[Stage] Enter Kent disguised and Oswald the steward, severally
Oswald(奥斯瓦尔德)
Good dawning to thee, friend. Art of this house?
Kent(肯特)
Ay.
Oswald(奥斯瓦尔德)
Where may we set our horses?
Kent(肯特)
I’ th’ mire.
Oswald(奥斯瓦尔德)
Prithee, if thou lovest me, tell me.
Kent(肯特)
I love thee not.
Oswald(奥斯瓦尔德)
Why, then, I care not for thee.
Kent(肯特)
If I had thee in Lipsbury pinfold, I would make thee
care for me.
Oswald(奥斯瓦尔德)
Why dost thou use me thus? I know thee not.
Kent(肯特)
Fellow, I know thee.
Oswald(奥斯瓦尔德)
What dost thou know me for?
Kent(肯特)
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.
Oswald(奥斯瓦尔德)
Why, what a monstrous fellow art thou, thus to rail on
one that is neither known of thee nor knows thee!
Kent(肯特)
What a brazen-faced varlet art thou to deny thou
knowest me! Is it two days ago since I tripped up thy
heels and beat thee before the king? Draw, you rogue,
for though it be night yet the moon shines.
I’ll make a
sop o’ th’ moonshine of you.
[draws his sword]
Draw, you
whoreson cullionly barber-monger, draw!
Oswald(奥斯瓦尔德)
Away! I have nothing to do with thee.
Kent(肯特)
Draw, you rascal. You come with letters against the
king and take Vanity the puppet’s part against the
royalty of her father.
Draw, you rogue, or I’ll so
carbonado your shanks. Draw, you rascal! Come your ways.
Oswald(奥斯瓦尔德)
Help, ho! Murder! Help!
Kent(肯特)
Strike, you slave. Stand, rogue. Stand, you neat
slave, strike! [strikes Oswald]
Oswald(奥斯瓦尔德)
Help, ho! Murder, murder!
[Stage] Enter Edmund the bastard with his rapier drawn, the Duke of Cornwall, the Duchess Regan, Gloucester, and servants
Edmund(爱德蒙)
How now? What’s the matter? Part.
Kent(肯特)
[to Edmund] With you, goodman boy, if you please. Come,
I’ll flesh ye. Come on, young master.
Gloucester(格洛斯特)
Weapons, arms? What’s the matter here?
Cornwall(康沃尔)
Keep peace, upon your lives.
He dies that strikes again. What is the matter?
Regan(里根)
The messengers from our sister and the king.
Cornwall(康沃尔)
What is your difference? Speak.
Oswald(奥斯瓦尔德)
I am scarce in breath, my lord.
Kent(肯特)
No marvel, you have so bestirred your valor. You
cowardly rascal, nature disclaims in thee. A tailor made
thee.
Cornwall(康沃尔)
Thou art a strange fellow. A tailor make a man?
Kent(肯特)
Ay, a tailor, sir. A stone-cutter or painter could not
have made him so ill though they had been but two years
o’ th’ trade.
Cornwall(康沃尔)
Speak yet. How grew your quarrel?
Oswald(奥斯瓦尔德)
This ancient ruffian, sir, whose life I have spared at
suit of his gray beard—
Kent(肯特)
Thou whoreson zed, thou unnecessary letter!—My lord, if
you will give me leave, I will tread this unbolted
villain into mortar and daub the wall of a jakes with
him.—Spare my gray beard, you wagtail?
Cornwall(康沃尔)
Peace, sirrah!
You beastly knave, know you no reverence?
Kent(肯特)
Yes, sir, but anger hath a privilege.
Cornwall(康沃尔)
Why art thou angry?
Kent(肯特)
That such a slave as this should wear a sword,
Who wears no honesty. Such smiling rogues as these,
Like rats, oft bite the holy cords atwain
Which are too intrinse t’ unloose,
smooth every passion
That in the natures of their lords rebel,
Bring oil to fire, snow to the colder moods;
Renege, affirm, and turn their halcyon beaks
With every gale and vary of their masters,
Knowing naught, like dogs, but following.—
A plague upon your epileptic visage!
Smile you my speeches as I were a fool?
Goose, an I had you upon Sarum plain,
I’d drive ye cackling home to Camelot.
Cornwall(康沃尔)
Why, art thou mad, old fellow?
Gloucester(格洛斯特)
[to Kent] How fell you out?
Say that.
Kent(肯特)
No contraries hold more antipathy
Than I and such a knave.
Cornwall(康沃尔)
Why dost thou call him “knave?” What’s his offense?
Kent(肯特)
His countenance likes me not.
Cornwall(康沃尔)
No more perchance does mine, nor his, nor hers.
Kent(肯特)
Sir, ’tis my occupation to be plain.
I have seen better faces in my time
Than stands on any shoulder that I see
Before me at this instant.
Cornwall(康沃尔)
This is some fellow,
Who, having been praised for bluntness, doth affect
A saucy roughness and constrains the garb
Quite from his nature. He cannot flatter, he.
An honest mind and plain, he must speak truth.
An they will take it, so. If not, he’s plain.
These kind of knaves I know, which in this plainness
Harbor more craft and more corrupter ends
Than twenty silly-ducking observants
That stretch their duties nicely.
Kent(肯特)
Sir, in good faith, or in sincere verity,
Under th’ allowance of your great aspect,
Whose influence, like the wreath of radiant fire
On flickering Phoebus’ front—
Cornwall(康沃尔)
What mean’st by this?
Kent(肯特)
To go out of my dialect, which you discommend so much.
I know, sir, I am no flatterer.
He that beguiled you in
a plain accent was a plain knave, which for my part I
will not be, though I should win your displeasure to
entreat me to ’t.
Cornwall(康沃尔)
[to Oswald] What was th’ offense you gave him?
Oswald(奥斯瓦尔德)
I never gave him any.
It pleased the king his master very late
To strike at me upon his misconstruction
When he, conjunct and flattering his displeasure,
Tripped me behind;
being down, insulted, railed,
And put upon him such a deal of man
That worthied him, got praises of the king
For him attempting who was self-subdued.
And in the fleshment of this dread exploit
Drew on me here again.
Kent(肯特)
None of these rogues and cowards
But Ajax is their fool.
Cornwall(康沃尔)
Fetch forth the stocks, ho!—
You stubborn ancient knave, you reverend braggart,
We’ll teach you.
Kent(肯特)
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.
You shall do small respect, show too bold malice
Against the grace and person of my master,
Stocking his messenger.
Cornwall(康沃尔)
Fetch forth the stocks!
As I have life and honor, there shall he sit till noon.
Regan(里根)
Till noon? Till night, my lord, and all night too.
Kent(肯特)
Why, madam, if I were your father’s dog,
You should not use me so.
Regan(里根)
Sir, being his knave, I will.
Cornwall(康沃尔)
This is a fellow of the selfsame color
Our sister speaks of.—Come, bring away the stocks!
[Stage] Stocks brought out
Gloucester(格洛斯特)
Let me beseech your grace not to do so.
His fault is much, and the good king his master
Will check him for ’t.
Your purposed low correction
Is such as basest and contemned’st wretches
For pilferings and most common trespasses
Are punished with.
The king his master needs must take it ill,
That he, so slightly valued in his messenger,
Should have him thus restrained.
Cornwall(康沃尔)
I’ll answer that.
Regan(里根)
My sister may receive it much more worse
To have her gentleman abused, assaulted
For following her affairs.—Put in his legs.
[Stage] Kent is put in the stocks
Cornwall(康沃尔)
[to Gloucester ] Come, my good lord, away.
[Stage] Exeunt all but Gloucester and Kent
Gloucester(格洛斯特)
I am sorry for thee, friend. ‘Tis the duke’s pleasure,
Whose disposition, all the world well knows,
Will not be rubbed nor stopped. I’ll entreat for thee.
Kent(肯特)
Pray you do not, sir. I have watched and traveled hard.
Some time I shall sleep out. The rest I’ll whistle.
A good man’s fortune may grow out at heels.
Give you good morrow.
Gloucester(格洛斯特)
The duke’s to blame in this. ‘Twill be ill taken.
[Stage] Exit Gloucester
Kent(肯特)
Good King, that must approve the common saw,
Thou out of heaven’s benediction comest
To the warm sun.
[takes out a letter]
Approach, thou beacon to this underglobe,
That by thy comfortable beams I may
Peruse this letter. Nothing almost sees miracles
But misery.
I know ’tis from Cordelia,
Who hath most fortunately been informed
Of my obscurèd course and
[reads the letter]
“shall find time From this enormous state, seeking to give
Losses their remedies.” All weary and o’erwatched,
Take vantage, heavy eyes, not to behold
This shameful lodging.
Fortune, good night. Smile once more. Turn thy wheel.
[sleeps]