Election Day is November 3rd! Make sure your voice is heard
No Fear Act 2 Scene 2
No Fear Act 2 Scene 2 Page 3

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GLOUCESTER

Weapons, arms? What’s the matter here?

GLOUCESTER

You have weapons? What’s going on here?

CORNWALL

Keep peace, upon your lives.
He dies that strikes again. What is the matter?

CORNWALL

Stop it, I order you. The next person to strike again dies. What’s going on here?

REGAN

45The messengers from our sister and the king.

REGAN

These are the messengers from my sister and the king.

CORNWALL

What is your difference? Speak.

CORNWALL

What are you fighting about? Tell me.

OSWALD

I am scarce in breath, my lord.

OSWALD

I’m out of breath, sir.

KENT

No marvel, you have so bestirred your valor. You cowardly rascal, nature disclaims in thee. A tailor made thee.

KENT

No wonder, with all your exertions, you cowardly rascal. You’re not worth being called a man. The only thing manly about you are your clothes. A tailor made you.

CORNWALL

50Thou art a strange fellow. A tailor make a man?

CORNWALL

That’s an odd thing to say. How can a tailor make a person?

KENT

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.

KENT

Definitely a tailor, sir. A sculptor or a painter couldn’t have screwed him up as bad as that, even as an apprentice.

CORNWALL

Speak yet. How grew your quarrel?

CORNWALL

But tell me what you’re fighting about.

OSWALD

55This ancient ruffian, sir, whose life I have spared at suit of his gray beard—

OSWALD

This old ruffian here, whom I didn’t kill because he’s so old—

KENT

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?

KENT

You useless bastard—you’re like the letter “z,” a totally unnecessary addition to the alphabet.—My lord, please let me grind this lumpy lowlife into a powder and use it to plaster up the bathroom walls.—You didn’t kill me because I’m so old, you fawning dog?

CORNWALL

Peace, sirrah!
You beastly knave, know you no reverence?

CORNWALL

Calm down. Don’t you have any manners, you savage?

KENT

Yes, sir, but anger hath a privilege.

KENT

Yes, sir, but not when I’m enraged.