rather confider the injured father than the degraded king.

The ftory of this play, except the epifode of Edmund, which is derived, I think, from Sidney, is taken originally from Geoffry of Monmouth, whom Holling bead generally copied; but perhaps immediately from an old historical ballad, of which I fhall infert the greater part. My reafon for believing that the play was pofteriour to the ballad rather than the ballad to the play, is, that the ballad has no

thing of Shakespeare's nocturnal tempeft, which is too ftriking to have been omitted, and that it follows the chronicle; it has the rudiments of the play, but none of its amplifications: it first hinted Lear's madnefs, but did not array it in circumstances. The writer of the ballad added fomething to the hiftory, which is a proof that he would have added more, if more had occurred to his mind, and more must have occurred if he had feen ShakeSpeare.

King Lear once ruled in this land
With princely power and peace,'
And had all things, with heart's content,
That might his joys increase.
Amongst thofe things that nature gave
Three daughters fair had he,
So princely feeming beautiful,
As fairer could not be.

Her father, old King Lear, this while
With his two daughters ftaid;
Forgetful of their promis'd loves,
Full foon the fame denayd;
And living in Queen Regan's court,
The eldest of the twain,

She took from him his chiefeft means,
And most of all his train.

For whereas twenty men were wont
To wait with bended knee,
She gave allowance but to ten,

And after scarce to three ;

Nay one the thought too much for him :
So took fhe 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 Gonerill;

My fecond child, I know,
Will be more kind and pitiful,
And will relieve my woe.

Full faft he hies then to her court,
Where when she hears his moan,
Return'd him anfwer, that fhe griev'd
That all his means were gone,
But no way could relieve his wants:
Yet if that he would stay
Within her kitchen, he should have

What fcullions gave away.

When he had heard with bitter tears,
He made his answer then ;

In what I did let me be made
Example to all men.

I will return again, quoth he,
Unto my Regan's court:

She will not ufe me thus I hope,
But in a kinder fort.

VOL. VI.

M

Where

Where when he came fhe gave command
To drive him thence away:
When he was well within her court,
She faid, he would not stay.
Then back again to Gonerill
The woeful King did hie,

That within her kitchen he might have
What fcullion boys fet by.

But there of that he was deny'd,
Which the had promis'd late:
For once refufing, he should not
Come after to her gate.

Thus 'twixt his daughters, for relief
He wander'd up and down;
Being glad to feed on beggars' food
That lately wore a crown.

And calling to remembrance then
His youngest daughter's words;
That faid, the duty of a child
Was all that love affords.
But doubting to repair to her,
Whom he had banish'd fo,
Grew frantick mad; for in his mind

He bore the wounds of woe.

Which make him rend his milk-white locks

And treffes from his head,

And all with blood beftain his cheeks,

With age and honour spread.

To hills and woods, and wat'ry founts,
He made his hourly moan,

Till hills and woods, and fenfelefs things,

Did feem to figh and groan.

Ev'n thus poffefs'd with difcontents,

He paffed o'er to France,

In hope from fair Cordelia there

To find fome gentler chance.

Moft virtuous Dame! which when she heard

Of this her father's grief,

As duty bound, fhe quickly fent

Him comfort and relief.

And by a train of noble peers,
In brave and gallant fort,

She gave in charge he should be brought
To Aganippus court;

Whofe royal King, whofe noble mind,

So freely gave confent,

To mufter up

his knights at arms,

To fame and courage bent.

And fo to England came with speed
To repoffefs King Lear,

And drive his daughters from their thrones
By his Cordelia dear:

Where she, true hearted noble Queen,

Was in the battle flain;

Yet he, good King, in his old days,
Poffefs'd his crown again.

But when he heard Cordelia's death,
Who dy'd indeed for love

Of her dear father, in whose cause
She did this battle move,
He fwooning fell upon her breast,
From whence he never parted;
But on her bofom left his life,
That was fo truly hearted.

The lords and nobles when they faw
The ends of these events,
The other fifters unto death
They doomed by confents.

And being dead their crowns they left
Unto the next of kin.

Thus have you seen the fall of pride
And difobedient fin.

T