KENT.I thank you, sir: you speak it like a gentleman;Your flattery secures me in the king's good graces,Where else should I expect such a gentle welcome?But do I stand in any fear of your reportBefore the King and his good officers?I do not, sir.
GENTLEMAN.Sir, you mistake your birth:You are the son of the duke's own sister,His only sister; who most gladly gave herself,Her dukedom, and her dowry to the King,To do your grace and service to his crown.But you, indeed, on equal terms,Would to your brother's sister do this wrong?This gentle gentleman, this youth, this lady's son,This sweet young boy, this hart of his own heart.You shall do small respect: you shall not show bold malice:You do your brother's will: you shall not do your own. The King is not your friend; your brother's royal master:Whom to oppose were to incur your dukedom's confiscation,And the forfeiture of your sister's dowry;So that she, poor lady,Should not be able to add a jointure to the king's crown.The king is your friend, I say: so learn to show yourself his friend,Or you shall the king displeas'd be,Whose royal highness and unbounded fury,Not bating at the danger of your head,Will burst like thunder from a blue,I do affirm your grace.
GENTLEMAN.What, you are bold, be sure you are not proud,You have some hope the king will clear your father's title:I tell you, no. Your father has put it in his power to do it,And hath done it already; made full satisfaction,Satisfaction full and complete:I speak not this, I tell you, for justifying his offence, 827ec27edc