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Who, by the art of known and feeling sorrows,
Am pregnant to good pity. Give me your hand,
I'll lead you to some biding.

Hearty thanks :
The bounty and the benizon of heaven
To boot, and boot!

Enter Steward.

his arm.


A proclaim'd prize! Most happy! That eyeless head of thine was first fram'd flesh To raise my fortunes.- Thou old unhappy traitor, Briefly thyself remember:C_The sword is out That must destroy thee. Glo.

Now let thy friendly hand Put strength enough to it.

[EDGAR opposes. Stew.

Wherefore, bold peasant,
Dar'st thou support a publish'd traitor? Hence;
Lest that the infection of his fortune take
Like hold on thee. Let

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 EDGAR knocks him down. Stew. Slave, thou hast slain me:-- Villain, take my

purse; -known and feeling sorrows,] i.e. Sorrows past and present.-WARBURTON. Briefly thyself remember :-) i. e. Quickly recollect the past offences of thy life, and recommend thyself to heaven.-WARBURTON.

go your gait,] Gang your gait is a common expression in the north.STEEVENS.

che vor’ye,] I warn you. Edgar counterfeits the western dialect.Johnson. - costard-] i. e. Head.

- ny bat-] i. e. Club, or staff. your foins.] To foin is to make what we call a thrust in fencing. Shakspeare often uses the word.--Steevens,

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 :-0, 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 :

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 unsanctifiedk 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.

i 0 undistinguished space of woman's will!] i.e. O undistinguishing licentiousness of a woman's inclinations!—STEEVENS.

k Thee I'll rake up, the post unsanctified, &c.] l'll cover thee. In Staffordshire, to rake the fire, is to cover it with fuel for the night. The epithet, unsanctified, refers to his want of burial in consecrated ground.-Johnson and STEEVENS.

Ideath-practis'd--] i.e. Whose death is machinated by practice or treason.-Johnsox.

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


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




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'er-paid.
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 prythee, 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 king?

[To the Physician. Phys. Madam, sleeps still.

Cor. O you kind gods,
Cure this great breach in his abused nature !

- ingenious feeling-] i.e. Feeling from an understanding not disturbed, but which, representing things as they are, makes the sense of pain the more exquisite.-WARBURTON. suited:] i. e. Dressed.

memories-] i.e. Remembrancers. my made intent :) i, e. My intent formed. VOL. VIII.

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The untun’d and jarring senses, 0, wind up
Of this child-chang'd father!

So please your majesty, That we may wake the king ? he hath slept long.

Cor. Be govern'd by your knowledge, and proceed l' 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. Cor.

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

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 ma-

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


to watch (poor perdu!) With this thin helm?j The allusion is to the forlom hope in an army, which are put upon desperate adventures, and called in French enfans perdus. With this thin helm ? i.e. this thin covering of hair.—WARBURTON and MALONE.

Had not concluded all.] i.e. It is wonder that thy wits and life at once had not all ended.-Johnson.

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 day-

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.

0, 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,
Pourscore 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.

No cause, no cause.
Lear. Am I in France?

In your own kingdom, sir. Lear. Do not abuse me.

Phys. Be comforted, good madam : the great rage, You see, is cur'd in him: and yet it is danger

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