What makes that
frontlet
on?
Shakespeare
I have us'd it, nuncle, ever since thou mad'st thy daughters
thy mother; for when thou gav'st them the rod, and put'st down
thine own breeches,
[Sings] Then they for sudden joy did weep,
And I for sorrow sung,
That such a king should play bo-peep
And go the fools among.
Prithee, nuncle, keep a schoolmaster that can teach thy fool to
lie. I would fain learn to lie.
Lear. An you lie, sirrah, we'll have you whipp'd.
Fool. I marvel what kin thou and thy daughters are. They'll have me
whipp'd for speaking true; thou'lt have me whipp'd for lying;
and sometimes I am whipp'd for holding my peace. I had rather be
any kind o' thing than a fool! And yet I would not be thee,
nuncle. Thou hast pared thy wit o' both sides and left nothing
i' th' middle. Here comes one o' the parings.
Enter Goneril.
Lear. How now, daughter?
What makes that frontlet on? Methinks you
are too much o' late i' th' frown.
Fool. Thou wast a pretty fellow when thou hadst no need to care for
her frowning. Now thou art an O without a figure. I am better
than thou art now: I am a fool, thou art nothing.
[To Goneril] Yes, forsooth, I will hold my tongue. So your face
bids me, though you say nothing. Mum, mum!
He that keeps nor crust nor crum,
Weary of all, shall want some. -
[Points at Lear] That's a sheal'd peascod.
Gon. Not only, sir, this your all-licens'd fool,
But other of your insolent retinue
Do hourly carp and quarrel, breaking forth
In rank and not-to-be-endured riots. Sir,
I had thought, by making this well known unto you,
To have found a safe redress, but now grow fearful,
By what yourself, too, late have spoke and done,
That you protect this course, and put it on
By your allowance; which if you should, the fault
Would not scape censure, nor the redresses sleep,
Which, in the tender of a wholesome weal,
Might in their working do you that offence
Which else were shame, that then necessity
Must call discreet proceeding.
Fool. For you know, nuncle,
The hedge-sparrow fed the cuckoo so long
That it had it head bit off by it young.
thy mother; for when thou gav'st them the rod, and put'st down
thine own breeches,
[Sings] Then they for sudden joy did weep,
And I for sorrow sung,
That such a king should play bo-peep
And go the fools among.
Prithee, nuncle, keep a schoolmaster that can teach thy fool to
lie. I would fain learn to lie.
Lear. An you lie, sirrah, we'll have you whipp'd.
Fool. I marvel what kin thou and thy daughters are. They'll have me
whipp'd for speaking true; thou'lt have me whipp'd for lying;
and sometimes I am whipp'd for holding my peace. I had rather be
any kind o' thing than a fool! And yet I would not be thee,
nuncle. Thou hast pared thy wit o' both sides and left nothing
i' th' middle. Here comes one o' the parings.
Enter Goneril.
Lear. How now, daughter?
What makes that frontlet on? Methinks you
are too much o' late i' th' frown.
Fool. Thou wast a pretty fellow when thou hadst no need to care for
her frowning. Now thou art an O without a figure. I am better
than thou art now: I am a fool, thou art nothing.
[To Goneril] Yes, forsooth, I will hold my tongue. So your face
bids me, though you say nothing. Mum, mum!
He that keeps nor crust nor crum,
Weary of all, shall want some. -
[Points at Lear] That's a sheal'd peascod.
Gon. Not only, sir, this your all-licens'd fool,
But other of your insolent retinue
Do hourly carp and quarrel, breaking forth
In rank and not-to-be-endured riots. Sir,
I had thought, by making this well known unto you,
To have found a safe redress, but now grow fearful,
By what yourself, too, late have spoke and done,
That you protect this course, and put it on
By your allowance; which if you should, the fault
Would not scape censure, nor the redresses sleep,
Which, in the tender of a wholesome weal,
Might in their working do you that offence
Which else were shame, that then necessity
Must call discreet proceeding.
Fool. For you know, nuncle,
The hedge-sparrow fed the cuckoo so long
That it had it head bit off by it young.
