To his great master: who, thereat enrag'd,

Flew on him, and amongst them fell'd him dead :
But not without that harmful stroke, which fince
Hath pluck'd him after.

Alb. This fhews you are above,

You Juftices, that these our nether crimes
So fpeedily can venge. But O poor Glo'fier!
Loft he his other eye?

Mef. Both, both, my lord.

This letter, Madam, craves a speedy answer: 'Tis from your fifter.

Gon. One way, I like this well;

But being widow, and my Glo'fter with her, 1
May all the building in my fancy pluck
Upon my hateful life, Another

The news is not fo tart.

way,

I'll read, and anfwer. [Exit.

Alb. Where was his fon, when they did take his eyes? Mef. Come with my lady hither.

Alb. He's not here.

Mef. No, my good lord, I met him back again.

Alb. Knows he the wickedness!

Mef. Ay, my good lord, 'twas he inform'd against him,

And quit the houfe of purpose, that their punishment Might have the freer courfe.

Alb. Glofter, I live

To thank thee for the love thou fhew'dft the King,

Tell me, what more thou know'ft. •

O

And to revenge thine eyes.

Come hither, friend,

[Exeunt.

SCENE,

DOVER.

Kent.!

Enter Kent, and a Gentleman.

Tknow you the reafon ?

HE King of France fo fuddenly gone back!

Gent. Something he left imperfect in the State, Which fince his coming forth is thought of, which Imports the Kingdom fo much fear and danger, That his Return was moft requir'd and necessary.

D 3

Kent.

Kent. Whom hath he left behind him General ? Gent. The Marefchal of France, Monfieur le Far. Kent. Did your letters pierce the Queen to any demonftration of grief?

Gent. 1, Sir, fhe took 'em, read 'em in my prefence; And now and then an ample tear trill'd down

Her delicate cheek: it feem'd, fhe was a Queen
Over her paffion, which, moft rebel-like,
Sought to be King o'er her.

Kent. O, then it mov'd her.

Gent. But not to Rage. Patience and Sorrow ftrove Which fhould exprefs her goodlieft; you have feen Sun-fhine and rain at once: her Smiles and Tears (22) Were like a wetter May. Thofe happiest smiles, That play'd on her ripe lip, feem'd not to know What guests were in her Eyes; which parted thence, As pearls from diamonds dropt.-In brief, Sorrow would be a rarity most belov'd,

If all could so become it.

Kent. Made fhe no verbal question?

Gent. Yes, once, or twice, fhe heav'd the Name of Father

Pantingly forth, as if it preft her heart,

Cry'd, fifters! fifters!

Shame of Ladies! fifters!

Kent! Father! Sifters! what? i'th' ftorm? i'th' night}
Let Pity ne'er believe it!- there she shook
The holy water from her heav'nly Eyes;

And, Clamour-motion'd, then away she started (23),

(22) ber Smiles and Tears

To

Were like a better day.] Mr. Pope, who thought fit to restore this Scene from the old Quarto, tacitly funk this Paffage upon us, because he did not understand it. Indeed, it is corrupt; and he might have done himself fome Honour in attempting the Cure; but Rhyme and Criticism, he has convinc'd us, do not always center in the fame Perfon. My Friend Mr. Warburton with very happy Sagacity ftruck out the Emendation, which I have inferted in the Text,

(23) And Clamour-moiften'd,] This Paffage, again, Mr. Pope funk upon us; and for the fame Reason, I suppose. Mr.

Warburton

The Stars above us, govern our conditions :
Elfe one self-mate and mate could not beget
Such diff'rent iffues. Spoke you with her fince?
Gent. No.

Kent. Was this before the King return'd ?

Gent. No, fince.

Kent. Well, Sir; the poor diftreffed Lear's in town; Who fometimes, in his better tune, remembers

What we are come about; and by no means

Will yield to fee his daughter.

Gent. Why, good Sir?

Kent. A fov'reign fhame fo bows him; his unkindness,
That ftript her from his benediction, turn'd her
To foreign cafualties, gave her dear rights

To his dog-hearted daughters; These things fting him
So venomously, that burning fhame detains him
From his Cordelia.

Gent. Alack, poor gentleman!

Kent. Of Albany's, and Cornwall's Pow'rs you heard

not?

Gent. 'Tis fo, they are a-foot.

Kent. Well, Sir, I'll bring you to our mafter Lear,

Warburton discover'd likewise, that this was corrupt: for tho Clamour, (as he obferves,) may distort the Mouth, it is not wont to moiften the Eyes. But clamour-motioned conveys a very beautiful Idea of Grief in Cordelia, and exactly in Charader. She bore her Grief hitherto, fays the Relater, in Silence; but being no longer able to contain it, and wanting to vent it in Groans and Cries, the flies away and retires to her Closet to deal with it in private. This He finely calls, Clamour-motion'd; or provok'd to a loud Expreffion of her Sorrow, which drives her from Company! It is not impoffible, but Shakespeare might have form'd this fine Picture of Cordelia's Agony from Holy Writ, in the Condu& of JoSeph; who, being no longer able to reftrain the Vehemence of his Affection, commanded all his Retinue from his Prefence; and then wept aloud, and discover'd himself to his Brethren,

And leave you to attend him. Some dear caufe
Will in Concealment wrap me up awhile:
When I am known aright, you shall not grieve
Lending me this acquaintance. Pray, along with me.

Cor.

SCENE, a CAMP.

[Exeunt.

Enter Cordelia, Phyfician, and Soldiers.

A

LACK, 'tis he; why, he was met even now As mad as the vext fea; finging aloud; Crown'd with rank fumiterr, and furrow-weeds, (24) With hardocks, hemlock, nettles, cuckoo-flowers, Darnel, and all the idle weeds that grow

In our fuftaining corn.

Send forth a cent'ry;
Search every acre in the high-grown field,

And bring him to our eye. What can man's Wisdom
In the restoring his bereaved fenfe,

He, that helps him, take all my outward worth.
Phyf. There are means, Madam:

Our fofter nurse of nature is repofe ;
The which he lacks; that to provoke in him,
Are many Simples operative, whose power
Will clofe the eye of anguish.

(24) Crown'd with rank Fenitar;] There is no fuch Herb, or Weed, that I can find, of English Growth; tho' all the Copies agree in the Corruption. I dare fay, I have reftor'd its right Name; and we meet with it again in our Author's Henry V. and partly in the fame Company as we have it here;

her fallow Leas

The darnel, hemlock, and rank fumitory

De root upon.

A

. For this Weed is call'd both Fumitory and Fumiterr, nearer to the French Derivation Fume-terre: which the Latin Shopmen term Fumaria. I observe, in Chaucer it is written Femetere; by a Corruption either of the Scribe, or of vulgar Pronunciation; if of the latter, it might from thence cafily flide, in progress of time, into Fenitar.

Cor.

Cer. All bleft Secrets,

All you unpublish'd Virtues of the Earth,
Spring with my tears; be aidant, and remediate
In the good man's diftrefs! feek, feek for him;
Left his ungovern'd rage diffolve the life,
That wants the means to lead it.

Enter a Meffenger.

Mef. News, Madam:

The British Pow'rs are marching hitherward.
Cor. 'Tis known before. Our preparation stands
In expectation of them. O dear father,

It is thy business that I go about:
: therefore great France
My Mourning and important Tears hath pitied.
No blown ambition doth our arms incite,

But love, dear love, and our ag'd father's right:
Soon may I hear, and fee him!

[Exeunt.

SCENE, Regan's PALACE.

Reg. B

Enter Regan, and Steward.

UT are my Brother's Powers fet forth ?
Stew. Ay, Madam.

Reg. Himfelf in perfon there?

Stew. With much adoe.

Your fifter is the better foldier.

Reg. Lord Edmund spake not with your lady at home?

Stew. No, Madam.

Reg. What might import my fifter's letter to him?
Stew. I know not, lady.

Reg. Faith, he is pofted hence on serious matter.
It was great ign'rance, Glofter's eyes being out,
To let him live; where he arrives, he moves
All hearts against us: Edmund, I think, is gone,
In pity of his misery, to dispatch

His nighted life: moreover, to descry

The ftrength o'th' enemy.

Stew. I muft needs after him, Madam, with my letter.

D 5

Reg.