Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Lear. Till you haue drench'd our Steeples, drown the Cockes.
Lear. You Sulph'rous and Thought‐executing Fires,
Lear. Vaunt‐curriors of Oake‐cleauing Thunder‐bolts,
Lear. Sindge my white head. And thou all‐shaking Thunder,
Lear. Strike flat the thicke Rotundity o'th' world,
Lear. Cracke Natures moulds, all germaines spill at once
Lear. That makes ingratefull Man.
Foole. Foole.
Foole. O Nunkle, Court holy‐water in a dry house, is
Foole. better then this Rain‐water out o'doore. Good Nunkle,
Foole. in, aske thy Daughters blessing, here's a night pitties
Foole. neither Wisemen, nor Fooles.
Lear. Lear.
Lear. Rumble thy belly full: spit Fire, spowt Raine:
Lear. Nor Raine, Winde, Thunder, Fire are my Daughters;
Lear. I taxe not you, you Elements with vnkindnesse.
Lear. I neuer gaue you Kingdome, call'd you Children;
Lear. You owe me no subscription. Then let fall
Lear. Your horrible pleasure. Heere I stand your Slaue,
Lear. A poore, infirme, weake, and dispis'd old man: