Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Lear. I will forget my Nature, so kind a Father? Be
Lear. my Horsses ready?
Foole. Foole.
Foole. Thy Asses are gone about 'em; the reason why
Foole. the seuen Starres are no mo then seuen, is a pretty reason.
Lear. Lear.
Lear. Because they are not eight.
Foole. Yes indeed, thou would'st make a good Foole.
Lear. To tak't againe perforce; Monster Ingratitude!
Foole. If thou wert my Foole Nunckle, Il'd haue thee
Foole. beaten for being old before thy time.
Lear. How's that?
Foole. Thou shouldst not haue bin old, till thou hadst
Foole. bin wise.