Cord. Speak to me, Sir; whom am I?

Lear. You are a Soul in Bliss; but I am bound
Upon a Wheel of Fire, which my own Tears
Do fcald like molten Lead.

Cord. Sir, do you know me?

Lear. You are a Spirit, I know; where did you die? Cord. Still, fill, far wide.

(compos'd Phyf. Madam, he's fcarce awake; he'll foon grow more Lear. Where have I been? Where am I? Fair DayI am mightily abus'd, I fhou'd even die with Pity (Light! To fee another thus. I will not fwear

These are my Hands.

Cord. O look upon me, Sir,

And hold your Hands in Bleffing over me; nay,
You must not kneel.

Lear. Pray do not mock me.

I am a very foolish fond old Man,

Fourfcore and upward; and to deal plainly with you,
I fear I am not in my perfect Mind.

Cord. Nay, then farewell to Patience: Witnefs for me, Ye mighty Pow'rs, I ne'er complain'd 'till now!

Lear. Methinks I fhou'd 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 thefe Garments; nor do I know

Where I did fleep laft 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 giv'n thee Caufe, and am fo humbled With Croffes fince, that I cou'd ask

Forgiveness of thee, were it poffible

That thou cou'dft grant it; but I'm well affur'd
Thou can'ft not; therefore I do ftand thy Juftice:
If thou haft Poifon for me I will drink it,

Bless thee, and die.

Cord. O pity, Sir, a bleeding Heart, and cease. This killing Language.

Lear. Tell me, Friends, where am I?

Gent. In your own Kingdom, Sir.

Lear

Lear. Do not abuse me.

Gent. Be comforted, good Madam, for the Violence
Of his Distemper's paft; we'll lead him in,
Nor trouble him, 'till he is better fettled.
Wil't 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.
Oh! for an Arm

Like the fierce Thunderer's, when the Earth-born Sons
Storm'd Heav'n, to fight this injur'd Father's Battle!
That I cou'd fhift my Sex, and dye me deep
In his Oppofer's Blood! But as I may,
With Womens Weapons, Piety and Pray'rs,
I'll aid his Caufe.- -You never erring Gods
Fight on his Side, and thunder on his Foes
Such Tempests as his poor ag'd Head sustain'd.
Your Image fuffers when a Monarch bleeds.
'Tis your own Caufe, for that your Succours bring,
Revenge yourselves, and right an injur'd King.

End of the Fourth Act.

Gon.

ACT V.

SCENE, A Camp.

Enter Goneril and Attendants.

UR Sifter's Pow'rs already are arriv'd,
And the herself has promis'd to prevent
The Night with her Approach: Have
you provided
The Banquet I bespoke for her Recepti-
At my Tent?

(on

Att. So, please your Grace, we have.

Gon. But thou, my Prifoner, muft prepare the Bow! That crowns this Banquet; when our Mirth is high, The Trumpets founding, and the Flutes replying, Then is the Time to give this fatal Draught To this Imperious Sifter; if then our Arms fucceed, 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 No happy Rival. Heark, fhe comes. [Trumpet. [Exeunt. Enter Baftard in his Tent.

Baft. To both these Sifters have I fworn my Love,
Each jealous of the other, as the Stung

Are of the Adder; neither can be held
If both remain alive; where fhall I fix ?
Cornwal is dead, and Regan's empty Bed
Seems caft by Fortune for me, but already
I have enjoy'd her, and bright Goneril
With equal Charms brings dear Variety,
And yet untafted Beauty: I will use

Her Husband's Countenance for the Battle, then
Ufurp at once his Bed and Throne.

[Enter Officers My trully Scouts y'are well return'd; have ye defcry'd The Strength and Pofture of the Enemy?

Off. We have, and were furpris'd to find The banifh'd Kent return'd, and at their Head; Your Brother Edgar on the Rear; old Glofter (A moving Spectacle) led through their Ranks, Whofe pow'rful Tongue, and more prevailing Wrongs, Have fo enraged their ruftick Spirit, that with Th' approaching Dawn we mult expect their Battle. Baft. You bring a welcome Hearing; each to his Charge, Line well your Ranks, and ftand on your Award. To Night repofe you; i'th' Morn we'll give The Sun a Sight that shall be worth his rifing.

[Exeunt.

SCENE, a Valley near the Camp.

Enter Edgar and Glofter.

Edg. Here, Sir, you take the Shadow of this Tree

For

For your good Hoft; pray that the Right may thrive :

If ever I return to you again,

I'll bring you Comfort.

Gloft. Thanks, friendly Sir;

The Fortune your good Caufe deferves betide you.
An Alarm; after which Glofter Speaks.

[Exit.

The Fight grows hot; the whole War's now at work,
And the goar'd Battle bleeds in every Vein,

Whilft Drums and Trumpets drown loud Slaughter's Roar.,
Where's Glofter now, that us'd to head the Fray,
And fcour the Ranks where deadlieft Danger lay?
Here, like a Shepherd, in a lonely Shade,
Idle, unarm'd, and liftening to the Fight;
Yet the difabled Courfer, maim'd and blind,
When to the Stall he hears the rattling War,
Foaming with Rage, tears up the batter'd 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 Reft.- Here lie 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 Heark! A Retreat, the King has loft, or won. [founded. 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 fave

Of this most precious Wreck; give me your Hand.

Gloft. No farther, Sir; a Man may rot, even here. Edg. What! In ill Thoughts again? Men muft enTheir going hence, ev'n as their coming hither. (dure Gloft. And that's true too. [Exeunt. Flourish. Enter in Conqueft, Albany, Goneril, Regan, Baftard. - Lear, Kent, Cordelia, Prifoners. Alb. It is enough to have conquer'd, Cruelty Shou'd ne'er furvive the Fight. Captain o'th' Guards, Treat well your royal Prisoners, 'till you have Our farther Orders, as you hold our Pleasure.

Gon. Heark! Sir, not as you hold our Husband's Pleafure, [To the Captain afide.

But

But as you hold your Life, difpatch your

Our Empire can have no fure Settlement

Pris'ners.

But in their Death; the Earth that covers them
Binds faft our Throne. Let me hear they are dead.
Capt. I fhall obey your Orders.

Baft. Sir, I approve it fafeft 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 beft prevent-

Alb. Sir, by your Favour,

I hold you but a Subject of this War,
Not as a Brother.

Regan. That's as we lift to grace him.
Have you forgot that he did lead our Pow'rs;
Bore the Commiffion of our Place and Person?
And that Authority may well stand up,
And call itfelf your Brother.

Gon. Not fo hot,

In his own Merits he exalts himself

More than in your Addition.

Enter Edgar difguis'd.

Alb. What art thou?

Edg. Pardon me, Sir, that I prefume to ftop
A Prince and Conqueror, yet 'ere 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 ufurps the Name of Glofter,
Of fouleft Practice 'gainst your Life and Honour;
This Charge is true: and wretched though I feem,
I can produce a Champion that will prove

In fingle Combat what I do avouch,

If Edmund dares but truft his Caufe and Sword.

Baft. What will not Edmund dare! My Lord, I beg The Favour that you'd inftantly appoint

The Place where I may meet this Challenger,
Whom I will facrifice to my wrong'd Fame :
Remember, Sir, that injur'd Honour's nice,
And cannot brook Delay.

Alb. Anon, before our Tent, i' th' Army's View, There let the Herald cry.

Edg.