THE HISTORY OF KING LEAR. Acted at the Duke's Theatre.  
Revived with Alterations. By N. TATE.  
LONDON, Printed for E. Flesher, and are to be sold by R. Bentley, and M. Magnes in Russel-street near Covent-Garden, 1681.   

TO My Esteemed FRIEND Thomas Boteler, Esq  
SIR,  
YOU have a natural Right to this Piece, since, by your Advice, I attempted the Revival of it with Alterations. Nothing but the Power of your persuasion, and my Zeal for all the Remains of Shakespeare, could have wrought me to so bold an Undertaking. I found that the New-modelling of this Story, would force me sometimes on the difficult Task of making the chiefest Persons speak something like their Character, on Matter whereof I had no Ground in my Author. Lear's real, and Edgar's pretended Madness have so much of extravagant Nature (I know not how else to express it) as could never have started but from our Shakespear's Creating Fancy. The Images and Language are so odd and surprising, and yet so agreeable and proper, that whilst we grant that none but Shakespeare could have formed such Conceptions, yet we are satisfied that they were the only Things in the World that ought to be said on those Occasions. I found the whole to answer your Account of it, a Heap of Jewels, unstrung and unpolisht; yet so dazzling in their Disorder, that I soon perceived I had seized a Treasure. 'Twas my good Fortune to light on one Expedient to rectify what was wanting in the Regularity and Probability of the Tale, which was to run through the whole A Love betwixt Edgar and Cordelia, that never changed word with each other in the Original. This renders Cordelia's Indifference and her Father's Passion in the first Scene probable. It likewise gives Countenance to Edgar's Disguise, making that a generous Design that was before a poor Shift to save his Life. The Distress of the Story is evidently heightened by it; and it particularly gave Occasion of a New Scene or Two, of more Success (perhaps) than Merit. This Method necessarily threw me on making the Tale conclude in a Success to the innocent distressed Persons: Otherwise I must have encumbered the Stage with dead Bodies, which Conduct makes many Tragedies conclude with unseasonable Jests. Yet was I racked with no small Fears for so bold a Change, till I found it well received by my Audience; and if this will not satisfy the Reader, I can produce an Authority that questionless 
Mr. dried. Pref. to the Span. Friar.  will. Neither is it of so Trivial an Undertaking to make a Tragedy end happily, for 'tis more difficult to Save than 'tis to Kill: The Dagger and Cup of poison are always in Readiness; but to bring the Action to the last Extremity, and then by probable Means to recover All, will require the Art and judgement of a Writer, and cost him many a Pang in the Performance.  
I have one thing more to apologise for, which is, that I have used less Quaintness of Expression even in the newest Parts of this Play. I confess 'twas Design in me, partly to comply with my Author's Style to make the Scenes of a Piece, and partly to give it some Resemblance of the Time and Persons here Represented. This, Sir, I submit wholly to you, who are both a Judge and Master of Style. Nature had exempted you before you went Abroad from the Morose Saturnine Humour of our Country, and you brought home the Refinedness of Travel without the Affectation. Many Faults I see in the following Pages, and question not but you will discover more; yet I will presume so far on your Friendship, as to make the Whole a Present to you, and Subscribe myself  
Your obliged Friend and humble Servant, N. Tate.   

PROLOGUE.  

SInce by Mistakes your best Delights are made,  
(For even your Wives can please in Masquerade)  
'Twere worth our While t' have drawn you in this day  
By a new Name to our old honest Play;  
But he that did this Evenings Treat prepare  
Bluntly resolved beforehand to declare  
Your Entertainment should be most old Fare.  
Yet hopes, since in rich Shakespear's soil it grew,  
'Twill relish yet with those whose tastes are True,  
And his Ambition is to please a Few.  
If then this Heap of flowers shall chance to wear  
Fresh Beauty in the Order they now bear,  
Even this Shakespear's Praise; each rustic knows  
Amongst plenteous flowers a Garland to Compose,  
Which strung by his course Hand may fairer Show,  
But 'twas a power: Divine first made 'em Grow.  
Why should these Scenes lie hid, in which we find  
What may at Once divert and teach the Mind?  
Morals were always proper for the Stage,  
But are even necessary in this Age.  
Poet's must take the Churches Teaching Trade,  
Since Priests their Province of Intrigue invade;  
But We the worst in this Exchange have got,  
In vain our Poets Preach, whilst churchmen Plot.    

The Persons.  
King Lear, 
Mr. Betterton.  Gloster, 
Mr. Gillo.  Kent, 
Mr. Wiltshire.  Edgar, 
Mr. Smith.  Bastard, 
Mr. Jo. Williams.  Cornwall, 
Mr. Norris.  Albany, 
Mr. Bowman.  Gentleman-Usher, 
Mr. Jevon.  goneril, 
Mrs. Shadwell.  Regan, 
Lady Slingsby.  Cordelia, 
Mrs. Barry.   

Guards, Officers, messenger's, Attendants.    

KING LEAR. A TRAGEDY.  
ACT I.  Enter Bastard solus. Bast. 
THOU Nature art my Goddess, to thy Law  
My Services are bound, why am I then  
Deprived of a Son's Right because I came not  
In the dull Road that custom has prescribed?  
Why Bastard, wherefore Base, when I can boast  
A Mind as generous and a Shape as true  
As honest Madam's Issue? why are we  
Held Base, who in the lusty stealth of Nature  
Take fiercer Qualities than what compound  
The scanted Births of the stolen marriagebed?  
Well then, legitimate Edgar, to thy right  
Of Law I will oppose a Bastard's Cunning.  
Our Father's Love is to the Bastard Edmund  
As to Legitimate Edgar: with success  
I've practised yet on both their easy Natures:  
Here comes the old Man chafed with th' Information  
Which last I forged against my Brother Edgar,  
A Tale so plausible, so boldly uttered  
And heightened by such lucky Accidents,  
That now the slightest circumstance confirms him,  
And Base-born Edmund spite of Law inherits.  Enter Kent and Gloster. Glost. 
Nay, good my Lord, your Charity  
O'reshoots itself to plead in his behalf;  
You are yourself a Father, and may feel  
The sting of disobedience from a Son  
Firstborn and best beloved: Oh Villain Edgar!  Kent. 
Be not too rash, all may be forgery,  
And time yet clear the Duty of your Son.  Glost. 
Plead with the Seas, and reason down the Winds,  
Yet shalt thou ne'er convince me, I have seen  
His foul Designs through all a Father's fondness:  
But be this Light and Thou my Witnesses  
That I discard him here from my Possessions,  
Divorce him from my Heart, my Blood and Name.  Bast. 
It works as I could wish; I'll show myself.  Glost. 
Ha' Edmund! welcome Boy; O Kent see here  
Inverted Nature, Gloster's Shame and Glory,  
This By-born, the wild sally of my Youth,  
Pursues me with all filial Offices,  
Whilst Edgar, begged of Heaven and born in Honour,  
Draws plagues on my white head that urge me still  
To curse in Age the pleasure of my Youth.  
Nay weep not, Edmund, for thy Brother's crimes;  
O generous Boy, thou sharest but half his blood,  
Yet lov'st beyond the kindness of a Brother.  
But I'll reward thy virtue. Fellow me.  
My Lord, you wait the King who comes resolved  
To quit the Toils of Empire, and divide  
His Realms amongst his Daughters, Heaven succeed it,  
But much I fear the Change.  Kent. 
I grieve to see him  
With such wild starts of passion hourly seized,  
As renders Majesty beneath itself.  Glost. 
Alas! 'tis the Infirmity of his Age,  
Yet has his Temper ever been unfixt,  
Chol'rick and sudden; hark, They approach.  [Exeunt Gloster and Bast. Flourish. Enter Lear, Cornwall, Albany, Burgundy, Edgar, Goneril, Regan, Cordelia, Edgar speaking to Cordelia at Entrance. Edgar. 
Cordelia, royal Fair, turn yet once more,  
And e'er successful Burgundy receive  
The treasure of thy Beauties from the King,  
ere happy Burgundy for ever fold Thee,  
Cast back one pitying Look on wretched Edgar.  Cord. 
Alas what would the wretched Edgar with  
The more Unfortunate Cordelia;  
Who in obedience to a Father's will  
Flies from her Edgar's Arms to Burgundy's?  Lear. 
Attend my Lords of Albany and Cornwall  
With Princely Burgundy.  Alb. 
We do, my Liege.  Lear. 
Give me the map— know, Lords, We have divided  
In Three our Kingdom, having now resolved  
To disengage from Our long Toil of State,  
Conferring All upon your younger years;  
You, Burgundy, Cornwall and Albany  
Long in Our Court have made your amorous sojourn  
And now are to be answered— tell me my Daughters  
Which of you Loves Us most, that We may place  
Our largest Bounty with the largest Merit.  
goneril, Our Eldest-born, speak first.  Gon. 
Sir, I do love You more than words can utter,  
Beyond what can be valued, Rich or Rare,  
Nor Liberty, nor Sight, Health, Fame, or Beauty  
Are half so dear, my Life for you were vile,  
As much as Child can love the best of Fathers.  Lear. 
Of all these Bounds, even from this Line to this  
With shady Forests and wide-skirted Meads,  
We make Thee Lady, to thine and Albany's Issue  
Be this perpetual— What says Our Second Daughter?  Reg. 
My Sister, Sir, in part expressed my Love,  
For such as Hers, is mine, though more extended;  
Sense has no other Joy that I can relish,  
I have my All in my dear liege's Love!  Lear. 
Therefore to thee and thine Hereditary  
Remain this ample Third of our fair Kingdom.  Cord. 
Now comes my Trial, how am I distressed,  
That must with cold speech tempt the chol'rick King  
Rather to leave me Dowerless, than condemn me  
To loathed Embraces!  Lear. 
Speak now Our last, not least in Our dear Love,  
So ends my Task of State,— Cordelia speak,  
What canst Thou say to win a richer Third  
Than what thy Sisters gained?  Cord. 
Now must my Love in words fall short of theirs  
As much as it exceeds in Truth— Nothing my Lord.  Lear. 
Nothing can come of Nothing, speak again.  Cord. 
Unhappy am I that I can't dissemble,  
Sir, as I ought, I love your Majesty,  
No more nor less.  Lear. 
Take heed Cordelia,  
Thy Fortunes are at stake, think better on't  
And mend thy Speech a little.  Cord. 
O my Liege,  
You gave me Being, Bred me, dearly Love me,  
And I return my Duty as I ought,  
Obey you, Love you, and most Honour you!  
Why have my sister's Husbands, if they love you All?  
Haply when I shall Wed, the Lord whose Hand  
Shall take my Plight, will carry half my Love,  
For I shall never marry, like my Sisters,  
To Love my Father All.  Lear. 
And goes thy Heart with this?  
'Tis said that I am Chol'rick, judge me Gods,  
Is there not cause? now Minion I perceive  
The Truth of what has been suggested to Us,  
Thy Fondness for the Rebel Son of Gloster,  
False to his Father, as Thou art to my Hopes:  
And oh take heed, rash Girl, lest We comply  
With thy fond wishes, which thou wilt too late  
Repent, for know Our nature cannot brook  
A Child so young and so Ungentle.  Cord. 
So young my Lord and True.  Lear. 
Thy Truth then be thy dower,  
For by the sacred Sun and solemn Night  
I here disclaim all my paternal Care,  
And from this minute hold thee as a Stranger  
Both to my Blood and Favour.  Kent. 
This is Frenzy.  
Consider, good my Liege—  Lear. 
Peace Kent.  
Come not between a Dragon and his Rage.  
I loved her most, and in her tender Trust  
Designed to have bestowed my Age at Ease!  
So be my Grave my Peace as here I give  
My Heart from her, and with it all my Wealth:  
My Lords of Cornwall and of Albany,  
I do invest you jointly with full Right  
In this fair Third, Cordelia's forfeit dower.  
Mark me, My Lords, observe Our last Resolve,  
Ourselves attended with an hundred Knights  
Will make abode with you in monthly Course,  
The Name alone of King remain with me,  
Yours be the Execution and Revenues,  
This is Our final Will, and to confirm it  
This Coronet part between you.  Kent. 
Royal Lear,  
Whom I have ever honoured as my King,  
Loved as my Father, as my Master followed,  
And as my Patron thought on in my prayers—  Lear. 
Away, the Bow is bend, make from the Shaft.  Kent. 
No, let it fall and drench within my Heart,  
Be Kent unmannerly when Lear is mad:  
Thy youngest Daughter—  Lear. 
On thy Life no more.  Kent. 
What wilt thou do, old Man?  Lear. 
Out of my sight!  Kent. 
See better first.  Lear. 
Now by the gods—  Kent. 
Now by the gods, rash King, thou swearest in vain.  Lear. 
Ha' traitor—  Kent. 
Do, kill thy Physician, Lear,  
Strike through my Throat, yet with my latest Breath  
I'll Thunder in thine Ear my just Complaint,  
And tell Thee to thy Face that Thou dost ill.  Lear. 
Hear me rash Man, on thy Allegiance hear me;  
Since thou hast striv'n to make Us break our Vow  
And pressed between our Sentence and our power,  
Which nor our Nature nor our Place can bear,  
We banish thee for ever from our Sight  
And Kingdom; if when Three days are expired  
Thy hated Trunk be found in our Dominions  
That moment is thy Death; Away.  Kent. 
Why far thee well, King, since thou art resolved,  
I take thee at thy word, and will not stay  
To see thy Fall: the gods protect the Maid  
That truly thinks, and has most justly said.  
Thus to new Climates my old Truth I bear,  
Friendship lives Hence, and Banishment is Here.  [Exit. Lear. 
Now Burgundy, you see her Price is fallen,  
Yet if the fondness of your Passion still  
Affects her as she stands, Dow'rless, and lost  
In our Esteem, she's yours, take her or leave her.  Burg. 
Pardon me, Royal Lear, I but demand  
The dower yourself proposed, and here I take  
Cordelia by the Hand Duchess of Burgundy.  Lear. 
Then leave her Sir, for by a Father's rage  
I tell you all her Wealth. Away.  Burg. 
Then Sir be pleased to charge the breach  
Of our Alliance on your own Will  
Not my Inconstancy.  [Exeunt. Manent Edgar and Cordelia. Edg. 
Has Heaven then weighed the merit of my Love,  
Or is't the raving of my sickly Thought?  
Could Burgundy forgo so rich a Prize  
And leave her to despairing Edgar's Arms?  
Have I thy Hand Cordelia, do I clasp it,  
The Hand that was this minute to have joined  
My hated Rivals? do I kneel before thee  
And offer at thy feet my panting Heart?  
Smile, Princess, and convince me, for as yet  
I doubt, and dare not trust the dazzling Joy.  Cord. 
Some Comfort yet that 'twas no vicious Blot  
That has deprived me of a Father's Grace,  
But merely want of that that makes me rich  
In wanting it, a smooth professing Tongue:  
O Sisters, I am loath to call your fault  
As it deserves; but use our Father well,  
And wronged Cordelia never shall repine.  Edg. 
O heavenly Maid that art thyself thy dower,  
Richer in virtue than the Stars in Light,  
If Edgar's humble fortunes may be graced  
With thy Acceptance, at thy feet he lays 'em.  
Ha' my Cordelia! dost thou turn away?  
What have I done t'offend Thee?  Cord. 
Talked of Love.  Edg. 
Then I've offended oft, Cordelia too  
Has oft permitted me so to offend.  Cord. 
When, Edgar, I permitted your Addresses,  
I was the darling Daughter of a King,  
Nor can I now forget my royal Birth,  
And live dependent on my Lover's Fortune.  
I cannot to so low a fate submit,  
And therefore study to forget your Passion,  
And trouble me upon this theme no more.  Edg. 
Thus Majesty takes most State in Distress!  
How are we tossed on Fortune's fickle flood!  
The Wave that with surprising kindness brought  
The dear Wreck to my Arms, has snatched it back,  
And left me mourning on the barren Shore.  [Aside. Cord. 
This Baseness of th' ignoble Burgundy  
Draws just suspicion on the Race of Men,  
His Love was interest, so may Edgar's be  
And He but with more compliment dissemble;  
If so, I shall oblige him by Denying:  
But if his Love be fixed, such Constant flame  
As warms our Breasts, if such I find his Passion,  
My Heart as grateful to his Truth shall be,  
And Cold Cordelia prove as Kind as herald  [Exit. Enter Bastard hastily. Bast. 
Brother, I've found you in a lucky minute,  
Fly and be safe, some Villain has incensed  
Our Father against your Life.  Edg. 
Distressed Cordelia! but oh! more Cruel!  Bast. 
Hear me Sir, your Life, your Life's in Danger.  Edg. 
A Resolve so sudden  
And of such black Importance!  Bast. 
'Twas not sudden,  
Some Villain has of long time laid the Train.  Edg. 
And yet perhaps 'twas but pretended Coldness,  
To try how far my passion would pursue.  Bast. 
He hears me not; wake, wake Sir.  Edg. 
Say ye Brother?—  
No Tears good Edmund, if thou bringst me tidings  
To strike me dead, for Charity delay not,  
That present will befit so kind a Hand.  Bast. 
Your danger Sir comes on so fast  
That I want time t'inform you, but retire  
Whilst I take care to turn the pressing Stream.  
O gods! for heavens sake Sir.  Edg. 
Pardon me Sir, a serious Thought  
Had seized me, but I think you talked of danger  
And wished me to Retire; must all our Vows  
End thus!— Friend I obey you— O Cordelia!  [Exit. Bast. 
Ha! ha'! fond Man, such credulous Honesty  
Lessens the Glory of my Artifice,  
His Nature is so far from doing wrongs  
That he suspects none: if this Letter speed  
And pass for Edgar's, as himself would own  
The Counterfeit but for the foul Contents,  
Then my designs are perfect— here comes Gloster.  [Enter Gloster. Glost. 
Stay Edmund, turn, what paper were you reading?  Bast. 
A Trifle Sir.  Glost. 
What needed then that terrible dispatch of it  
Into your Pocket, come produce it Sir.  Bast. 
A Letter from my Brother Sir, I had  
Just broke the Seal but knew not the Contents,  
Yet fearing they might prove to blame  
Endeavoured to conceal it from your sight.  Glost. 
'Tis Edgar's Character.  [Reads. 
This Policy of Fathers is intolerable that keeps our Fortunes from us till Age will not suffer us to enjoy 'em; I am weary of the Tyranny: Come to me that of this I may speak more: if our Father would sleep till I waked him, you should enjoy half his Possessions, and live beloved of your Brother  Edgar. 
Slept till I wake him, you should enjoy  
Half his possessions— Edgar to write this  
Against his indulgent Father! Death and Hell!  
Fly, Edmund, seek him out, wind me into him  
That I may by't the traitor's heart, and fold  
His bleeding entrails on my vengeful Arm.  Bast. 
Perhaps 'twas writ, my Lord, to prove my virtue.  Glost. 
These late Eclipses of the Sun and Moon  
Can bode no less; Love cools, and friendship fails,  
In city's mutiny, in countries discord,  
The bond of Nature cracked 'twixt Son and Father:  
Find out the Villain, do it carefully  
And it shall lose thee nothing.  [Exit. Bast. 
So, now my project's firm, but to make sure  
I'll throw in one proof more and that a bold one;  
I'll place old Gloster where he shall o'erhear us  
Confer of this design, whilst to his thinking,  
Deluded Edgar shall accuse himself.  
Be Honesty my interest and I can  
Be honest too, and what Saint so Divine  
That will successful villainy decline!  [Exit. Enter Kent disguised. Kent. 
Now banished Kent, if thou canst pay thy duty  
In this disguise where thou dost stand condemned,  
Thy Master Lear shall find thee full of Labours.  Enter Lear attended. Lear. 
In there, and tell our Daughter we are here  
Now; What art Thou?  Kent. 
A Man, Sir.  Lear. 
What dost thou profess, or wouldst with us?  Kent. 
I do profess to be no less than I seem, to serve him truly that puts me in Trust, to love him that's Honest, to converse with him that's wise and speaks little, to fight when I can't choose; and to eat no Fish.  Lear. 
I say, what art Thou?  Kent. 
A very honest-hearted fellow, and as poor as the King.  Lear. 
Then art thou poor indeed— What canst thou do?  Kent. 
I can keep honest Counsel, mar a curious Tale in the telling, deliver a plain Message bluntly, that which ordinary Men are fit for I am qualified in, and the best of me is Diligence.  Lear. 
Fellow me, thou shalt serve me.  Enter one of Gonerill's Gentlemen. 
Now Sir?  Gent. 
Sir—  [Exit; Kent runs after him. Lear. 
What says the fellow? Call the Clatpole back.  Att. 
My Lord, I know not, but methinks your Highness is entertained with slender Ceremony.  Servant. 
He says, my Lord, your Daughter is not well.  Lear. 
Why came not the Slave back when I called him?  Seru. 
My Lord, he answered me i'th' surliest manner,  
That he would not.  Re-enter Gentleman brought in by Kent. Lear. 
I hope our Daughter did not so instruct him:  
Now, who am I Sir?  Gent. 
My Lady's Father.  Lear. 
My Lord's Knave—  [Strikes him. [Gonerill at the Entrance. Gent. 
I'll not be struck my Lord.  Kent. 
Nor tripped neither, thou vile Civet-box.  Strikes up his heels. Gon. 
By Day and Night this is insufferable,  
I will not bear it.  Lear. 
Now, Daughter, why that frontlet on?  
Speak, does that Frown become our Presence?  Gon. 
Sir, this licentious Insolence of your Servants  
Is most unseemly, hourly they break out  
In quarrels bred by their unbounded Riots,  
I had fair hope by making this known to you  
T'have had a quick Redress, but find too late  
That you protect and countenance their outrage;  
And therefore, Sir, I take this freedom, which  
Necessity makes Discreet.  Lear. 
Are you our Daughter?  Gon. 
Come, Sir, let me entreat you to make use  
Of your discretion, and put off betimes  
This Disposition that of late transforms you  
From what you rightly are.  Lear. 
Does any here know me? why this is not Lear.  
Does Lear walk thus? speak thus? where are his Eyes?  
Who is it that can tell me who I am?  Gon. 
Come, Sir, this Admiration's much o'th' savour  
Of other your new humours, I beseech you  
To understand my purposes aright;  
As you are old, you should be stayed and wise,  
Here do you keep an hundred Knights and Squires,  
Men so debauched and bold that this our Palace  
Shows like a riotous Inn, a Tavern, Brothel;  
Be then advised by her that else will take  
The she begs, to lessen your Attendance,  
Take half a way, and see that the remainder  
Be such as may befit your Age, and know  
Themselves and you.  Lear. 
Darkness and Devils!  
Saddle my Horses, call my Train together,  
Degenerate Viper, I'll not stay with Thee;  
I yet have left a Daughter— Serpent, Monster,  
Lessen my Train, and call 'em riotous?  
All men approved of choice and rarest Parts,  
That each particular of duty know—  
How small, Cordelia, was thy Fault? O Lear,  
Beat at this Gate that let thy Folly in,  
And thy dear judgement out; Go, go, my People.  [Going off meets Albany entering. 
Ingrateful Duke, was this your will?  Alb. 
What Sir?  Lear. 
Death! fifty of my Followers at a clap!  Alb. 
The matter Madam?  Gon. 
Never afflict yourself to know the Cause,  
But give his Dotage way.  Lear. 
Blasts upon thee,  
Th' untented wound of a Father's Curse  
Pierce every Sense about Thee; old fond Eyes  
Lament this Cause again, I'll pluck ye out  
And cast ye with the Waters that ye lose  
To temper Clay— No, Gorgon, thou shalt find  
That I'll resume the Shape which thou dost think  
I have cast off for ever.  Gon. 
Mark ye that.  Lear. 
Hear Nature!  
Dear Goddess hear, and if thou dost intent  
To make that Creature fruitful, change thy purpose;  
Pronounce upon her Womb the barren Curse,  
That from her blasted Body never spring  
A Babe to honour her— but if she must bring forth,  
Defeat her Joy with some distorted Birth,  
Or monstrous Form, the Prodigy o'th' Time,  
And so perverse of spirit, that it may Live  
Her Torment as 'twas Born, to fret her Cheeks  
With constant Tears, and wrinkle her young Brow.  
Turn all her Mother's Pains to Shame and Scorn,  
That she may curse her Crime too late, and feel  
How sharper than a Serpent's Tooth it is  
To have a Thankless Child! Away, away.  [Exit cum suis. Gon. 
Presuming thus upon his numerous Train  
He thinks to play the Tyrant here, and hold  
Our Lives at will.  Alb. 
Well, you may bear too far.  [Ex. 
End of the First Act.   

ACT II.  SCENE, Gloster's House. Enter Bastard. Bast. 
THE Duke comes here to night, I'll take advantage  
Of his Arrival to complete my project,  
Brother a Word, come forth, 'tis I your Friend,  [Enter Edgar. 
My Father watches for you, fly this place,  
Intelligence is given where you are hid,  
Take the advantage of the Night, bethink ye  
Have not spoke against the Duke of Cornwall  
Something might show you a favourer of  
Duke Albany's Party?  Edg. 
Nothing, why ask you?  Bast. 
Because he's coming here to Night in haste  
And Regan with him— hark! the Guards, Away.  Ed. 
Let 'em come on, I'll stay and clear myself.  Bast. 
Your Innocence at leisure may be heard,  
But Gloster's storming Rage as yet is deaf,  
And you may perish e'er allowed the hearing.  [Ex. Edgar. 
Gloster comes yonder: now to my feigned scuffle—  
Yield, come before my Father! Lights here, Lights!  
Some Blood drawn on me would beget opinion  [Stabs his Arm. 
Of our more fierce Encounter— I have seen  
Drunkards do more than this in sport.  Glost. 
Now, Edmund, where's the traitor?  Enter Gloster and Servants. Bast. 
That Name, Sir,  
striketh horror through me, but my Brother, Sir,  
Stood here i'th' Dark.  Glost. 
Thou bleedest, pursue the Villain  
And bring him piecemeal to me.  Bast. 
Sir, he's fled.  Glost. 
Let him fly far, this Kingdom shall not hid him:  
The noble Duke, my Patron, comes to Night,  
By his Authority I will proclaim  
Rewards for him that brings him to the Stake,  
And Death for the Concealer.  
Then of my Lands, loyal and natural Boy,  
I'll work the means to make thee capable.  Exeunt. Enter Kent (disguised still) and gonerils Gentleman, severally. Gent. 
Good morrow Friend, belong'st thou to this House?  Kent. 
Ask them will answer thee.  Gent. 
Where may we set our Horses?  Kent. 
I'th' Mire.  Gent. 
I am in haste, prithee an thou lovst me, tell me.  Kent. 
I love thee not.  Gent. 
Why then I care not for Thee.  Kent. 
An I had thee in Lipsbury Pinfold, I'd make thee care for me.  Gent. 
What dost thou mean? I know thee not.  Kent. 
But, Minion, I know Thee.  Gent. 
What dost thou know me for?  Kent. 
For a base, proud, beggarly, white-livered, Glass-gazing, superserviceable finical Rogue; one that would be a Pimp in way of good Service, and art nothing but a composition of Knave, Beggar, Coward, Pandarus—  Gent. 
What a monstrous Fellow art thou to rail at one that is neither known of thee nor knows thee?  Kent. 
Impudent Slave, not know me, who but two days since tripped up thy heels before the King: draw, Miscreant, or I'll make the Moon shine through thee.  Gent. 
What means the Fellow?— Why prithee, prithee;  
I tell thee I have nothing to do with thee.  Kent. 
I know your Rogueship's Office, you come with Letters against the King, taking my young Lady Vanity's part against her royal Father; draw Rascal.  Gent. 
Murder, murder, help Ho!  Kent. 
Dost thou scream Peacock, strike Puppet, stand dappar  
Slave.  Gent. 
Help Hea '! Murder, help.  [Exit. Kent after him. Flourish. Enter Duke of Cornwall, Regan, attended, Gloster, Bastard. Glost. 
All Welcome to your Graces, you do me honour.  Duke. 
Gloster we've heard with sorrow that your Life  
Has been attempted by your impious Son,  
But Edmund here has paid you strictest Duty.  Glost. 
He did betray his Practice, and received  
The Hurt you see, striving to apprehend him.  Duke. 
Is He pursued?  Glost. 
He is, my Lord.  Reg. 
Use our Authority to apprehend  
The traitor and do Justice on his Head;  
For you, Edmund, that have so signalised  
Your virtue, you from henceforth shall be ours;  
Natures of such firm Trust we much shall need.  
A charming Youth and worth my further Thought.  Aside. Duke. 
Lay comforts, noble Gloster, to your Breast,  
As we to ours, This Night be spent in Revels,  
We choose you, Gloster, for our Host to Night,  
A troublesome expression of our Love.  
On, to the Sports before us— who are These?  Enter the Gentleman pursued by Kent. Glost. 
Now, what's the matter?  Duke. 
Keep peace upon your Lives, he dies that strikes.  
Whence and what are ye?  Att. 
Sir, they are Messengers, the one from your Sister,  
The other from the King.  Duke. 
Your Difference? speak.  Gent. 
I'm scarce in breath, my Lord.  Kent. 
No marvel, you have so bestirred your Valour,  
Nature disclaims the Dastard, a tailor made him.  Duke. 
Speak yet, how grew your Quarrel?  Gent. 
Sir this old Ruffian here, whose Life I spared  
In pity to his Beard—  Kent. 
Thou Essence Bottle!  
In pity to my Beard?— Your leave, my Lord,  
And I will tread the Muss-cat into Mortar.  Duke. 
knowst thou our Presence?  Kent. 
Yes, Sir, but Anger has a Privilege.  Duke. 
Why art thou angry?  Kent. 
That such a Slave as this should wear a Sword  
And have no Courage, Office and no Honesty.  
Not Frost and Fire hold more Antipathy  
Than I and such a Knave.  Glost. 
Why dost thou call him Knave?  Kent. 
His Countenance likes me not.  Duke. 
No more perhaps does Mine, nor His or Hers.  Kent. 
Plaindealing is my Trade, and to be plain, Sir,  
I have seen better Faces in my time  
Than stands on any Shoulders now before me.  Reg. 
This is some Fellow that having once been praised,  
For Bluntness, since affects a saucy Rudeness,  
But I have known one of these surly Knaves  
That in his Plainness harboured more Design  
Than twenty cringing complementing Minions.  Duke. 
What's the offence you gave him?  Gent. 
Never any, Sir.  
It pleased the King his Master lately  
To strike me on a slender misconstruction,  
Whilst watching his Advantage this old Lurcher  
Tripped me behind, for which the King extolled him;  
And, flushed with th' honour of this bold exploit,  
Drew on me here again.  Duke. 
Bring forth the Stocks, we'll teach you.  Kent. 
Sir I'm too old to learn;  
Call not the Stocks for me, I serve the King,  
On whose Employment I was sent to you,  
You'll show too small Respect, and too bold Malice  
Against the Person of my royal Master,  
Stocking his Messenger.  Duke. 
Bring forth the Stocks, as I have Life and Honour,  
There shall he sit till Noon.  Reg. 
Till Noon, my Lord? till Night, and all Night too.  Kent. 
Why, Madam, if I were your Father's Dog  
You would not use me so.  Reg. 
Sir, being his Knave I will.  Glost. 
Let me beseech your Graces to forbear him,  
His fault is much, and the good King his Master  
Will check him for't, but needs must take it ill  
To be thus slighted in his Messenger.  Duke. 
we'll answer that;  
Our Sister may receive it worse to have  
Her Gentleman assaulted: to our business lead.  [Exit. Glost. 
I am sorry for thee, Friend, 'tis the Duke's pleasure  
Whose Disposition will not be controlled,  
But I'll entreat for thee.  Kent. 
Pray do not, Sir—  
I have watched and travelled hard,  
Some time I shall sleep out, the rest I'll whistle:  [Ex. Glost. 
Farewell t'ye, Sir.  
All weary and o'er-watched,  
I feel the drowsy Guest steal on me; take  
Advantage heavy Eyes of this kind Slumber,  
Not to behold this vile and shameful Lodging  [Sleeps. Enter Edgar. Edg. 
I heard myself proclaimed,  
And by the friendly Hollow of a Tree  
Escaped the Hunt, no Port is free, no place  
Where Guards and most unusual Vigilance  
Do not attend to take me— how easy now  
'Twere to defeat the malice of my Trale,  
And leave my Griefs on my Sword's reeking point;  
But Love detains me from Death's peaceful Cell,  
Still whispering me Cordelia's in distress;  
Unkind as she is I cannot see her wretched,  
But must be near to wait upon her Fortune.  
Who knows but the white minute yet may come  
When Edgar may do service to Cordelia,  
That charming Hope still ties me to the Oar  
Of painful Life, and makes me too, submit  
To th' humblest shifts to keep that Life a foot;  
My Face I will besmear and knit my Locks,  
The Country gives me proof and precedent  
Of Bedlam Beggars, who with roaring Voices  
Strike in their numbed and mortified bare Arms  
Pins, Iron-spikes, Thorns, sprigs of Rosemary,  
And thus from sheepcoats Villages and Mills,  
Sometimes with Prayers, sometimes with lunatic Banns  
Enforce their Charity, poor Tyrligod, poor Tom  
That's something yet, Edgar I am no more.  [Exit Kent in the Stocks still; Enter Lear attended. Lear. 
'Tis strange that they should so departed from home  
And not send back our Messenger.  Kent. 
Hail, noble Master.  Lear. 
How? Makest thou this Shame thy Pastime?  
What's he that has so much mistake thy Place  
To set thee here?  Kent. 
It is both He and She, Sir, your Son and Daughter.  Lear. 
No. Kent: Yes: Lear: No I say. Kent: I say yea:  Lear. 
By Jupiter I swear no.  Kent. 
By Juno I swear, I swear i  Lear. 
They durst not do't  
They could not, would not do't, 'tis worse than Murder  
To do upon Respect such violent outrage.  
Resolve me with all modest haste which way  
Thou mayst deserve, or they impose this usage?  Kent. 
My Lord, when at their Home  
I did commend your Highness Letters to them,  
E'er I was risen, arrived another Post  
Steered in his haste, breathless and panting forth  
From goneril his Mistress Salutations,  
Whose Message being delivered, they took Horse,  
Commanding me to follow and attend  
The leisure of their Answer; which I did,  
But meeting that other Messenger  
Whose welcome I perceived had poisoned mine,  
Being the very Fellow that of late  
Had shown such rudeness to your Highness, I  
Having more Man than Wit about me, Drew,  
On which he raised the House with Coward cries:  
This was the Trespass which your Son and Daughter  
Thought worth the shame you see it suffer here.  Lear. 
Oh! how this Spleen swells upward to my Heart  
And heaves for passage— down thou climbing Rage  
Thy Element's below; where is this Daughter?  Kent. 
Within, Sir, at a Masque.  Enter Gloster. Lear. 
Now Gloster?— ha'!  
Deny to speak with me? Theyare sick, theyare weary,  
They have travelled hard to Night— mere fetches;  
Bring me a better Answer.  Glost. 
My dear Lord,  
You know the fiery Quality of the Duke—  Lear. 
Vengeance! Death, Plague, Confusion,  
Fiery? what Quality— why Gloster, Gloster,  
I'd speak with the Duke of Cornwall and his Wife.  Glost. 
I have informed 'em so.  Lear. 
Informed 'em! dost thou understand me, Man,  
I tell thee Gloster—  Glost. 
I, my good Lord.  Lear. 
The King would speak with Cornwall, the dear Father  
Would with his Daughter speak, commands her Service.  
Are they informed of this? my Breath and Blood!  
Fiery! the fiery Duke! tell the hot Duke—  
No, but not yet, may be he is not well:  
Infirmity does still neglect all Office;  
I beg his Pardon, and I'll chide my Rashness  
That took the indisposed and sickly Fit  
For the sound Man— but wherefore sits he there?  
Death on my State, this Act convinces me  
That this Retiredness of the Duke and her  
Is plain Contempt; give me my Servant forth,  
Go tell the Duke and's Wife I'd speak with 'em.  
Now, instantly, bid 'em come forth and hear me,  
Or at their Chamber door I'll beat the Drum  
Till it cry sleep to Death—  Enter Cornwall and Regan. 
Oh! are ye come?  Duke. 
Health to the King.  Reg. 
I am glad to see your Highness.  Lear. 
Regan, I think you are, I know what cause  
I have to think so; shouldst thou not be glad  
I would divorce me from thy Mother's Tomb?  
Beloved Regan, thou wilt shake to hear  
What I shall utter: Thou couldst ne'er ha' thought it,  Kent here set at liberty. 
Thy Sister's naught, O Regan, she has tied  
Ingratitude like a keen Vulture here,  
I scarce can speak to thee.  Reg. 
I pray you, Sir, take patience; I have hope  
That you know less to value her Desert,  
Then she to slack her Duty.  Lear. 
Ha! how's that?  Reg. 
I cannot think my Sister in the least  
Would fail in her respects, but if perchance  
She has restrained the Riots of your Followers  
'Tis on such Grounds, and to such wholesome Ends  
As clears her from all Blame.  Lear. 
My Curses on her.  Reg. 
O Sir, you are old  
And should content you to be ruled and led  
By some discretion that discerns your State  
Better than you yourself, therefore Sir,  
Return to our Sister, and say you have wronged her.  Lear. 
Ha! ask her Forgiveness?  
No, no, 'twas my mistake thou didst not mean so,  
Dear Daughter, I confess that I am old;  
Age is unnecessary, but thou art good,  
And wilt dispense with my Infirmity.  Reg. 
Good Sir, no more of these unsightly passions,  
Return back to our Sister.  Lear. 
Never, Regan,  
She has abated me of half of my Train,  
Looked black upon me, stabbed me with her Tongue;  
All the stored Vengeances of heaven fall  
On her ingrateful Head; strike her young Bones  
Ye taking airs with Lameness.  Reg. 
O the blessed Gods! Thus will you wish on me  
When the rash mood—  Lear. 
No, Regan, Thou shalt never have my Curse,  
Thy tender Nature cannot give thee o'er  
To such Impiety; Thou better knowst  
The Offices of Nature, bond of childhood,  
And deuce of Gratitude: Thou bearest in mind  
The halfo'th ' Kingdom which our love conferred  
On thee and thine.  Reg. 
Good Sir, toth' purpose.  Lear. 
Who put my Man i'th' Stocks?  Duke. 
What Trumpet's that?  Reg. 
I know't, my Sister's, this confirms her Letters.  
Sir, is your Lady come?  Enter Gonerill's Gentleman. Lear. 
More Torture still?  
This is a Slave whose easy borrowed pride  
Dwells in the fickle Grace of her he follows;  
A Fashion-fop that spends the day in Dressing,  
And all to bear his Lady's flattering Message,  
That can deliver with a Grace her Lie,  
And with as bold a face bring back a greater.  
Out Varlet from my sight.  Duke. 
What means your Grace?  Lear. 
Who stocked my Servant? Regan, I have hope  
Thou didst not know it.  Enter Gonerill. 
Who comes here! oh Heavens!  
If you do love Old men, if your sweet sway  
Allow Obedience; if yourselves are Old,  
Make it your Cause, send down and take my part;  
Why, Gorgon, dost thou come to haunt me here?  
Art not ashamed to look upon this Beard?  
Darkness upon my Eyes they play me false,  
O Regan, wilt thou take her by the Hand?  Gon. 
Why not by th' Hand, Sir, how have I offended?  
All's not Offence that indiscretion finds,  
And Dotage terms so.  Lear. 
Heart thou art too tough.  Reg. 
I pray you, Sir, being old confessyou are so,  
If till the expiration of your Month  
You will return and sojourn with your Sister,  
Dismissing half your Train, come then to me,  
I am now from Home, and out of that Provision  
That shall be needful for your Entertainment.  Lear. 
Return with her and fifty Knights dismissed?  
No, rather I'll forswear all Roofs, and choose  
To be Companion to the Midnight Wolf,  
My naked Head exposed to th' merciless Air  
Then have my smallest wants supplied by her.  Gon. 
At your choice, Sir.  Lear. 
Now I prithee Daughter do not make me mad;  
I will not trouble thee, my Child, farewell,  
we'll meet no more, no more see one another;  
Let shame come when it will, I do not call it,  
I do not bid the Thunder-bearer strike,  
Nor tell Tales of thee to avenging heaven;  
Mend when thou canst, be better at thy leisure,  
I can be patiented, I can stay with Regan,  
I, and my hundred Knights.  Reg. 
Your Pardon, Sir.  
I looked not for you yet, nor am provided  
For your fit welcome.  Lear. 
Is this well spoken now?  Reg. 
My Sister treats you fair; what fifty Followers  
Is it not well? what should you need of more?  Gon. 
Why might not you, my Lord, receive Attendance  
From those whom she calls Servants, or from mine?  Reg. 
Why not, my Lord? if than they chance to slack you  
We could controll'em— if you come to me,  
For now Isee the Danger, I entreat you  
To bring but Five and Twenty; to no more  
Will I give place.  Lear. 
Hold now my Temper, stand this bolt unmoved  
And I am Thunder-proof;  
The wicked when compared with the more wicked  
Seem beautiful, and not to be the worst,  
Stands in some rank of Praise; now, goneril,  
Thou art innocent again, I'll go with thee;  
Thy Fifty yet, does double Five and Twenty,  
And thou art twice her Love.  Gon. 
Hear me, my Lord,  
What need you Five and Twenty, Ten, or Five,  
To follow in a House where twice so many  
Have a Command t'attend you?  Reg. 
What need one?  Lear. 
Blood, Fire! hear— Leaprosies and bluest Plague  
Room, room for Hell to belch her Horrors up  
And drench the Circe's in a stream of Fire;  
Hark how th' Infernals echo to my Rage  
Their Whips and Snakes—  Reg. 
How lewd a thing is Passion!  Gon. 
So old and stomachful.  Lightning and Thunder. Lear. 
heavens drop your Patience down;  
You see me here, ye Gods, a poor old Man  
As full of Griefs as Age, wretched in both—  
I'll bear no more: no, you unnatural hags,  
I will have such Revenges on you both,  
That all the world shall— I will do such things  
What they are yet I know not, but they shall be  
The Terrors of the Earth; you think I'll weep,  Thunder again. 
This Heart shall break into a thousand pieces  
Before I'll weep— O Gods! I shall go mad.  [Exit. Duke. 
'Tis a wild Night, come out o'th' Storm.  [Exeunt. 
End of the Second Act.   

ACT III.  SCENE, A Desert Heath. Enter Lear and Kent in the Storm. Lear. 
BLOW Winds and burst your Cheeks, rage louderyet,  
Fantastic Lightning sing, sing my white Head;  
Spout Cataracts, and Hurricanos fall  
Till you have drowned the Towns and Palaces  
Of proud ingrateful Man.  Kent. 
Not all my best entreaties can persuade him  
Into some needful shelter, or to bide  
This poor slight covering on his aged Head  
Exposed to this wild war of Earth and heaven.  Lear. 
Rumble thy fill, fight Whirlwind, Rain and Fire:  
Not Fire, Wind, Rain or Thunder are my Daughters:  
I tax not you ye Elements with unkindness;  
I never gave you Kingdoms, called you Children,  
You own me no Obedience, then let fall  
Your horrible pleasure, here I stand your Slave,  
A poor, infirm, weak and despised old man;  
Yet I will call you servile Ministers,  
That have with two pernicious Daughters joined  
Their high-engendred Battle against a Head  
So Old and White as mine, Oh! oh! 'tis Foul.  Kent. 
Hard by, Sir, is a Hovel that will lend  
Some shelter from this Tempest.  Lear. 
I will forget my Nature, what? so kind a Father,  
I, there's the point.  Kent. 
Consider, good my Liege, Things that love Night  
Love not such Nights as this; these wrathful Skies  
Frighten the very wanderers o'th' Dark,  
And make 'em keep their Caves; such drenching Rain,  
Such Sheets of Fire, such Claps of horrid Thunder,  
Such Groans of roaring Winds have ne'er been known.  Lear. 
Let the Great Gods,  
That keep this dreadful pother o'er our Heads  
Find out their Enemies now, tremble thou Wretch  
That hast within thee undiscovered Crimes.  
Hid, thou bloody Hand,  
Thou perjured Villain, holy, holy Hypocrite,  
That drinkst the widow's Tears, sigh now and cry  
These dreadful Summoners Grace, I am a Man  
More sinned against than sinning.  Kent. 
Good Sir, to th' hovel.  Lear. 
My wit gins to burn,  
Come on my Boy, how dost my Boy? art Cold?  
I'm cold myself; show me this Straw, my Fellow,  
The Art of our Necessity is strange,  
And can make vile things precious; my poor Knave,  [Lond. Storm. 
Cold as I am at Heart, I've one place There  [Exit. 
That's sorry yet for Thee.  Gloster's Palace. Enter Bastard. Bast. 
The Storm is in our louder Rev'lings drowned.  
Thus would I Reign could I but mount a Throne.  
The Riots of these proud imperial Sisters  
Already have imposed the galling Yoke  
Of Taxes, and hard Impositions on  
The drudging Peasants Neck, who bellow out.  
Their loud Complaints in Vain— Triumphant Queens!  
With what Assurance do they tread the Crowd.  
O for a taste of such majestic Beauty,  
Which none but my hot Veins are fit t' engage;  
Nor are my Wishes desperate, for even now  
During the Banquet I observed their Glances  
Shot thick at me, and as they left the Room  
Each cast by stealth a kind inviting Smile,  
The happy Earnest— ha'!  Two Servants from several Entrances deliver him each a Letter, and Ex. 
Where merit is so Transparent, not to behold it  [Reads. 
Were Blindness, and not to reward it Ingratitude.  goneril. 
Enough! Blind, and ingrateful should I be  
Not to Obey the Summons ofThis Oracle.  
Now for a Second Letter.  [Opens the other. 
If Modesty be not your Enemy, doubt not to  
Find me your Friend.  Regan. 
Excellent sibyl! O my glowing Blood!  
I am already sick of expectation,  
And pant for the Possession— here Gloster comes  
With business on his Brow; be hushed my Joys.  Glost. 
I come to seek thee, Edmund, to impart a business of Importance; I knew thy loyal Heart is touched to see the Cruelty of these ingrateful Daughters against our royal Master.  Bast. 
Most Savage and Unnatural.  Glost. 
This change in the State sits uneasy. The Commons repine aloud at their female Tyrants, already they Cry out for the re-installment of their good old King, whose Injuries I fear will inflame 'em into Mutiny.  Bast. 
'Tis to be hoped, not feared.  Glost. 
Thou hast it Boy, 'tis to be hoped indeed,  
On me they cast their Eyes, and hourly Court me  
To lead 'em on, and whilst this Head is Mine  
I am Theirs, a little covert Craft, my Boy,  
And then for open Action, 'twill be Employment  
Worthy such honest daring Souls as Thine.  
Thou, Edmund, art my trusty Emissary,  
Haste on the Spur at the first break of day  
With these Dispatches to the Duke of Combray;  Gives him Letters. 
You know what mortal Feuds have always flamed  
Between this Duke of Cornwall's Family, and his  
Full Twenty thousand mountaineers  
Th' invetrate Prince will send to our Assistance.  
Dispatch; Commend us to his Grace, and Prosper.  Bast. 
Yes, credulous old Man,  [Aside. 
I will commend you to his Grace,  
His Grace the Duke of Cornwall— instantly  
To show him these Contents in thy own Character,  
And sealed with thy own Signet; then forthwith  
The Chol'rick Duke gives Sentence on thy Life;  
And to my hand thy vast Revenues fall  
To glut my Pleasure that till now has starved.  Gloster going off is met by Cordelia entering, Bastard observing at a Distance. Cord. 
Turn, Gloster, Turn, by all the sacred powers  
I do conjure you give my Griefs a Hearing,  
You must, you shall, nay I am sure you will,  
For you were always styled the Just and Good.  Glost. 
What wouldst thou, Princess? rise and speak thy Griefs.  Cord. 
Nay, you shall promise to redress 'em too,  
Or here I'll kneel for ever; I entreat  
Thy succour for a Father and a King,  
An injured Father and an injured King.  Bast. 
O charming Sorrow! how her Tears adorn her  
Like Dew on flowers, but she is Virtuous,  
And I must quench this hopeless Fire i'th' Kindling.  Glost. 
Consider, Princess,  
For whom thou beg'st, 'tis for the King that wronged Thee.  Cord. 
O name not that; he did not, could not wrong me.  
Nay muse not, Gloster, for it is too likely  
This injured King ere this is passed your Aid,  
And gone Distracted, with his savage Wrongs.  Bast. 
I'll gaze no more— and yet my Eyes are charmed.  Cord. 
Or what if it be Worse? can there be Worse?  
As 'tis too probable this furious Night  
Has pierced his tender Body, the bleak Winds  
And cold Rain chilled, or Lightning struck him Dead;  
If it be so your Promise is discharged,  
And I have only one poor Boon to beg,  
That you'd Convey me to his breathless Trunk,  
With my torn Robes to wrap his hoary Head,  
With my torn Hair to bind his Hands and Feet,  
Then with a shower of Tears  
To wash his clay-smeared Cheeks, and Die beside him.  
Glost, Rise, fair Cordelia, thou hast Piety  
Enough t' atone for both thy sister's Crimes.  
I have already plotted to restore  
My injured Master, and thy virtue tells me  
We shall succeed, and suddenly.  [Exit. Cord. 
Dispatch, Arante,  
Provide me a Disguise, we'll instantly  
Go seek the King, and bring him some Relief.  Ar. 
How, Madam? are you Ignorant  
Of what your impious Sisters have decreed?  
Immediate Death for any that relieve him.  Cord. 
I cannot dread the Furies in this case.  Ar. 
In such a Night as This? Consider, Madam,  
For many Miles about there's scarce a Bush  
To shelter in.  Cord. 
Therefore no shelter for the King,  
And more our Charity to find him out:  
What have not Women dared for vicious Love,  
And we'll be shining Proofs that they can dare  
For Piety as much; blow Winds, and Lightnings fall,  
Bold in my Virgin Innocence, I'll fly  
My Royal Father to Relieve, or Die.  [Exit. Bast. 
Provide me a Disguise, we'll instantly  
Go seek the King:— ha'! Ha'! a lucky change,  
That virtue which I feared would be my hindrance  
Has proved the Bond to my Design;  
I'll bribe two Ruffians that shall at a distance follow,  
And seize 'em in some desert Place, and there  
Whilst one retains her t' other shall return  
T' inform me where she's lodged; I'll be disguised too.  
Whilst they are poaching for me I will to the Duke  
With these Dispatches, then to th'Field  
Where like the vigorous Jove I will enjoy  
This Semele in a Storm, 'twill deaf her Cries  
Like Drums in Battle, lest her Groans should pierce  
My pitying Ear, and make the amorous Fight less fierce.  [Exit. Storm still. The Field Scene. Enter Lear and Kent. Kent. 
Here is the place, my Lord; good my Lord enter;  
The Tyranny of this open Night's too rough  
For Nature to endure.  Lear. 
Let me alone.  Kent. 
Good my Lord, enter.  Lear. 
Wilt break my Heart?  Kent. 
Beseech you, Sir.  Lear. 
Thou thinkest 'tis much that this contentious Storm  
Invades us to the Skin so, 'tis to thee  
But where the greater Malady is fixed  
The lesser is scarce felt: the Tempest in my Mind  
Does from my Senses take all feeling else  
Save what beats there. Filial Ingratitude!  
Is it not as this Mouth should tear this Hand  
For lifting Food to't?— but I'll punish home.  
No, I will weep no more; in such a Night  
To shut me out— pour on, I will endure  
In such a Night as this: O Regan, Gonerill,  
Your old kind Father whose frank heart gave All,  
O that way madness lies, let me shun that,  
No more of that.  Kent. 
See, my Lord, here's the Entrance.  Lear. 
Well, I'll go in  
And pass it all, I'll pray and then I'll sleep:  
Poor naked Wretches wheresoever you are,  
That 'bide the pelting of this pitiless Storm,  
How shall your houseless Heads and unfed Sides  
Sustain this Shock? your raggedness defend you  
From Seasons such as These.  
O I have ta'en too little Care of this,  
Take physic, Pomp,  
Expose thyself to feel what Wretches feel,  
That thou may'st cast the superflux to them,  
And show the heavens more Just.  Edgar in the hovel. 
Five Fathom and a half, poor Tom.  Kent. 
What art thou that dost grumble there i'th' Straw?  
Come forth.  Edg. 
Away! The foul Fiend follows me— through the sharp Haw-thorn blows the cold Wind— Mum, Go to thy Bed and warm Thee.— ha'! what do I see? by all my Griefs the poor old King beheaded,  [Aside. 
And drenched in this fow Storm, professing Siren,  
Are all your Protestations come to this?  Lear. 
Tell me, Fellow, didst thou give all to thy Daughters?  Edg. 
Who gives any thing to poor Tom, whom the foul Fiend has led through Fire and through Flame, through Bushes and bogs, that has laid Knives under his Pillow, and Halters in his pew, that has made him proud of Heart to ride on a Baytrotting Horse over four inched Bridges, to coarse his own Shadow for a traitor.— bless thy five Wits, Tom's a cold [Shivers.] bless thee from Whirlwinds, Star-blasting and Taking: do poor Tom some Charity, whom the foul Fiend vexes— Sa, sa, there I could have him now, and there, and there again.  Lear. 
Have his Daughters brought him to this pass?  
Couldst thou save Nothing? didst thou give 'em All?  Kent 
He has no Daughters, Sir.  Lear. 
Death, traitor, nothing could have subdued Nature  
To such a Lowness but his unkind Daughters.  Edg. 
Pillicock sat upon Pillicock Hill; Hallo, hallo, hallo.  Lear. 
Is it the fashion that discarded Fathers  
Should have such little Mercy on their Flesh?  
judicious punishment, 'twas this Flesh begot  
Those Pelican Daughters.  Edg. 
Take heed of the fow Fiend, obey thy Parents, keep thy Word justly, Swear not, commit not with Man's sworn Spouse, set not thy sweet Heart on proud Array: Tom's a Cold.  Lear. 
What hast thou been?  Edg. 
A servingman proud of Heart, that curled my Hair, used Perfume and Washeses, that served the Lust of my mistress' Heart, and did the Act of Darkness with her. Swore as many Oaths as I spoke Words, and broke 'em all in the sweet Face of Heaven: Let not the Paint, nor the Patch, nor the rushing of Silks betray thy poor Heart to Woman, keep thy Foot out of Brothels, thy Hand out of Plackets, thy Pen from Creditors Books, and defy the foul Fiend— still through the Hawthorn blows the cold Wind— Sess, Suum, Mun, Nonny, Dolphin my Boy— hist! the Boy, Sesey! soft let him troth by.  Lear. 
Death, thou wert better in thy Grave, than thus to answer with thy uncovered Body this Extremity of the Sky. And yet consider him well, and Man's no more than This; Thou art indebted to the Worm for no Silk, to the Beast for no Hide, to the Cat for no Perfume— ha'! here's Two of us are Sophisticated; Thou art the Thing itself, unaccommated Man is no more than such a poor bare forked Animal as thou art.  
Off, Off, ye vain Disguises, empty lend,  
I'll be my Original Self, quick, quick, Uncase me.  Kent. 
Defend his Wits, good Heaven!  Lear. 
One point I had forgot; what's your Name?  Edg. 
Poor Tom that eats the swimming Frog, the walnut, and the Water-nut; that in the fury of his Heart when the foul Fiend rages eats cowdung for salads, swallows the old Rat and the Ditch-dog, that drinks the green Mantle of the standing Pool that's whipped from Tithing to Tithing; that has Three Suits to his Back, Six Shirts to his Body, 
Horse to Ride, and Weapon to wear,  
But Rats and Mice, and such small Deer  
Have been Tom's Food for Seven long Year.  Beware, my Follower; Peace, Smulkin; Peace, thou foul Fiend.  Lear. 
One word more, but be sure true council; tell me, is a Madman a Gentleman, or a Yeoman?  Kent. 
I feared it would come to This, his Wits are gone.  Edg. 
Fraterreto calls me, and tells me, Nero is an Angler in the Lake of Darkness. Pray, Innocent, and beware the foul Fiend.  Lear. 
Right, ha'! Ha'! was it not pleasant to have a Thousand with red hot Spits come hizzing in upon 'em?  Edg. 
My Tears begin to take his part so much  
They mar my Counterfeiting.  Lear. 
The little Dogs and all, Trey, Blanch and sweetheart, see they Bark at me.  Edg. 
Tom will throw his Head at'em; Avaunt ye Curs.  
Be thy Mouth or black or white,  
Tooth that poisons if it by't,  
Mastiff, greyhound, mongrel, Grim,  
Hound or spaniel, Brach or him,  
Bob-tail, tied, or Trundle-tail,  
Tom will make 'em weep and wail,  
For with throwing thus my Head  
Dogs leap the Hatch, and All are fled.  
Ud, de, de, de. See, se, se. Come march to Wakes, and Fairs, and Market-Towns,— Poor Tom, thy Horn is dry.  Lear. 
You Sir, I entertain you for One of my Hundred, only I do not like the fashion of your Garments, you'll say they're Persian, but no matter, let 'em be changed.  Enter Gloster. Edg. 
This is the foul Flibertigibet, he gins at Curfew and walks at first Cock, he gives the Web and the Pin, knits the Elflock, squints the Eye, and makes the Hair-lip, mildews the white Wheat, and hurts the poor Creature of the Earth; 
Swithin footed Thrice the Cold,  
He met the nightmare and her ninefold,  
'Twas there he did appoint her;  
He bid her alight and her Troth plight,  
And arroynt the Witch arroynt her.   Glost. 
What, has your Grace no better Company?  Edg. 
The Prince of Darkness is a Gentleman; Modo he is called, and Mahu.  Glost. 
Go with me, Sir, hard by I have a Tenant.  
My Duty cannot suffer me to obey in all your Daughters hard Commands, who have enjoined me to make fast my Doors, and let this Tyrannous Night take hold upon you. Yet have I ventured to come seek you out, and bring you where both Fire and Food is ready.  Kent. 
Good my Lord, take his offer.  Lear. 
First let me talk with this Philosopher,  
Say, Stagirite, what is the Cause of Thunder.  Glost. 
Beseech you, Sir, go with me.  Lear. 
I'll talk a Word with this same Learned Theban.  
What is your Study?  Edg. 
How to prevent the Fiend, and to kill Vermin.  Lear. 
Let me ask you a Word in private.  Kent. 
His Wits are quite unsettled; Good Sir, let's force him hence.  Glost. 
Canst blame him? his Daughters seek his Death; This Bedlam but disturbs him the more. Fellow, be gone.  Edg. 
Child Rowland to the dark tower came,  
His Word was still Fie, foe, and Fum,  
I smell the blood of a British Man.— Oh Torture!  [Exit. Glost. 
Now, I prithee Friend, let's take him in our Arms, and carry him where he shall meet both Welcome, and Protection.  
Good Sir, along with us.  Lear. 
You say right, let 'em Anatomize Regan, see what breeds about her Heart; is there any Cause in Nature for these hard Hearts?  Kent. 
Beseech your Grace.  Lear. 
Hist!— Make no Noise, make no Noise— so so; we'll to Supper i'th' Morning.  [Exeunt. Enter Cordelia and Arante. Ar. 
Dear Madam, rest ye here, our search is Vain,  
Look here's a shed, beseech ye, enter here.  Cord. 
Prithee go in thyself, seek thy own Ease,  
Where the Mind's free, the Body's Delicate:  
This Tempest but diverts me from the Thought  
Of what would hurt me more.  Enter Two Ruffians. 1 Ruff. 
We have dogged 'em far enough, this Place is private,  
I'll keep 'em Prisoners here within this hovel,  
Whilst you return and bring Lord Edmund Hither;  
But help me first to House 'em.  2 Ruff. 
Nothing but this dear Devil  [Shows Gold. 
Should have drawn me through all this Tempest;  
But to our Work.  [They seize Cordelia and Arante, who Shriek out. 
Soft, Madam, we are Friends, dispatch, I say.  Cord. 
Help, Murder, help! Gods! some kind Thunderbolt  
To strike me Dead.  Enter Edgar. Edg. 
What Cry was That?— ha', Women seized by Ruffians?  
Is this a Place and Time for villainy?  
Avaunt ye bloodhounds.  [Drives'em with his quarterstaff. Both. 
The Devil, the Devil!  [Run off. Edg. 
O speak, what are ye that appear to be  
O'th' tender Sex, and yet unguarded Wander  
Through the dead Mazes of this dreadful Night,  
Where (tho' at full) the Clouded Moon scarce darts  
Imperfect Glimmerings.  Cord. 
First say what art thou  
Our Guardian Angel, that were't pleased t' assume  
That horrid shape to fright the Ravishers?  
We will kneel to Thee.  Edg. 
O my tumultuous blood!  
By all my trembling Veins Cordelia's Voice!  
'Tis she herself!— My Senses sure conform  
To my wild Garb, and I am Mad indeed.  Cord. 
whate'er thou art, befriend a wretched Virgin,  
And if thou canst direct our weary search.  Edg. 
Who relieves poor Tom, that sleeps on the Nettle, with the hedgepig for his Pillow.  
Whilst Smug plied the Bellows  
She trucked with her Fellows,  
The freckle-faced Mab  
Was a Blouze and a Drab,  
Yet Swithin made Oberon jealous— Oh! Torture.  Ar. 
Alack, Madam, a poor wand'ring lunatic.  Cord. 
And yet his Language seemed but now well tempered.  
Speak, Friend, to one more wretched than thyself,  
And if thou hast one Interval of sense,  
Inform us if thou canst where we may find  
A poor old Man, who through this Heath has strayed  
The tedious Night— Speak, sawest thou such a One?  Edg. 
The King, her Father, whom she's come to seek  [Aside. 
Through all the Terrors of this Night. O Gods!  
That such amazing Piety, such Tenderness  
Should yet to me be Cruel—  
Yes, Fair One, such a One was lately here,  
And is conveyed by some that came to seek him,  
T' a neighbouring Cottage; but distinctly where,  
I know not.  Cord. 
Blessing's on'em,  
Let's find him out, Arante, for thou seest  
We are in heaven's Protection.  [Going off. Edg. 
O Cordelia!  Cord. 
Ha!— Thou know'st my Name.  Edg. 
As you did once know Edgar's.  Cord. 
Edgar!  Edg. 
The poor Remains of Edgar, what your Scorn  
Has left him.  Cord. 
Do we wake, Arante?  Edg. 
My Father seeks my Life, which I preserved  
In hopes of some blessed Minute to oblige  
Distressed Cordelia, and the Gods have given it;  
That Thought alone prevailed with me to take  
This frantic Dress, to make the Earth my Bed,  
With these bare Limbs all change ofSeasons bide,  
Noons scorching Heat, and midnight's piercing Cold,  
To feed on Offals, and to drink with Herds,  
To Combat with the Winds, and be the Sport  
Of Clowns, or what's more wretched yet, their Pity.  Ar. 
Was ever Tale so full ofMisery!  Edg. 
But such a Fall as this I grant was due  
To my aspiring Love, for 'twas presumptuous,  
Though not presumptuously pursued;  
For well you know I wore my Flames concealed,  
And silent as the Lamps that Burn in Tombs,  
Till you perceived my Grief, with modest Grace  
Drew forth the Secret, and then sealed my Pardon.  Cord. 
You had your Pardon, nor can you Challenge more.  Edg. 
What do I. Challenge more?  
Such Vanity agrees not with these Rags;  
When in my prosperous State rich Gloster's Heir,  
You silenced my Pretences, and enjoined me  
To trouble you upon that theme no more;  
Then what Reception must Love's Language find  
From these bare Limbs and beggars humble Weeds?  Cord. 
Such as the Voice of Pardon to a Wretch condemned;  
Such as the Shouts  
Of succouring Forces to a Town besieged.  Edg. 
Ah! what new Method now of Cruelty?  Cord. 
Come to my Arms, thou dearest, best of Men,  
And take the kindest Vows that e'er were spoke  
By a protesting Maid.  Edg. 
Is't possible?  Cord. 
By the dear Vital Stream that baths my Heart,  
These hallowed Rags ofThine, and naked virtue,  
These abject Tassels, these fantastic Shreds,  
(Ridiculous even to the meanest Clown)  
To me are dearer than the richest Pomp  
Of purple monarches.  Edg. 
Generous charming Maid,  
The Gods alone that made, can rate thy Worth!  
This most amazing Excellence shall be  
Fame's Triumph, in succeeding Ages, when  
Thy bright Example shall adorn the Scene,  
And teach the World Perfection.  Cord. 
Cold and weary,  
We'll rest a while, Arante, on that Straw,  
Then forward to find out the poor Old King.  Edg. 
Look I have Flint and Steel, the Implements  
Of wand'ring lunatics, I'll strike a Light,  
And make a Fire beneath this Shed, to dry  
Thy Storm-drencht Garments, ere thou Lie to rest thee;  
Then Fierce and wakeful as th' Hesperian Dragon,  
I'll watch beside thee to protect thy Sleep;  
Mean while, the Stars shall dart their kindest Beams,  
And Angels Visit my Cordelia's Dreams  [Exeunt. SCENE, The Palace. Enter Cornwall, Regan, Bastard, servant's. Cornwall with Gloster's Letters. Duke. 
I will have my Revenge ere I depart his house.  
Regan, see here, a Plot upon our State,  
'Tis Gloster's Character, that has betrayed  
His double Trust of Subject, and ofOst.  Reg. 
Then double be our Vengeance, this confirms  
Th'Intelligence that we now now received,  
That he has been this Night to seek the King;  
But who, Sir, was the kind Discoverer?  Duke. 
Our Eagle, quick to spy, and fierce to seize,  
Our trusty Edmund.  Reg. 
'Twas a noble Service;  
O Cornwall, take him to thy deepest Trust,  
And wear him as a Jewel at thy Heart.  Bast. 
Think, Sir, how hard a Fortune I sustain,  
That makes me thus repent of serving you!  [Weeps. 
O that this Treason had not been, or I  
Not the Discoverer.  Duke. 
Edmund, Thou shalt find  
A Father in our Love, and from this Minute  
We call thee Earl of Gloster; but there yet  
Remains another Justice to be done,  
And that's to punish this discarded traitor;  
But lest thy tender Nature should relent  
At his just Sufferings, nor brook the Sight,  
We wish thee to withdraw.  Reg. 
The Grotto, Sir, within the lower Grove,  To Edmund Aside. 
Has Privacy to suit a Mourner's Thought.  Bast. 
And there I may expect a Comforter,  
Ha', Madam?  Reg. 
What may happen, Sir, I know not,  
But 'twas a friend's Advice.  [Ex. Bastard. Duke. 
Bring in the traitor.  Gloster brought in. 
Bind fast his Arms.  Glost. 
What mean your Graces?  
You are my Guests, pray do me no foul Play.  Duke. 
Bind him, I say, hard, harder yet.  Reg. 
Now, traitor, thou shalt find—  Duke. 
Speak, Rebel, where hast thou sent the King?  
Whom spite of our Decree thou saw'st last Night.  Glost. 
I'm tied to th'Stake, and I must stand the Course.  Reg. 
Say where, and why thou hast conceealed him.  Glost. 
Because I would not see thy cruel Hands  
Tear out his poor old Eyes, nor thy fierce Sister  
Carve his anointed Flesh; but I shall see  
The swift winged Vengeance overtake such Childrer.  Duke. 
See't shalt thou never, Slaves perform your Work,  
Out with those treacherous Eyes, dispatch, I say,  
If thou seest Vengeance—  Glost. 
He that will think to live till he be old,  
Give me some help— O cruel! oh! ye Gods.  They put out his Eyes. Seru. 
Hold, hold, my Lord, I bar your Cruelty,  
I cannot love your safety and give way  
To such a barbarous practice.  Duke. 
Ha', my Villain.  Seru. 
I have been your Servant from my Infancy,  
But better Service have I never done you  
Then with this Boldness—  Duke. 
Take thy Death, Slave.  Seru. 
Nay, than Revenge whilst yet my blood is Warm.  [Fight. Reg. 
Help here— are you not hurt, my Lord?  Glost. 
Edmund, enkindle all the sparks of Nature  
To quit this horrid Act.  Reg. 
Out, treacherous Villain,  
Thou call'st on him that Hates thee, it was He  
That broached thy Treason, showed us thy Dispatches;  
There— read, and save the Cambrian Prince a Labour,  
If thy Eyes fail thee call for Spectacles.  Glost. 
O my Folly!  
Then Edgar was abused, kind Gods forgive me that.  Reg. 
How is't, my Lord?  Duke. 
Turn out that Eye-less Villain, let him smell  
His way to Cambray, throw this Slave upon a Dunghill.  Regan, 
I Bleed apace, give me your Arm.  [Exeunt. Glost. 
All Dark and Comfortless!  
Where are those various Objects that but now  
Employed my busy Eyes? where those Eyes?  
Dead are their piercing Rays that lately shot  
O'er flowery Vales to distant Sunny Hills,  
And drew with Joy the vast Horizon in.  
These groping Hands are now my only guides,  
And Feeling all my Sight.  
O Misery! what words can sound my Grief?  
Shut from the Living whilst among the Living;  
Dark as the Grave amidst the bustling World.  
At once from Business and from Pleasure barred;  
No more to view the Beauty of the Spring,  
Nor see the Face of Kindred, or of Friend.  
Yet still one way th' extremest Fate affords,  
And even the Blind can find the Way to Death.  
Must I then tamely Die, and unrevenged?  
So Lear may fall: No, with these bleeding Rings  
I will present me to the pitying Crowd,  
And with the rhetoric of these dropping Veins  
Inflame 'em to Revenge their King and me;  
Then when the Glorious Mischief is on Wing,  
This Lumber from some Precipice I'll throw,  
And dash it on the ragged Flint below;  
Whence my freed Soul to her bright sphere shall fly,  
Through boundless Orbs, eternal Regions spy,  
And like the Sun, be All one glorious Eye.  [Ex. 
End of the Third Act.   

ACT iu.  A Grotto. Edmund and Regan amorously Seated, listening to music. Bast. 
WHY were those Beauties made Another's Right  
Which None can prise like Me? charming Queen  
Take all my blooming Youth, for ever fold me  
In those soft Arms, Lull me in endless Sleep  
That I may dream of pleasures too transporting  
For Life to bear.  Reg. 
Live, live, my Gloster,  
And feel no Death but that of swooning joy,  
I yield thee Blisses on no harder Terms  
Than that thou continue to be Happy.  Bast. 
This jealousy is yet more kind, is't possible  
That I should wander from a Paradise  
To feed on sickly Weeds? such Sweets live here  
That Constancy will be no virtue in me,  
And yet must I forth with go meet her Sister,  [Aside. 
To whom I must protest as much—  
Suppose it be the same; why best of all,  
And I have then my Lesson ready conned.  Reg. 
Wear this Remembrance of me— I dare now  [Gives him a Ring. 
Absent myself no longer from the Duke  
Whose Wound grows Dangerous— I hope Mortal.  Bast. 
And let this happy Image of your Gloster,  [Pulling out a Picture drops a Note. 
Lodge in that Breast where all his Treasure lies.  [Exit. Reg. 
To this brave Youth a woman's blooming beauties  
Are due: my Fool usurps my Bed— What's here?  
Confusion on my Eyes.  [Reads. 
Where Merit is so Transparent, not to behold it were Blindness, and not to reward it, Ingratitude.  
goneril.  
Vexatious Accident! yet Fortunate too,  
My jealousy's confirmed, and I am taught  
To cast for my Defence—  [Enter an Officer. 
Now, what mean those Shouts? and what thy hasty Entrance?  Off. 
A most surprising and a sudden Change,  
The Peasants are all up in Mutiny,  
And only want a Chief to lead'em on  
To Storm your Palace.  Reg. 
On what Provocation?  Off. 
At last day's public Festival, to which  
The Yeomen from all Quarters had repaired,  
Old Gloster, whom you late deprived of Sight,  
(His Veins yet Streaming fresh) presents himself,  
Proclaims your Cruelty, and their Oppression,  
With the King's Injuries; which so erraged 'em,  
That now that Mutiny which long had crept  
Takes Wing, and threatens your Best powers.  Reg. 
White-livered Slave!  
Our Forces raised and led by Valiant Edmund,  
Shall drive this Monster of Rebellion back  
To her dark Cell; young Gloster's Arm allays  
The Storm, his Father's feeble Breath did Raise.  [Exit. The Field SCENE, Enter Edgar. Edg. 
The lowest and most abject Thing of Fortune  
Stands still in Hope, and is secure from Fear,  
The lamentable Change is from the Best,  
The Worst returns to Better— who comes here  [Enter Gloster, led by an old Man. 
My Father poorly led? Deprived of Sight,  
The precious Stones torn from their bleeding Rings!  
Something I heard of this inhuman Deed  
But disbelieved it, as an Act too horrid  
For the hot Hell of a cursed Woman's fury,  
When will the measure of my woes be full?  Glost. 
Revenge, thou art afoot, Success attend Thee.  
Well have I sold my Eyes, if the Event  
Prove happy for the injured King.  Old M. 
O, my good Lord, I have been your Tenant, and your Father's Tenant these Fourscore years.  Glost. 
Away, get thee Away, good Friend, be gone,  
Thy Comforts can do me no good at All,  
thou they may hurt.  Old M. 
You cannot see your Way.  Glost. 
I have no Way, and therefore want no Eyes,  
I stumbled when I saw: O dear Son Edgar,  
The Food of thy abused Father's Wrath,  
Might I but live to see thee in my Touch  
I'd say, I had Eyes again.  Edg. 
Alas, he's sensible that I was wronged,  
And should I own myself, his tender Heart  
Would break betwixt th' extremes of Grief and Joy.  Old M. 
How now, who's There?  Edg. 
A Charity for poor Tom. Play fair, and defy the foul Fiend.  
O Gods! and must I still pursue this Trade,  [Aside. 
Trifling beneath such Loads ofMisery?  Old M. 
'Tis poor mad Tom.  Glost. 
In the late Storm I such a Fellow saw,  
Which made me think a Man a Worm,  
Where is the lunatic?  Old M. 
Here, my Lord.  Glost. 
Get thee now away, if for my sake  
Thou wilt o'ertake us hence a Mile or Two  
I' th' way towered Dover, do't for ancient Love,  
And bring some covering for this naked Wretch  
Whom I'll entreat to lead me.  Old M. 
Alack, my Lord, He's Mad.  Glost. 
'Tis the Time's Plague when madmen lead the Blind.  
Do as I bid thee.  Old M. 
I'll bring him the best ' apparel that I have  
Come on't what will.  [Exit. Glost. 
Sirrah, naked Fellow.  Edg. 
Poor Tom's a cold;— I cannot fool it longer,  
And yet I must— bless thy sweet Eyes they Bleed,  
Believe it poor Tom even weeps his Blind to see 'em.  Glost. 
knowst thou the way to Dover?  Edg. 
Both style and Gate, Horse-way and footpath, poor Tom has been scared out of his good Wits; bless every true Man's Son from the foul Fiend.  Glost. 
Here, take this Purse, that I am wretched  
Makes thee the Happier, heaven deal so still.  
Thus let the griping usurers Hoard be scattered,  
So Distribution shall undo Excess,  
And each Man have enough. Dost thou know Dover?  Edg. 
I, Master.  Glost. 
There is a Cliff, whose high and bending Head  
Looks dreadfully down on the roaring Deep.  
Bring me but to the very Brink of it,  
And I'll repair the Poverty thou bear'st  
With something Rich about me, from that Place  
I shall no leading need.  Edg. 
Give me thy Arm: poor Tom shall guide thee.  Glost. 
Soft, for I hear the Tread ofPassengers.  Enter Kent and Cordelia. Cord. 
Ah me! your Fear's too true, it was the King;  
I spoke but now with some that met him  
As Mad as the vexed Sea, Singing aloud,  
Crowned with rank Femiter and furrow Weeds,  
With Berries, burdock's, Violets, daisies, Poppies,  
And all the idle flowers that grow  
In our sustaining Corn, conduct me to him  
To prove my last Endeavours to restore him,  
And heaven so prosper thee.  Kent. 
I will, good Lady.  
Ha', Gloster here!— turn, poor dark Man, and hear  
A Friend's Condolement, who at Sight of thine  
Forgets his own Distress, thy old true Kent.  Glost. 
How, Kent? from whence returned?  Kent. 
I have not since my Banishment been absent,  
But in Disguise followed the abandoned King;  
'Twas I thou saw'st with him in the late Storm.  Glost. 
Let me embrace thee, had I Eyes I now  
Should weep for Joy, but let this trickling Blood  
Suffice instead of Tears.  Cord. 
O misery!  
To whom shall I complain, or in what Language?  
Forgive, O wretched Man, the Piety  
That brought thee to this pass, 'twas I that caused it,  
I cast me at thy Feet, and beg of thee  
To crush these weeping Eyes to equal Darkness,  
If that will give thee any recompense.  Edg. 
Was ever Season so distressed as This?  [Aside. Glost. 
I think Cordelia's Voice! rise, pious Princess,  
And take a dark Man's Blessing.  Cord. 
O, my Edgar,  
My virtue's now grown Guilty, works the Bane  
Of those that do befriend me, heaven forsakes me,  
And when you look that Way, it is but Just  
That you should hate me too.  Edg. 
O wave this cutting Speech, and spare to wound  
A Heart that's on the Rack.  Glost. 
No longer cloud thee, Kent, in that Disguise,  
There's business for thee and of noblest weight;  
Our injured Country is at length in Arms,  
Urged by the King's inhuman Wrongs and Mine,  
And only want a Chief to lead'em on.  
That Task be Thine.  Edg. 
Brave Britain's then there's Life in't yet.  [Aside. Kent. 
Then have we one cast for our Fortune yet.  
Come, Princess, I'll bestow you with the King,  
Then on the Spur to Head these Forces.  
Farewell, good Gloster, to our Conduct trust.  Glost. 
And be your Cause as prosperous as 'tis Just.  [Exeunt. Gonerill's Palace. Enter Gonerill, Attendants. Gon. 
It was great Ignorance Gloster's Eyes being out  
To let him live, where he arrives he moves  
All Hearts against us, Edmund I think is gone  
In pity to his Misery to dispatch him.  Gent. 
No, Madam, he's returned on speedy Summons  
Back to your Sister.  Gon. 
Ha! I like not That,  
Such speed must have the Wings of Love; where's Albany.  Gent. 
Madam, within, but never Man so changed;  
I told him of the uproar of the Peasants,  
He smiled at it, when I informed him  
Of Gloster's Treason—  Gon. 
Trouble him no further,  
It is his coward Spirit, back to our Sister,  
Hasten her Musters, and let her know  
I have given the Distaff into my Husband's Hands.  
That done, with special Care deliver these Dispatches  
In private to young Gloster.  Enter a Messenger. Mess. 
O Madam, most unseasonable News,  
The Duke of Cornwall's Dead of his late Wound,  
Whose loss your Sister has in part supplied,  
Making brave Edmund General of her Forces.  Gon. 
One way I like this well;  
But being Widow and my Gloster with her  
May blast the promised Harvest of our Love.  
A word more, Sir,— add Speed to your Journey,  
And if you chance to meet with that blind traitor,  
Preferment falls on him that cuts him off.  [Exeunt. Field SCENE. Gloster and Edgar. Glost. 
When shall we come to th'Top of that same Hill?  Edg. 
We climb it now, mark how we Labour.  Glost. 
Methinks the Ground is even.  Edg. 
Horrible Steep; hark, do you hear the Sea?  Glost. 
No truly.  Edg. 
Why then your other Senses grow imperfect,  
By your Eyes Anguish.  Glost. 
So may it be indeed.  
Methinks thy Voice is altered, and thou speakest  
In better Phrase and Matter than thou didst.  Edg. 
You are much deceived, in nothing am I altered  
But in my Garments.  Glost. 
Methinks you're better Spoken.  Edg. 
Come on, Sir, here's the Place, how fearful  
And dizy 'tis to cast one's Eyes so Low.  
The Crows and Choughs that wing the midway Air  
Show scarce so big as Beetles, half way down  
Hangs one that gathers Sampire, dreadful Trade!  
The fishermen that walk upon the Beach  
Appear like Mice, and yond tall Anch'ring bark  
Seems lessened to her Cock, her Cock a Buoy  
Almost too small for Sight; the murmuring Surge  
Cannot be heard so high, I'll look no more  
Lest my Brain turn, and the disorder make me  
Tumble down headlong.  Glost. 
Set me where you stand.  Edg. 
You are now within a Foot of th' extreme Verge.  
For all beneath the Moon I would not now  
Leap forward.  Glost. 
Let go my Hand,  
Here, Friend, is another Purse, in it a Jewel  
Well worth a poor Man's taking; get thee further,  
Bid me Farewell, and let me hear thee going.  Edg. 
Far you well, Sir,— that I do Trifle thus  
With this his Despair is with Design to cure it.  Glost. 
Thus, mighty Gods, this World I do renounce,  
And in your Sight shake my Afflictions off;  
If I could bear'em longer and not fall  
To quarrel with your great opposeless Wills,  
My Snuff and feebler Part ofNature should  
Burn itself out; if Edgar Live, O Bless him.  
Now, Fellow, far thee well.  Edg. 
Gone, Sir! Farewell.  
And yet I know not how Conceit may rob  
The Treasury ofLife, had he been where he thought,  
By this had Thought been past— Alive, or Dead?  
Hoa Sir, Friend; hear you, Sir, speak—  
Thus might he pass indeed— yet he revives.  
What are you, Sir?  Glost. 
Away, and let me Die.  Edg. 
Hadst thou been aught but Gosmore, Feathers, Air,  
Falling so many Fathom down  
Thou hadst shivered like an Egg; but thou dost breathe  
Hast heavy Substance, bleedst not, speakest, art sound;  
Thy Live's a Miracle.  Glost. 
But have I fallen or no?  Edg. 
From the dread Summet of this chalky Bourn:  
Look up an Height, the shrill-tuned Lark so high  
Cannot be seen, or heard; do but look up.  Glost. 
Alack, I have no Eyes.  
Is wretchedness deprived that Benefit  
To End itself by Death?  Edg. 
Give me your Arm.  
Up, so, how is't? feel you your Legs? you stand.  Glost. 
Too well, too well.  Edg. 
Upon the Crow o'th' Cliff, what Thing was that  
Which parted from you?  Glost. 
A poor unfortunate beggar.  Edg. 
As I stood here below, methought his Eyes  
Were two Full Moons, wide Nostrils breathing Fire.  
It was some Fiend, therefore thou happy Father,  
Think that th'all-powerful Gods who make them Honours  
Of men's Impossibilities have preserved thee.  Glost. 
'Tis wonderful; henceforth I'll bear Affliction  
Till it expire; the Goblin which you speak of,  
I took it for a Man: ofttimes 'twould say,  
The Fiend, the Fiend: He led me to that Place.  Edg. 
Bear free and patiented Thoughts: but who comes here?  Enter Lear, a Coronet of Flowers on his Head. Wreaths and Garlands about him. Lear. 
No, no, they cannot touch me for coining, I am the King Himself.  Edg. 
O piercing Sight.  Lear. 
Nature's above Art in that Respect; There's your Press-money: that Fellow handles his Bow like a cowkeeper,— draw me a Clothier's yard. A Mouse, a Mouse; peace hoa: there's my Gauntlet, I'll prove it on a Giant: bring up the brown Bills: O well flown Bird; i'th' White, i'th' White— Hewgh! give the Word.  Edg. 
Sweet Marjorum.  Lear. 
Pass.  Glost. 
I know that Voice.  Lear. 
Ha! goneril with a white Beard! they flattered me like a Dog, and told me I had white Hairs on my Chin, before the Black ones were there; to say I and No to every thing that I said, I and No too was no good Divinity. When the Rain came once to wet me, and the Winds to make me Chatter; when the Thunder would not Peace at my Bidding. There I find, there I smelt'em out; go too, they are not men of their words, They told me I was a King, 'tis a Lie, I am not Ague proof.  Glost. 
That Voice I well remember, is't not the King's?  Lear. 
I, every Inch a King, when I do Stare  
See how the Subject quakes.  
I pardon that Man's Life, what was the Cause?  
Adultery? Thou shalt not Die. Die for Adultery!  
The Wren goes to't, and the small gilded fly  
Engenders in my Sight: Let Copulation thrive,  
For Gloster's Bastard Son was kinder to his Father  
Than were my Daughters got i'th' lawful Bed.  
To't Luxury, pell mell, for I lack soldiers.  Glost. 
Not all my Sorrows passed so deep have touched me,  
As the sad Accents: Sight were now a Torment—  Lear. 
Behold that simp'ring Lady, she that starts  
At Pleasure's Name, and thinks her Ear profaned  
With the least wanton Word, would you believe it,  
The Fitcher nor the pampered Steed goes to't  
With such a riotous Appetite: down from the Wast they are Centaurs, though Women all Above; but to the Girdle do the Gods inherit, beneath is all the Fiends; There's Hell, there's Darkness, the Sulphurous unfathomed— Fie! fie! pah!— an Ounce of Civet, good Apothecary, to sweeten my Imagination— There's Money for thee.  Glost. 
Let me kiss that Hand.  Lear. 
Let we wipe it first; it smells of Mortality.  Glost. 
Speak, Sir; do you know me?  Lear. 
I remember thy Eyes well enough: Nay, do thy worst, blind Cupid, I'll not Love— read me this Challenge, mark but the penning of it.  Glost. 
Were all the Letters Suns I could not see.  Edg. 
I would not take this from Report: wretched Cordelia,  
What will thy virtue do when thou shalt find  
This fresh Affliction added to the Tale  
Of thy unparalleled Griefs.  Lear. 
Read.  Glost. 
What with this Case of Eyes?  Lear. 
O ho! are you there with me? no Eyes in your Head, and no money in your Purse? yet you see how this World goes.  Glost. 
I see it Feelingly.  Lear. 
What? art Mad? a Man may see how this World goes with no Eyes. Look with thy Ears, see how yond Justice rails on that simple Thief; shake'em together, and the first that drops, be it Thief or Justice, is a Villain.— Thou hast seen a Farmer's Dog bark at a Beggar.  Glost. 
I, Sir.  Lear. 
And the Man ran from the cur; there thou mightst behold the great Image of Authority, a Dog's obeyed in Office. Thou Rascal, Beadle, hold thy bloody Hand, why dost thou Lash that Strumpet? thou hotly Lust'st to enjoy her in that kind for which thou whipst her, do, do, the Judge that sentenced herhas been beforehand with thee.  Glost. 
How stiff is my vile Sense that yields not yet?  Lear. 
I tell thee the Usurer hangs the Couz'ner, through tattered Robes small Vices do appear, Robes and Fur-gowns hid All: Place Sins with Gold, why there 'tis for thee, my Friend, make much of it, it has the power to seal the Accuser's Lips. Get thee glass Eyes, and like a scurvy Politician, seem to see the Things thou dost not. Pull, pull off my Boots, hard, harder, so, so.  Glost. 
O Matter and Impertinency mixed  
Reason in Madness.  Lear. 
If thou wilt weep my Fortunes take my Eyes,  
I know thee well enough, thy Name is Gloster.  
Thou must be patiented, we came Crying hither  
Thou know'st, the first time that We taste the Air  
We Wail and Cry— I'll preach to thee, Mark.  Edg. 
Break labouring Heart.  Lear. 
When we are Born we Cry that we are come  
To this great Stage of Fools.—  Enter Two or Three Gentlemen. Gent. 
O here he is, lay hand upon him, Sir,  
Your dearest Daughter sends—  Lear. 
No Rescue? what, a Prisoner? I am even the natural Fool of Fortune: Use me well, you shall have ransom— let me have Surgeons, Oh I am cut to th' Brains.  Gent. 
You shall have any Thing.  Lear. 
No second? all myself? I will Die bravely like a smug Bridegroom, flushed and pampered as a Priest's Whore. I am a King, my Masters, know ye that?  Gent. 
You are a Royal one, and we Obey you.  Lear. 
It were an excellent Stratagem to Shoe a Troop of Horse with Felt, I'll put in proof— no Noise, no Noise— now will we steal upon these Sons in Law, and then— Kill, kill, kill, kill!  [Ex. Running. Glost. 
A Sight most moving in the meanest Wretch,  
Past speaking in a King. Now, good Sir, what are you?  Edg. 
A most poor Man made tame to Fortune's strokes,  
And prone to Pity by experienced Sorrows; give me your  
Hand.  Glost. 
You ever gentle Gods take my Breath from me,  
And let not my ill Genius tempt me more  
To Die before you please.  Enter Gonerill's Gentleman Usher. Gent. 
A proclaimed Prize, O most happily met,  
That Eye-less Head of thine was first framed Flesh  
To raise my Fortunes; Thou old unhappy traitor,  
The Sword is out that must Destroy thee.  Glost. 
Now let thy friendly Hand put Strength enough to it.  Gent. 
Wherefore, bold Peasant,  
Dar'st thou support a published traitor, hence,  
Lest I destroy Thee too. Let go his Arm.  Edg. 
‛ I'll not Let go Sir, without further 'Casion.  Gent. 
Let go Slave, or thou diest.  Edg. 
Good Gentleman go your Gate, and let poor Volk pass, and'chued ha' been swaggered out of my Life it would not a been so long as 'tis by a vortnight— Nay, an thou comest near th' old Man, I'ce try whether your Costard or my Ballow be th' harder.  Gent. 
Out, Dunghill.  Edg. 
‛ I'll pick your Teeth, Sir; Come, no matter vor your  
Voines.  Gent. 
Slave, thou hast Slain me; oh untimely Death.  Edg. 
I know thee well, a serviceable Villain,  
As duteous to the Vices of thy Mistress  
As Lust could wish.  Glost. 
What, is he Dead?  Edg. 
Sat you, Sir, and rest you.  
This is a Letter Carrier, and may have  
Some Papers of Intelligence that may stand  
Our Party in good stead, to know— what's here?  [Takes a Letter out of his Pocket, opens, and reads. 
To Edmund Earl of Glester.  
Let our Mutual Loves be remembered, you have many opportu nities to Cut him off, if he return the Conqueror than I am still a Prisoner, and his Bed my Goal, from the loathed Warmth of which deliver me, and supply the Place for your Labour.  
goneril.  
A Plot upon her Husband's Life,  
And the Exchange my Brother— hear i'th' Sands.  
I'll rake thee up thou Messenger ofLust,  
Grieved only that thou hadst no other deathsman.  
In Time and Place convenient I'll produce  
These Letters to the Sight of th' injured Duke  
As best shall serve our Purpose; Come, your Hand.  
Far off methinks I hear the beaten Drum,  
Come, Sir, I will bestow you with a Friend.  [Exeunt. A Chamber. Lear a Sleep on a Couch; Cordelia, and Attendants standing by him. Cord. 
His Sleep is sound, and may have good Effect  
To Cure his jarring Senses, and repair  
This Breach of Nature.  Phys. 
We have employed the utmost power of Art,  
And this deep Rest will perfect our Design.  Cord. 
O Regan, Gonerill, inhuman Sisters,  
Had he not been your Father, these white Hairs  
Had challenged sure some pity, was this a Face  
To be exposed against the jarring Winds?  
My Enemy's Dog though he had bit me should  
Have stood that Night against my Fire— he wakes, speak to him.  Gent. 
Madam, do you, 'tis fittest.  Cord. 
How does my royal Lord? how fares your Majesty?  Lear. 
You do me wrong to take me out o'th' Grave.  
Ha! is this too a World of Cruelty?  
I know my privilege, think not that I will  
Be used still like a wretched Mortal, no,  
No more of That.  Cord. 
Speak to me, Sir, who am I?  Lear. 
You are a Soul in Bliss, but I am bound  
Upon a wheel of Fire, which my own Tears  
Do scald like Molten led.  Cord. 
Sir, do you know me?  Lear. 
You are a Spirit, I know, where did you Die?  Cord. 
Still, still, far wide.  Phys. 
Madam, he's scarce awake; he'll soon grow more composed.  Lear. 
Where have I been? where am I? fair daylight!  
I am mightily abused, I should even Die with pity  
To see Another thus. I will not swear  
These are my Hands.  Cord. 
O look upon me, Sir,  
And hold your Hands in Blessing o'er me, nay,  
You must not kneel.  Lear. 
Pray do not mock me.  
I am a very foolish fond Old Man,  
Fourscore and upward, and to deal plainly with you,  
I fear I am not in my perfect Mind.  Cord. 
Nay, then farewell to patience; witness for me  
Ye mighty powers, I ne'er complained till now!  Lear. 
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 do I know  
Where I did Sleep last Night— pray do not mock me—  
For, as I am a Man, I think that Lady  
To be my Child Cordelia.  Cord. 
O my dear, dear Father!  Lear. 
Be your Tears wet? yes faith; pray do not weep,  
I know I have given thee Cause, and am so humbled  
With Crosses since, that I could ask  
Forgiveness of thee were it possible  
That thou couldst grant it, but I'm well assured  
Thou canst not; therefore I do stand thy Justice,  
If thou hast poison for me I will Drink it,  
Bless thee and Die.  Cord. 
O pity, Sir, a bleeding Heart, and cease  
This kill Language.  Lear. 
Tell me, friend's, where am I?  Gent. 
In your own Kingdom, Sir.  Lear. 
Do not Abuse me.  Gent. 
Be comforted, good Madam, for the Violence  
Of his distempers past; we'll lead him in  
Nor trouble him, till he is better settled.  
Wilt please you, Sir, walk into freer Air.  Lear. 
You must bear with me, I am Old and Foolish.  [They lead him off: Cord. 
The Gods restore you— hark, I hear afar  
The beaten Drum, Old Kent's a Man of's Word.  
O for an Arm  
Like the fierce Thunderer's, when th' earthborn Sons  
Stormed heaven, to fight this injured Father's Battle.  
That I could shift my Sex, and die me deep  
In his Opposer's Blood, but as I may  
With women's Weapons, Piety and prayers,  
I'll aid his Cause— You never-erring Gods  
Fight on his side, and Thunder on his Foes  
Such Tempest as his poor aged Head sustained;  
Your Image suffers when a Monarch bleeds.  
'Tis your own Cause, for that your Succours bring,  
Revenge yourselves, and right an injured King.  
End of the Fourth Act.   

ACT V.  SCENE, A Camp. Enter Gonerill and Attendants. Gon. 
OUR sister's powers already are arrived,  
And She herself has promised to prevent  
The Night with her Approach: have you provided  
The Banquet I bespoke for her Reception  
At my Tent?  Att. 
So, please your Grace, we have.  Gon. 
But thou, my Poysner, must prepare the Bowl  
That Crowns this Banquet, when our Mirth is high,  
The Trumpets sounding and the Flutes replying,  
Then is the Time to give this fatal Draught  
To this imperious Sister; if then our Arms succeed,  
Edmund more dear than Victory is mine.  
But if Defeat or Death itself attend me,  
'Twill charm my Ghost to think I've left behind me  [Trumpet. 
No happy Rival: hark, she comes.  [Exeunt. Enter Bastard in his Tent. Bast. 
To both these Sisters have I sworn my Love,  
Each jealous of the other, as the Stung  
Are of the Adder; neither can be held  
If both remain Alive; where shall I fix?  
Cornwall is Dead, and Regan's empty Bed  
Seems cast by Fortune for me, but already  
I have enjoyed her, and bright goneril  
With equal Charms brings dear variety,  
And yet untasted Beauty: I will use  
Her Husband's Countenance for the battle, then  
Usurp at once his Bed and Throne.  [Enter Officers. 
My trusty Scouts ye are well returned, have ye descried  
The Strength and Posture of the Enemy?  Off. 
We have, and were surprised to find  
The banished Kent returned, and at their Head;  
Your Brother Edgar on the Rear; Old Gloster  
(a moving Spectacle) led through their Ranks,  
Whose powerful Tongue, and more prevailing Wrongs,  
Have so enraged their rustic Spirits, that with  
Th' approaching Dawn we must expect their Battle.  Bast. 
You bring a welcome Hearing; Each to his Charge.  
Line well your Ranks and stand on your Award,  
To Night repose you, and i'th' Morn we'll give  
The Sun a Sight that shall be worth his Rising.  [Exeunt. SCENE, A Valley near the Camp. Enter Edgar and Gloster. Edg. 
Here, Sir, take you the shadow of this Tree  
For your good Host, pray that the Right may thrive:  
If ever I return to you again  
I'll bring you Comfort.  [Exit. Glost. 
Thanks; friendly Sir;  
The Fortune your good Cause deserves betid you.  An alarm, after which Gloster speaks. 
The Fight grows hot; the whole War's now at Work,  
And the gored Battle bleeds in every Vein,  
Whilst Drums and Trumpets drown loud Slaughter's Roar:  
Where's Gloster now that used to head the Fray,  
And scour the Ranks where deadliest Danger lay?  
Here like a Shepherd in a lonely Shade,  
Idle, unarmed, and listening to the Fight.  
Yet the disabled Courser, maimed and Blind,  
When to his Stall he hears the rattling War,  
Foaming with Rage tears up the battered Ground,  
And tugs for Liberty.  
No more of Shelter, thou blind Worm, but forth  
To th' open Field; the War may come this way  
And crush thee into Rest.— Here lay thee down  
And tear the Earth, that work befits a Mole.  
O dark Despair! when, Edgar, wilt thou come  
To pardon and dismiss me to the Grave!  [A Retreat sounded. 
Hark! a Retreat, the King has Lost or Won.  Re-enter Edgar, bloody. Edg. 
Away, old Man, give me your Hand, away!  
King Lear has loft, He and his Daughter ta'en,  
And this, ye Gods, is all that I can save  
Of this most precious Wreck: give me your Hand.  Glost. 
No farther, Sir, a Man may Rot even here.  Edg. 
What? in ill Thoughts again? Men must endure  
Their going hence even as their coming hither.  Glost. 
And that's true too.  [Exeunt. Flourish. Enter in Conquest, Albany, Gonerill, Regan, Bastard.— Lear, Kent, Cordelia prisoner's. Alb. 
It is enough to have conquered, Cruelty  
Should ne'er survive the Fight, Captain o'th' Guards  
Treat well your royal Prisoners till you have  
Our further Orders, as you hold our Pleasure.  Gon. 
Hark, Sir, not as you hold our husband's pleasure  [To the Captain aside. 
But as you hold your Life, dispatch your prisoners.  
Our Empire can have no sure Settlement  
But in their Death, the Earth that covers them  
Binds fast our Throne. Let me hear they are Dead.  Capt. 
I shall obey your Orders.  Bast. 
Sir, I approve it safest to pronounce  
Sentence of Death upon this wretched King,  
Whose Age has Charms in it, his Title more,  
To draw the Commons once more to his Side,  
'Twere best prevent—  Alb. 
Sir, by your Favour,  
I hold you but a Subject of this War,  
Not as a Brother.  Reg. 
That's as we list to Grace him.  
Have you forgot that He did lead our powers?  
Bore the Commission, of our Place and Person?  
And that Authority may well stand up  
And call itself your Brother.  Gon. 
Not so hot,  
In his own Merits he exalts himself  
More than in your Addition.  Enter Edgar, disguised. Alb. 
What art Thou?  Edg. 
Pardon me, Sir, that I presume to stop  
A Prince and conqueror, yet e'er you Triumph,  
Give Ear to what a Stranger can deliver  
Of what concerns you more than Triumph can.  
I do impeach your General there of Treason,  
Lord Edmund, that usurps the Name of Gloster,  
Of foulest Practice against your Life and Honour;  
This Charge is True, and wretched though I seem  
I can produce a Champion that will prove  
In single Combat what I do avouch;  
If Edmund dares but trust his Cause and Sword.  Bast. 
What will not Edmund dare, my Lord, I beg  
The favour that you'd instantly appoint  
The Place where I may meet this Challenger,  
Whom I will sacrifice to my wronged Fame,  
Remember, Sir, that injured Honour's nice  
And cannot brook delay.  Alb. 
Anon, before our Tent, i'th' Army's view,  
There let the Herald cry.  Edg. 
I thank your Highness in my Champion's Name,  
He'll wait your Trumpet's call.  Alb. 
Lead.  [Exeunt. Manent, Lear, Kent, Cordelia, guarded. Lear. 
O Kent, Cordelia!  
You are the only Pair that I e'er wronged,  
And the just Gods have made you Witnesses  
Of my Disgrace, the very shame of Fortune,  
To see me chained and shackled at these years!  
Yet were you but spectators of my Woes,  
Not fellow-sufferers, all were well!  Cord. 
This language, Sir, adds yet to our Affliction.  Lear. 
Thou, Kent, didst head the Troops that fought my battle,  
Exposed thy Life and Fortunes for a Master  
That had (as I remember) banished Thee.  Kent. 
Pardon me, Sir, that once I broke your Orders,  
Banished by you, I kept me here disguised  
To watch your Fortunes, and protect your Person,  
You know you entertained a rough blunt Fellow,  
One Cajus, and you thought he did you Service.  Lear. 
My trusty Cajus, I have lost him too!  [Weeps. 
'Twas a rough Honesty.  Kent. 
I was that Cajus,  
Disguised in that course Dress to follow you.  Lear. 
My Cajus too! Were't thou my trusty Cajus,  
Enough, enough—  Cord. 
Ah me, he faints! his Blood forsakes his Cheek,  
Help, Kent—  Lear. 
No, no, they shall not see us weep,  
We'll see them rot first,— Guards lead away to Prison,  
Come, Kent, Cordelia come,  
We Two will sit alone, like Birds i'th' Cage,  
When Thou dost ask me Blessing, I'll kneel down  
And ask of Thee Forgiveness; Thus we'll live,  
And Pray, and Sing, and tell old Tales, and Laugh  
At gilded butterflies, hear Sycophants.  
Talk of Court News, and we'll talk with them too,  
Who loses, and who wins, who's in, who's out,  
And take upon us the Mystery of Things  
As if we were heavens Spies.  Cord. 
Upon such Sacrifices  
The Gods themselves throw Incense.  Lear. 
Have I caught ye?  
He that parts us must bring a Brand from heaven.  
Together we'll out-toil the spite of Hell,  
And Die the Wonders of the World; A way.  [Exeunt, guarded. Flourish: Enter before the Tents, Albany, Gonerill, Regan, Guards and Attendants; goneril speaking apart to the Captain of the Guards entering. Gon. 
Here's Gold for Thee, Thou know'st our late Command  
Upon your prisoners Lives, about it straight, and at  
Our evening Banquet let it raise our Mirth  
To hear that They are Dead.  Capt. 
I shall not fail your Orders.  [Ex. Albany, Gon. Reg. take their Seats. Alb. 
Now, Gloster, trust to thy single virtue, for thy soldiers,  
All levied in my Name, have in my Name  
Took their Discharge; now let our Trumpets speak,  
And Herald read out This.  [Herald Reads. 
If any Man of Quality, within the Lists of the Army, will maintain upon Edmund, supposed Earl of Gloster, that he is a manifold traitor, let him appear by the third sound of the Trumpet; He is bold in his Defence.— again, Agen.  [Trumpet Answers from within. Enter Edgar, armed. Alb. 
Lord Edgar!  Bast. 
Ha! my Brother!  
This is the only Combatant that I could fear;  
For in my Breast gild Duels on his side,  
But, Conscience, what have I to do with Thee?  
Awe Thou thy dull Legitimate Slaves, but I  
Was born a Libertine, and so I keep me.  Edg. 
My noble Prince, a word— e'er we engage  
Into your highness' Hands I give this Paper,  
It will the truth of my Impeachment prove  
Whatever be my fortune in the Fight.  Alb. 
We shall peruse it.  Edg. 
Now, Edmund, draw thy Sword,  
That if my Speech has wronged a noble Heart,  
Thy Arm may do thee Justice: here i'th' presence  
Of this high Prince, these Queens, and this crowned List,  
I brand thee with the spotted name of traitor,  
False to thy Gods, thy Father and thy Brother,  
And what is more, thy Friend; false to this Prince:  
If then Thou sharest a spark of Gloster's virtue,  
Acquit thyself, or if Thou sharest his Courage,  
Meet this Defiance bravely.  Bast. 
And dares Edgar,  
The beaten routed Edgar, brave his conqueror?  
From all thy Troops and Thee, I forced the Field,  
Thou hast lost the gen'ral Stake, and art Thou now  
Come with thy petty single Stock to play  
This aftergame?  Edg. 
Half-blooded Man,  
Thy Father's Sin first, than his Punishment,  
The dark and vicious Place where he begot thee  
Cost him his Eyes: from thy licentious Mother  
Thou drawest thy villainy; but for thy part  
Of Gloster's Blood, I hold thee worth my Sword.  Bast. 
Thou bearest thee on thy Mother's Piety,  
Which I despise; thy Mother being chaste  
Thou art assured Thou art but Gloster's Son,  
But mine, disdaining Constancy, leaves me  
To hope that I am sprung from nobler Blood,  
And possibly a King might be my Sire:  
But be my Birth's uncertain Chance as 'twill,  
Who 'twas that had the hit to Father me  
I know not; 'tis enough that I am I:  
Of this one thing I'm certain— that I have  
A daring Soul, and so have at thy Heart  
Sound Trumpet.  [Fight, Bastard falls. Gon. and Reg. 
Save him, save him.  Gon. 
This was Practice, Gloster,  
Thou won'st the Field, and wast not bound to Fight  
A vanquished Enemy, Thou art not conquered  
But cozened and betrayed.  Alb. 
Shut your Mouth, Lady,  
Or with this Paper I shall stop it— hold, Sir,  
Thou worse than any Name, read thy own evil,  
No Tearing, Lady, I perceive you know it.  Gon. 
Say if I do, who shall arraign me for't?  
The Laws are Mine, not Thine.  Alb. 
Most monstrous! Ha', Thou knowst it too.  Bast. 
Ask me not what I know,  
I have not Breath to Answer idle Questions.  Alb. 
I have resolved— your Right, brave Sir, has conquered,  [To Edgar. 
Along with me, I must consult your Father.  [Ex. Albany and Edgar. Reg. 
Help every Hand to save a noble Life;  
My half o'th' Kingdom for a Man of Skill  
To stop this precious stream.  Bast. 
Away ye empirics,  
Torment me not with your vain Offices:  
The Sword has pierced too far; Legitimacy  
At last has got it.  Reg. 
The Pride of Nature Dies.  Gon. 
Away, the minutes are too precious,  
Disturb us not with thy impertinent Sorrow.  Reg. 
Art Thou my Rival then professed?  Gon. 
Why, was our Love a Secret? Could there be  
Beauty like Mine, and Gallantry like His  
And not a mutual Love? just Nature then  
Had erred: behold that Copy of Perfection,  
That Youth whose Story will have no foul Page  
But where it says he stooped to Regan's Arms:  
Which yet was but compliance, not Affection;  
A Charity to begging, ruined Beauty!  Reg. 
Who begged when goneril writ That? expose it  [Throws her a Letter. 
And let it be your Army's mirth, as 'twas  
This charming Youth's and mine, when in the bower  
He breathed the warmest ecstasies of Love,  
Then panting on my Breast, cried matchless Regan  
That goneril and Thou should e'er be Kin!  Gon. 
Die, Circe, for thy Charms are at an End,  
Expire before my Face, and let me see  
How well that boasted Beauty will become  
Congealing Blood and Death's convulsive Pangs.  
Die and be hushed, for at my Tent last Night  
Thou drank'st thy Bane, amidst thy reveling Bowls:  
Ha! dost thou Smile? is then thy Death thy Sport  
Or has the trusty Potion made thee Mad?  Reg. 
Thou comest as short of me in thy Revenge  
As in my Gloster's Love, my jealousy  
Inspired me to prevent thy feeble Malice  
And Poison Thee at thy own Banquet.  Gon. 
Ha!  Bast. 
No more, my Queens, of this untimely Strife,  
You both deserved my Love and both possessed it.  
Come, soldiers, bear me in; and let  
Your royal Presence grace my last minutes:  
Now, Edgar, thy proud Conquest I forgive;  
Who would not choose, like me, to yield his Breath  
T'have Rival Queens contend for him in Death?  [Exeunt. SCENE, A Prison. Lear asleep, with his Head on Cordelia's Lap. Cord. 
What Toils, thou wretched King, hast Thou endured  
To make thee draw, in Chains, a Sleep so sound?  
Thy better Angel charm thy ravished Mind  
With fancied Freedom; Peace is used to lodge  
On Cottage Straw, Thou hast the beggar's Bed,  
Therefore shouldst have the beggar's careless Thought.  
And now, my Edgar, I remember Thee,  
What Fate has seized Thee in this general Wreck  
I know not, but I know thou must be wretched  
Because Cordelia holds Thee Dear.  
O Gods! a sudden Gloom o'er-whelms me, and the Image  
Of Death overspreads the Place.— ha'! who are These?  Enter Captain and Officers with Cords. Capt. 
Now, Sirs, dispatch, already you are paid  
In part, the best of your Reward's to come.  Lear. 
Charge, charge upon their Flank, their last Wing haults;  
Push, push the battle, and the Day's our own.  
Their Ranks are broke, down, down with Albany.  
Who holds my Hands?— O thou deceiving Sleep,  
I was this very Minute on the chase;  
And now a Prisoner here— What mean the Slaves?  
You will not Murder me?  Cord. 
Help Earth and Heaven!  
For your Souls sake's, dear Sirs, and for the Gods.  Offic. 
No Tears, good Lady, no pleading against Gold and Preferment;  
Come, Sirs, make ready your Cords.  Cord. 
You, Sir, I'll seize,  
You have a humane Form, and if no prayers  
Can touch your Soul to spare a poor King's Life,  
If there be any Thing that you hold dear,  
By That I beg you to dispatch me First.  Capt. 
Comply with her Request, dispatch her First.  Lear. 
Off hellhounds, by the Gods I charge you spare her;  
'Tis my Cordelia, my true pious Daughter:  
No Pity?— Nay then take an old Man's Vengeance.  Snatches a partisan, and strikes down two of them; the rest quit Cordelia, and turn upon him. Enter Edgar and Albany. Edg. 
Death! Hell! Ye Vultures hold your impious Hands,  
Or take a speedier Death than you would give.  Capt. 
By whose Command?  Edg. 
Behold the Duke your Lord.  Alb. 
Guards, seize those Instruments of Cruelty.  Cord. 
My Edgar, Oh!  Edg. 
My dear Cordelia, Lucky was the Minute  
Of our Approach, the Gods have weighed our sufferings;  
W' are passed the Fire, and now must shine to Ages.  Gent. 
Look here, my Lord, see where the generous King  
Has slain Two of'em.  Lear. 
Did I not, Fellow?  
I've seen the Day, with my good biting falchion  
I could have made'em skip; I am Old now,  
And these vile Crosses spoil me; Out of Breath!  
Fie, Oh! quite out of Breath and spent.  Alb. 
Bring in old Kent, and, Edgar, guide you hither  
Your Father, whom you said was near,  [Ex. Edgar. 
He may be an earwitness at the least  
Of our proceed.  [Kent brought in here. Lear. 
Who are you?  
My Eyes are none o'th'best, I'll tell you straight;  
Oh Albany!. Well, Sir, we are your Captives,  
And you are come to see Death pass upon us.  
Why this Delay?— or is't your highness' pleasure  
To give us first the Torture? Say ye so?  
Why here's old Kent and I, as tough a Pair  
As e'er bore Tyrant's Stroke:— but my Cordelia,  
My poor Cordelia here, O pity!—  Alb. 
Take off their Chains— Thou injured Majesty,  
The Wheel of Fortune now has made her Circle,  
And Blessings yet stand 'twixt thy Grave and Thee.  Lear. 
Comest Thou, inhuman Lord, to soothe us back  
To a Fool's Paradise of Hope, to make  
Our Doom more wretched? go too, we are too well  
Acquainted with Misfortune to be gulled  
With Lying Hope; No, we will hope no more.  Alb. 
I have a Tale t' unfold so full of Wonder  
As cannot meet an easy Faith;  
But by that Royal injured Head 'tis True.  Kent. 
What would your Highness?  Alb. 
Know the noble Edgar  
Impeached Lord Edmund since the Fight, of Treason,  
And dared him for the Proof to single Combat,  
In which the Gods confirmed his Charge by Conquest;  
I left even now the traitor wounded Mortally.  Lear. 
And whither tends this Story?  Alb. 
E'er they fought  
Lord Edgar gave into my Hands this Paper,  
A blacker scroll of Treason, and of Lust  
Than can be found in the Records of Hell;  
There, Sacred Sir, behold the Character  
Of goneril the worst of Daughters, but  
More Vicious Wife.  Cord. 
Could there be yet Addition to their gild?  
What will not They that wrong a Father do?  Alb. 
Since than my Injuries, Lear, fall in with Thine:  
I have resolved the same Redress for Both.  Kent. 
What says my Lord?  Cord. 
Speak, for me thought I heard  
The charming Voice of a descending God.  Alb. 
The Troops by Edmnnd raised, I have disbanded;  
Those that remain are under my Command.  
What Comfort may be brought to cheer your Age  
And heal your savage Wrongs, shall be applied;  
For to your Majesty we do Refign  
Your Kingdom, save what Part yourself conferred  
On Us in Marriage.  Kent. 
Hear you that, my Liege?  Cord. 
Then there are Gods, and virtue is their Care.  Lear. 
Is't Possible?  
Let the Spheres stop their Course, the Sun make Hault,  
The Winds be hushed, the Seas and Fountains Rest;  
All Nature pause, and listen to the Change.  
Where is my Kent, my Cajus?  Kent. 
Here, my Liege.  Lear. 
Why I have News that will recall thy Youth;  
Ha! Didst Thou hear't, or did th' inspiring Gods  
Whisper to me Alone? Old Lear shall be  
A King again.  Kent. 
The Prince, that like a God has power, has said it.  Lear. 
Cordelia then shall be a Queen, mark that:  
Cordelia shall be Queen; Winds catch the Sound  
And bear it on your rosy Wings to heaven.  
Cordelia is a Queen.  Re-enter Edgar with Gloster. Alb. 
Look, Sir, where pious Edgar comes  
Leading his Eye-less Father: O my Liege!  
His wondrous Story will deserve your Leisure:  
What He has done and suffered for your Sake,  
What for the Fair Cordelia's.  Glost. 
Where is my Liege? Conduct me to his Knees to hail  
His second Birth of Empire; my dear Edgar  
Has, with himself, revealed the King's blessed Restauration.  Lear. 
My poor dark Gloster;  Glost. 
O let me kiss that once more sceptred Hand!  Lear. 
Hold, Thou mistak'st the Majesty, kneel here;  
Cordelia has our power, Cordelia's Queen.  
Speak, is not that the noble suffering Edgar?  Glost. 
My pious Son, more dear than my lost Eyes.  Lear. 
I wronged Him too, but here's the fair Amends.  Edg. 
Your leave, my Liege, for an unwelcome Message.  
Edmund (but that's a trifle) is expired;  
What more will touch you, your imperious daughter's  
goneril and haughty Regan, both are Dead,  
Each by the other poisoned at a Banquet;  
This, Dying, they confessed.  Cord. 
O fatal Period of ill-governed Life!  Lear. 
Ingrateful as they were, my Heart feels yet  
A Pang of Nature for their wretched Fall;—  
But, Edgar, I defer thy Joys too long:  
Thou serv'dst distressed Cordelia; take her crowned:  
Th'imperial Grace fresh Blooming on her Brow;  
Nay, Gloster, Thou hast here a Father's Right;  
Thv helping Hand t'heap Blessings on their Head.  Kent. 
Old Kent throws in his hearty Wishes too.  Edg. 
The Gods and You too largely recompense  
What I have done; the Gift strikes Merit Dumb.  Cord. 
Nor do I blush to own myself o'er paid  
For all my sufferings past.  Glost. 
Now, gentle Gods, give Gloster his Discharge.  Lear. 
No, Gloster, Thou hast Business yet for Life;  
Thou, Kent and I, retired to some cool Cell  
Will gently pass our short reserves of Time  
In calm Reflections on our fortune's past,  
Cheered with relation of the prosperous Reign  
Of this celestial Pair; Thus our Remains  
Shall in an even Course of Thought be past,  
Enjoy the present Hour, nor fear the Last.  Edg. 
Our drooping Country now erects her Head,  
Peace spreads her balmy Wings, and Plenty Blooms.  
Divine Cordelia, all the Gods can witness  
How much thy Love to Empire I prefer!  
Thy bright Example shall convince the World  
(Whatever Storms of Fortune are decreed)  
That Truth and virtue shall at last succeed.  [Ex. Omnes. 
FINIS.   

EPILOGUE,  Spoken by Mrs. BARRY. 

INconstancy, the reigning Sin o' th' Age,  
Will scarce endure true Lovers on the Stage;  
You hardly even in Plays with such dispense,  
And poets kill'em in their own Defence.  
Yet One bold Proof I was resolved to give,  
That I could three Hours Constancy outlive.  
You fear, perhaps, whilst on the Stage w' are made  
Such Saints, we shall indeed take up the Trade;  
Sometimes we Threaten— but our virtue may  
For Truth I fear with your Pit-Valour weigh:  
For (not to flatter either) I much doubt  
When We are off the Stage, and You are out,  
We are not quite so Coy, nor You so Stout.  
We talk of Nunn'ries— but to be sincere  
Whoever lives to see us cloistered There,  
May hope to meet our critics at Tangier.  
For shame give over this inglorious Trade  
Of worrying poets, and go maul th' Alcade.  
Well— since ye are All for blustering in the Pit,  
This Play's Reviver humbly does admit  
Your absolute power to damn his Part of it;  
But still so many Master-Touches shine  
Of that vast Hand that first laid this Design,  
That in great Shakespear's Right, He's bold to say  
If you like nothing you have seen to Day  
The Play your judgement damns, not you the Play.