So should my thoughts be severed from my griefs;
And woes, by wrong imaginations, lose
The knowledge of themselves.

Edg.

Re-enter EDgar.

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 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 acknowledged, madam, is o'erpaid. All my reports go with the modest truth;

Nor more, nor clipped, but so.

Be better suited.2

Cor. These weeds are memories of those worser hours;

I pr'ythee, put them off.

Pardon me, dear madam;

Kent.
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?

Phys. Madam, sleeps still.

Cor.

[To the Physician.

Cure this great breach in his abused nature!

1 In the folio, the gentleman and the physician are one and the same

person.

2 i. e. be better dressed, put on a better suit of clothes.

3 Memories are memorials.

4 A MADE intent is an INTENT formed.

The untuned and jarring senses, O, wind up,
Of this child-changed father!1

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

Cor. Be governed by your knowledge, and proceed I' the sway of your own will. Is he arrayed?

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 music there.2

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!

Kent.

Kind and dear princess!

Cor. Had you not been their father, these white

flakes

Had challenged pity of them. Was this a face
To be exposed 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 ?3] 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!

1 That is, changed by his children; a father whose jarring senses have been untuned by the ingratitude of his daughters.

2 This and the foregoing speech are not in the folio. It has been already observed, that Shakspeare considered soft music as favorable to sleep. Lear, we may suppose, had been thus composed to rest; and now the physician desires louder music to be played, for the purpose of waking him.

3 The lines in crotchets are not in the folio. The allusion is to the forlorn hope of an army, called in French enfans perdus; amongst other desperate adventures in which they were engaged, the night-watches seem to have been a common one.

'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 majesty ?

Lear. You do me wrong, to take me out o' the

grave.

Thou art a soul in bliss; but I am bound
Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears
Do scald like molten lead.

Cor.

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 daylight?

I am mightily abused.2-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 assured

Of my condition.

Cor.

And hold your hands in benediction o'er me.
No, sir, you must not kneel.

Lear.

O, look upon me, sir,

Pray, do not mock me.

I am a very foolish, fond old man,

Fourscore and upward; 3 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.

1 i. e. had not all ended.

2 I am strangely imposed upon by appearances; I am in a strange mist of uncertainty.

3 The folio here adds the words "not an hour more or less;" which have been regarded as the interpolation of some player.

Cor.

And so I am, I am.

Lear. Be your tears wet? Yes, 'faith. I pray,

weep not;

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.

Cor.

Lear. Am I in France?
Kent.

Lear. Do not abuse me.

No cause, no cause.

In your own kingdom, sir.

Phys. Be comforted, good madam. The great rage,
You see, is killed in him; [and yet it is danger
To make him even1 o'er the time he has lost.]
Desire him to go in; trouble him no more,
Till further settling.

Cor. Will't please your highness walk?
Lear.

You must bear with me;

'Pray you now, forget and forgive; I am old and foolish.

[Exeunt LEAR, CORDELIA, Physician, and Attendants.

[Gent. Holds it true, sir,

That the duke of Cornwall was so slain?

His banished son, is with the earl of Kent

In Germany.

Kent.

Report is changeable.

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

Approach apace.

Gent. The arbitrement is like to be a bloody. Fare you well, sir.

1 "To make him even o'er the time he has lost,"

[Exit.

is to make the occurrences of it plain or level to his troubled mind. See Baret's Alvearie, 1573, E. 307.

Kent. My point and period will be thoroughly wrought,

Or well, or ill, as this day's battle's fought.'] [Exit.

ACT V.

SCENE I. The Camp of the British Forces, near Dover.

Enter, with drums and colors, EDMUND, REGan, Officers, Soldiers, and others.

Edm. Know of the duke, if his last purpose hold; Or, whether since he is advised by aught

To change the course. He's full of alteration,
And self-reproving;-bring his constant pleasure.2

Now, sweet lord,

[To an Officer, who goes out. Reg. Our sister's man is certainly miscarried. Edm. 'Tis to be doubted, madam. Reg. You know the goodness I intend upon you. Tell me,—but truly,—but then speak the truth, Do you not love my sister?

Edm.

In honored love.

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

Edm.

3

That thought abuses 1 you.

Reg. I am doubtful that you have been conjunct
And bosomed with her, as far as we call hers.
Edm. No, by mine honor, madam.]

1 What is printed in crotchets here and above, is not in the folio. 2 i. e. his settled resolution.

3 The first and last of these speeches within crotchets are inserted in Hanmer's, Theobald's, and Warburton's editions; the two intermediate ones, which were omitted in all others, are restored from the 4to. 1608. 4 Imposes on you; you are deceived.