No Fear Shakespeare
King Lear
Act 2, Scene 2
Original Text | Modern Text | |
Enter KENT disguised and OSWALD the steward, severally |
KENT enters in disguise. OSWALD enters from elsewhere. | |
|
OSWALD
Good dawning to thee, friend. Art of this house?
|
OSWALD
Good morning to you, friend. Do you work in this house?
| |
|
KENT
Ay.
|
KENT
Yes, I do.
| |
|
OSWALD
Where may we set our horses?
|
OSWALD
Where should we stable our horses?
| |
|
KENT
I' th' mire.
|
KENT
In the mud.
| |
5 |
OSWALD
Prithee, if thou lovest me, tell me.
|
OSWALD
Please, sir, be kind to me and tell me.
|
|
KENT
I love thee not.
|
KENT
I won’t be kind to you.
| |
|
OSWALD
Why, then, I care not for thee.
|
OSWALD
In that case, I don’t much care for you either.
| |
|
KENT
If I had thee in Lipsbury pinfold, I would make thee care
for me.
|
KENT
If I could get my hands on you, I’d make you care.
| |
10 |
OSWALD
Why dost thou use me thus? I know thee not.
|
OSWALD
Why are you talking to me like this? I don’t even know you.
|
|
KENT
Fellow, I know thee.
|
KENT
Ah, but I know you.
| |
|
OSWALD
What dost thou know me for?
|
OSWALD
Who am I then?
| |
|
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 knave;
a 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, pander, 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.
|
KENT
You’re a lowlife, a rascal who eats leftover scraps. You’re an ignoble, arrogant, shallow, vulgar, pretentious, conceited, filthy third-rate servant who thinks he’s something special. You’re a cowardly lawyer-loving bastard; a vain, brown-nosing, prissy scoundrel who’d pimp himself out to advance his career; a bag lady. You’re nothing but a lowlife, a beggar, a coward, and a pimp, the son and heir of a mutt bitch. I’ll beat you until you whine and cry if you deny the least bit of this.
|





