Kent.

Why the king of France is so suddenly gone back^{3 note} 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.
Who hath he left behind him general?

Gent.
The Mareschal of France, Monsieur le Fer^{4 note}.

Kent.

Did your letters pierce the queen to any demonstration of grief?

Gent.
Ay, sir^{5 note}; she took them, read them in my presence;
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^{6 note}
Who should express her goodliest. You have seen
Sunshine and rain at once: her smiles and tears
Were like a better May^{7 note}

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^{9 note}

Kent.
Made she no verbal question^{1 note}

Gent.
'Faith, once, or twice^{2 note}
, 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^{3 note}
!—There she shook
The holy water from her heavenly eyes,
And clamour moisten'd^{4 note}

Kent.
It is the stars,
The stars above us, govern our conditions^{5 note};
Else one self mate and mate^{6 note}

Gent.
No.

Kent.
Was this before the king return'd?

Gent.
No, since.

Kent.
Well, sir; The poor distress'd Lear is 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^{7 note}

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^{8 note}

Kent.
Well, sir, I'll bring you to our master Lear,
And leave you to attend him: some dear cause^{9 note}