Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Foole. my peace. I had rather be any kind o'thing then a foole,
Foole. and yet I would not be thee Nunckle, thou hast pared thy
Foole. wit o'both sides, and left nothing i'th' middle; here
Foole. comes one o'the parings.
Foole. Enter Gonerill.
Lear. Lear.
Lear. How now Daughter? what makes that Frontlet
Lear. on? You are too much of late i'th' frowne.
Foole. Foole.
Foole. Thou wast a pretty fellow when thou hadst no
Foole. need to care for her frowning, now thou art an O without
Foole. a figure, I am better then thou art now, I am a Foole,
Foole. thou art nothing. Yes forsooth I will hold my tongue, so
Foole. your face bids me, though you say nothing.
Foole. Mum, mum, he that keepes nor crust, nor crum,
Foole. Weary of all, shall want some. That's a sheal'd Pescod.
Gon. Gon.
Gon. Not only Sir this, your all‐lycenc'd Foole,
Gon. But other of your insolent retinue
Gon. Do hourely Carpe and Quarrell, breaking forth