King Lear

If, so perchance, she
has restrained the riots
of your followers,

'tis on such ground
and to such
wholesome end

as clears her
from all blame.

My curses on her.
Sir, you are old.

Nature in you
stands on the very
verge of his confine.

You should be
rul'd and led
by some discretion

that discerns your
state better than
you yourself.

Therefore, I pray you
that to our sister
you do make return.

Say you have wrong'd her.
Ask her forgiveness?

Do you but mark
how this becomes the house:

"Dear daughter,
I confess that I am old;
age is unnecessary.

"On my knees I beg
that you vouchsafe me
raiment, bed and food."

Good sir, no more;
these are unsightly tricks.

Return you to my sister.
Never, Regan.

All the stor'd
vengeances of
heaven fall on her!

Blest gods!
So will you wish on me
when the rash mood is on.

No, Regan.
Thou shalt never
have my curse.

Thy tender-hearted nature
shall not give thee
o'er to harshness.

Her eyes are fierce,
but thine do comfort,

not burn.
'Tis not in thee
to grudge my pleasures,

to cut off my train,
to bandy hasty words,
to oppose the bolt
against my coming in.

Thy half of the kingdom
thou hast not forgot
wherein I thee endow'd.

O heavens,