Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow!

Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow!
You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout
Till you have drench’d our steeples, drown’d the cocks!
You sulphurous and thought-executing fires,
Vaunt-couriers to oak-cleaving thunderbolts,
Singe my white head! And thou, all-shaking thunder,
Smite flat the thick rotundity o’ the world!
Crack nature’s moulds, an germens spill at once,
That make ingrateful man!

King Lear, Act 3, Scene 2

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King Lear, 1788/1806 by Benjamin West (1738–1820)

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3 thoughts on “Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow!”

  1. Vaguely reminding Elmer Fudd’s lines in “What’s Opera, Doc?”
    “Nowth winds, bwow! South winds, bwow! Typhoons! Huwwicanes! SMOG!!! (…) Thunder! Wigtning! Stwike the wabbit!”

    Liked by 1 person

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