That I ftand up, and have ingenious feeling
Of my huge forrows! Better I were distract:
So fhould my thoughts be fever'd from my griefs;
And woes, by wrong imaginations, lofe

The knowledge of themselves.

Re-enter EDGAR.

Edg.

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, afleep; Phyfician, Gentleman, and Others, attending: Enter CORDELIA and KENT.

Cor. O thou good Kent, how fhall 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'erpay'd. All my reports go with the modest truth;

Nor more, nor clipp'd, but so.

Cor.

Be better fuited:

These weeds are memories of those worfer hours;

I pr'ythee put them off.

Kent.

Pardon me, dear madam;

Yet to be known, fhortens my made intent :

My boon I make it, that you know me not,

Till time and I think meet.

Cor. Then be it fo, my good lord.-How does the king?

Phyf. Madam, fleeps ftill.

Cor. O you kind gods,

[to the Phyfician.

H

Cure

Cure this great breach in his abused nature!
The untun'd and jarring fenfes, O, wind up
Of this child-changed father!

Phyf. 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 fway of your own will. Is he array'd?

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

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

Cor.

Very well.

Phyf. Please you, draw near. Louder the mufick there.

Cor. O my dear father! Restoration, hang

Thy medicine on my lips; and let this kifs
Repair thofe violent harms, that my two fifters
Have in thy reverence made!

Kent.

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, crofs 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 waft thou fain, poor father,
To hovel thee with fwine, and rogues forlorn,
In short and mufty ftraw? Alack,*alack!
'Tis wonder, that thy life and wits at once
Had not concluded all. He wakes; fpeak to him.
Phyf. 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 foul in blifs; but I am bound
Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears
Do fcald like molten lead.

Cor.

Sir, do you know me?

Lear. You are a fpirit, I know; When did you die? Cor. Still, ftill, far wide!

Phyf. He's fcarce awake; let him alone awhile.

Lear. Where have I been? Where am I?-Fair daylight?

I am mightily abus'd.—I should even die with pity,
To fee another thus.-I know not what to fay.-
I will not fwear, these are my hands :-let's fee;
I feel this pin prick. 'Would I were affur'd

Of

my

condition.

Cor.

O, look upon me, fir,

And hold your hands in benediction o'er me :

No, fir, 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,

I fear, I am not in my perfect mind.

Methinks, I fhould 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.

If

Cor.

And fo I am, I am.

Lear. Be your tears wet? Yes, 'faith. I pray, weep not: you have poifon for me, I will drink it.

I know, you do not love me; for your fifters
Have, as I do remember, done me wrong:

You have fome caufe, they have not.

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

To make him even o'er the time he has loft.
Defire him to go in; trouble him no more,
Till further fettling.

Cor. Will't please your highness walk ?

Lear.

You must bear with me:

Pray now, forget and forgive: I am old, and foolish.

[Exeunt LEAR, CORDELIA, Phyfician, and At

tendants.

Gent. Holds it true, fir,

That the duke of Cornwall was fo flain?

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

'Tis time to look about; the powers o' the kingdom

Approach apace.

Gent. The arbitrement is like to be a bloody.

Fare you well, fir.

[Exit.

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

[Exit.

ACT

ACT V. SCENE I.

The Camp of the British Forces, near Dover.

Enter, with drums and colours, EDMUND, REGAN, Officers, Soldiers, and Others.

Edm. Know of the duke, if his last purpose hold;
Or, whether fince he is advis`d by aught

To change the course: He's full of alteration,
And felf-reproving: bring his constant pleasure.

[To an Officer, who goes out.

Reg. Our fifter's man is certainly miscarried.
Edm. 'Tis to be doubted, madam.

Reg.
Now, fweet lord,
You know the goodness I intend upon you :
Tell me, but truly,-but then speak the truth,
Do you not love my fifter?

Edm.

In honour'd love.

Reg. But have you never found my brother's way To the forefended place?

Edm.

That thought abuses you.

Reg. I am doubtful that you have been conjunct And bofom'd with her, as far as we call hers.

Edm. No, by mine honour, madam.

Reg. I never fhall endure her: Dear my lord, Be not familiar with her.

Edm.

Fear me not :

She, and the duke her husband,—

Enter ALBANY, GONERIL, and Soldiers.

Gon. I had rather lofe the battle, than that fifter

Should loofen him and me.

Alb. Our very loving fifter, well be met.

H 3

[Afide.

Sir,