Corn. What was the offence you gave him?
Osw. I never gave him any:
It pleas'd the king his master very late
To strike at me, upon his misconstruction; 124
When he, conjunct, and flattering his displeasure,
Tripp'd me behind; being down, insulted, rail'd,
And put upon him such a deal of man,
That worthied him, got praises of the king 128
For him attempting who was self-subdu'd;
And, in the fleshment of this dread exploit,
Drew on me here again.
Kent. None of these rogues and cowards
But Ajax is their fool.
Corn. Fetch forth the stocks! 132
You stubborn ancient knave, you reverend braggart,
We'll teach you.
Kent. Sir, I am too old to learn.
Call not your stocks for me; I serve the king,
On whose employment I was sent to you; 136
You shall do small respect, show too bold malice
Against the grace and person of my master,
Stocking his messenger.
Corn. Fetch forth the stocks! As I have life and honour, 140
There shall he sit till noon.
Reg. Till noon! Till night, my lord; and all night too.
Kent. Why, madam, if I were your father's dog,
You should not use me so.
Reg. Sir, being his knave, I will. 144
Corn. This is a fellow of the self-same colour
Our sister speaks of. Come, bring away the stocks.
125 conjunct: in league
128 worthied: covered with dignity
130 fleshment: first taste
132 Ajax; cf. n.
146 away: hither; cf. n.
