Blow wind and crack your cheeks. Rage, blow.
9.31658'Til you have drenched
1436the steeples, drowned the cocks.
9.51660Vaunt-couriers to
1438oak-cleaving thunderbolts,
9.61661Singe my white head,
1439and thou, all-shaking thunder,
9.71662Smite flat
1440the thick rotundity of the world,
9.81663Crack nature's
1441mold; all germens spill at once
O nuncle, court holy-water in a dry house
16661444is better than this rainwater out o'door.
1445Good nuncle
1667in, and ask thy daughters' blessing.
1446Here's a night pities
1668neither wise man nor fool.
Rumble thy bellyful. Spit fire, spout rain.
9.1116701448Nor rain, wind, thunder, fire, are my daughters.
9.151674Your horrible pleasure.
1452Here I stand your slave,
9.181677That have with two pernicious daughters joined
He that has a house to put his head in, has a good
16811458headpiece.
9.25 So beggars marry many.
9.27 What he his heart should make,
9.29 And turn his sleep to wake.
No, I will be the pattern of all patience.
Who's there?
Marry here's grace, and a codpiece, that's a
1693wise man and
1468a fool.
Alas, sir, sit you here?
1470Things that love night
9.361695Love not such nights as these.
1471The wrathful skies
9.381697And makes them keep their caves.
1473Since I was man,
9.391698Such sheets of fire,
1474such bursts of horrid thunder,
9.411700Remember
1476to have heard. Man's nature cannot carry
The affliction, nor the force. Let the great gods
9.441704Find out their enemies now.
1480Tremble thou wretch,
9.461706Unwhipped of justice.
1482Hide thee, thou bloody hand,
9.50Seeming
1710hast practised on man's life;
9.511486Close pent-up guilts,
1711rive your concealèd centers,
Alack, bare-headed?
9.561716Some friendship will it lend you 'gainst the tempest.
9.581718More hard than is
1492the stone whereof 'tis raised--
9.601720Denied me to come in, return and force
Their scanted courtesy. My wit begins to turn.
9.6217231496[To the Fool] Come on, my boy. How dost, my boy? Art cold?
9.6317241497I am cold myself.
[To Kent] Where is this straw, my fellow?
9.651499Make vile things precious. Come, your hovel.
1727Poor
9.661500Fool and knave, I have one part of my heart
9.69He that has a little tiny wit,
9.711731Must make content with his fortunes fit,
True, my good boy. [To Kent] Come bring us to this hovel.