France spreads his banners in our noiseless land;
With plumed helm thy slayer begins threats ;
Whilst thou, a moral fool, sitt'st still, and criest,
“ Alack! why does he so ?”
Alb.

See thyself, devil !
Proper deformity seems not in the fiend
So borrid, as in woman.
Gon.

i. O vain fool!!
Alb. Thou changed and self-cover'd thing, for shame,
Be-monster not thy feature. Were it my fitness
To let these hands obey my blood,
They are apt enough to dislocate and tear
Thy flesh and bones : howe'er thou art a fiend,
A woman's shape doth shield thee.

Gon. Marry, your manhood now !

Enter a Messenger.

Alb. What news?
Mess. O, my good lord! the duke of Cornwall's

dead;
Slain by his servant, going to put out
The other eye of Gloster.
Alb.

Gloster's eyes !
Mess. A servant that he bred, thrill'd with remorse,
Oppos'd against the act, bending his sword
To his great master; who, thereat enrag'd',
Flew on him, and amongst them felld him dead,
But not without that harmful stroke, which since
Hath pluck’d him after.
Alb.

This shows you are above, You justicers”, that these our nether crimes

10 vain fool!] What follows these words, until the entrance of the Messenger, and Albany's question, “ What news ?” is only in the quartos.

2 — who, THEREAT ENRAGED,] The folio prints it “ threat-enrag'd,” a striking compound word, which might be right, if the quartos did not contradict it, and if the verse were not thereby injured.

3 You justicers,] Two of the quartos read “your justices," a third "you justicers," and the folio “ you justices.” We have had “justicers” before.

VOL. VII.

G

So speedily can venge !-But, O poor Gloster !
Lost he his other eye?
Mess.

Both, both, my lord.—
This letter, madam, craves a speedy answer;
'Tis from your sister.

Gon. [Aside.] One way I like this well; But being widow, and my Gloster with her, May all the building in my fancy pluck Upon my hateful life“. Another way, The news is not so tart”. [To him.] I'll read, and answer.

(Erit. Alb. Where was his son, when they did take his

eyes? Mess. Come with my lady hither. Alb.

He is not here. Mess. No, my good lord; I met him back again. Alb. Knows he the wickedness? Mess. Ay, my good lord ; 'twas he inform'd against

him,
And quit the house, on purpose that their punishment
Might have the freer course.
Alb.

Gloster, I live
To thank thee for the love thou show’dst the king,
And to revenge thine eyes.—Come hither, friend:
Tell me what more thou knowest.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.

ver.

The French Camp near Dover.

Enter Kent, and a Gentleman. Kent. Why the king of France is so suddenly gone back, know you the reason?

Gent. Something he left imperfect in the state,
Which since his coming forth is thought of; which
Imports to the kingdom so much fear and danger,
That his personal return was most requir'd,
And necessary.

Kent. Whom hath he left behind him general ?
Gent. The Mareschal of France, Monsieur le Fer.

Kent. Did your letters pierce the queen to any demonstration of grief? Gent. Ay, sir?; she took them, read them in my pre

sence;
And now and then an ample tear trill'd down
Her delicate cheek: it seem’d, she was a queen
Over her passion, who, most rebel-like,
Sought to be king o'er her.
Kent.

O! then it mov’d her. Gent. Not to a rage: patience and sorrow strove Who should express her goodliest. You have seen Sunshine and rain at once: her smiles and tears Were like a better Mayo: those happy smilets,

That play'd on her ripe lip, seem'd not to know
What guests were in her eyes; which parted thence,
As pearls from diamonds dropp’d.—In brief, sorrow
Would be a rarity most belov’d, if all
Could so become it.
Kent.

Made she no verbal question ? Gent. 'Faith, once, or twice, she heav'd the name of

“father”
Pantingly forth, as if it press'd her heart;
Cried, “ Sisters! sisters !—Shame of ladies! sisters!
Kent! father! sisters! What? i the storm ? i the

night?
Let pity not be believed !”—There she shook
The holy water from her heavenly eyes,
And clamour moisten’d?': then, away she started
To deal with grief alone.
Kent.

It is the stars,
The stars above us, govern our conditions ;
Else one self mate and mate' could not beget
Such different issues. You spoke not with her since ?

Gent. No.
K’ent. Was this before the king return’d?
Gent.

No, since. Kent. Well, sir, the poor distress'd Lear's i’ the

town,
Who sometime, in his better tune, remembers
What we are come about, and by no means
Will yield to see his daughter.
Gent.

Why, good sir?
Kent. A sovereign shame so elbows him ; his own

unkindness, That stripp'd her from his benediction, turn'd her

To foreign casualties, gave her dear rights
To his dog-hearted daughters : these things sting
His mind so venomously, that burning shame
Detains him from Cordelia.
Gent.

Alack, poor gentleman ! Kent. Of Albany's and Cornwall's powers you heard

not? Gent. 'Tis so they are afoot.

Kent. Well, sir, I'll bring you to our master Lear, And leave you to attend him. Some dear cause Will in concealment wrap me up awhile: When I am known aright, you shall not grieve Lending me this acquaintance. I pray you, go Along with me.

[Excunt.

SCENE IV.

The Same. A Tent.

even now

Enter CORDELIA, Physician, and Soldiers. Cor. Alack ! 'tis he: why, he was met even now As mad as the vex'd sea : singing aloud; Crown'd with rank fumiter, and furrow weeds, With hoar-docks?, hemlock, nettles, cuckoo-flowers, Darnel, and all the idle weeds that grow In our sustaining corn.-A century send forth ; Search every acre in the high-grown field, And bring him to our eye. [Exit an Officer.] — What

can man's wisdom, In the restoring his bereaved sense? He, that helps him, take all my outward worth.