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Lear. Charge, charge, upon the flank, the left
wing halts.

Pufh, push the battle, and the day's our own.
Their ranks are broken, down, down with Albany!
Who holds my hands ?-O thou deceiving fleep;
I was this very minute on the chace,

And now a pris'ner here!-What mean the
Slaves?

You will not murder me?

Card. Help, earth and heaven!

For your fouls fake, dear firs, and for the gods!
Offi. No tears, good lady;

Come, firs, make ready your cords.

Cord. You, fir, I'll seize,

You have a human form, and if no prayers
Can touch your foul to fpare 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 requeft; dispatch her firft. Lear. Off hell-hounds, 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 Sword, and kills two of them, the reft quit Cordelia, and turn upon him.

Enter Edgar, Albany, and Guards.

Edg. Death! hell! ye vultures, hold your impious hands,

Or take a speedier death than you wou'd give.
Alb. Guards, feize thofe inftruments of cruelty.
Gent. Look here, my lord, fee where the generous
King

Has flain two of 'em.

Lear. Did I not, Fellow?

I've feen the day, with my good biting faulchion
I cou'd have made 'em fkip: I am old now,
And these vile croffes fpoil me; out of breath;
Fie, oh! quite out of breath, and spent.

Alb

Alb. Bring in old Kent; and, Edgar, guide you

hither

Your father, whom you faid was near; [Ex. Edgar. He may be an ear-witness at the least

Of our proceedings.

Lear. Who are you?

[Kent brought in.

My eyes are none o'th' beft, I'll tell you straight:
Oh Albany! Well, fir, we are your captives,
And you are come to fee death pass upon us.
Why this delay?—Or is't your highness' pleasure
To give us firft the torture? fay ye fo?
Why here's old Kent and I, as tough a pair
As e'er bore tyrant's ftroke.-But, my Cordelia,
My poor Cordelia here, O pity her!

Alb. Thou injur'd Majefty,

The wheel of fortune now has made her circle, And bleffings yet stand 'twixt the grave and thee, Lear. Com'ft thou, inhuman lord, to footh us back

To a fool's paradife of hope, to make

Our doom more wretched? Go to, we are too well
Acquainted with misfortune, to be gull'd
With lying hope; no, we will hope no more.
Alb. Know, the noble Edgar

Impeach'd lord Edmund, fince the fight, of treason,
And dar'd him for the proof to fingle combat,
In which the gods confirm'd his charge by con-
queft;

I left ev'n now the traitor wounded mortally.
Lear. And whither tends this ftory?
Alb. Ere they fought,

Lord Edgar gave into my hands this paper;
A blacker fcroll of treafon and of luft
Than can be found in the records of hell;
There, facred fir, behold the character
Of Gonerill, the worst of daughters, but
More vicious wife.

Cor. Cou'd there be yet addition to their guilt! What will not they that wrong a father do?

6

Alb.

Alb. Since then my injuries, Lear, fall in with thine,

I have refolv'd the fame redress for both.

Kent. What fays my lord?

Cor. Speak, for methought I heard The charming voice of a defcending god.

Alb. The troops, by Edmund rais'd, I have difbanded;

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Those that remain are under my command.

What comfort may be brought to chear your age, And heal your favage wrongs, fhall be apply'd; For to your majefty, we do refign

Your kingdom, fave what part yourself conferr'd On us in marriage.

Kent. Hear you that, my liege?

Cor. Then there are gods, and virtue is their

care.

Lear. Is't poffible?

Let the fpheres ftop their course, the fun make halt,
The winds be hufh'd, the feas and fountains reft;
All nature paufe, and liften to the change.
Where is my Kent, my Caius?

Kent. Here, my liege.

Lear. Why I have news that will recall thy youth: Ha! didft thou hear't, or did th' infpiring gods Whifper to me alone? old Lear shall be A king again.

Alb. Thy captive daughter too, the wife of
France,

Unranfom'd we enlarge, and fhall, with speed,
Give her fafe convoy to her royal husband.

:

Lear. Cordelia then is Queen again. Mark that!

Winds, catch the found,

And bear it on your rofy wings to heav'n:
Cordelia's ftill a Queen.

Re-enter Edgar with Glocefter.

Alb. Look, fir, where pious Edgar comes, Leading his eyelefs Father.

Gle.

Glo. Where's my liege? conduct me to his knees, to hail

His fecond birth of empire: my dear Edgar
Has with himself reveal'd the king's bleft reftauration.
Lear. My poor dark Glo'ster!

Glo. O let me kifs that once more scepter'd hand!
Lear. Speak, is not that the noble fuff'ring Edgar?
Glo. My pious fon, more dear than my loft eyes.
Edg. Your leave, my liege, for an unwelcome
meffage.

Edmund (but that's a trifle) is expir'd.

What more will touch you, your imperious daughters,
Gonerill and haughty Regan, both are dead,
Each by the other poifon'd at a banquet :
This, dying, they confefs'd.

Cord. O fatal period of ill-govern'd life!
Lear. Ingrateful as they were, my heart feels yet
A pang of nature for their wretched fall.

Glo. Now, gentle gods, give Glo'fter his discharge. Lear. No, Glo'fter, thou haft bufinefs yet for life; Thou, Kent, and I, in fweet tranquillity Will gently pass the evening of our days; Thus will we talk, and tell old tales, and laugh At gilded butterflies: and our remains Shall in an even course of thoughts be pafs'd. My child, Cordelia, all the gods can witness How much thy truth to empire I prefer! Thy bright example fhall convince the world. (Whatever ftorms of fortune are decreed) That Truth and Virtue fhall at last fucceed.

[Exeunt Omnes.

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