2. Scene II. Before Gloster's Castle.
[Enter Kent and Oswald, severally.]
Good dawning to thee, friend: art of this house?
Where may we set our horses?
I' the mire.
Pr'ythee, if thou lov'st me, tell me.
I love thee not.
Why then, I care not for thee.
If I had thee in Lipsbury pinfold, I 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, whoreson,
glass-gazing, superserviceable, 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, pander, and the son and heir of a mongrel
bitch: one whom I will beat into clamorous whining, if thou
denyest the least syllable of thy addition.
Why, what a monstrous fellow art thou, thus to rail on one that's
neither known of thee nor knows thee?
What a brazen-faced varlet art thou, to deny thou knowest me! Is
it two days ago since I beat thee and tripped up thy heels 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 barbermonger, draw!
[Drawing his sword.]
Away! I have nothing to do with thee.