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'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 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 base, proud, 
	shallow, beggarly, three-suited, hundred-pound, filthy 
	worsted-stocking knave; a lily-livered, action-taking, 
	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.

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 since I tripped up thy heels and beat 
	thee before the king?
	[Drawing 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 barber-monger, draw.

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 your ways.

Oswald	Help, ho! Murder! Help!

Kent	Strike, you slave! Stand, rogue, stand; you neat slave, 
	strike.
												[Beats him.
Oswald	Help, ho! Murder, murder!

                   Enter EDMUND, with his rapier drawn.

Edmund	How now! What's the matter? Part!

Kent	With you, goodman boy, if you please. Come, I'll flesh ye. 
	Come on, young master.

             Enter CORNWALL, REGAN, GLOUCESTER, and SERVANTS.

Gloucester	Weapons, arms? What's the matter here?

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.

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	A tailor, sir. A stone-cutter or a painter could not 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 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?

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,
	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 naught, 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.

Cornwall	What, 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 knave? What is his fault?

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
	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,
	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 faith, in sincere verity,
	Under th'allowance of your great aspect,
	Whose influence, like the wreath of radiant fire
	On flick'ring 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 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 th'offence you gave him?

Oswald	I never gave him any.
	It pleased the king his master very late
	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
	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.

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,
	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,
	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.

Cornwall	This is a fellow of the selfsame 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 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,
	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.
	Come, my 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 rubbed nor stopped. I'll entreat for thee.

Kent	Pray do not, sir. I have watched and travelled 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.
												[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 informed
	Of my obscurd course; and shall find time
	From this enormous state, seeking to give
	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!
												[He sleeps.
