Page 35
The
Tragedy
of
King
Lear.
Scena
Septima.
Enter
Cordelia,
Kent
and
Gentleman.
Cor.
O
thou
good
Kent,
How
shall
I
live
and
work
To
match
thy
goodness?
My
life
will
be
too
short,
And
every
measure
fail
me.
Kent.
To
be
acknowledg’d
Madam
is
o’re-paid,
All
my
reports
go
with
the
modest
truth,
Nor
more,
nor
clipt,
but
so.
Cor.
Be
better
suited,
These
weeds
are
memories
of
those
worser
hours:
I
prethee
put
them
off.
Kent.
Pardon,
dear
Madam,
Yet
to
be
known
shortens
my
made
intent,
My
boon
I
make
it,
that
you
know
me
not,
Till
time,
and
I
think
meet.
Cor.
Then
be’t
so
my
good
Lord:
How
do’s
the
King?
Gent.
Madam,
sleeps
still.
Cor.
O
you
kind
gods!
Cure
this
great
breach
in
his
abused
Nature,
Th’untun’d
and
jarring
senses,
O
wind
up,
Of
this
child
changed
Father,
Gent:
So
please
your
Majesty.
That
we
may
wake
the
King,
he
hath
slept
long?
Cor.
Be
govern’d
by
your
knowledge,
and
proceed
I’th’
sway
of
your
own
will:
is
he
array'd?
Enter
Lear
in
a
Chair,
carried
by
Servants.
Gent.
I
Madam:
in
the
heaviness
of
sleep,
We
put
fresh
garments
on
him.
Be
by,
good
Madam,
when
we
do
awake
him,
I
doubt
not
of
his
Temperance.
Cor.
O
my
dear
Father,
restauration
hang
Thy
medicine
on
my
lips,
and
let
this
kiss
Repair
those
violent
harms,
that
my
two
Sisters
Have
in
thy
Reverence
made.
Kent.
Kind
and
dear
Princess.
Cor.
Had
you
not
been
their
Father,
these
white
flakes
Did
challenge
pity
of
them.
Was
this
face
To
be
oppos’d
against
the
jarring
winds?
Mine
Enemies
dog,
though
he
had
bit
me,
Should
have
stood
that
night
against
my
fire,
And
was’t
thou
fain
(poor
Father)
To
hovell
thee
with
Swine
and
Rogues
forlorn,
In
short,
and
musty
straw?
alack,
alack,
’Tis
wonder
that
my
life
and
wits,
at
once
Had
not
concluded
all.
He
wakes,
speak
to
him.
Gent.
Madam,
do
you,’tis
fittest.
Cor.
How
does
my
Royal
Lord?
How
fares
your
Majesty?
Lear.
You
do
me
wrong
to
take
me
out
oth’grave;
Thou
art
a
Soul
in
bliss,
but
I
am
bound
Upon
a
wheel
of
fire,
that
mine
own
tears
Do
scald,
like
molten
Lead.
Cor.
Sir,
do
you
know
me?
Lear.
You
are
a
Spirit
I
know,
when
did
you
die?
Cor.
Still,
still,
far
wide.
Gent.
He’s
scarce
awake,
Let
him
alone
a
while.
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
know
not
what
to
say:
I
will
not
swear
these
are
my
hands:
let’s
see,
I
feel
this
pin
prick,
would
I
were
assur’d
Of
my
condition,
Cor.
O
look
upon
me,
Sir,
And
hold
your
hand
in
benediction
o’re
me,
You
must
not
kneel.
Lear.
Pray
do
not
mock
me;
I
am
a
very
foolish
fond
old
man,
Fourscore
and
upward,
Not
an
hour
more,
nor
less:
And
to
deal
plainly,
I
fear
I
am
not
in
my
perfect
mind.
Methinks
I
should
know
you,
and
know
this
man,
Yet
I
am
doubtfull:
for
I
am
mainly
ignorant
What
place
this
is,
and
all
the
skill
I
have
Remembers
not
these
garments:
nor
I
know
not
Where
I
did
lodge
last
night.
Do
not
laugh
at
me,
For
(as
I
am
a
man)
I
think
this
Lady
lo
be
my
child
Cordelia.
Cor.
And
so
I
am:
I
am,
Lear.
Be
your
tears
wet?
Yes
faith:
I
pray
weep
not.
If
you
have
poison
for
me,
I
will
drink
it:
1
know
you
do
not
love
me,
for
your
Sisters
Have
(as
I
do
remember)
done
me
wrong.
You
have
some
cause,
they
have
not.
Cor.
No
cause,
no
cause.
Lear.
Am
I
in
France?
Kent.
In
your
own
Kingdom,
Sir,
Lear.
Do
not
abuse
me.
Gent.
Be
comforted,
good
Madam,
the
great
rage
You
see
is
kill’d
in
him:
desire
him
to
go
in,
Trouble
him
no
more
till
further
setling.
Cor.
Wilt
please
your
highness
walk?
Lear.
You
must
bear
with
me:
Pray
you
now
forget,
and
forgive,
I
am
old
and
foolish.
[Exeunt.
Actus
Quintus.
Scena
Prima.
Enter
with
Drum
and
Colours,
Edmund,
Regan,
Gentlemen,
and
Souldiers.
Bast.
KNow
of
the
Duke
if
his
last
purpose
hold,
Or
whether
since
he
is
advis’d
by
ought
To
change
the
course,
he’s
full
of
alteration,
And
self
reproving,
bring
his
constant
pleasure.
Reg.
Our
Sisters
man
is
certainly
miscarried.
Bast.
'Tis
to
be
doubted,
Madam.
Reg.
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?
Bast.
In
honour’d
Love.
Reg.
But
have
you
never
found
my
Brothers
way,
To
the
fore-fended
place?
Bast.
No
by
mine
honour,
Madam.
Reg.
I
never
shall
endure
her,
dear
my
Lord,
Be
not
familiar
with
her.
Bast.
Fear
not,
she
and
the
Duke
her
husband.
Enter
with
Drum
and
Colours,
Albany,
Goneril,
Souldiers.
Alba.
Our
very
loving
Sister,
well
be
met:
Sir,
this
I
heard,
the
King
is
come
to
his
Daughter
With
others,
whom
the
rigour
of
our
State
Forc’d
to
cry
out.
Reg.
Why
is
this
reason’d?
Gon.
Combine
together
’gainst
the
Enemy:
For
these
domestick,
and
particular
broils,
Are
not
the
question
here.
Alb.
Let’s
then
determine
with
th’ancient
of
war
On
our
proceeding.
Reg.
Sister,
you’ll
go
with
us?
Gon.
No.
Reg.
’Tis
most
convenient,
pray
go
with
us.
Gon.
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