XV. King Leir and his three Daughters. The reader has here an ancient ballad on the subject of King Lear, which (as a sensible female critic has well observed)* bears so exact an analogy to the argument of Shakspeare's play, that his having copied it could not be doubted, if it were certain that it was written before the tragedy. Here is found the hint of Lear's madness, which the old chronicles † do not mention, as also the extravagant cruelty exercised on him by his daughters: in the death of Lear they likewise very exactly coincide. The misfortune is, that there is nothing to assist us in ascertaining the date of the ballad but what little evidence arises from within ; this the reader must weigh, and judge for himself. It may be proper to observe, that Shakspeare was not the first of our dramatic poets who fitted the story of LEIR to the stage. His first 4to. edition is dated 1608; but three years before that, had been printed a play entitled The true Chronicle History of Leir and his three Daughters, Gonorill, Ragan, and Cordella, as it hath been divers and sundry times lately acted, 1605, 4to. This is a very poor and dull performance, but happily excited Shakspeare to undertake the subject, which he has given with very different incidents. It is remarkable, that neither the circumstances of Leir's madness; nor his retinue of a select number of knights; nor the affecting deaths of Cordelia and Leir, are found in that first dramatic piece: in all which Shakspeare concurs with this ballad. But to form a true judgment of Shakspeare's merit, the curious reader should cast his eye over that previous sketch: which he will find printed at the end of the * Mrs. Lennox. Shakspeare Illustrated, vol. iii. p. 302. + See Jeffery of Monmouth, Holingshed, &c., who relate Leir's history in many respects the same as the ballad. Twenty Plays of Shakspeare, republished from the quarto impressions by George Steevens, with such elegance and exactness, as led us to expect that fine edition of all the works of our great dramatic poet, which he hath since published. The following ballad is given from an ancient copy in the Golden Garland, bl. let. entitled, A lamentable Song of the Death of King Leir and his three Daughters. To the tune of When flying Fame. KING Leir once ruled in this land, Amongst those things that nature gave, Three daughters fair had he, So princely seeming beautiful, As fairer could not be. 5 And for your sake my bleeding heart Shall here be cut in twain, Ere that I see your reverend age And so will I, the second said; The worst of all extremities And serve your highness night and day That sweet content and quietness Discomforts may remove. In doing so, you glad my soul, The aged king reply'd; But what sayst thou, my youngest girl, How is thy love ally'd? My love (quoth young Cordelia then) And wilt thou shew no more, quoth he, Than doth thy duty bind? I well perceive thy love is small, When as no more I find: Henceforth I banish thee my court, Thou art no child of mine; Nor any part of this my realm. 45 40 35 309 25 Thy elder sisters loves are more My kingdome and my land, With those thy sisters be maintain'd Thus flattering speeches won renown, By these two sisters here: The third had causeless banishment, Yet was her love more dear: For poor Cordelia patiently Untill at last in famous France She gentler fortunes found; Though poor and bare, yet she was deem'd The fairest on the ground: Where when the king her virtues heard, And this fair lady seen, With full consent of all his court He made his wife and queen. Her father king Leir this while Forgetful of their promis'd loves, And living in queen Ragan's court, The eldest of the twain. 75 Nay, one she thought too much for him, 85 So took she all away, In hope that in her court, good king, He would no longer stay. Am I rewarded thus, quoth he, In giving all I have Unto my children, and to beg For what I lately gave? I'll go unto my Gonorell; My second child, I know, Will be more kind and pitiful, And will relieve my woe. Full fast he hies then to her court; Where when she heard his moan Return'd him answer, That she griev'd That all his means were gone: 100 |