King Lear

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.
Are my horses

Your asses are
gone about them.

Have you writ
that letter
to my sister?

Ay, madam.
Inform her full
of my particular fear.
Get you gone.

I cannot be so
partial, Goneril,

to the great love
I bear you.

I pray you content.
Shalt see thy
other daughter
will use thee kindly;

for although she's
as like this as a crab's
like an apple,

yet I can tell
what I can tell.

What canst tell, boy?
That she will taste
as like this as a crab
does to a crab.