« PreviousContinue »
To shut me out!-Pour on; I will endure:→
Good, my lord, enter here. Lear. Pr'ythee, go in thyself; seek thine own ease; This tempest will not give me leave to ponder On things would hurt me more. But I'll go in: In, boy; go first.--[To the Fool.] You houseless poverty,
Nay, get thee in. I'll pray, and then I'll sleep,
[Fool goes in Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are, That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm, How shall your houseless heads, and unfed sides, *Your loop'd and window'd raggedness, defend you From seasons such as these? O, I have ta'en Too little care of this! Take physic, pomp; Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel;
That thou may'st shake the superflux to them,
And show the heavens more just.
Enter EDGAR, disguised as a Madman.
Edg. Away! the foul fiend follows me!Through the sharp hawthorn blows the cold windHumph! go to thy cold bed, and warm thee. Lear. Hast thou given all to thy two daughters? And art thou come to this?
Now all the plagues that in the pendulous air Hang fated o'er men's faults, light on thy daughters! Kent. He hath no daughters, sir.
Lear. Death, traitor! nothing could have subdu'd
To such a lowness, but his unkind daughters.—
Judicious punishment! 'twas this flesh begot
Is man no more than this? Consider him well: Thou owest the worm no silk, the beast no hide, the sheep no wool, the cat no perfume:-Ha! here's three of us are sophisticated? Thou art the thing itself: unaccommodated man is no more but such a poor, bare, forked animal as thou art-Off, off, you lendings.
THE JUSTICE OF PROVIDENCE.
That I am wretched,
Makes thee the happier:-Heavens, deal so still!
PATIENCE AND SORROW.
Patience and sorrow strove
Who should express her goodliest. You have seen
Could so become it.
LEAR'S DISTRACTION DESCRIBED.
In our sustaining corn.
* i. e. To make it subject to us, instead of acting in obedience to it. + Charlocks.
DESCRIPTION of Doyer CLIFF.
Come on, sir; here's the place;-stand still.-How And dizzy 'tis, to cast one's eyes so low! [fearful The crows, and choughs,* that wing the midway air, Show scarce so gross as beetles: Half way down Hangs one that gathers samphire;† dreadful trade! Methinks he seems no bigger than his head: The fishermen, that walk upon the beach, Appear like mice; and yon' tall anchoring bark, Diminish'd to her cock;‡ her cock, a buoy Almost too small for sight: The murmuring surge, That on the unnumber'd idle pebbles chafes, Cannot be heard so high:-I'll look no more; Lest my brain turn, and the deficient sight Topple down headlong.
GLOSTER'S FAREWELL TO THE WORLD.
O you mighty gods!
This world I do renounce; and, in your sights,
To quarrel with your great opposeless wills,
LEAR ON HIS FLATTERERS.
They flatter'd me like a dog; and told me, I had white hairs in my beard, ere the black ones were there. To say ay, and no, to every thing I said!Ay and no too was no good divinity. When the rain came to wet me once, and the wind to make me chatter; when the thunder would not peace at my bidding; there I found them, there I smelt them out. Go to, they are not men o' their words: they told me I was every thing; 'tis a lie; I am not ague-proof.
ON THE ABUSE OF POWER.
Thou rascal beadle, hold thy bloody hand: Why dost thou lash that whore? Strip thine own back;
Thou hotly lust'st to use her in that kind
† A vegetable gathered for pickling.
For which thou whipp'st her. The usurer hangs the
Through tatter'd clothes small vices do appear; Robes, and furr'd gowns, hide all. Plate sin with gold,
And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks;
CORDELIA ON THE INGRATITUDE OF HER SISTERS.
O my dear father! Restoration, hang
Thy medicine on my lips; and let this kiss
Had you not been their father, these white flakes
And wast thou fain, poor father,
To hovel thee with swine, and rogues forlorn,
SCENE BETWEEN LEAR AND CORDELIA.
Cor. How does my royal lord? How fares your majesty?
Lear. You do me wrong, to take me out o' the
Thou art a soul in bliss; but I am bound
Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears
Do scald like molten lead.
Sir, do you know me?
Lear. You are a spirit, I know: When did you die?
Cor. Still, still, far wide!
Phys. He's scarce awake; let him alone awhile Lear. Where have I been?-Where am I?-Fair day-light?—
I am mightily abus'd.—I should even die with pity,
O, look upon me, sir,
And hold your hands in benediction o'er me:-
Pray, do not mock me
I am a very foolish fond old man,
Fourscore and upward; and, to deal plainly,
I fear, I am not in my perfect mind.
Methinks, I should know you, and know this man:
To be my child Cordelia.
And so I am, 1 am.
Lear. Be your tears wet? Yes, 'faith. I pray, weep
If you have poison for me, I will drink it.
Lear. Am I in France?
Lear. Do not abuse me.
No cause, no cause.
In your own kingdom, sir.
Phys. Be comforted, good madam: the great rage, You see, is cur'd in him: and yet it is danger To make him even* o'er the time he has lost. Desire him to go in; trouble him no more, Till further settling.
Cor. Will't please your highness walk?
* To reconcile it to its apprehension.