SCENE XV.
To them, Enter Albany.
Lear.
Woe! that too late repents—O, Sir, are you come?
Is it your will? Speak, Sir.—Prepare my horses.—
[To Albany.
-- 41 --
Ingratitude! thou marble-hearted fiend,
More hideous, when thou shew'st thee in a child,
Than the sea-monster.
Alb.
Pray, Sir, be patient.
Lear.
Detested kite! thou liest.
[To Gonerill.
My train are men of choice and rarest parts,
That all particulars of duty know;
And in the most exact regard support
The worships of their names. O most small fault!
How ugly didst thou in Cordelia shew?
Which, like an engine, wrencht my frame of nature6Q0201
From the fixt place; drew from my heart all love,
And added to the gall. O Lear, Lear, Lear!
Beat at this gate that let thy folly in,
[Striking his head.
And thy dear judgment out.—Go, go, my people.
Alb.
My Lord, I'm guiltless, as I'm ignorant,
Of what hath moved you.
Lear.
It may be so, my Lord—
Hear, Nature, hear; dear Goddess, hear!
Suspend thy purpose, if thou didst intend
To make this creature fruitful;
Into her womb convey sterility,
Dry up in her the organs of increase,
And 3 note
from her derogate body never spring
A Babe to honour her! If she must teem,
Create her child of spleen, that it may live,
And be a thwart disnatur'd torment to her;
Let it stamp wrinkles in her brow of youth,
4 note
With cadent tears fret channels in her cheeks:
-- 42 --
Turn all her mother's pains and benefits
To laughter and contempt; that she may feel,
How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is,
To have a thankless child.—Go, go, my people.
Alb.
Now, Gods, that we adore, wherefore comes this?
Gon.
Never afflict yourself to know more of it,
But let his disposition have that scope,
That dotage gives it.
Lear.
What, fifty of my followers at a clap?
Within a fortnight?—
Alb.
What's the matter, Sir?
Lear.
I'll tell thee—Life and death! I am asham'd
That thou hast power to shake my manhood thus;
[To Gonerill.
5 note
That these hot tears, which break from me perforce,
Should make thee worth them.—blasts and fogs upon thee!
Th' untented woundings of a father's curse
Pierce every sense about thee! Old fond eyes,
Beweep this cause again, I'll pluck ye out,
And cast you, with the waters that you lose,
To temper clay. Ha! is it come to this?
6 noteLet it be so: I have another daughter,
Who, I am sure, is kind and comfortable;
When she shall hear this of thee, with her nails
She'll flea thy wolfish visage. Thou shalt find,
That I'll resume the shape, which thou dost think
I have cast off for ever.
[Exeunt Lear and attendants.
-- 43 --
Samuel Johnson [1765], The plays of William Shakespeare, in eight volumes, with the corrections and illustrations of Various Commentators; To which are added notes by Sam. Johnson (Printed for J. and R. Tonson [and] C. Corbet [etc.], London) [word count] [S11001].
