To tak't again
perforce!
Shakespeare
Fool. Why, to put's head in; not to give it away to his daughters,
and leave his horns without a case.
Lear. I will forget my nature. So kind a father! - Be my horses
ready?
Fool. Thy asses are gone about 'em. The reason why the seven stars
are no moe than seven is a pretty reason.
Lear. Because they are not eight?
Fool. Yes indeed. Thou wouldst make a good fool.
Lear.
To tak't again perforce! Monster ingratitude!
Fool. If thou wert my fool, nuncle, I'ld have thee beaten for being
old before thy time.
Lear. How's that?
Fool. Thou shouldst not have been old till thou hadst been wise.
Lear. O, let me not be mad, not mad, sweet heaven!
Keep me in temper; I would not be mad!
[Enter a Gentleman. ]
How now? Are the horses ready?
Gent. Ready, my lord.
