Shakspeare's tragedy of King Lear, with notes, adapted for schools and for private study by J. Hunter

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122 psl. - Pray, do not mock me : I am a very foolish fond old man, Fourscore and upward, not an hour more nor less ; And, to deal plainly, I fear I am not in my perfect mind. Methinks I should know you, and know this man ; Yet I am doubtful...
66 psl. - You see me here, you Gods, a poor old man, As full of grief as age, wretched in both, If it be you that stir these daughters...
7 psl. - Good my lord , You have begot me, bred me, lov'd me: I Return those duties back as are right fit, Obey you, love you, and most honour you. Why have my sisters husbands , if they say They love you all? Haply, when I shall wed, That lord whose hand must take my plight shall carry Half my love with him , half my care and duty : Sure , 1 shall never marry like my sisters , To love my father all.
100 psl. - Tigers, not daughters, what have you perform'd ? A father, and a gracious aged man, Whose reverence even the head-lugg'd bear would lick, Most barbarous, most degenerate ! have you madded.
19 psl. - These late eclipses in the sun and moon portend no good to us : though the wisdom of nature can reason it thus and thus, yet nature finds itself scourged by the sequent effects : love cools, friendship falls off, brothers divide : in cities, mutinies ; in countries, discord ; in palaces, treason ; and the bond cracked 'twixt son and father.
5 psl. - Tell me, my daughters (Since now we will divest us both of rule, Interest of territory, cares of state), Which of you shall we say doth love us most? That we our largest bounty may extend Where nature doth with merit challenge.
140 psl. - Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life, And thou no breath at all? Thou'lt come no more, Never, never, never, never, never! Pray you, undo this button. Thank you, sir.
114 psl. - em : Take that of me, my friend, who have the power To seal the accuser's lips. Get thee glass eyes ; And, like a scurvy politician, seem To see the things thou dost not.
7 psl. - Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave My heart into my mouth : I love your majesty According to my bond ; nor more nor less.
115 psl. - Thou must be patient; we came crying hither. Thou know'st, the first time that we smell the air, We wawl, and cry: — I will preach to thee; mark me. Glo. Alack, alack the day ! Lear. When we are born, we cry, that we are come To this great stage of fools; This...

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