LEAR It may be so, my lord.— Hear, nature, hear, dear goddess, hear! Suspend thy purpose if thou didst intend To make this creature fruitful: Into her womb convey sterility, Dry up in her the organs of increase252, And from her derogate253 body never spring A babe to honour her: if she must teem254, Create her child of spleen255, that it may live And be a thwart disnatured256 torment to her: Let it stamp wrinkles in her brow of youth, With cadent tears fret258 channels in her cheeks, Turn all her mother’s pains and benefits259 To laughter and contempt, that she may feel How sharper than a
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