Page 1807 - Shakespeare - Vol. 3

You strike my people, and your disorder’d rabble
Make servants of their betters.

Enter Albany.

LEAR
Woe, that too late repents; O! Sir, are you come? [250]
Is it your will? Speak, Sir. Prepare my horses.

Ingratitude, thou marble-hearted fiend,
More hideous, when thou show’st thee in a child,
Than the sea-monster.

ALBANY
Pray, Sir, be patient.

LEAR
(to Goneril) Detested kite! thou liest. [255]

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 name. O most small fault,

How ugly didst thou in Cordelia show! [260]
Which, like an engine, wrench’d my frame of nature
From the fix’d 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. [265]
(Exeunt Kent and Knights.)

ALBANY
My Lord, I am guiltless, as I am 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! [270]