Page 1804 - Shakespeare - Vol. 3

And I for sorrow sung,
That such a king should play bo-peep, [170]
And go the fools among.
Prithee, Nuncle, keep a schoolmaster that can

teach thy Fool to lie: I would fain learn to lie.

LEAR
And you lie, sirrah, we’ll have you whipp’d.

FOOL
I marvel what kin thou and thy daughters are: they’ll [175] have me whipp’d
for speaking true, thou’lt have me whipp’d for lying; and sometimes I am
whipp’d for holding my peace. I had rather be any kind o’thing than a fool;

and yet I would not be thee, Nuncle; thou hast pared thy wit o’both sides,
and left nothing i’th’middle: here comes one [180] o’the parings.

Enter Goneril.

LEAR
How now, daughter! what makes that frontlet on? You are too much of late
i’th’frown.

FOOL

Thou wast a pretty fellow when thou hadst no need to care for her frowning;
now thou art an 0 without a [185] figure. I am better than thou art now; I am
a Fool, thou art nothing. (To Goneril.) Yes, forsooth, I will hold my tongue; so
your face bids me, though you say nothing.
Mum, Mum:

He that keeps nor crust nor crumb, [190]
Weary of all, shall want some.
That’s a sheal’d peascod.

(Pointing to Lear.)

GONERIL

Not only, Sir, this your all-licens’d Fool,
But other of your insolent retinue
Do hourly carp and quarrel, breaking forth [195]
In rank and not-to-be-endured riots. Sir,