Kent.
All the power of his wits have given way to his impatience:--
the gods reward your kindness!

[Exit Gloster.]

Edg.
Frateretto calls me; and tells me Nero is an angler in the lake
of darkness.--Pray, innocent, and beware the foul fiend.

Fool.
Pr'ythee, nuncle, tell me whether a madman be a gentleman or a
yeoman.

Lear.
A king, a king!

Fool.
No, he's a yeoman that has a gentleman to his son; for he's a mad
yeoman that sees his son a gentleman before him.

Lear.
To have a thousand with red burning spits
Come hissing in upon 'em,--

Edg.
The foul fiend bites my back.

Fool.
He's mad that trusts in the tameness of a wolf, a horse's health,