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Edg. Chill not let go, zir, without vurther 'casion. Stew. Let go, slave, or thou diest.

Edg. Good gentleman, go your gait, and let poor volk pass. And ch'ud ha' been zwagger'd out of my life, 'twould not ha' been zo long as 'tis by a vortnight. Nay, come not near the old man; keep out, che vor'ye, or ise try whether your costard or my bat be the harder: Ch'ill be plain with you.

Stew. Out, dunghill!

Edg. Ch'ill pick your teeth, zir: Come; no matter vor your foins. [They fight; and Edg. knocks him down. Stew. Slave, thou hast slain me:-Villain, take my purse;

If ever thou wilt thrive, bury my body;

And give the letters, which thou find'st about me,
To Edmund earl of Gloster; seek him out

Upon the British party;- -O, untimely death! [Dies.
Edg. I know thee well: A serviceable villain;

As duteous to the vices of thy mistress,

As badness would desire.


What, is he dead?

Edg. Sit you down, father; rest you.—

Let's see his pockets: these letters, that he speaks of,
May be my friends.-He's dead; I am only sorry
He had no other death's-man.-Let us see:-
Leave, gentle wax; and, manners, blame us not:
To know our enemies' minds, we'd rip their hearts;
Their papers, is more lawful.

[Reads] Let our reciprocal vows be remembered. You have many opportunities to cut him off: if your will want not, time and place will be fruitfully offered. There is nothing done, if he return the conqueror: Then am I the prisoner, and his bed my gaol; from the loathed warmth whereof deliver me, and supply the place for your labour.

Your wife (so I would say), and your affectionate servant, GONERIL.

O undistinguish'd space of woman's will!

A plot upon her virtuous husband's life:

And the exchange, my brother!-Here, in the sands,

Thee I'll rake up, the post unsanctified
Of murderous lechers: and, in the mature time,
With this ungracious paper strike the sight
Of the death-practis'd duke: For him 'tis well,
That of thy death and business I can tell.

[Exit Edgar, dragging out the Body. Glo. The king is mad: How stiff is my vile sense, That I stand up, and have ingenious feeling

Of my huge sorrows! Better I were distract:
So should my thoughts be sever'd from my griefs;
And woes, by wrong imaginations, lose
The knowledge of themselves.


Re-enter EDGAR,

Give me your hand:

Far off, methinks, I hear the beaten drum.
Come, father, I'll bestow you with a friend. [Exeunt.

SCENE VII. A Tent in the French Camp.

LEAR on a Bed, asleep; Physician, Gentleman, and others, attending; Enter CORDELIA and KENT. Cor. O thou good Kent, how shall I live, and work, To match thy goodness? My life will be too short, And every measure fail me.

Kent. To be acknowledg'd, madam, is o'erpaid. All my reports go with the modest truth;

Nor more, nor clipp'd, but so.


Be better-suited:

These weeds are memories of those worser hours;

I pr'ythee, put them off.


Pardon me, dear madam;

Yet to be known, shortens my made intent:
My boon I make it, that you know me not,

Till time and I think meet.

Cor. Then be it so, my good lord.-How does the


Phys. Madam, sleeps still.

Cor. O you kind gods,

[To the Physician.

Cure this great breach in his abused nature!

The untun'd and jarring senses, O, wind up
Of this child-changed father!

Phys. So please your majesty, That we may wake the king? he hath slept long. Cor. Be govern'd by your knowledge, and proceed I'the sway of your own will. Is he array'd?

Gent. Ay, madam; in the heaviness of his sleep, We put fresh garments on him.

Phys. Be by, good madam, when we do awake him; I doubt not of his temperance.


Very well. Phys. Please you, draw near.-Louder the music


Cor. O my dear father! Restoration, hang Thy medicine on my lips; and let this kiss Repair those violent harms, that my two sisters Have in thy reverence made!


Kind and dear princess!
Cor. Had you not been their father, these white flakes
Had challeng'd pity of them. Was this a face
To be expos'd against the warring winds?
To stand against the deep dread-bolted thunder?
In the most terrible and nimble stroke

Of quick, cross lightning? to watch (poor perdu!)
With this thin helm? Mine enemy's dog,

Though he had bit me, should have stood that night
Against my fire; And wast thou fain, poor father,
To hovel thee with swine, and rogues forlorn,
In short and musty straw? Alack, alack!
"Tis wonder, that thy life and wits at once
Had not concluded all. He wakes; speak to him.
Phys. Madam, do you; 'tis fittest.

Cor. How does my royal lord? How fares your majesty?

Lear. You do me wrong, to take me out o'the grave:Thou art a soul in bliss; but I am bound

Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears

Do scald like molten lead.


Sir, do you know me?

Lear. You are a spirit, I know; When did you die?

Cor. Still, still, far wide!

Phys. He's scarce awake; let him alone awhile.
Lear. Where have I been?-Where am I?-Fair

I am mightily abus'd.-I should even die with pity,
To see another thus.-I know not what to say.-
I will not swear, these are my hands:-let's see;
I feel this pin prick. 'Would I were assur'd
Of my condition.


O, look upon me, sir,
And hold your hands in benediction o'er me:-
No, sir, you must not kneel.


Pray, do not mock me:

I am a very foolish fond old man,

Fourscore and upward; and, to deal plainly,

I fear, I am not in my perfect mind.

Methinks, I should know you, and know this man :
Yet I am doubtful: for I am mainly ignorant
What place this is; and all the skill I have
Remembers not these garments; nor I know not
Where I did lodge last night: Do not laugh at me;
For, as I am a man, I think this lady

To be my child Cordelia.


And so I am, I am.

Lear. Be your tears wet? Yes, 'faith. I pray, weep


If you have poison for me, I will drink it.
I know, you do not love me; for your sisters
Have, as I do remember, done me wrong:
You have some cause, they have not.


Lear. Am I in France?

Lear. Do not abuse me.

You see,

No cause, no cause.

In your own kingdom, sir.

Phys. Be comforted, good madam: the great rage, is cur'd in him: and yet it is danger To make him even o'er the time he has lost. Desire him to go in; trouble him no more, Till further settling.

Cor. Will't please your highness walk?


You must bear with me:

Pray now, forget and forgive: I am old, and foolish. [Exeunt Lear, Cordelia, Physician, and Attendants. Gent. Holds it true, sir,

That the duke of Cornwall was so slain?


Most certain, sir.

Gent. Who is conductor of his people?


The bastard son of Gloster.


As 'tis said,

They say, Edgar,

His banish'd son, is with the earl of Kent

In Germany.


Report is changeable.

"Tis time to look about; the powers o'the kingdoin

Approach apace.

Gent. The arbitrement is like to be a bloody.

Fare you well, sir.



Kent. My point and period will be throughly wrought, Or well, or ill, as this day's battle's fought.

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