Datasets:
ariondas
/
full_text_dataset

Dataset card Data Studio Files
xet
Community
2
text
stringlengths
0
1.91k
Foole. Let me hire him too, here's my Coxcombe
Lear. How now my pretty knaue, how dost thou?
Foole. Sirrah, you were best take my Coxcombe
Lear. Why my Boy?
Foole. Why? for taking ones part that's out of fauour,
nay, & thou canst not smile as the wind sits, thou'lt catch
colde shortly, there take my Coxcombe; why this fellow
ha's banish'd two on's Daughters, and did the third a
blessing against his will, if thou follow him, thou must
needs weare my Coxcombe. How now Nunckle? would
I had two Coxcombes and two Daughters
Lear. Why my Boy?
Fool. If I gaue them all my liuing, I'ld keepe my Coxcombes
my selfe, there's mine, beg another of thy
Daughters
Lear. Take heed Sirrah, the whip
Foole. Truth's a dog must to kennell, hee must bee
whipt out, when the Lady Brach may stand by'th' fire
and stinke
Lear. A pestilent gall to me
Foole. Sirha, Ile teach thee a speech
Lear. Do
Foole. Marke it Nuncle;
Haue more then thou showest,
Speake lesse then thou knowest,
Lend lesse then thou owest,
Ride more then thou goest,
Learne more then thou trowest,
Set lesse then thou throwest;
Leaue thy drinke and thy whore,
And keepe in a dore,
And thou shalt haue more,
Then two tens to a score
Kent. This is nothing Foole
Foole. Then 'tis like the breath of an vnfeed Lawyer,
you gaue me nothing for't, can you make no vse of nothing
Nuncle?
Lear. Why no Boy,
Nothing can be made out of nothing
Foole. Prythee tell him, so much the rent of his land
comes to, he will not beleeue a Foole
Lear. A bitter Foole
Foole. Do'st thou know the difference my Boy, betweene
a bitter Foole, and a sweet one
Lear. No Lad, teach me
Foole. Nunckle, giue me an egge, and Ile giue thee
two Crownes
Lear. What two Crownes shall they be?
Foole. Why after I haue cut the egge i'th' middle and
eate vp the meate, the two Crownes of the egge: when
thou clouest thy Crownes i'th' middle, and gau'st away
both parts, thou boar'st thine Asse on thy backe o're the
durt, thou hadst little wit in thy bald crowne, when thou
gau'st thy golden one away; if I speake like my selfe in
this, let him be whipt that first findes it so.
Fooles had nere lesse grace in a yeere,
For wisemen are growne foppish,
And know not how their wits to weare,
Their manners are so apish
Le. When were you wont to be so full of Songs sirrah?
Foole. I haue vsed it Nunckle, ere since thou mad'st
thy Daughters thy Mothers, for when thou gau'st them
the rod, and put'st downe thine owne breeches, then they
For sodaine ioy did weepe,
And I for sorrow sung,
That such a King should play bo-peepe,
And goe the Foole among.
Pry'thy Nunckle keepe a Schoolemaster that can teach
thy Foole to lie, I would faine learne to lie
Lear. And you lie sirrah, wee'l haue you whipt
Foole. I maruell what kin thou and thy daughters are,
they'l haue me whipt for speaking true: thou'lt haue me
whipt for lying, and sometimes I am whipt for holding
my peace. I had rather be any kind o' thing then a foole,
and yet I would not be thee Nunckle, thou hast pared thy
wit o' both sides, and left nothing i'th' middle; heere
comes one o'the parings.
Enter Gonerill.