SCENE VII.-A Tent in the French Camp. LEAR on a Bed, asleep; Physician, Gentleman, and Others, attending.

Enter CORDELIA and KENT.

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'erpaid.
All my reports go with the modest truth;
Nor more, nor clipp'd, but so.

Cor. Be better suited:

These weeds are memories of those worser hours;
I pr'ythee, put them off.

Kent. Pardon me, 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 it so, my good lord. How does the

king?

Phys. Madam, sleeps still.

Cor. O you kind gods,

[To the Physician.

Cure this great breach in his abused nature!

The untun'd and jarring senses, O, wind up

Of this child-changed father!

Phys. So please your majesty,

That we may wake the king? he hath slept long.

Cor. Be govern'd by your knowledge, and proceed

I'the sway of your own will. Is he arrayed?

Gent. Ay, madam; in the heaviness of his sleep, We put fresh garments on him.

Phys. Be by, good madam, when we do awake him;

I doubt not of his temperance.

Cor. Very well.

Phys. Please you, draw near.-Louder the music there.

Cor. O my dear father! Restoration, 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
Had challeng'd pity of them. Was this a face
To be expos'd against the warring winds?
To stand against the deep dread-bolted thunder?
In the most terrible and nimble stroke

Of quick, cross lightning? to watch (poor perdu !)
With this thin helm? Mine enemy's dog,

Though he had bit me, should have stood that night
Against my fire: And wast thou fain, poor father,
To hovel thee with swine, and rogues forlorn,

In short and musty straw? Alack, alack!
"Tis wonder, that thy life and wits at once

Had not concluded all.-He wakes; speak to him.
Phys. Madam, do you; 'tis fittest.

Cor. How does my royal lord? How fares your ma

jesty?

Lear. You do me wrong, to take me out o'the

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?

grave:

Lear. You are a spirit, I know; When did you die? Cor. Still, still, far wide!

Phys. He's scarce awake; let him alone awhile.
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 hands in benediction o'er me :-
No, sir, you must not kneel.

Lear. Pray, do not mock me:

I am a very foolish fond old man,

Fourscore and upward; 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 doubtful: 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

To 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.

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.

Cor. No cause, no cause.

Lear. Am I in France?

Kent. In your own kingdom, sir.

Lear. Do not abuse me.

Phys. Be comforted, good madam: the great rage,
You see, is cur'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.

Cor. Will❜'t please your highness walk?
Lear. You must bear with me:

Pray now, forget and forgive: I am old, and foolish.
[Exeunt LEAR, CORDELIA, Physician, and At-
tendants.

Gent. Holds it true, sir,

That the duke of Cornwall was so slain ?

Kent. Most certain, sir.

Gent. Who is conductor of his people?

Kent. As 'tis said,

The bastard son of Gloster.

Gent. 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 o'the kingdom

Approach apace.

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

[Erit.

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

[Exit.

ACT V.

SCENE I.-The Camp of the British Forces, near Dover.

Enter, with Drums and Colours, EDMUND, REGAN,
Officers, Soldiers, and Others.

Edm. Know of the duke, if his last purpose hold;
Or, whether since he is advised by aught
To change the course: He's full of alteration,
And self-reproving :-bring his constant pleasure.

[To an Officer, who goes out.

Reg. Our sister's man is certainly miscarried.
Edm. "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?

Edm. In honour'd love.

Reg. But have

you never found my brother's way

To the forefended place?

Edm. That thought abuses you.

Reg. I am doubtful that you have been conjunct

And bosom'd with her, as far as we call hers.

Edm. No, by mine honour, madam.

Reg. I never shall endure her: Dear my lord, Be not familiar with her.