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Gonerill. Why not by the hand, sir? How have I offended ?
All's not offence, that indiscretion finds,
And dotage terms so.

Lear. O, sides, you are too tough !
Will you get hold -How came my man i' the stocks ?

Cornwall. I set him there, sir; but his own disorders
Deserv'd much less advancement.

Lear. You ! did you ?

Regan. I pray you, father, being weak, seem so.
If, till the expiration of your month,
You will return and sojourn with my sister,
Dismissing half your train, come then to me;
I am now from home, and out of that provision
Which shall be peedful for your entertainment.

Lear. Return to her, and fifty men dismiss'd ?
No, rather I abjure all roofs, and choose
To be a comrade with the wolf and owl-
To wage against the enmity o' the air,
Necessity's sharp pinch !

-Return with her!
Why, the hot-blooded France, that dowerless took
Our youngest born, I could as well be brought
To knee his throne, and squire-like pension beg
To keep base life afoot. -Return with her !
Persuade me rather to be slave and sumpter
To this detested groom.

(Looking on the Stewards Gonerill. At your choice, sir.

Lear. Now, I pr’ythee, daughter, do not make me mad;
I will not trouble thee, my child ; farewell :
We'll no more meet, no more see one another :-
But yet thou art my flesh, my blood, iny daughter ;
Or, rather, a disease that's in my flesh,
Which I must needs call mine : thou art a bile,
A plague-sore, an embossed carbuocle,
In my corrupted blood. But I'll not chide thee;
Let shame come when it will, I do not call it :
I did not bid the thunder-bearer shoot,
Nor tell tales of thee to high-judging Jove :

Tend, wlien thou canst ; he better, at thy leisure :
I can be patient; I can stay with Regan,
1, and my bundred knights.

Regan. Not altogether so, sir ;
I look'd not for you yet, nor am provided

For your fit welcome : Give ear, sir, to my sister ;
For those that mingle reason with your passion
Must be content to think you old, and so
But she knows what she does.

Lear. Is this well spoken now?

Regan. I dare avouch it, sir : What, fifty followers ?
Is it not well? What should you need of more !
Yea, or so many ? Sith that both charge and danger
Speak 'gainst so great a number? How, in one house,
Should many people, under two commands,
Hold amity ? 'Tis hard; almost impossible. /

Gonerill. Why might not you, my lord, receive attendance
From those that she calls servants, or from mine ?
Regan. Why not, my lord ? If then they chanc'd to slack -

you,
We would control them : if you will come to me
(For now I spy a danger) 1 entreat you
To bring but five and twenty ; to no more
Will I give place, or notice.

Lear. I gave you all-
Regan. And in good time you gave it,

Lear. Made you my guardians, my depositaries ;
But kept a reservation to be follow'd
With such a number : , what, must I come to you
With five and twenty, Regan ! said you so ?

Regan. And speak it again, my lord ; no more with me.

Lear. Those wicked creatures yet do look well-favour'd,
When others are more wicked ; not being the worst,
Stands in some rank of praise :- -I'll go with thee;

[To Gonerill. Thy fifty yet doth double five and twenty, And thou art twice her love.

Gonerill. Hear me, my lord ;
What need you five and twenty, ten, or five,
To follow in a house, where twice so many
Have a command to tend you?

Regan. What need one ?

Lear. O, reason not the need : our basest beggars
Are in the poorest thing superfluous :
Allow not pature more than pature needs,

Man's life is cheap as beast's: thou art a lady ;
If only to go warm were gorgeous,
Why, nature needs not what thou gorgeous wear'st ;
Which scarcely keeps thee warm.But, for true need-
You heavens, give me that patience which I need !
You see me here, you gods; a poor old man,
As full of grief as age; wretched in both !
If it be you that stir these daughters' hearts
Against their father, fool me not so much
To bear it tamely ; touch me with noble anger !
0, let no woman's weapons, water-drops,
Stain my man's cheeks !--No, you unnatural bags,
I will have such revenges on you both,
That all the world shall- -1 will do such things-
What they are, yet I know not; but they shall be
The terrours of the earth. You think, I'll weep:
No, I'll not weep: --
I have full cause of weeping; but this heart
Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws,
Or e'er l'll weep :

-0, fool, I shall go mad !
(Exeunt Lear, Gloster, Kent, and Fool."

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If there is any thing in any author like this yearning of the heart, these throes of tenderness, this profound expression of all that can be thought and felt in the most heart-rending situations, we are glad of it ; but it is in some author that we have not read.

The scene in the storm, where he is exposed to all the fury of the elements, though grand and terrible is not so fine, but the moralizing scenes with Mad Tom, Kent, and Gloster, are upon a par with the former. His exclamation in the supposed trial-scene of his daughters, “ See the little dogs and all, Tray, Blanch, and Sweetheart, see, they bark at me;" his issuing his orders, “ Let them anatomize Regan, see what breeds about her heart," and his reflection when he sees the misery of Edgar,

“ Nothing but his unkind daughters could have brought him to this," are in a style of pathos, where the-extremest resources of the imagination are called in to lay open the deepest movements of the heart, which was peculiar to Shakspeare. In the same style and spirit is his interrupting the Fool, who asks, “whether a madman be a gentleman or a yeoman," by answering “ A king, a king !”—

The indirect part that Gloster takes in these scenes, where his generosity leads him to relieve Lear and resent the cruelty of his daughters, at the very time that he is himself instigated to seek the life of his son, and suffering under the sting of his supposed ingratitude, is a striking accompaniment to the situation of Lear. Indeed, the manner in which the threads of the story are woven together is almost as wonderful in the way of art, as the carrying on the tide of passion, still varying and unimpaired, is on the score of nature. Among the remarkable instances of this kind, are Edgar's meeting with his old blind father; the deception he practises upon him when he pretends to lead him to the top of Dover-cliff—“Come on, sir, here's the place,” to prevent his ending his life and miseries together; his encounter with the perfidious Steward, whom he kills, and his finding the letter from Gonerill to his brother upon him, which leads to the final catastrophe, and brings the wheel of Justice “full circle home” to the guilty parties. The bustle and rapid succession of events in the last scenes is surprising. But the meeting between Lear and Cordelia is by far the most affecting part of them. It has all the wildness of poetry, and all the heartfelt truth of nature. The previous account of her reception of the news of his unkind treatment, her involuntary reproaches to her sisters, “Shame, ladies, shame,” Lear's backwardness to see his daugbter, the picture of the desolate state to which he reduced, “ Alack, 'tis he ; why he was met even now, as mad as the vex'd sea, singing aloud," only prepare the way for and heighten our expectation of what follows, and assuredly this expectation is not disappointed, when, through the tender care of Cordelia he revives and recollects her.

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

jesty!
Lear. You do me wrong, to take me out of the grave:
Thou art a soul in bliss ; but I am bound
Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears
Do scald like molten lead.

Cordelia. Sir, do you know me?
Lear. You are a spirit I know : when did you die ?
Cordelia. Still, still, far wide !
Physician. He's scarce awake; let him alone awhile.
Lear. Where have I been ? Where am 1?-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 assurd
Of my condition.

Cordelia. 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 ;
Not an hour more, nor less : and, to deal plainly,
I fear, I am not in my perfect mind.
Methinks, I shou'd know you, and know this man i
Yet I am doubtful : for I am mainly ignorant

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