Cord. Help, Earth and Heaven!

For your Souls fake, dear Sirs, and for the Gods.
Ofi. No Tears, good Lady; no pleading against Gold
Come, Sirs, make ready your Cords.

Cord. You, Sir, I'll feize,

(and Preferment.

You have a human Form, and if no Prayers

Can touch your Soul to fpare a poor King's Life,
If there be any thing that you hold dear,

By that I beg you to difpatch me first.

Capt. Comply with her Requeft; difpatch her firft. Lear. Off Hell-Hounds, by the Gods I charge you fpare 'Tis my Cordelia, my true pious Daughter; (her; No pity --Nay, then take an old Man's Vengeance. Snatches a Partifan, and ftrikes down two of them; the reft quit Cordelia, and turn upon him. Enter Edgar aud Albany.

Edg. Death! Hell! Ye Vultures, hold your impious Or take a fpeedier Death than you wou'd give. Capt. By whofe Command?

Edg. Behold the Duke, your Lord.

(Hands,

Alb. Guards, feize thofe Inftruments of Cruelty.
Cord. My Edgar, Oh!

Edg. My dear Cordelia! Lucky was the Minute

Of our Approach; the Gods have weigh'd our Suff'rings;

W' are paft the Fire, and now muft fhine to Ages.

Gent. Look here, my Lord, fee where the generous Has flain two of 'em.

Lear. Did I not, Fellow?

I've feen the Day, with my good biting Faulchion

I cou'd have made 'em fkip: I am Old now,
And thefe vile Croffes fpoil me; out of Breath,
Fie, oh quite out of Breath, and spent.

(King

Alb. Bring in old Kent; and, Edgar, guide you hither Your Father, whom you faid was near;

He may be an Ear-Witnefs at the leaft

Of our Proceedings.

Lear. Who are you?

[Exit Edgar.

[Kent brought in here

My Eyes are none o'th' beft, I'll tell you ftreight;
Oh Albany! Well, Sir, we are your Captives,
And you are come to fee Death pafs upon us.
Why this Delay? Or is't your Highness's Pleasure

To

To give us firft the Torture? Say ye fo?
Why here's old Kent and I, as tough a Pair

As e'er bore Tyrant's Stroke.But my Cordelia,
My poor Cordelia here, O pity.

Alb. Take off their Chains.

Thou injur'd Majefty,

The Wheel of Fortune now has made her Circle,

And Bleffings yet ftand 'twixt thy Grave and thee.

Lear. Com't thou, inhuman Lord, to footh us back
To a Fool's Paradife 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, fo full of Wonder
As cannot meet an easy Faith;

But by that Royal injur'd Head 'tis true.
Kent. What wou'd your Highnefs?

Alb. Know, the noble Edgar

Impeach'd Lord Edmund, fince the Fight, of Treafon,
And dar'd him for the Proof to fingle Combat,
In which the Gods confirm'd his Charge by Conqueft;
I left ev'n now the Traitor wounded mortally!
Lear. And whither tends this Story?

Alb. 'Ere they fought,

Lord Edgar gave into my Hand this Paper;
A blacker Scroll of Treafon and of Luft,
Than can be found in the Records of Hell;
There, facred Sir, behold the Character
Of Goneril, the worst of Daughters, but
More vicious Wife.

Cord. Cou'd 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 refolv'd the fame Redrefs for both.

Kent. What fays my Lord?

Cord. Speak, for methought I heard

The charming Voice of a defcending God.

Alb. The Troops, by Edmund rais'd, I have difbanded;

Thofe that remain are under my Command.

What Comfort may be brought to chear your Age,
And heal your favage Wrongs, fhall be apply'd;
For to your Majesty we do refign

I

Your

Your Kingdom, fave what Part yourself confer'd
On us in Marriage.

Kent. Hear you that, my Liege?

Cord. Then they are Gods, and Virtue is their Care.
Lear. Is't poffible?

Let the Spheres ftop their Course, the Sun make halt,
The Winds be hufh'd, the Seas and Fountains rest;
All Nature pause, and liften to the Change.
Where is my Kent, my Cajus?

Kent. Here, my Liege.

Lear. Why I have News that will recall thy Youth: Ha! Did'st thou hear't, 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 fhall be a Queen; Winds catch the Sound,
And bear it on your rofy Wings to Heav'n-
Cordelia is a Queen.

Re-enter Edgar with Glofter.
Alb. Look, Sir, where pious Edgar comes,
Leading his Eyelefs Father. O my Liege!
His wond'rous Story well deferves your
What he has done and fuffer'd for your Sake,
What for the fair Cordelia's.

Leifure ;

Gloft. Where's my Liege? Conduct me to his Knees, to His fecond Birth of Empire: My dear Edgar

(hail

Has, with himself, reveal'd the King's bleft Reftauration. Lear. My poor dark Glofter.

Gloft. O let me kiss that once more scepter'd Hand! Lear. Hold, thou mistake'ft the Majefty, kneel here ;, Cordelia has our Pow'r, Cordelia's Queen.

Speak, is not that the noble fuff'ring Edgar?

Gloft. My pious Son, more dear than my loft Eyes. Lear. I wrong'd him too, but here's the fair Amends, Edg. Your Leave, my Liege, for an unwelcome Meffage. Edmund (but that's a Trifle) is expired.

What more will touch you, your imperious Daughters,
Goneril and haughty Regan, both are dead,
Each by the other poifon'd at a Banquet :
This, dying, they confefs'd..

Cords.

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 ferv'dft diftrefs'd Cordelia; take her crown'd,
Th' imperial Grace fresh blooming on her Brow;
Nay, Glofter, thou haft here a Father's Right,
Thy helping Hand t'heap Bleffings on their Heads.
Kent. Old Kent throws in his hearty Wishes too.
Edg. The Gods and you too largely recompence
What I have done; the Gift ftrikes Merit dumb.
Cord. Nor do I blush to own myself o'er-paid
For all my Suff'rings paft.

Gloft. Now, gentle Gods, give Glofter his Discharge.
Lear. No, Glofter, thou haft Business yet for Life;
Thou, Kent, and I, retir'd to fome clofe Cell,
Will gently pafs our fhort Reserves of Time
In calm Reflections on our Fortunes past,
Cheer'd with Relation of the profperous Reign
Of this celeftial Pair; thus our Remains
Shall in an even Courfe of Thoughts be past,
Enjoy the present Hour, nor fear the last.

Edg. Our drooping Country now erects her Head,
Peace fpreads her balmy Wings, and Plenty blooms.
Divine Cordelia, all the Gods can witness
How much thy Love to Empire I prefer!
Thy bright Example fhall convince the World
(Whatever Storms of Fortune are decreed)
That Truth and Virtue fhall at last fucceed.

[Ex. Omnes

EPI

Spoken by Mrs. Barry.

Nconftancy, the reigning Sin o'th' Age,

IN

Will fcarce endure true Lovers on the Stage;

You hardly ev'n in Plays with fuch difpence,
And Poets kill 'em in their own Defence.
Yet one bold Proof I was refolv'd to give,
That I cou'd three Hours Conftancy out-live.
You fear, perhaps, whilst on the Stage w'are made
Such Saints, we fall indeed take up the Trade:
Sometimes we threaten,-but our Virtue may

For Truth (I fear) with your Pit-Valour weigh:
For (not to flatter either) 1 much doubt

When we are off the Stage, and you are out,

We are not quite fo coy, nor you fo ftout.

We talk of Nunneries

-but, to be fincere,

Whoever lives to fee us cloister'd there,
May hope to meet our Criticks at Tangier.

}

For