Cor. Oh, Regan! Goneril! Inhuman sisters!
Had he not been your father, these white hairs
Had challenged, sure, some pity! Was this a face
To be exposed against the warring winds?
My enemy's dog, though he had bit me, should
Have stood that night against my fire.

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

Cor. Is he arrayed?

Phys. Ay, madam, in the heaviness of his sleep We put fresh garments on him.

Cor. Oh, my dear father! Restoration, hang Thy med'cine on my lips; and let this kiss Repair those violent harms, that my two sisters Have in thy rev'rence made. He wakes.

(When Lear is seated)

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' th' grave.
(Lear rises, and Cordelia supports him down to
the front of the Stage.)

Cor. (r.h.) Speak to me, sir; who am I?
Lear. (c.) You are a soul in bliss; but I am bound
Upon a wheel of fire, which my 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. Madam, he's scarce awake; he'll soon grow more composed.

Lear. Where have I been? Where am I? Fair daylight? I am mightily abused: I should even die with pity To see another thus. I will not swear

These are my hands.

Cor. Oh, look upon me, sir,

And hold your hand in blessing o'er me. (Lear attempts to kneel,)—Nay,

You must not kneel.

Lear. Pray, do not mock me :

I am a very foolish, fond old man,

Fourscore and upward; and, to deal plainly,
I fear I am not in my perfect mind.

Cor. Nay, then, farewell to patience! Witness for me Ye mighty pow'rs, I never complained till now !

Lear. Methinks, I should know you, and know this

man;

Yet I am doubtful; for I'm mainly ignorant
What place this is; and all the skill I have
Remembers not these garments; nor do I know

Where I did sleep last night.—Pray, do not mock me ;
For, as I am a man, I think that lady

To be my child Cordelia.

Cor. Oh, my dear, dear father!

Lear. Be your tears wet? Yes, faith; pray, do not

weep.

I know I have given thee cause, and am so humbled
With crosses since, that I could ask

Forgiveness of thee, were it possible
That thou couldst grant it;

If thou hast poison for me, I will drink it,
Bless thee, and die.

Cor. (c.) Oh, pity, sir, a bleeding heart, and cease
This killing language.

Lear, (l.h.) Tell me, friends, where am I?

Phys. (r.h.) In your own kingdom, sir.

Lear. Do not abuse me.

Phys. Be comforted, good madam, for the violence

Of his distemper's past; we'll lead him in,

Nor trouble him, till he's better settled.
Will it please you, sir, walk into freer air?

Lear. You must bear with me, I am old and foolish ; Forget and forgive.

(The physician leads off King Lear, followed by two Knights, l.H.)

Cor. The gods restore you.

Hark, I hear afar

The beaten drum. Old Kent's a man of's word.

(A distant March.)

Oh! for an arm

Like the fierce thunderer's, when the earth-born sons
stormed heaven, to fight this injured father's battle!

That I could shift my sex, and dye me deep
In his opposer's blood! But, as I may,
With women's weapons, piety and pray'rs,
I'll aid his cause. You never-erring gods,
Fight on his side, and thunder on his foes
Such tempests, as his poor aged head sustained !
Your image suffers when a monarch bleeds ;
'Tis your own cause; for that your succours bring;
Revenge yourselves, and right an injured king. [Exit, l.h.

SCENE II.-The Camp of the British Forces, near Dover.—Flourish.*

Enter Albany, l.h., Offices, Soldiers, Guards, Edgar, r.h., meeting him.

Edg. If e'er your grace had speech with man so poor, Hear me one word.

Alb. I'll overtake you.

[Exeunt all but Albany and Edgar, l.h. Alb. (c.) Speak.

Edg. (r.h.) Before you fight the battle, ope this letter. If you have victory, let the trumpet sound

:

that will prove

For him that brought it wretched though I seem,
I can produce a champion
What is avouched there. If you miscarry,
Your business of the world hath so an end,
And machination ceases.
Fortune love you!
Alb. Stay till I have read the letter.
Edg. I was forbid it.

When time shall serve, let but the herald cry,

And I'll appear again.

[Exit, r.h.

Alb. Why, fare the well; I will o'erlook thy paper.

[Exit, l.h.

SCENE III-A valley near the Field of Battle.
Enter Edgar and Gloster, r.h.u.e.

Edg. Here, father, take the shadow of this tree
For your good host; pray that the right may thrive :
If ever I return to you again,

I'll bring you comfort.

[Exit, l.h.

This scene is usually omitted in the Representation.

Glos. Grace go with you, sir. (An alarum without, l.h.) The fight grows hot; the whole war's now at work, And the gored battle bleeds in every vein, Whilst drums and trumpets drown loud slaughter's roar. Where's Gloster now, that used to head the onset, And scour the ranks where deadliest danger lay? Here, like a shepherd, in a lonely shade, Idle, unarmed, and list'ning to the fight. No more of shelter, thou blind worm, but forth To th' open field; the war may come this way, And crush thee into rest. (Advances a little.) Oh, dark despair! When, Edgar, wilt thou come To pardon, and dismiss me to the grave?

(A retreat is sounded, l.h.) Hark! a retreat! The king, I fear, has lost.

Re-enter Edgar, l.h.

Edg. Away, old man; give me your hand; away!
(Crosses, r.h.)

King Lear has lost; he and his daughter ta'en:
Give me thy hand. Come on!

Glos. No farther, sir; a man may rot even here. Edg. What! in ill thoughts again! Men must endure Their going hence, ev'n as their coming hither. Ripeness is all.—Come on!

Glos. And that's true, too.

[Exeunt, r.h

SCENE IT.—The British Camp near Dover.
Duke of Albany's Tent.

Flourish, lh. Enter Duke of Albany, Edmund, Herald, Attendants, Soldiers, &c., l.h.

Alb. (c.) Sir, you have shown to-day your valiant strain, And fortune led you well: you have the captives Who were the opposites of this day's strife: We do require them of you; so to use them, As we shall find their merits and our safety May equally determine.

Edm. (r.h.) Sir, I thought it fit To send the old and miserable king

To some retention, and appointed guard;
W ose age has charms in it, whose title more,
To pluck the common bosom on his side,
And turn our impressed lancers in our eyes,
Which do command them. With him I sent the queen;

My reason all the same; and they are ready
To-morrow, or at further space, to appear
Where you shall hold your session.
Alb. Sir, by your patience,

I hold you but a subject of this war,

Not as a brother.

And here do now arrest thee

On capital treason.—Let the trumpet sound.
If none appear to prove upon thy person,
Thy heinous, manifest, and many treasons,

There is my pledge: (Throwing down a Gauntlet.) I'll prove it on thy heart,

Ere I taste bread, thou art in nothing less

Than I have here proclaimed thee.

Edm. There's my exchange. (Throwing down Gauntlet.) What in the world he is That names me traitor, villain-like he lies. Call by thy trumpet: he that dares approach, On him, on you, (who not ?) I will maintain My truth and honor firmly.

Alb. A herald, ho!

Trust to thy single virtue; for thy soldiers,
All levied in my name, have in my name
Took their discharge.

Come hither, Herald.—Let the trumpet sound, And read out this. (Gives paper.) Sound, trumpet. (Trumpet sounds, r.h.)

Her. (r.h.) [Reads.] "If any man of quality, or degree, within the lists of the army, will maintain upon Edmund, supposed Earl of Gloster, that he is a manifold traitor, let him appear at the third sound of the trumpet. He is bold in his defence."

Alb. Sound!

(1st Trumpet.) (3d Trumpet.)

(A Trumpet answers on l.h. three times.)

Her. Again? (2d Trumpet.) Again!