on his knees to beg pardon of his child; and she, good lady, kneeling all the while to ask a blessing of him, and telling him that it did not become him to kneel, but it was her duty, for she was his child, his true and very child Cordelia! And she kissed him (as she said) to kiss away all her sisters' unkindness, and said that they might be ashamed of themselves, to turn their old kind father with his white beard out into the cold air, when her enemy's dog, though it had bit her (as she prettily expressed it), should have staid by her fire such a night as that, and warmed himself. And she told her father how she had come from France with purpose to bring him assistance; and he said that she must forget and forgive, for he was old and foolish, and did not know what he did; but that to be sure she had great cause not to love him, but her sisters had none. And Cordelia said, that she had no cause, no more than they had.

So we will leave this old king in the protection of this dutiful and loving child, where, by the help of sleep and medicine, she and her physicians at length succeeded in winding up the untuned and jarring senses which the cruelty of his other daughters had so violently shaken. Let us return to say a word or two about those cruel daughters.

These monsters of ingratitude, who had been so false to their old father, could not be expected to prove more faithful to their own husbands. They soon grew tired of paying even the appearance of duty and affection, and in an open way showed they had fixed their loves upon another. It happened that the object of their guilty loves was the same. It was Edmund, a natural son of the late earl of Gloucester, who by his treacheries had succeeded in disinheriting his brother Edgar, the lawful heir, from his earldom, and by his wicked practices was now earl himself; a wicked man, and a fit object for the love of such wicked creatures as Goneril and Regan. It falling out about this time that the duke of Cornwall, Regan's husband, died, Regan immediately declared her intention of wedding this earl of Gloucester, which rousing the jealousy of her sister, to whom as well as to

Regan this wicked earl had at sundry times professed love, Goneril found means to make away with her sister by poison; but being detected in her practices, and imprisoned by her husband the duke of Albany for this deed, and for her guilty passion for the earl which had come to his ears, she, in a fit of disappointed love and rage, shortly put an end to her own life. Thus the justice of Heaven at last overtook these wicked daughters.

While the eyes of all men were upon this event, admiring the justice displayed in their deserved deaths, the same eyes were suddenly taken off from this sight to admire at the mysterious ways of the same power in the melancholy fate of the young and virtuous daughter, the lady Cordelia, whose good deeds did seem to deserve a more fortunate conclusion: but it is an awful truth, that innocence and piety are not always successful in this world. The forces which Goneril and Regan had sent out under the command of the bad earl of Gloucester were victorious, and Cordelia, by the practices of this wicked earl, who did not like that any should stand between him and the throne, ended her life in prison. Thus, Heaven took this innocent lady to itself in her young years, after showing her to the world an illustrious example of filial duty. Lear did not long survive this kind child.

Before he died, the good earl of Kent, who had still attended his old master's steps from the first of his daughters' ill usage to this sad period of his decay, tried to make him understand that it was he who had followed him under the name of Caius; but Lear's care-crazed brain at that time could not comprehend how that could be, or how Kent and Caius could be the same person: so Kent thought it needless to trouble him with explanations at such a time; and Lear soon after expiring, this faithful servant to the king, between age and grief for his old master's vexations, soon followed him to the grave.a

How the judgment of Heaven overtook the bad earl of Gloucester, whose treasons were discovered, and him

a Extract II

self slain in single combat with his brother, the lawful earl; and how Goneril's husband, the duke of Albany, who was innocent of the death of Cordelia, and had never encouraged his lady in her wicked proceedings against her father, ascended the throne of Britain after the death of Lear, is needless here to narrate; Lear and his Three Daughters being dead, whose adventures alone concern our story.

EXTRACTS FROM SHAKSPERE.

I.

ACT II.-SCENE IV.

Enter CORNWALL, REGAN, GLOSTER, and Servants.

Lear. Good morrow to you both.

Corn.

Hail to your grace

[KENT is set at liberty.

Reg. I am glad to see your highness.

[To KENT.

Lear. Regan, I think you are; I know what reason
I have to think so; if thou shouldst not be glad,
I would divorce me from thy mother's tomb,
Sepulch'ring an adultress.-O, are you free?
Some other time for that.-Beloved Regan,
Thy sister 's naught: O Regan, she hath tied
Sharp-tooth'd unkindness, like a vulture, here,-

[Points to his heart.

I can scarce speak to thee: thou 'lt not believe,
With how deprav'd a quality-O Regan!

Reg. I pray you, sir, take patience; I have hope
You less know how to value her desert,

Than she to scant her duty.a

Lear.

Say, how is that?

Reg. I cannot think my sister in the least
Would fail her obligation: If, sir, perchance,
She have restrain'd the riots of your followers,
'Tis on such ground, and to such wholesome end,
As clears her from all blame.

Lear. My curses on her!

Reg.

O, sir, you are old;

Nature in you stands on the very verge

■ The construction here is involved, but the meaning is evident, You less know how to value ber desert than she knows to scant her duty.

Of her confine: you should be rul'd and led
By some discretion, that discerns your state
Better than you yourself: Therefore, I pray you,
That to our sister you do make return:

Say, you have wrong'd her.

Lear.

Ask her forgiveness?

Do you but mark how this becomes the house ?a
"Dear daughter, I confess that I am old
Age is unnecessary: on my knees I beg,

That you 'Il vouchsafe me raiment, bed, and food."
Reg. Good sir, no more; these are unsightly tricks :
Return you to my sister.

Lear.

Never, Regan:
She hath abated me of half my train;

Look'd black upon me; strook me with her tongue,
Most serpent-like, upon the very heart:-

All the stor❜d vengeances of heaven fall

On her ingrateful top! Strike her young bones,
You taking airs, with lameness!

Corn.

Fye, sir, fye!
Lear. You nimble lightnings, dart your blinding flames
Into her scornful eyes! Infect her beauty,

You fen-suck'd fogs, drawn by the powerful sun,
To fall and blister.

Reg.

O the blest gods!

So will you wish on me, when the rash mood 's on.
Lear. No, Regan, thou shalt never have my curse;
Thy tender-hefted nature shall not give

Thee o'er to harshness; her eyes are fierce, but thine
Do comfort, and not burn: "T is not in thee

To grudge my pleasures, to cut off my train,
To bandy hasty words, to scant my sizes,
And, in conclusion, to oppose the bolt
Against my coming in: thou better know'st
The offices of nature, bond of childhood,
Effects of courtesy, dues of gratitude;

a The house. Capell says, "This is one of the lines that mark Shakspere: . the house is an expression worthy his genius: fathers are not the heads only of a house or a family, but its representatives; they are the house, what affects them affects the rest of its body."

b Tender-hefted. Heft-haft, is that which is haved-held; and thus, thy tender-hefted nature may be thy nature which may be held by tenderness.

• Sizes-allowances. A sizar in a college is one to whom certain sizes or portions are allowed.