875Lear. Goe you before to
Gloster with the
se letters,
¶acquaint
my daughter no further with any thing you
¶know, then comes
from her demand out of the letter,
¶if your diligence be not
spee-
die, I
shall be there before
¶you.
880Kent. I will not
sleepe my Lord, till I haue deliuered
¶your
letter.
¶Foole. If a mans braines where in his heeles, wert not in
¶dan-
ger of kibes?
885Foole. Then I prethe be mery, thy wit
shal nere goe
¶slip
shod.
¶Foole. Shalt
see thy other daughter will v
se thee kind
¶ly, for
though
shees as like this, as a crab is like an
890apple, yet I con, what
I can tel.
¶Lear. Why what can
st thou tell my boy?
¶Foole. Sheel ta
st as like this, as a crab doth to a
¶crab, thou
can
st not tell why ones no
se
stande in the middle
¶of his face?
¶Foole. Why, to keep his eyes on either
side's no
se,
¶that what
a man cannot smell out, a may spie into.
¶Foole. Can
st tell how an Oy
ster makes his
shell.
900Lear. No.
¶Foole. Nor I neither, but I can tell why a
snayle has
¶a hou
se.
¶Foole. Why, to put his head in, not to giue it away to his
905daughter, and leaue his hornes without a ca
se.
¶Lear. I will forget my nature,
so kind a father; be
¶my hor
ses
readie?
¶Foole. Thy A
sses are gone about them, the rea
son why
¶the
seuen starres are no more then seuen, is a prettie reason.
910Lear. Becau
se they are not eight.
¶Foole. Yes thou would
st make a good foole.
¶Lear. To tak't againe perforce, Mon
ster, ingratitude!
¶Fool. If thou wert my foole Nunckle, id'e haue thee
¶beatẽ for
being old before thy time.
¶Foole. Thou
should
st not haue beene old, before thou had
st
¶Lear. O let me not be mad
sweet heauen! I would not be mad,
¶keepe me in temper, I would not be mad, are
920the hor
ses readie?
¶Seruant. Readie my Lord.
Lear. Come boy.
Exit.
¶Foole. Shee that is maide now, and laughs at my departure,
¶Shall not be a maide long, except things be cut
shorter.
