's my gauntlet.
I'll prove it on a giant.
Give the word.
- Sweet marjoram.
- Pass.
Ha! Goneril!
With a white beard!
They flattered me like a dog,
and told me I had white hairs
in my beard here.
To say 'ay' and 'no' to every
thing that I said!
There I smelt 'em out.
They are not men of their words.
They told me I was every thing.
Tis a lie. I'm not ague-proof.
Is't not the king?
Ay, every inch a king!
When I do stare,
see how the subject quakes!
I pardon that man's life.
What was thy cause? Adultery?
Die for adultery? No!
Let copulation thrive,
for I lack soldiers.
Give me an ounce of civet,
good apothecary,
to sweeten my imagination.
There's money for thee.
O, let me kiss that hand!
Let me wipe it first.
It smells of mortality.
Dost thou know me?
I remember thine eyes well enough.
Dost thou squiny at me?
Read thou this challenge.
Mark but the penning on't.
Were all the letters suns,
I could not see one.
- Read.
- What, with the case of eyes?
What, art mad?
A man may see how this world
goes with no eyes.
Look with thine ears.
See how yond justice rails
upon yond simple thief?
Hark, in thine ear:
Change places, and, handy-dandy,
which is the justice,
which is the thief?
Through tattered clothes
small vices do appear,
robes and furred gowns hide all.
Plate sin with gold, and the strong
lance ofjustice hurtless breaks.
Arm it in rags,
a pigmy's straw does pierce it.
None does offend, none.
I say, none!
I'll able 'em, take that of me
who have the power
to seal the accuser's lips.
Get thee glass eyes,
and, like a scurvy politician,
seem to see the things thou dost not.
Pull off my boots.
Harder, harder.
I know thee well enough.
Thy name is Gloster.
Thou must be patient.
We came crying hither,
the first time
that we smell the air,
we wawl and cry.
I will preach to thee:
Mark.
Alack, alack the day!
When we are born, we cry that we are
come to this great stage of fools.
It were a delicate stratagem
to shoe a troop of horse
with felt,
and when I have stolen
upon these sons-in-law,
then, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill!
Sir, your most dear daughter...
No rescue?
Use me well,
you shall have ransom.
Let me have a surgeon.
I am cut to the brains.
You shall have any thing.
No seconds? All myself?
Good sir...
I will die bravely, like a smug
bridegroom.
I will be jovial. Come, come.
I am a king.
My masters, know you that.
You are a royal one,
and we obey you.
Then there's life in it.
Nay, an you get it,
you shall get it by running.
Thou old unhappy traitor!
The sword is out
that must destroy thee!
Now let thy friendly hand
put strength enough to it.
Let go, slave!
Out, dunghill!
Take my purse.
Give the letter which thou find'st
about me to Edmund earl of Gloster.
Seek him out upon the English party.
What, is he dead?
I'm only sorry he had no other
death's-man.
<



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