Edm. I was contracted to them both; all three Now marry in an inftant.

Edg. Here comes Kent.

Enter Kent.

Alb. Produce the bodies, be they alive or dead. [Gonerill and Regan's bodies brought out. This judgment of the heav'ns, that makes us tremble, Touches us not with pity.O! is this he? The time will not allow the compliment, Which very manners urge.

Kent. I am come

To bid my King and mafter aye good night;
Is he not here?

Alb. Great thing of us forgot!

Speak, Edmund, where's the King? and where's Cordelia? See'st thou this object, Kent?

Kent. Alack, why thus?

Edm. Yet Edmund was belov'd:

The one the other poifon'd for my fake,

And after flew herself.

Alb. Even fo; cover their faces.

Edm. I pant for life; fome good I mean to do, Defpight of mine own nature. Quickly fend, (Be brief) into the caftle; for my writ

Is on the life of Lear and on Cordelia:

Nay, fend in time.

Alb. Run, run, O run

Edg. To whom, my Lord? who has the office?

Send thy token of reprieve.

Edm. Well thought on, take my fword,

Give it the Captain

Edg. Hafte thee for thy life.

[Exit Messenger

Edm. He hath commiffion from thy wife and me

To hang Cordelia in the prifon, and

To lay the blame upon her own despair.

Alb. The gods defend her! bear him hence awhile.

[Edmund is borne off.

Enter

Enter Lear, with Cordelia dead in his arms.

Lear. Howl, howl, howl, howl,--O you are men offtone, Had I your tongues and eyes, I'd use them fo,

That heaven's vault fhould crack: fhe's gone for ever!
I know, when one is dead, and when one lives;
She's dead as earth! lend me a looking-glafs,

If that her breath will mift or ftain the ftone,
Why then the lives.

Kent. Is this the promis'd end?

Lear. This feather ftirs, the lives; if it be fo, It is a chance which does redeem all forrows, That ever I have felt.

Kent. O my good mafter!

Lear. Pr'ythee, away

Edg. 'Tis noble Kent, your friend.

[Kneeling.

Lear. A plague upon you, murd'rous traitors all!
I might have fav'd her; now fhe's gone for ever!
Cordelia, Cordelia, ftay a little. Ha!-

What is't thou fay'ft? her voice was ever foft,
Gentle, and low; an excellent thing in woman.
I kill'd the flave, that was a hanging thee.
Gent. 'Tis true, my Lords, he did.

Lear. Did I not, fellow ?

I've seen the day, with my good biting faulchion
I would have made them fkip: I am old now,
And these fame croffes spoil me. Who are you?
Mine eyes are none o' th' beft.-I'll tell you strait.
Kent. If fortune brag of two fhe lov'd and hated,
One of them we behold.

Lear. Are you not Kent?

Kent. The fame; your fervant Kent;

Where is your fervant Caius?

Lear. 'Twas a good fellow, I can tell you that, (62) He'd ftrike, and quickly too:-he's dead and rotten.

(62) He's a good fellow, I can tell you that,

He'll frike and quickly too: he's dead and rotten.] We have feen Lear mad; but, never, a ftark fool till this moment; to tell us, that a dead and rotten man will trike quickly. But it was a stupidity of the editors, and not chargeable on the poet.

Kent

Kent. No, my good Lord, I am the very man,-
Lear. I'll fee that trait.

Kent. That, from your firft of difference and decay, Have follow'd your fad fteps

Lear. You're welcome hither.

Kent. Nor no man elfe ;--all's cheerless, dark, and dead: Your eldest daughters have fore-done themselves, And defp'rately are dead.

Lear. Ay, fo I think.

Alb. He knows not what he says; and vain is it, That we prefent us to him.

Edg. Very bootlefs.

Enter a Meffenger.

Mef. Edmund is dead, my Lord.

Alb. That's but a trifle.

You Lords and noble friends, know our intent
What comfort to this great decay may come,
Shall be apply'd. For us, we will refign,
During the life of this old majesty,

To him our abfolute power: to you, your rights,

[To Edgar With boot, and fuch addition as your honours Have more than merited. All friends fhall tafte The wages of their virtue, and all foes The cup of their defervings: O fee, fee

Lear. And my poor fool is hang'd: no, no, no life.

Why fhould a dog, a horfe, a rat have life,

And thou no breath at all? thou'lt come no more,
Never, never, never, never,
Pray you, undo this button.

never

Thank you, Sir;

Do you fee this look on her, look on her lips, (63), Look there, look there

[He dies. Edg.

(63) Do you fee this? look on her, look on her lips; Look there, look there.--] Our poet has taken the liberty in the catastrophe of this play to depart from the Chronicles; in which Lear is faid to be reinstated in his throne by Cordelia, and to have reign'd upwards of two years after his restoration. He might have done this for two reafons. Either, to heighten the compaffion towards the poor old King or to vary from another, but most execrable, dramatic

performance

Edg. He faints; my Lord,

Kent. Break heart, I pr'ythee, break!

Edg.

performance upon this ftory: which I certainly believe to have pre-
ceded our author's piece, and which none of our ftage- hiftorians ap-
pear to have had any knowledge of. The edition, which I have of
it, bears this title. The true chronicle hiftory of King LEIR, and his
three daughters, Gonorill, Ragan, and Cordella. As it hath bene di-
vers and fundry times lately afted. London; printed by Simon Stafford
for John Wright, and are to be fold at his shop at Chriftes Church dore
next Newgate Market. 1605. That Shakespeare, however, may ftand
acquitted from the leaft fufpicion of plagiarism, in the opinion of his
readers, I'll fubjoin a small tafte of this other anonymous author's abi-
dities both in conduct and diction. Leir, with one Perillus his friend,
embarks for France to try what reception he should find from his
daughter Cordella. When they come afhore, neither of them has a
rag of money: and they are forc'd to give their cloaks to the mariners
to pay for their paffage. This, no doubt, our playwright intended
for a mastery in diftrefs: as he must think it a notable fetch of in-
vention to bring the King and Queen of France difguis'd like rufticks,
travelling a long way on foot into the woods, with a basket of pro-
vifions, only that they may have the cafual opportunity of relieving
Leir and Perillus from being ftarv'd. Now for a little fpecimen of
ftyle, and dignity of thinking. Cordella, now Queen of France, and
in her own palace, comes in and makes this pathetick foliloquy.
I have been over negligent to day

In going to the temple of my god,
To render thanks for all his benefits,
Which he miraculously hath beftow'd on me;
In raifing me out of my mean eftate,
When as I was devoid of worldly friends;
And placing me in fuch a fweet content,
As far exceeds the reach of my deferts.
My kingly husband, mirrour of his time,
For zeal, for juftice, kindness, and for care,
To god, his fubjects, me, and common weale,
By his appointment was ordain'd for me.
I cannot with the thing that I do want;
I cannot want the thing, but I may have;
Save only this which I shall ne'er obtain,
My father's love; Oh, this I ne'er fhall gain.
I would abftain from any nutriment,
And pine my body to the very bones:
Barefoot I would on pilgrimage fet forth,
Unto the furtheft quarters of the earth,
And all my life time would I fackcloth wear,

And mourning-wife pour duft upon my head:

S

Edg. Look up, my Lord.

Kent. Vex not his ghoft: O, let him pafs! he hates him, That would upon the rack of this rough world Stretch him out longer.

Edg. He is

gone, indeed.

Kent. The wonder is, he hath endur'd fo long:
He but ufurpt his life.

Alb. Bear them from hence, our prefent business
Is general woe friends of my foul, you twain
Rule in this realm, and the gor'd ftate fuftain.
Kent. I have a journey, Sir, fhortly to go;
My mafter calls me; I must not fay, no.

[Dies.
Alb. The weight of this fad time we must obey, (64)
Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say.
The oldest hath borne moft; we, that are young,
Shall never see so much, nor live fo long.

[Exeunt with a dead March.

So he but to forgive me once would please,
That his grey hairs might go to heaven in peace.
And yet I know not how I him offended,
Or wherein justly I've deserved blame.
Oh fifters! you are much to blame in this;
It was not he, but you, that did me wrong.
-Yet, god forgive both him, and you, and me,
Ev'n as I do in perfect charity.

[Exit.

I will to church, and pray unto my Saviour, That, e'er I die, I may obtain his favour. This is, furely, fuch poetry as one might hammer out, Stans pede in uno; or, as our author fays, "it is the right butter-woman's rank "to market: and a man might verfify you fo eight years together, "dinners, and fuppers, and fleeping hours excepted."----- Again, Shakespeare was too well vers'd in Holing fhead not to know, that King Lear reign'd above 800 years before the period of chriftianity. The gods his King talks of are Jupiter, Juno, Apollo; and not any dei ies more modern than his own time. Licentious as he was in anachro nifms, he would have judg'd it an unpardonable abfurdity to have made a Briton of Cordella's time talk of her Saviour. And, his not being trapt into fuch ridiculous flips of ignorance, feems a plain proof to me that he ftole neither from his predeceffors, nor contemporaries of the English theatre, both which abounded in them.

(64) Alb. The weight of this fad time, &c.] This fpeech from the authority of the old 4to is rightly plac'd to Albany : in the edition by the players it is given to Edgar, by whom, I doubt not, it was of custom fpoken. And the cafe was this: He who play'd Edgar, being a more favourite actor, than he who perfonated Albany; in fpight of decorum, it was thought proper he should have the laft word.

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