Edm. In wisdom, I should ask thy name; But, since thy outside looks so fair and warlike, [Flourish. Edgar and Edmund fight. Edmund Edm. What you have charged me with, that have I done; 'T is past, and so am I: but what art thou, That hast this fortune on me? I do forgive thee. Let's exchange charity. If thou 'rt noble, Edgar. I am no less in blood than thou art, Edmund: Edm. Thou hast spoken right; 't is true; The wheel is come full circle; I am here; But, O, I pant for life. Some good I mean to do, Despite of mine own nature. Quickly send Be brief in it-to the castle; for my writ Take my sword; Give it the captain. Edm. [Edgar picks up sword and goes out. Edm. He hath commission from thy wife and me To hang Cordelia, in the prison, and Alb. The gods defend her! Bear him hence. [To Albany. [Edmund is borne off R. Albany in R. corner. Enter Lear, with Cordelia, dead, in his arms. Edgar, Officer, Curan, and Kent follow him. Lear. Howl, howl, howl, howl!-O! you are men of stone! Is this the promised end? Kent. Edgar. Or image of that horror? Alb. Fall and cease. Lear. [Takes feather from Kent's hat and holds it to Cordelia's lips. This feather stirs : she lives! If it be so, It is a chance which does redeem all sorrows That ever I have felt. A plague upon you, murderers, traitors, all! What is 't thou say'st? Her voice was ever soft, Curan. 'Tis true, my lords, he did. Did I not, fellow? Lear. I have seen the day with my good biting faulchion [To all. [To Kent. Mine eyes are not of the best:- I'll tell you straight. Kent. If fortune brag of two she loved and hated, One of them we behold. Lear. This is a dull sight. Are you not Kent ? Kent. The same. Your servant Kent: where is your servant Caius? Lear. He's a good fellow, I can tell you that. He'll strike, and quickly too: he's dead and rotten. Kent. No, my good lord, I am the very man Lear. I'll see that straight. Kent. That from your first of difference and decay Lear. You are welcome hither. Kent. Nor no man else; all's cheerless, dark and deadly. Your eldest daughters have fordone themselves And desperately are dead. Ay, so I think. Lear. Alb. He knows not what he says, and vain it is, That we present us to him. Edgar. Very bootless. O! see! see! Lear. And my poor fool is hanged. No, no, no life: Why should a dog, a horse, a rat have life, And thou no breath at all? Thou 'lt come no more, Never, never, never, never, never! Pray you, undo this button: thank you, sir.— Do you see this? Look on her,—look, her lips.— Look there! Look there! |