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ransom. Let me have surgeons; Oh I, I am cut

to the brains.

2 Knight. You shall have any thing.

Lear. No seconds? All myself?
I will die bravely, like a bridegroom. What?
I will be jovial; come, come; I am a king,
My masters, know you that?

1 Knight. You are a royal one, and we obey you.

Lear. It were an excellent stratagem to shoe a troop of horse with felt; I'll put it in proof.—No noise, no noise.—Now will we steal upon these sons-in-law, and

then Kill, kill, kill, kill!

[Exeunt King Lear, and the Knights.

Edg. A sight most moving in the meanest wretch, Past speaking in a king!

Glost. Now, good sir, what are you?

Edg. A most poor man, made tame to fortune's strokes, And prone to pity by experienc'd sorrows. Give me your hand.

Glost. You gentle gods, take my breath from me, And let not my ill genius tempt me more To die before you please.

Enter Oswald.

Osw. A proclaim'd prize! O most happily met! That eyeless head of thine was first frani'd flesh To raise my fortunes. Thou old, unhappy, traitor, The sword is out that must destroy thee.

Glost. Now let thy friendly hand put strength enough to't.

Osw. Wherefore, bold peasant,
Dar'st thou support a publish'd traitor? Hence,
Lest I destroy thee too; let go his arm.

Edg. Chill not let go, zir, without 'vurther 'casion.

Osw. Let go, slave; or thou diest.

Edg. Good gentleman, go your gate, and let poor volk pass; and chu'd ha' bin' zwaggerM out of my life, it would not have been zo long as 'tis by a vort

night. Nay, an' thou com'st near th' old man, I'st

try whether your costard or my ballow be th' harder.

Osw. Out, dunghill!

Edg. Chill pick your teeth, zir: come, no matter vor your foines, [edgar knocks him down.

Osw. Slave, thou hast slain me; oh! untimely
death! [Dies.

Edg. I know thee well, a serviceable villain.
As duteous to the vices of thy mistress,
As lust could wish.

Glost. What ? Is he dead?

Edg. This is a letter carrier, and may have Some papers of intelligence, that may stand

Our party in good stead to know. What's here?

[Takes a Letter out of his Pocket, and reads it.

To Edmund Earl of Gloster. Let our mutual loves be remembered: you have many opportunities to cut Albany off. If he return the con queror, then I am still a prisoner, and his bed my gaol; from the loathed warmth of which deliver me, and supply the place for your labour. Goneril,

A plot upon the duke her husband's life,
And the exchange my brother!—
In time and place convenient I'll produce
These letters to the sight of th' injur'd duke,
As best shall serve our purpose.

[A March at a Distance. Come, your hand;

Far off methinks I hear the beaten drum:
Come, sir, I will bestow you with a friend. [Exeunt,

ACT THE FIFTH.

SCENE I.

A Chamber.

King Lear asleep on a Couch.

Cordelia, Physician, and Two Knights standing by him.

Cord. His sleep is sound, and may have good effect To cure his jarring senses, and repair This breach of nature.

Phys. We have employ'd the utmost pow'r of art, And this deep rest will perfect our design.

Cord. O Regan! Goneril! Inhuman sisters! Had he not been your father, these white hairs Had challenged sure some pity! Was this a face To be expos'd against the jarring winds? My enemy's dog, though he had bit me, should Have stood that night against my fire.—He wakes; speak to him.

Phys. Madam, do you; 'tis fittest.

Cord. How does my royal lord? How fares your majesty?

Lear. You do me wrong, to take me outo'th' grave.

Cord. Speak to me, sir; who am I?

Lear. You are a soul in bliss; but I am bound
Upon a wheel of fire, which my own tears
Do scald like molten lead.

Cord. Sir, do you know me?

Lear. You are a spirit, I know; when did you die?

Cord. Still, still, far wide!

Phys. Madam, he's scarce awake; he'll soon grow more compos'd.

Lear. Where have I been? Where am I? Fair day-
light?
I am mightily abus'd; I should even die with pity
To see another thus. I will not swear
These are my hands.

Cord. O, look upon me, sir,
And hold your hand in blessing o'er me.—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.

Cord: Nay, then farewell to patience? witness for me, Ye mighty pow'rs, I ne'er complain'd 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.

Cord. O, 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.

Cord. O, pity, sir, a bleeding heart, and cease This killing language.

Lear. Tell me, friends, where am I?

Phys. 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 is 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 the Two Knights.

Cord. The gods restore you!— [A distant March. Hark, I hear afar

The beaten drum. Old Kent's a man of's word.
Oh! for an arm

Like the fierce thunderer's, when the earth-born sons
Storm'd heav'n, to fight this injur'd father's battle!
That T 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 sustain'd!
Your image suffers when a monarch bleeds;
Tis your own cause ; for that your succours bring;
Revenge yourselves, and right an injur'd king.

[Exit Cordelia.

SCENE II.

A Valley near the Field of Battle.

Enter Edgar and Gloster.

Edg. Here, sir, take you the shadow of this tree For your good host; pray that the right may thrive:

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