Cord. Help, earth and heaven!
For your soul's sake, dear sir, and for the gods', -

Offi. No tears, good lady; no pleading against gold

and preferment.

Come, sirs, make ready your cords.
Cord. You, sir, I'll seize,

You have a human form; and, if no prayers
Can touch your soul to spare a poor king's life,
If there be any thing that you hold dear,
By that I beg you to despatch me first.

Capt. Comply with her request; despatch her first. Lear. Off, hell-hounds! by the gods I charge you, spare her;

'Tis my Cordelia, my true pious daughter;No pity?-Nay, then take an old man's vengeance. [KING LEAR Snatches a Sword from the OrFICER, and strikes down the Two SOLDIERS who had seized CORDELIA.

Enter EDGAR, the DUKE OF ALBANY, and KING LEAR'S KNIGHTS.

Edg. Death! hell! ye vultures, hold your impious

hands,

Or take a speedier death than you would give.
Alb. Guards, seize those instruments of cruelty.
Cord. Oh, my Edgar!

Edg. My dear Cordelia! Lucky was the minute Of our approach; the gods have weigh'd our suff'rings; We've pass'd the fire, and now must shine to ages.

Knight. Look here, my lord; see, where the gene

rous king Has slain two of them.

Lear. Did I not, fellow?

I've seen the day, with my good biting falchion
I could have made them skip; -I am old now,
And these vile crosses spoil me; out of breath,
Fie, oh! quite out of breath, and spent.

Alb. Bring in old Kent [Exit a KNIGHT.] and,

Edgar, guide you hither

Your father, who, you said, was near. [Exit EDGAR.

Enter KENT and the KNIGHT,

Lear. Who are you?

My eyes are none o'th' best, I'll tell you straight:
Oh, Albany! Well, sir, we are your captives,
And you are come to see death pass upon us.
Why this delay?-Or is't your highness' pleasure
To give us first the torture? Say you so ?
Why, here's old Kent, and I, as tough a pair
As e'er bore tyrant stroke;-but my Cordelia,
My poor Cordelia here, O pity-

Alb. Thou injur'd majesty,

The wheel of fortune now has made her circle,
And blessings yet stand 'twixt thy grave and thee.

Lear. Com'st thou, inhuman lord, to sooth us back
To a fool's paradise of hope, to make
Our doom more wretched? Go to; we are too well
Acquainted with misfortune, to be gull'd
With lying hope; no, we will hope no more.

Alb. I have a tale t'unfold, so full of wonder,
As cannot meet an easy faith;
But, by that royal injur'd head, 'tis true.
Kent. What would your highness ?
Alb. Know, the noble Edgar

Impeach'd Lord Edmund, since the fight, of treason,
And dar'd him for the proof to single combat,
In which the gods confirm'd his charge by conquest;
I left e'en now the traitor wounded mortally.
Lear. And whither tends this story?

Alb. Ere they fought,

Lord Edgar gave into my hands this paper,
A blacker scroll of treason and of lust
Than can be found in the records of hell:
There, sacred sir, behold the character

Of Goneril, the worst of daughters, but
More vicious wife.

Cord. Could there be yet addition to their guilt? What will not they, that wrong a father, do?

Alb. Since then my injuries, Lear, fall in with thine, I have resolv'd the same redress for both. Kent. What says my lord?

Cord. Speak; for methought I heard The charming voice of a descending god.

Alb. The troops by Edmund rais'd, I have disbanded:
Those, that remain, are under my command.
What comfort may be brought to cheer your age,
And heal your savage wrongs, shall be apply'd;
For to your majesty we do resign

Your kingdom, save what part yourself conferr'd
On us in marriage.

Kent. Hear you that, my liege?

Cord. Then there are gods, and virtue is their care. Lear. Is't possible ?

Let the spheres stop their course, the sun make halt, The winds be hush'd, the seas and fountains rest, All nature pause, and listen to the change!

Where is my Kent, my Caius?

Kent. Here, my liege.

Lear. Why, I have news, that will recall thy youth; Ha! didst thou hear?-or did th' inspiring gods Whisper to me alone-Old Lear shall be

A king again?

Kent. The prince, that like a god has pow'r, has said it.

Lear. Cordelia then shall be a queen, mark that; Cordelia shall be queen; winds catch the sound, And bear it on your rosy wings to heav'n, Cordelia is a queen.

Enter EDGAR, with GLOSTER.

Alb. Look, sir, where pious Edgar comes,

Leading his eyeless father. O, my liege,
His wondrous story well deserves your leisure;
What he has done and suffer'd for your sake,
What for the fair Cordelia's.

Glost. Where's my liege? Conduct me to his knees,

to hail

His second birth of empire: My dear Edgar
Has, with himself, reveal'd the king's blest restoration,
Lear. My poor dark Gloster!

Glost. O, let me kiss once more that sceptred hand!
Lear. Hold, thou mistak'st the majesty; kneel

here;

Cordelia has our pow'r, Cordelia's queen.
Speak, is not that the noble, suff'ring Edgar?

Glost. My pious son, more dear than my lost eyes.
Lear. I wrong'd him too; but here's the fair amends.
Edg. Your leave, my liege, for an unwelcome mes-

sage:

Edmund, but that's a trifle, is expir'd.
What more will touch you, your imperious daughters,
Goneril and haughty Regan, both are dead,
Each by the other poison'd at a banquet :
This, dying, they confess'd.

Cord. O fatal period of ill govern'd life!

Lear. Ingrateful as they were, my heart feels yet A pang of nature for their wretched fall. But, Edgar, I defer thy joys too long: Thou serv'dst distress'd Cordelia; take her crown'd, Th' imperial grace fresh blooming on her brow: Nay, Gloster, thou hast here a father's right; Thy helping hand to heap blessings on their heads. Kent. Old Kent throws in his hearty wishes too. Edg. The gods and you too largely recompense What I have done; the gift strikes merit dumb. Cord. Nor do I blush to own myself o'erpaid For all my suff'rings past.

Edg. Divine Cordelia, all the gods can witness How much thy love to empire I prefer.

Thy bright example shall convince the world,
Whatever storms of fortune are decreed.
That truth and virtue shall at last succeed.

Glost. Now, gentle gods, give Gloster his dis

charge!

Lear. No, Gloster, thou hast business yet for life; Thou, Kent, and I, retir'd to some close cell, Will gently pass our short reserves of time In calm reflections on our fortunes past, Cheer'd with relation of the prosperous reign Of this celestial pair; thus our remains Shall in an even course of thought be past, Enjoy the present hour, nor fear the last.

[Exeunt omnes.

THE END.