Classic Poem

cordelia:He wakes; speak to him.
doctor:Madam, do you; 'tis fittest.
cordelia:How does my royal lord? How fares your majesty?
lear:You do me wrong to take me out o' the grave;
Thou art a soul in bliss; but I am bound
Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears
Do scald like molten lead.
cordelia:Sir, do you know me?
lear:You are a spirit, I know; when did you die?
cordelia:Still, still, far wide.
doctor:He's scarce awake; let him alone awhile.
lear:Where have I been? Where am I? Fair day-light?
I am mightily abus'd. I should even die with pity
To see another thus. I know not what to say.
I will not swear these are my hands: let's see;
I feel this pin prick. Would I were assur'd
Of my condition!
cordelia:O! look upon me, sir,
And hold your hands in benediction o'er me.
No, sir, you must not kneel.
lear:Pray, do not mock me:
I am a very foolish fond old man,
Fourscore and upward, not an hour more or 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: for I am mainly ignorant
What place this is, and all the skill I have
Remembers not these garments; nor I know not
Where I did lodge last night. Do not laugh at me;
For, as I am a man, I think this lady
To be my child Cordelia.
cordelia:And so I am, I am.
lear:Be your tears wet? Yes, faith. I pray, weep not:
If you have poison for me, I will drink it.
I know you do not love me; for your sisters
Have, as I do remember, done me wrong:
You have some cause, they have not.
cordelia:No cause, no cause.
lear:Am I in France?
kent:In your own kingdom, sir.
lear:Do not abuse me.
doctor:Be comforted, good madam; the great rage,
You see, is kill'd in him; and yet it is danger
To make him even o'er the time he has lost.
Desire him to go in; trouble him no more
Till further settling.
cordelia:Will't please your highness walk?
lear:You must bear with me.
Pray you now, forget and forgive: I am old and foolish.