I know you do not love me; for your sisters Have, as I do remember, done me wrong: You have some cause, they have not. CORDELIA.

Be comforted, good madam: the great rage,
You see, is kill'd in him: and yet it is danger
To make him even-o'er the time he has lost.
Desire him to go in; trouble him no more
Till further settling.

CORDELIA.

Will 't please your highness walk? LEAR.

You must bear with me.

Pray you now, forget and forgive: I am old and foolish.

GENTLEMAN.

(Exeunt all but Kent & Gentleman.)

Holds it true, sir, that the Duke of Cornwall was so slain? KENT.

Most certain, sir.

GENTLEMAN.

Who is conductor of his people?

KENT.

As 'tis said, the bastard son of Gloucester.
GENTLEMAN.

They say Edgar, his banished son, is with the Earl of
Kent in Germany.

KENT.

Report is changeable. "Tis time to look about; the powers of the kingdom approach apace.

GENTLEMAN.

The arbitrement is like to be bloody. Fare you well, sir.

KENT.

My point and period will be thoroughly wrought,
Or well or ill, as this day's battle's fought.

(Exit.)

(Exit.)

ACT V.

SCENE I. The British camp near Dover.

Enter,

with drum and colours, Edmund, Regan, Gentlemen, and Soldiers.

EDMUND.

Know of the duke if his last purpose hold,
Or whether since he is advis'd by aught
To change the course: he's full of alteration
And self-reproving: bring his constant pleasure.
To a Gentleman, who goes out.)

REGAN.

Our sister's man is certainly miscarried. EDMUND.

'Tis to be doubted, madam.

REGAN.

Now, sweet lord,

You know the goodness I intend upon you:
Tell me, but truly, but then speak the truth,
Do you not love my sister?

EDMUND.

REGAN.

In honour'd love.

But have you never found my brother's way
To the forfended place?

EDMUND.

I am doubtful that you have been conjunct And bosom'd with her, as far as we call hers. EDMUND.

No, by mine honour, madam.

REGAN.

I never shall endure her: dear my lord,

Be not familiar with her.

EDMUND.

Fear me not.

She and the duke her husband!

(Enter, with drum and colours, Albany, Goneril,
Soldiers.)

GONERIL. (Aside.)

I had rather lose the battle than that sister

Should loosen him and me.

ALBANY.

Our very loving sister, well be-met.—

Sir, this I hear; the king is come to his daughter,
With others whom the rigour of our state
Forc'd to cry out. Where I could not be honest,
I never yet was valiant: for this business,
It toucheth us, as France invades our land,
Not bolds the king, with others, whom, I fear,
Most just and heavy causes make oppose.
EDMUND.

Sir, you speak nobly.

REGAN.

GONERIL.

Why is this reason'd?

Combine together 'gainst the enemy;
For these domestic and particular broils
Are not the question here.

ALBANY.

Let's then determine

With the ancient of war on our proceedings. EDMUND.

I shall attend you presently at your tent. REGAN.

Sister, you'll go with us?

GONERİL.

No.

REGAN.

'Tis most convenient; pray you, go with us. GONERIL.(Aside.)

Oh, ho, I know the riddle.-I will go.

(Exeunt both the Armies.) (As Albany is going out, enter Edgar disguised.) EDGAR.

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

ALBANY.

EDGAR.

ci

I'll overtake you.-Speak.

Before you fight the battle, ope this letter.
If you have victory, let the trumpet sound
For him that brought it: wretched though I seem,
I can produce a champion that will prove
What is avouched there. If you miscarry,
Your business of the world hath so an end,
And machination ceases. Fortune love you!

88

ALBANY.

Stay till I have read the letter.

EDGAR.

I was forbid it.

When time shall serve, let but the herald cry,
And I'll appear again.

ALBANY.

(Exit Edgar.)

Why, fare thee well: I will o'erlook thy paper. (Re-enter Edmund.)

EDMUND.

The enemy's in view: draw up your powers.
Here is the guess of their true strength and forces
By diligent discovery; but your haste

Is now urg'd on you.

ALBANY.

EDMUND.

We will greet the time.

(Exit.)

To both these sisters have I sworn my love;
Each jealous of the other, as the stung

Are of the adder. Which of them shall I take?
Both? one? or neither? Neither can be enjoy'd,
If both remain alive: to take the widow
Exasperates, makes mad her sister Goneril;
And hardly shall I carry out my side,

Her husband being alive. Now then we'll use
His countenance for the battle: which being done,
Let her who would be rid of him devise
His speedy taking-off. As for the mercy
Which he intends to Lear and to Cordelia,
The battle done, and they within our power,
Shall never see his pardon; for my state
Stands on me to defend, not to debate.

(Exit.)

SCENE II. A field between the two camps. Alarum within. Enter, with drum and colours, Lear, Cordelia, and Soldiers, over the stage; and exeunt.

and Gloucester.

EDGAR.

Here, father, take the shadow of this tree

Enter Edgar

For your good host; pray that the right may thrive:

If ever I return to you again,

I'll bring you comfort.

GLOUCESTER.

EDGAR.

Grace go with you, sir!

(Exit Edgar.) (Alarum & retreat within. Re-enter Edgar.)

Away, old man; give me thy hand; away! King Lear hath lost, he and his daughter ta'en: Give me thy hand; come on. GLOUCESTER.

No further, sir; a man may rot even here.
EDGAR.

What, in ill thoughts again? Men must endure
Their going hence, even as their coming hither:
Ripeness is all: come on.

GLOUCESTER.

And that's true too.

(Exeunt.)

Enter,

SCENE III. The British Camp near Dover.

in conquest, with drum and colours, Edmund; Lear and
Cordelia, as prisoners; Captain, Soldiers, &c.
EDMUND.

Some officers take them away: good guard,
Until their greater pleasures first be known
That are to censure them.

CORDELIA.

We are not the first,

Who with best meaning, have incurr'd the worst.
For thee, oppressed king, am I cast down;
Myself could else out-frown, false fortune's frown.
Shall we not see these daughters and these sisters?
LEAR.

No, no, no, no! Come, let's away to prison:
We two alone will sing like birds i' the cage:
When thou dost ask me blessing, I'll kneel down,
And ask of thee forgiveness: so we'll live,
And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh
At gilded butterflies, and hear poor rogues
Talk of court news; and we'll talk with them too,
Who loses and who wins, who's in, who's out;
And take upon 's the mystery of things,
As if we were God's spies: and we'll wear out,