late | |
| | To strike at me, upon his misconstruction; | |
| | When he, conjunct and flattering his displeasure, | |
| | Tripp'd me behind; being down, insulted, rail'd, | |
| | And put upon him such a deal of man, | 120 |
| | That worthied him, got praises of the king | |
| | For him attempting who was self-subdued; | |
| | And, in the fleshment of this dread exploit, | |
| | Drew on me here again. | |
| KENT | None of these rogues and cowards | 125 |
| | But Ajax is their fool. | |
| CORNWALL | Fetch forth the stocks! | |
| | You stubborn ancient knave, you reverend braggart, | |
| | We'll teach you-- | |
| KENT | Sir, I am too old to learn: | 130 |
| | Call not your stocks for me: I serve the king; | |
| | On whose employment I was sent to you: | |
| | You shall do small respect, show too bold malice | |
| | Against the grace and person of my master, | |
| | Stocking his messenger. | 135 |
| CORNWALL | Fetch forth the stocks! As I have life and honour, | |
| | There shall he sit till noon. | |
| REGAN | Till noon! till night, my lord; and all night too. | |
| KENT | Why, madam, if I were your father's dog, | |
| | You should not use me so. | 140 |
| REGAN | Sir, being his knave, I will. | |
| CORNWALL | This is a fellow of the self-same colour | |
| | Our sister speaks of. Come, bring away the stocks! | |
| | Stocks brought out | |
| GLOUCESTER | Let me beseech your grace not to do so: | |
| | His fault is much, and the good king his master | 145 |
| | Will cheque him for 't: your purposed low correction | |
| | Is such as basest and contemned'st wretches | |
| | For pilferings and most common trespasses | |
| | Are punish'd with: the king must take it ill, | |
| | That he's so slightly valued in his messenger, | 150 |
| | Should have him thus restrain'd. | |
| CORNWALL | I'll answer that. | |
| REGAN | My sister may receive it much more worse, | |
| | To have her gentleman abused, assaulted, | |
| | For following her affairs. Put in his legs. | 155 |
| | KENT is put in the stocks | |
| | Come, my good lord, away. | |
| | Exeunt all but GLOUCESTER and KENT | |
| GLOUCESTER | I am sorry for thee, friend; 'tis the duke's pleasure, | |
| | Whose disposition, all the world well knows, | |
| | Will not be rubb'd nor stopp'd: I'll entreat for thee. | |
| KENT | Pray, do not, sir: I have watched and travell'd hard; | 160 |
| | Some time I shall sleep out, the rest I'll whistle. | |
| | A good man's fortune may grow out at heels: | |
| | Give you good morrow! | |
| GLOUCESTER | The duke's to blame in this; 'twill be ill taken. | |
| | Exit | |
| KENT | Good king, that must approve the common saw, | 165 |
| | Thou out of heaven's benediction comest | |
| | To the warm sun! | |
| | Approach, thou beacon to this under globe, | |
| | That by thy comfortable beams I may | |
| | Peruse this letter! Nothing almost sees miracles | 170 |
| | But misery: I know 'tis from Cordelia, | |
| | Who hath most fortunately been inform'd | |
| | Of my obscured course; and shall find time | |
| | From this enormous state, seeking to give | |
| | Losses their remedies. All weary and o'erwatch'd, | 175 |
| | Take vantage, heavy eyes, not to behold | |
| | This shameful lodging. | |
| | Fortune, good night: smile once more: turn thy wheel! | |
| | Sleeps | |
