SCENE IIBefore Gloucester's castle.
Enter KENT and OSWALD, severally.
Good dawning to thee, friend: art of
Where may we set our horses?
I' the mire.
Prithee, if thou lovest me, tell me.
I love thee not.
Why, then, I care not for thee.
If I had thee in Lipsbury pinfold, I (10)
would make thee care for me.
Why dost thou use me thus? I
know thee not.
Fellow, I know thee.
What dost thou know me for?
A knave; a rascal; an eater of
broken meats; a base, proud, shallow, beggarly,
three-suited, 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 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.
Why, what a monstrous fellow art
thou, thus to rail on one that is neither known (29)
of thee nor knows thee!
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 shines; I'll make a
sop o' the moonshine of you: draw, you
whoreson cullionly barber-monger, draw. [Drawing his sword.
Away! I have nothing to do with
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
Help, ho! murder! help!
Strike, you slave; stand, rogue,
stand; you neat slave, strike. [Beating him.
Help, ho! murder! murder! Enter EDMUND, with his rapier drawn, CORNWALL, REGAN, GLOUCESTER, and Servants.
How now! What's the matter?
With you, goodman boy, an you
please: come, I'll flesh ye: come on, young
Weapons! arms! What's the matter (51)
Keep peace, upon your lives:
He dies that strikes again. What is the matter?
The messengers from our sister and the king.
What is your difference? speak.
I am scarce in breath, my lord.
No marvel, you have so bestirred
your valour. You cowardly rascal, nature disclaims (60)
in thee: a tailor made thee.
Thou art a strange fellow: a tailor make a man?
Ay, a tailor, sir: a stone-cutter or a
painter could not have made him so ill,
though he had been but two hours at the trade.
Speak yet, how grew your quarrel?
This ancient ruffian, sir, whose life I
have spared at suit of his gray beard,--
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 walls of a jakes with
him. Spare my gray beard, you wagtail?
You beastly knave, know you no reverence?
Yes, sir; but anger hath a privilege.
Why art thou angry?
That such a slave as this should wear a sword,
Who wears no honesty. Such smelling rogues as these, (80)
Like rats, oft bite the holy cords atwain
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, (90)
I'ld drive ye cackling home to Camelot.
What, art thou mad, old fellow?
How fell you out? say that.
No contraries hold more antipathy
Than I and such a knave.
Why dost thou call him a knave?
What's his offence?
His countenance likes me not.
No more, perchance, does mine, nor his, nor hers.
Sir, 'tis my occupation to be plain:
I have seen better faces in my time (100)
Than stands on any shoulder that I see
Before me at this instant.
This is some fellow,
Who, having been praised 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
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 (110)
That stretch their duties nicely.
Sir, in good sooth, in sincere verity,
Under the allowance of your great aspect,
Whose influence, like the wreath of radiant fire
On flickering Phoebus' front,--
What mean'st by this?
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.
What was the offence you gave him?
I never gave him any:
It pleased the king his master very late
To strike at me, upon his misconstruction;
When he, conjunct, and flattering his dis-
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-subdued; (130)
And, in the fleshment of this dread exploit,
Drew on me here again.
None of these rogues and cowards
But Ajax is their fool.
Fetch forth the stocks!
You stubborn ancient knave, you reverend braggart,
We'll teach you--
Sir, I am too old to learn:
Call not for 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. (140)
Fetch forth the stocks! As I have life and honor,
There shall he sit till noon.
Till noon! till night, my lord; and all night too.
Why, madam, if I were your father's dog,
You should not use me so.
Sir, being his knave, I will.
This is a fellow of the self-same color
Our sister speaks of. Come, bring away the stocks! [Stocks brought out.
Let me beseech your grace not to do so:
His fault is much, and the good king his master (149)
Will check 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.
Should have him thus restrain'd.
I'll answer that.
My sister may receive it much more worse,
To have her gentleman abused, 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.
I am sorry for thee, friend; 'tis the duke's pleasure,
Whose disposition, all the world well knows, (161)
Will not be rubb'd nor stopped: I'll entreat for thee.
Pray do not, sir: I have watched 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!
The duke's to blame in this; 'twill be ill taken. [Exit.
Good king, that must approve the common saw,
That out of heaven's benediction comest
To the warm sun!
Approach, thou beacon to this under globe, (171)
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-
Take vantage, heavy eyes, not to behold (179)
This shameful lodging.
Fortune, good night: smile once more; turn thy wheel! [Sleeps.