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!
Into her womb convey sterility!
Dry up in her the organs of increase;
And 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;
With cadent tears fret channels in her cheeks;
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! Away, away!
[Exit.]
ALBANY.
Now, gods that we adore, whereof comes this?
GONERIL.
Never afflict yourself to know more of it;
But let his disposition have that scope
That dotage gives it.
Re-enter Lear.
LEAR.
What, fifty of my followers at a clap?
Within a fortnight?
ALBANY.
What’s the matter, sir?
LEAR.
I’ll tell thee. [To Goneril.] Life and death! I am asham’d
That thou hast power to shake my manhood thus;
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! Let 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 flay thy wolvish visage. Thou shalt find
That I’ll resume the shape which thou dost think
I have cast off for ever.
[Exeunt Lear, Kent and Attendants.]