1104for though it be night, yet the Moone shines, Ile make a

1105sop oth'Moonshine of you, you whoreson Cullyenly

1106Barber-monger, draw.

1107Stew. Away, I haue nothing to do with thee.

1108Kent. Draw you Rascall, you come with Letters a-

1109gainst the King, and take Vanitie the puppets part, a-

1110gainst the Royaltie of her Father: draw you Rogue, or

1111Ile so carbonado your shanks, draw you Rascall, come

1112your waies.

1113Ste. Helpe, ho, murther, helpe.

1114Kent. Strike you slaue: stand rogue, stand you neat

1115slaue, strike.

1116Stew. Helpe hoa, murther, murther.

1118Bast. How now, what's the matter? Part.

1119Kent. With you goodman Boy, if you please, come,

1120Ile flesh ye, come on yong Master.

1121Glo. Weapons? Armes? what's the matter here?

1122Cor. Keepe peace vpon your liues, he dies that strikes

1123againe, what is the matter?

1124Reg. The Messengers from our Sister, and the King?

1125Cor. What is your difference, speake?

1126Stew. I am scarce in breath my Lord.

1127Kent. No Maruell, you haue so bestir'd your valour,

1128you cowardly Rascall, nature disclaimes in thee: a Taylor

1129made thee.

1130Cor. Thou art a strange fellow, a Taylor make a man?

1131Kent. A Taylor Sir, a Stone-cutter, or a Painter, could

1132not haue made him so ill, though they had bin but two

1133yeares oth'trade.

1134Cor. Speake yet, how grew your quarrell?

1135Ste. This ancient Ruffian Sir, whose life I haue spar'd

1136at sute of his gray-beard.

1137Kent. Thou whoreson Zed, thou vnnecessary letter:

1138my Lord, if you will giue me leaue, I will tread this vn-

1139boulted villaine into morter, and daube the wall of a

1140Iakes with him. Spare my gray-beard, you wagtaile?

1141Cor. Peace sirrah,

1142You beastly knaue, know you no reuerence?

1143Kent. Yes Sir, but anger hath a priuiledge.

1144Cor. Why art thou angrie?

1145Kent. That such a slaue as this should weare a Sword,

1146Who weares no honesty: such smiling rogues as these,

1147Like Rats oft bite the holy cords a twaine,

1148Which are t'intrince, t'vnloose: smooth euery passion

1149That in the natures of their Lords rebell,

1150Being oile to fire, snow to the colder moodes,

1151Reuenge, affirme, and turne their Halcion beakes

1152With euery gall, and varry of their Masters,

1153Knowing naught (like dogges) but following:

1154A plague vpon your Epilepticke visage,

1155Smoile you my speeches, as I were a Foole?

1156Goose, if I had you vpon Sarum Plaine,

1157I'ld driue ye cackling home to Camelot.

1158Corn. What art thou mad old Fellow?

1159Glost. How fell you out, say that?

1160Kent. No contraries hold more antipathy,

1161Then I, and such a knaue.

1162Corn. Why do'st thou call him Knaue?

1163What is his fault?

1164Kent. His countenance likes me not.

1165Cor. No more perchance do's mine, nor his, nor hers.

1166Kent. Sir, 'tis my occupation to be plaine,

1167I haue seene better faces in my time,

1168Then stands on any shoulder that I see

1169Before me, at this instant.

1170Corn. This is some Fellow,

1171Who hauing beene prais'd for bluntnesse, doth affect

1172A saucy roughnes, and constraines the garb

1173Quite from his Nature. He cannot flatter he,

1174An honest mind and plaine, he must speake truth,

1175And they will take it so, if not, hee's plaine.

1176These kind of Knaues I know, which in this plainnesse

1177Harbour more craft, and more corrupter ends,

1178Then twenty silly-ducking obseruants,

1179That stretch their duties nicely.

1180Kent. Sir, in good faith, in sincere verity,

1181Vnder th'allowance of your great aspect,

1182Whose influence like the wreath of radient fire

1183On flicking Phoebus front.

1184Corn. What mean'st by this?

1185Kent. To go out of my dialect, which you discom-

1186mend so much; I know Sir, I am no flatterer, he that be-

1187guild you in a plaine accent, was a plaine Knaue, which

1188for my part I will not be, though I should win your

1189displeasure to entreat me too't.

1190Corn. What was th'offence you gaue him?

1191Ste. I neuer gaue him any:

1192It pleas'd the King his Master very late

1193To strike at me vpon his misconstruction,

1194When he compact, and flattering his displeasure

1195Tript me behind: being downe, insulted, rail'd,

1196And put vpon him such a deale of Man,

1197That worthied him, got praises of the King,

1198For him attempting, who was selfe-subdued,

1199And in the fleshment of this dead exploit,

1200Drew on me here againe.

1201Kent. None of these Rogues, and Cowards

1202But Aiax is there Foole.

1203Corn. Fetch forth the Stocks?

1204You stubborne ancient Knaue, you reuerent Bragart,

1205Wee'l teach you.

1206Kent. Sir, I am too old to learne:

1207Call not your Stocks for me, I serue the King.

1208On whose imployment I was sent to you,

1209You shall doe small respects, show too bold malice

1210Against the Grace, and Person of my Master,

1211Stocking his Messenger.

1212Corn. Fetch forth the Stocks;

1213As I haue life and Honour, there shall he sit till Noone.

1214Reg. Till noone? till night my Lord, and all night too.

1215Kent. Why Madam, if I were your Fathers dog,

1216You should not vse me so.

1217Reg. Sir, being his Knaue, I will. Stocks brought out.

1218Cor. This is a Fellow of the selfe same colour,

1219Our Sister speakes of. Come, bring away the Stocks.

1220Glo. Let me beseech your Grace, not to do so,

1221The King his Master, needs must take it ill

1222That he so slightly valued in his Messenger,

1223Should haue him thus restrained.

1224Cor. Ile answere that.

1225Reg. My Sister may recieue it much more worsse,

1226To haue her Gentleman abus'd, assaulted.

1227Corn. Come my Lord, away. Exit.

1228Glo. I am sorry for thee friend, 'tis the Duke pleasure,

1229Whose disposition all the world well knowes

1230Will not be rub'd nor stopt, Ile entreat for thee .

1231Kent. Pray do not Sir, I haue watch'd and trauail'd hard,

1232Some time I shall sleepe out, the rest Ile whistle:

1233A good mans fortune may grow out at heeles: