King Lear

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D.C. Heath & Company, 1917 - 218 pages

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Page 27 - 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 mayst shake the superflux to them, And show the heavens more just.
Page 30 - art the thing itself: unaccommodated man is no more but such a poor, bare, forked animal as thou art. Off, off, you lendings ! come, unbutton here. [Tearing off his clothes. Fool. Prithee, nuncle, be contented; 't is a naughty night to swim in. Now a little fire in a wild field were like an old lecher's heart; a
Page 25 - Another part of the heath. Storm still Enter LEAR and Fool Lear. Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks ! rage ! blow ! You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout Till you have drench'd our steeples, drown'd the cocks ! You sulphurous and thought-executing fires, Vaunt-couriers to oak-cleaving thunderbolts, Singe my white head ! And thou, all-shaking
Page 37 - t can say " I am at the worst"? I am worse than e'er I was. Old Man. 'T is poor mad Tom. Edg. [Aside.] And worse I may be yet : the worst is not So long as we can say "This is the worst.
Page 69 - Re-enter LEAR, with CORDELIA dead in his arms; EDGAR, Captain, and others following Lear. Howl, howl, howl, howl ! O, you are men of stones : Had I your tongues and eyes, I 'Id use them so That heaven's vault should crack. She 's gone for ever! I know when one is dead, and when one lives
Page 50 - 0 you mighty gods ! This world I do renounce, and, in your sights, Shake patiently my great affliction off : If I could bear it longer, and not fall To quarrel with your great opposeless wills, My snuff and loathed part of nature should Burn itself out. If Edgar live, O, bless him ! Now,
Page 11 - Lear. If thou be as poor for a subject as he is for a king, thou art poor enough. What wouldst thou? Kent. Service. Lear. Who wouldst thou serve ? Kent. You. Lear. Dost thou know me, fellow ? Kent. No, sir ; but you have that in your countenance which I would fain call master.
Page 51 - Glou. O, let me kiss that hand ! Lear. Let me wipe it first ; it smells of mortality. Glou. O ruin'd piece of nature ! This great world Shall so wear out to nought. Dost thou know me ? Lear. I remember thine eyes well enough. Dost thou squiny at me ? No, do thy worst, blind
Page 31 - Edg. Poor Tom ; that eats the swimming frog, the toad, the tadpole, the wall-newt and the water ; that in the fury of his heart, when the foul fiend rages, eats cow-dung for sallets; swallows the old rat and the ditch-dog; drinks the green mantle of the standing-pool ; who is whipped from tithing to

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