Before GLOUCESTER'S Castle. |
|
Enter KENT and OSWALD, severally. |
Osw. Good dawning to thee, friend: art of this house? |
Kent. Ay. |
Osw. Where may we set our horses? |
Kent. I' the mire. |
Osw. Prithee, if thou lovest me, tell me. |
Kent. I love thee not. |
Osw. Why, then I care not for thee. |
Kent. If I had thee in Lipsbury pinfold, I would make thee care for me. |
Osw. Why dost thou use me thus? I know thee not. |
Kent. Fellow, I know thee. |
Osw. What dost thou know me for? |
Kent. A knave, a rascal, an eater of broken meats; a base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three-suited, hundred-pound, filthy, worsted-stocking knave; a lily-liver'd, action-taking knave; a whoreson, glass-gazing, superserviceable, finical rogue; one-trunk-inheriting slave; one that wouldst be a bawd, in way of good service, and art nothing but 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. |
Osw. Why, what a monstrous fellow art thou, thus to rail 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 since I tripped up thy heels and beat thee before the king? Draw, you rogue; for, though it be night, yet the moon shines: I'll make a sop o' the moonshine of you. [Drawing his sword.] Draw, you whoreson, cullionly, barber-monger, draw. |
Osw. 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 royalty of her father. Draw, you rogue, or I'll so carbonado your shanks: draw, you rascal; come your ways. |
Osw. Help, ho! murder! help! |
Kent. Strike, you slave; stand, rogue, stand; you neat slave, strike. [Beating him. |
Osw. Help, oh! murder! murder! |
|
Enter EDMUND with his rapier drawn. |
Edm. How now! What's the matter? [Parting them. |
Kent. With you, goodman boy, if you please: come, |
I'll flesh ye; come on, young master. |
|
Enter CORNWALL, REGAN, GLOUCESTER, and Servants. |
Glo. Weapons! arms! What's the matter here? |
Corn. Keep peace, upon your lives: |
He dies that strikes again. What is the matter? |
Reg. The messengers from our sister and the king. |
Corn. What is your difference? speak. |
Osw. I am scarce in breath, my lord. |
Kent. No marvel, you have so bestirred your valour. You cowardly rascal, nature disclaims in thee: a tailor made thee. |
Corn. Thou art a strange fellow; a tailor make a man? |
Kent. Ay, a tailor, sir: a stone-cutter or a painter could not have made him so ill, though they had been but two hours o' the trade. |
Corn. Speak yet, how grew your quarrel? |
Osw. This ancient ruffian, sir, whose life I have spar'd at suit of his grey beard,— |
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 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 such a slave as this should wear a sword, |
Who wears no honesty. Such smiling rogues as these, |
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 |
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, |
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 such a knave. |
Corn. Why dost 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 stands on any shoulder that I see |
Before me at this instant. |
Corn. This is some fellow, |
Who, having been prais'd for bluntness, doth affect |
A saucy roughness, and constrains the garb |
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 |
Than twenty silly-ducking observants, |
That stretch their duties nicely. |
Kent. Sir, in good sooth, in sincere verity, |
Under the allowance of your grand aspect, |
Whose influence, like the wreath of radiant fire |
On flickering Phœbus' front,— |
Corn. 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 accent was a plain knave; which for my part I will not be, though I should win your displeasure to entreat me to 't. |
Corn. What was the offence you gave him? |
Osw. I never gave him any: |
It pleas'd 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, |
That worthied him, got praises of the king |
For him attempting who was self-subdu'd; |
And, in the fleshment of this dread exploit, |
Drew on me here again. |
Kent. None of these rogues and cowards |
But Ajax is their fool. |
Corn. Fetch forth the stocks! |
You stubborn ancient knave, you reverend braggart, |
We'll teach you. |
Kent. Sir, I am too old to learn, |
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. |
Corn. Fetch forth the stocks! As I have life and honour, |
There shall he sit till noon. |
Reg. 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. |
Reg. Sir, being his knave, I will. |
Corn. This is a fellow of the self-same colour |
Our sister speaks of. Come, bring away the stocks. [Stocks brought out. |
Glo. Let me beseech your Grace not to do so. |
His fault is much, and the good king his master |
Will check him for 't: your purpos'd 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, so slightly valu'd in his messenger, |
Should have him thus restrain'd. |
Corn. I'll answer that. |
Reg. My sister may receive it much more worse |
To have her gentleman abus'd, assaulted, |
For following her affairs. Put in his legs. [KENT is put in the stocks. |
Come, my good lord, away. [Exeunt all but GLOUCESTER and KENT. |
Glo. 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 watch'd and travell'd hard; |
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! |
Glo. The duke's to blame in this; 'twill be ill taken. [Exit. |
Kent. Good king, that must approve the common saw, |
Thou out of heaven's benediction com'st |
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 |
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'er-watch'd, |
Take vantage, heavy eyes, not to behold |
This shameful lodging. |
Fortune, good night, smile once more; turn thy wheel! [He sleeps. |
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