What mean'st by this?

Kent.
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.

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;
When he, compact, 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
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!--
You stubborn ancient knave, you reverent braggart,