Corn. Thou art a strange fellow: a tailor make a man?[3199][3201]
Kent. Ay, a tailor, sir: a stone-cutter or a painter[3202]
could not have made him so ill, though he had been but[3203]
two hours at the trade.[3204] 55
Corn. Speak yet, how grew your quarrel?[3205]
Osw. This ancient ruffian, sir, whose life I have spared[3206]
at suit of his gray beard,—[3207]
Kent. Thou whoreson zed! thou unnecessary letter![3208]
My lord, if you will give me leave, I will tread this unbolted[3209] 60
villain into mortar, and daub the walls of a jakes[3210]
with him. Spare my gray beard, you wagtail?[3211]
Corn. Peace, sirrah![3212][3213]
You beastly knave, know you no reverence?[3212][3214]
Kent. Yes, sir; but anger hath a privilege.[3215] 65
Corn. Why art thou angry?
Kent. That such a slave as this should wear a sword,
Who wears no honesty. Such smiling rogues as these,[3216]
Like rats, oft bite the holy cords a-twain[3217]
Which are too intrinse to unloose; smooth every passion[3218] 70
That in the natures of their lords rebel;[3219]
Bring oil to fire, snow to their colder moods;[3220]
Renege, affirm, and turn their halcyon beaks[3221]
With every gale and vary of their masters,[3222]
Knowing nought, like dogs, but following.[3223][3224] 75
A plague upon your epileptic visage![3223]
Smile you my speeches, as I were a fool?[3223][3225]
Goose, if I had you upon Sarum plain,[3226]
I'ld drive ye cackling home to Camelot.[3227]
Corn. What, art thou mad, old fellow?[3228] 80