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Her obsequies have been as far enlarged
Of bell and burial.
Must there no more be done? 1 Priest
No more be done :
As to peace parted souls.
Lay her i' the earth:
When thou liest howling.
What, the fair Ophelia!
THE DEATH OF KING LEAR.
Enter LEAR with CORDELIA dead in his arms; EDGAR, Captain, and
others following. Lear —
Howl, howl, howl, howl! O, you are men of stones:
Why, then she lives.
Is this the promised end ? Edgar
Or image of that horror ?
Fall, and cease!
This feather stirs; she lives! if it be so,
That ever I have felt.
O my good master! Lear —
Prithee, away. Edgar
'Tis noble Kent, your friend. Lear —
A plague upon you, murderers, traitors all !
I killed the slave that was a-hanging thee.
'Tis true, my lords, he did. Lear
Did I not, fellow?
Mine eyes are not o' the best: I'll tell you straight.
If fortune brag of two she loved and hated,
One of them we behold. Lear
This's a dull sight. — Are you not Kent? Kent
Your servant Kent. Where is your servant Caius ? Lear
He's a good fellow, I can tell you that;
He'll strike, and quickly too. He's dead and rotten. Kent
No, my good lord; I am the very man, Lear
I'll see that straight. Kent
That from your first of difference and decay
Have followed your sad steps. Lear
You are welcome hither. Kent
Nor no man else. All's cheerless, dark, and deadly.
And desperately are dead.
Ay, so I think.
He knows not what he says: and vain it is
That we present us to him. Edgar
Enter a Captain. Captain
Edmund is dead, my lord. Albany
That's but a trifle here,
The cup of their deservings. - 0, see, see!
And my poor Fool is hanged! No, no, no life!
sir. Do you see this? Look on her, - look, - her lips, Look there, - look there!
He faints. — My lord, my lord. Rent
Break, heart; - prithee, break! Edgar
Look up, my lord.
Vex not his ghost: 0, let him pass! he hates him much
Stretch him out longer.
The wonder is that he hath endured so long:
He but usurped his life.
Bear them from hence. Our present business
soul, you twain
I havo a journey, sir, shortly to go;
The weight of this sad time we must obey ;
CALIBAN AND THE SAILORS.
(From "The Tempest.")
Enter CALIBAN, with a burden of wood.
All the infections that the sun sucks up
Here comes a spirit of his; and to torment me,
Perchance, he will not mind me. Trinculo Here's neither bush nor shrub, to bear off any weather at all, and another storm brewing; I hear it sing i' the wind: yond' same black cloud, yond' huge one, looks like a foul bombard that would shed his liquor. If it should thunder, as it did before, I know not where to hide my head: yond' same cloud cannot choose but fall by pailfuls. What have we here? a man or a fish ? dead or alive? A fish: he smells like a fish; a very ancient