LEAR Rumble thy bellyful! Spit, fire! Spout, rain! 16 Nor rain, wind, thunder, fire are my daughters. 17 I tax not you, you elements, with unkindness. 18 I never gave you kingdom, called you children; 19 You owe me no subscription. Then let fall 20 Your horrible pleasure. Here I stand your slave, 21 A poor, infirm, weak, and despised old man. 22 But yet I call you servile ministers, 23 That will with two pernicious daughters join 24 Your high-engendered battles ’gainst a head 25 So old and white as this. O, ho, ’tis foul! 26
