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.
Pr'ythee, 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, 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.
