Page 1905 - Shakespeare - Vol. 3

Have in thy reverence made!

KENT
Kind and dear Princess! [30]

CORDELIA
Had you not been their father, these white flakes
Did challenge pity of them. Was this a face
To be oppos’d against the warring winds?

To stand against the deep dread-bolted thunder?
In the most terrible and nimble stroke [35]
Of quick, cross lightning? to watch-poor perdu! −
With this thin helm? Mine enemy’s dog,

Though he had bit me, should have stood that night
Against my fire. And wast thou fain, poor father,
To hovel thee with swine and rogues forlorn, [40]
In short and musty straw? Alack, alack!

’Tis wonder that thy life and wits at once
Had not concluded all. He wakes; speak to him.

DOCTOR
Madam, do you; ’tis fittest.

CORDELIA
How does my royal Lord? How fares your Majesty? [45]

LEAR
You do me wrong to take me out o’th’grave;

Thou art a soul in bliss; but I am bound
Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears
Do scald like molten lead.

CORDELIA
Sir, do you know me?

LEAR
You are a spirit, I know; where did you die? [50]