| ACT II SCENE 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. |
| OSWALD | Prithee, if thou lovest me, tell me. | 5 |
| 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. |
| OSWALD | Why dost thou use me thus? I know thee not. | 10 |
| 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, |
| hundred-pound, filthy, worsted-stocking knave; a | 15 |
| 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, | 20 |
| 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 |
| on one that is neither known of thee nor knows thee! | 25 |
| 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 |
| shines; I'll make a sop o' the moonshine of you: | 30 |
| 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 |
| royalty of her father: draw, you rogue, or I'll so | 35 |
| 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. |
| [Beating him] |
| OSWALD | Help, ho! murder! murder! | 40 |
| [
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? |
| CORNWALL | Keep peace, upon your lives: | 45 |
| 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. |
| KENT | No marvel, you have so bestirred your valour. You | 50 |
| 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 |
| not have made him so ill, though he had been but two | 55 |
| 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,-- |
| KENT | Thou whoreson zed! thou unnecessary letter! My | 60 |
| 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! |
| You beastly knave, know you no reverence? | 65 |
| 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, |
| Like rats, oft bite the holy cords a-twain | 70 |
| 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, | 75 |
| 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'ld drive ye cackling home to Camelot. | 80 |
| 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. |
| CORNWALL | Why dost thou call him a knave? What's his offence? | 85 |
| 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 |
| Than stands on any shoulder that I see | 90 |
| 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 |
| Quite from his nature: he cannot flatter, he, | 95 |
| 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 | 100 |
| 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 |
| On flickering Phoebus' front,-- | 105 |
| 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 | 110 |
| 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: |
| It pleased the king his master very late | 115 |
| 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 | 120 |
| 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. | 125 |
| CORNWALL | 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; | 130 |
| 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. |
| CORNWALL | Fetch forth the stocks! As I have life and honour, | 135 |
| 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. |
| REGAN | Sir, being his knave, I will. | 140 |
| 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 |
| Will cheque him for 't: your purposed low correction | 145 |
| 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. | 150 |
| 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] |
| Come, my good lord, away. | 155 |
| [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; |
| Some time I shall sleep out, the rest I'll whistle. | 160 |
| 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, |
| Thou out of heaven's benediction comest | 165 |
| 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, | 170 |
| 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, |
| Take vantage, heavy eyes, not to behold | 175 |
| This shameful lodging. |
| Fortune, good night: smile once more: turn thy wheel! |
| [Sleeps] |
King Lear Overview