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Stew. Madam, within; but never man fo chang'd: I told him of the army that was landed; He smild at it. I told him you were coming; His answer was, The worse. Of Glo'ster's treachery, And of the loyal service of his son, When I inform'd him, then he call'd me Sot. What most he should dislike, feems pleasant to him; What like, offensive.

Gon. Then shall you go no further. [To Edm. It is the cowish terror of his fpirit, That dares not undertake. Back, Edmund, to my

brother; Haften his mufters, and conduct his powers. I must change arms at home, and give the diftaff Into my husband's hands. This trusty servant Shall pass between us : You ere long shall hear, you

dare venture on your own behalf, A mistress's command. Conceive, and fare thee

well. Edm. Yours in the ranks of death.

Gon. My most dear Glo'ster! [Exit Edm. Oh, the strange difference of man and man! To thee a woman's services are due, My fool usurps my duty.

Stew. Madam, here comes my lord. [Exit.

If

Enter

Enter Albany: Alb. Oh, Gonerill, what have

you

done? Tigers, not daughters, what have you perform’d? A father and a gracious aged man, Most barb'rous, most degen’rate, have you madded. How could my brother suffer you to do it, A man, a prince by him so benefited ?

Gon. Milk-liver'd man ! That bear'st a cheek for blows, a head for wrongs; Where's thy drum? France spreads his banners in our noiseless land, Whilst thou, a moral fool, fit'st still, and criest, • Alack! why does he fo?”. Alb. Thou chang'd, and self-converted thing!

for shame, Be-monster not thy feature.

Enter Messenger
Mes. Oh, my good lord, the duke of Cornwall's

dead;

Slain by his servant, going to put out
The earl of Glo'ster's eyes.

Alb. Glo'ster's eyes!
Mel. A fervant, that he bred, thrilld with

remorse,
Oppos’d the horrid act ; bending his sword

Against

Against his master: Who, thereat enrag'd,
Flew on him, and amongst them felld him dead:
But not without that harmful stroke, which fince
Hath pluck'd him after.

Alb. This shews You are above,
You Justicers, that these our nether crimes
So speedily can 'venge! But oh, poor Glo'ster!
Where was his fon when they did take his eyes?

Mel. Come with my lady hither.
Alb. He's not here.
Mef. No, my good lord; he is return'd again.
Alb. Knows he the'wickedness?
Mef. Ay, my good lord; 'twas he informid

against him, And quit the house of purpose, that their punish

ment

Might have the freer course.

Alb. Glo'ster, I live To thank thee for the love thou shew'dst the king, And to revenge thine eyes. Come hither, friend, Tell me what more thou know'st. [Going, returns. See thyself, Gonerill! Proper deformity shews not in the fiend, So horrid as in woman.

[Exe. Alb. and Mel Gon. Oh, vain fool! That haft not in thy brows an eye discerning VOL. III.

N

Thine

Thine honour from thy suffering !

Enter Steward, with a letter. Stew. This letter, madam, craves a speedy answer: 'Tis from your sister. Cornwall being dead, His loss your sister has in part supplied, , Making earl Edmund general of her forces.

Gon. One way I like this well: But being widow, and my Glo'ster with her, May pluck down all the building of my love. I'll read, and answer these dispatches straight. It was great ign'rance, Glo'ster's eyes being out, To let him live. Add speed unto your journey, And if

you chance to meet that old blind traitor, Preferment falls on him that cuts him off. [Exeunt.

Scene, Dover.

Enter Kent and a Gentleman. Kent. Did your letters pierce the queen to any demonstration of grief? Gent. Yes, Sir ;' she took 'em, read 'em in my

presence; And now and then a big round tear ran down Her delicate cheek : Much mov’d, but not to rage, Patience with sorrow strove. Her smiles and tears Were like a wetter May.

Kent.

Kent. Spoke you with her since ?
Gent. No.
Kent. Well, Sir; the poor distressed Lear's in

town;
Who sometimes, in his better tüne remembers
What we are come about; and by no means
Will yield to fee Cordelia.

Gent. Why, good Sir?
Kent. A fou'reign shame so bows him; his un-

kindness,
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

him So venomously, that burning shame detains him From his dear daughter.

Gent. Alack, poor gentleman!
Kent. Of Albany's and Cornwall's pow'rs you

heard ?
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. Pray, along with

[Exeunt. N2

Scene,

me.

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