[Enter Kent in disguise and Oswald, the Steward,
severally.]
OSWALD Good dawning to thee, friend. Art of this
house?
KENT Ay.
OSWALD Where may we set our horses?
[5]KENT I’ th’ mire.
OSWALD Prithee, if thou lov’st 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
[10] thee care for me.
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
[15] base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three-suited, hundred-pound,
filthy worsted-stocking knave; a lily-livered,
action-taking, whoreson, glass-gazing, superserviceable,
finical rogue; one-trunk-inheriting
slave; one that wouldst be a bawd in way of good
[20] service, and art nothing but the composition of a
knave, beggar, coward, pander, and the son and heir
of a mongrel bitch; one whom I will beat into
clamorous whining if thou deny’st the least syllable
of thy addition.
[25]OSWALD 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 ago since I tripped up
[30] thy heels and beat thee before the King? [He draws
his sword.] Draw, you rogue, for though it be night,
yet the moon shines. I’ll make a sop o’ th’ moonshine
of you, you whoreson, cullionly barbermonger.
Draw!
[35]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 royalty of her father. Draw, you rogue, or I’ll so
carbonado your shanks! Draw, you rascal! Come
[40] your ways.
OSWALD Help, ho! Murder! Help!
KENT Strike, you slave! Stand, rogue! Stand, you neat
slave! Strike! [He beats Oswald.]
OSWALD Help, ho! Murder, murder!
[Enter Bastard Edmund, with his rapier drawn,
Cornwall, Regan, Gloucester, Servants.]
[45]EDMUND How now, what’s the matter? Part!
KENT With you, goodman boy, if you please. Come, I’ll
flesh you. Come on, young master.
GLOUCESTER
Weapons? Arms? What’s the matter here?
CORNWALL Keep peace, upon your lives! He dies that
[50] 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.
KENT No marvel, you have so bestirred your valor.
[55] You cowardly rascal, nature disclaims in thee; a
tailor made thee.
CORNWALL Thou art a strange fellow. A tailor make a
man?
KENT A tailor, sir. A stonecutter or a painter could not
[60] have made him so ill, though they had been but two
years o’ th’ trade.
CORNWALL Speak yet, how grew your quarrel?
OSWALD This ancient ruffian, sir, whose life I have
spared at suit of his gray beard—
[65]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?
[70]CORNWALL Peace, sirrah!
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,
[75] Who wears no honesty. Such smiling rogues as
these,
Like rats, oft bite the holy cords atwain
Which are too intrinse t’ unloose;
smooth every
passion
[80] That in the natures of their lords rebel—
Being oil to fire, snow to the colder moods—
Renege, affirm, and turn their halcyon beaks
With every gale and vary of their masters,
Knowing naught, like dogs, but following.—
[85] 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 you cackling home to Camelot.
CORNWALL What, art thou mad, old fellow?
[90]GLOUCESTER How fell you out? Say that.
KENT
No contraries hold more antipathy
Than I and such a knave.
CORNWALL
Why dost thou call him “knave”? What is his fault?
KENT His countenance likes me not.
[95]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
Than stands on any shoulder that I see
Before me at this instant.
[100]CORNWALL 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 truth!
[105] An they will take it, so; if not, he’s plain.
These kind of knaves I know, which in this
plainness
Harbor more craft and more corrupter ends
Than twenty silly-ducking observants
[110] That stretch their duties nicely.
KENT
Sir, in good faith, in sincere verity,
Under th’ allowance of your great aspect,
Whose influence, like the wreath of radiant fire
On flick’ring Phoebus’ front—
[115]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 accent was a plain knave,
which for my part I will not be, though I should
[120] win your displeasure to entreat me to ’t.
CORNWALL , [to Oswald] What was th’ offense you gave
him?
OSWALD I never gave him any.
It pleased the King his master very late
[125] To strike at me, upon his misconstruction;
When he, compact, and flattering his displeasure,
Tripped me behind; being down, insulted, railed,
And put upon him such a deal of man
That worthied him, got praises of the King
[130] 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
But Ajax is their fool.
[135]CORNWALL Fetch forth the stocks.—
You stubborn ancient knave, you reverent braggart,
We’ll teach you.
KENT Sir, I am too old to learn.
Call not your stocks for me. I serve the King,
[140] 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.
[145]CORNWALL
Fetch forth the stocks.—As I have life and honor,
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.
[150]REGAN Sir, being his knave, I will.
CORNWALL
This is a fellow of the selfsame color
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
[155] Will check him for ’t. Your purposed low correction
Is such as basest and contemned’st wretches
For pilf’rings and most common trespasses
Are punished with. The King must take it ill
That he, so slightly valued in his messenger,
[160] Should have him thus restrained.
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.
[Kent is put in the stocks.]
[165]CORNWALL Come, my good lord, away.
[All but Gloucester and Kent exit.]
GLOUCESTER
I am sorry for thee, friend. ’Tis the Duke’s
pleasure,
Whose disposition all the world well knows
Will not be rubbed nor stopped. I’ll entreat for thee.
[170]KENT
Pray, do not, sir. I have watched and traveled 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.
GLOUCESTER
The Duke’s to blame in this. ’Twill be ill taken.
[He exits.]
[175]KENT
Good king, that must approve the common saw,
Thou out of heaven’s benediction com’st
To the warm sun. [He takes out a paper.]
Approach, thou beacon to this under globe,
That by thy comfortable beams I may
[180] Peruse this letter. Nothing almost sees miracles
But misery. I know ’tis from Cordelia,
Who hath most fortunately been informed
Of my obscurèd course, and shall find time
From this enormous state, seeking to give
[185] Losses their remedies. All weary and o’erwatched,
Take vantage, heavy eyes, not to behold
This shameful lodging.
Fortune, good night. Smile once more; turn thy
wheel.
[Sleeps.]