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The
Tragedy
of
King
Lear.
That
follow’d
me
so
near,
(O
our
lives
sweetness!
That
we
the
pain
of
Death
would
hourly
die,
Rather
than
die
at
once)
taught
me
to
shift
Into
a
Mad-mans
rags,
t’
assume
a
semblance
That
very
Dogs
disdain’d:
and
in
this
habit
Met
I
my
Father
with
his
bleeding
Rings,
Their
precious
Stones
new
lost:
became
his
guide,
Led
him,
beg’d
for
him,
sav’d
him
from
despair,
Never
(O
fault)
reveal’d
my
self
unto
him,
Until
some
half
hour
past,
when
I
was
arm’d,
Not
sure,
though
hoping
of
this
good
success,
I
ask’d
his
blessing,
and
from
first
to
last
Told
him
our
Pilgrimage.
But
this
flaw’d
heart
(Alack
too
weak
the
conflict
to
support)
’Twixt
two
extreams
of
passion,
joy
and
grief,
Burst
smilingly.
Bast.
This
Speech
of
yours
hath
mov’d
me,
And
shall
perchance
do
good,
but
speak
you
on,
You
look
as
you
had
something
more
to
say.
Alb.
If
there
be
more,
more
woful,
hold
it
in,
For
I
am
almost
ready
to
dissolve,
Hearing
of
this.
Enter
a
Gentleman.
Gent.
Help,
Help;
O
help.
Edg.
What
kind
of
help?
Alb.
Speak
man.
Edg.
What
means
this
bloudy
Knife?
Gent.
’Tis
hot,
it
smoaks,
came
even
from
the
heart
of—
O
she’s
dead.
Alb.
Who’s
dead?
Speak
man.
Gent.
Your
Lady
Sir,
your
Lady;
and
her
Sister
By
her
is
poyson’d:
she
confesses
it.
Bast.
I
was
contracted
to
them
both,
all
three
Now
marry
in
an
instant.
Edg.
Here
comes
Kent.
Enter
Kent.
Alb.
Produce
the
Bodies,
be
they
live
or
dead.
[Gonerill
and
Regans
Bodies
brought
out.
This
judgment
of
the
Heavens
that
makes
us
tremble.
Touches
us
not
with
pitty.
O!
is
this
she?
The
time
will
not
allow
the
complement
Which
very
manners
urge.
Kent.
I
am
come
To
bid
my
King
and
Master
aye
good
night,
Is
he
not
here?
Alb.
Great
thing
of
us
forgot,
Speak
Edmund,
where’s
the
King?
and
where’s
Cordelia?
Seest
thou
this
object,Kent.
Kent.
Alack,
why
thus?
Bast.
Yet
Edmund
was
belov’d:
The
one
the
other
poison’d
for
my
sake,
And
after,
flew
her
self.
Alb.
Even
so:
cover
their
Faces.
Bast.
I
pant
for
life:
some
good
I
mean
to
do
Despight
of
mine
own
Nature.
Quickly
send,
(Be
brief
in
it)
to
th’Castle
for
my
Writ
Is
on
the
life
of
Lear,
and
Cordelia:
Nay,
send
in
time.
Alb.
Run,
run,
O
run.
Edg.
To
whom
my
Lord?
Who
has
the
Office?
Send
thy
token
of
reprieve.
Bast.
Well
thought
on,
take
my
Sword,
Give
it
the
Captain.
Edg.
Haste
thee
for
thy
life.
Bast.
He
hath
Commission
from
thy
Wife
and
me,
To
hang
Cordelia
in
the
Prison,
and
To
lay
the
blame
upon
her
own
despair,
That
she
fore
did
her
self.
Alb.
The
gods
defend
her,
bear
him
hence
a
while.
Enter
Lear
with
Cordelia
in
his
arms.
Lear.
Howl,
howl,
howl:
O
you
are
men
of
stones
Had
I
your
Tongues
and
Eyes,
I’ld
use
them
so,
That
Heavens
Vault
should
crack:
she’s
gone
for
ever
I
know
when
one
is
dead,
and
when
one
lives,
She’s
dead
as
Earth:
Lend
me
a
Looking-Glass
If
that
her
breath
will
mist
or
stain
the
stone,
Why
then
she
lives.
Kent.
Is
this
the
promis’d
end?
Edg.
Or
image
of
that
horror.
Alb.
Fall
and
cease.
Lear.
This
Feather
stirs,
she
lives:
if
it
be
so,
It
is
a
chance
which
do’s
redeem
all
sorrows
That
ever
I
have
felt.
Kent.
Oh
my
good
Master.
Lear.
Prethee
away.
Edg.
’Tis
noble
Kent
your
Friend.
Lear.
A
plague
upon
you
Murtherers,
Traitors
all,
I
might
have
sav’d
her,
now
she’s
gone
for
ever:
Cordelia,
Cordelia,
stay
a
little.
Ha.
What
is’t
thou
saist?
her
Voice
was
ever
soft,
Gentle,
and
low,
an
excellent
thing
in
Woman.
I
kill’d
the
slave
that
was
a
hanging
thee.
Gent.
’Tis
true
(my
Lords)
he
did.
Lear.
Did
I
not,
Fellow?
I
have
seen
the
day,
with
my
good
biting
Faulchion
I
would
have
made
him
skip:
I
am
old
now,
And
these
same
crosses
spoil
me.
Who
are
you?
Mine
Eyes
are
o’
th’best,
I’ll
tell
you
straight.
Kent.
If
Fortune
brag
of
two,
she
lov’d
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,
Have
follow’d
your
sad
steps.
Lear.
You
are
welcom
hither.
Kent.
Nor
no
man
else:
Alls
cheerless,
dark,
and
deadly:
Your
eldest
Daughters
have
fore-done
themselves,
And
desperately
are
dead.
Lear.
I,
so
I
think.
Alb.
He
knows
not
what
he
sayes,
and
vain
is
it
That
we
present
us
to
him.
Enter
a
Messenger.
Edg.
Very
bootless.
Mes.
Edmund
is
dead,
my
Lord.
Alb.
That’s
but
a
trifle
here:
You
Lords
and
noble
Friends
know
our
intent,
What
comfort
to
this
great
decay
may
come,
Shall
be
appli’d.
For
us
we
will
resign,
During
the
life
of
this
old
Majesty,
To
him
our
absolute
power,
you
to
your
rights,
With
boot,
and
such
addition
as
your
Honours
Have
more
than
merited.
All
Friends
shall
Taste
the
wages
of
their
virtue,
and
all
Foes
The
Cup
of
their
deservings:
O
see,
see.
Lear.
And
my
poor
Fool
is
hang’d:
No,
no,
no
life?
Why
should
a
Dog,
a
Horse,
a
Rat
have
life,
And
thou
no
breath
at
all?
Thou’st
come
no
more,
Never,
never,
never,
never,
never.
Pray
you
undo
this
Button.
Thank
you,
Sir,
Do
you
see
this?
look
on
her,
look
on
her
Lips,
Look
there,
look
there.
[He
dies.
Edg.
He
faints,
my
Lord.
Kent.
Break
heart,
I
prethee
break.
Edg.