Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Foole. And know not how their wits to weare,
Foole. Their manners are so apish.
Le. Le.
Le. When were you wont to be so full of Songs sirrah?
Foole. Foole.
Foole. I haue vsed it Nunckle, ere since thou mad'st
Foole. thy Daughters thy Mothers, for when thou gau'st them
Foole. the rod, and put'st downe thine owne breeches, then they
Foole. For sodaine ioy did weepe,
Foole. And I for sorrow sung,
Foole. That such a King should play bo‐peepe,
Foole. And goe the Foole among.
Foole. Pry'thy Nunckle keepe a Schoolemaster that can teach
Foole. thy Foole to lie, I would faine learne to lie.
Lear. Lear.
Lear. And you lie sirrah, wee'l haue you whipt.
Foole. I maruell what kin thou and thy daughters are,
Foole. they'l haue me whipt for speaking true: thou'lt haue me
Foole. whipt for lying, and sometimes I am whipt for holding