Edg.
Here, Sir, take you the shadow of this Tree
For your good Host, pray that the Right may thrive:
If ever I return to you again
I'll bring you Comfort. [Exit.

Glost.
Thanks, friendly Sir;
The Fortune your good Cause deserves betide you. An Alarum, after which Gloster speaks.
The Fight grows hot; the whole War's now at Work,
And the goar'd Battle bleeds in every Vein,
Whilst Drums and Trumpets drown loud Slaughter's Roar:
Where's Gloster now that us'd to head the Fray,
And scour the Ranks where deadliest Danger lay?
Here like a Shepherd in a lonely Shade,
Idle, unarm'd, and listning to the Fight.
Yet the disabled Courser, Maim'd and Blind,
When to his Stall he hears the ratling War,
Foaming with Rage tears up the batter'd Ground,
And tugs for Liberty.
No more of Shelter, thou blind Worm, but forth
To th' open Field; the War may come this way
And crush thee into Rest.—Here lay thee down

And tear the Earth, that work befits a Mole.
O dark Despair! when, Edgar, wilt thou come
To pardon and dismiss me to the Grave! [A Retreat sounded.
Heark! a Retreat, the King has Lost or Won. Re-enter Edgar, bloody.

Edg.
Away, old Man, give me your Hand, away!
King Lear has lost, He and his Daughter tane,
And this, ye Gods, is all that I can save
Of this most precious Wreck: give me your Hand.

Glost.
No farther, Sir, a Man may Rot even here.

Edg.
What? in ill Thoughts again? Men must endure
Their going hence ev'n as their coming hither.

Glost.
And that's true too. [Exeunt. Flourish. Enter in Conquest, Albany, Gonerill, Regan, Bastard.—Lear, Kent, Cordelia Prisoners.

Alb.
It is enough to have Conquer'd, Cruelty
Shou'd ne're survive the Fight, Captain o'th' Guards
Treat well your royal Prisoners till you have
Our further Orders, as you hold our Pleasure.

Gon.
Heark, Sir, not as you hold our Husbands pleasure [To the Captain aside.
But as you hold your Life, dispatch your Pris'ners.
Our Empire can have no sure Settlement
But in their Death, the Earth that covers them
Binds fast our Throne. Let me hear they are Dead.

Capt.
I shall obey your Orders.

Bast.
Sir, I approve it safest to pronounce
Sentence of Death upon this wretched King,
Whose Age has Charms in it, his Title more,
To draw the Commons once more to his Side,
'Twere best prevent—

Alb.
Sir, by your Favour,
I hold you but a Subject of this War,
Not as a Brother.

Reg.
That's as we list to Grace him.
Have you forgot that He did lead our Pow'rs?

Bore the Commission of our Place and Person?
And that Authority may well stand up
And call it self your Brother.

Gon.
Not so hot,
In his own Merits he exalts himself
More than in your Addition. Enter Edgar, disguised.

Alb.
What art Thou?

Edg.
Pardon me, Sir, that I presume to stop
A Prince and Conquerour, yet e'er you Triumph,
Give Ear to what a Stranger can deliver
Of what concerns you more than Triumph can.
I do impeach your General there of Treason,
Lord Edmund, that usurps the Name of Gloster,
Of fowlest Practice 'gainst your Life and Honour;
This Charge is True, and wretched though I seem
I can produce a Champion that will prove
In single Combat what I do avouch;
If Edmund dares but trust his Cause and Sword.

Bast.
What will not Edmund dare, my Lord, I beg
The favour that you'd instantly appoint
The Place where I may meet this Challenger,
Whom I will sacrifice to my wrong'd Fame,
Remember, Sir, that injur'd Honour's nice
And cannot brook delay.

Alb.
Anon, before our Tent, i'th' Army's view,
There let the Herald cry.

Edg.
I thank your Highness in my Champion's Name,
He'll wait your Trumpet's call.

Alb.
Lead. [Exeunt. Manent, Lear, Kent, Cordelia, guarded.

Lear.
O Kent, Cordelia!
You are the onely Pair that I e'er wrong'd,
And the just Gods have made you Witnesses
Of my Disgrace, the very shame of Fortune,
To see me chain'd and shackled at these years!

Yet were you but Spectatours of my Woes,
Not fellow-sufferers, all were well!

Cord.
This language, Sir, adds yet to our Affliction.

Lear.
Thou, Kent, didst head the Troops that fought my Battel,
Expos'd thy Life and Fortunes for a Master
That had (as I remember) banisht Thee.

Kent.
Pardon me, Sir, that once I broke your Orders,
Banisht by you, I kept me here disguis'd
To watch your Fortunes, and protect your Person,
You know you entertain'd a rough blunt Fellow,
One Cajus, and you thought he did you Service.

Lear.
My trusty Cajus, I have lost him too! [Weeps.
'Twas a rough Honesty.

Kent.
I was that Cajus,
Disguis'd in that course Dress to follow you.

Lear.
My Cajus too! wer't thou my trusty Cajus,
Enough, enough—

Cord.
Ah me, he faints! his Blood forsakes his Cheek,
Help, Kent—

Lear.
No, no, they shall not see us weep,
We'll see them rot first,—Guards lead away to Prison,
Come, Kent, Cordelia come,
We Two will sit alone, like Birds i'th Cage,
When Thou dost ask me Blessing, I'll kneel down
And ask of Thee Forgiveness; Thus we'll live,
And Pray, and Sing, and tell old Tales, and Laugh
At gilded Butter-flies, hear Sycophants
Talk of Court News, and we'll talk with them too,
Who loses, and who wins, who's in, who's out,
And take upon us the Mystery of Things
As if we were Heav'ns Spies.

Cord.
Upon such Sacrifices
The Gods themselves throw Incense.

Lear.
Have I caught ye?
He that parts us must bring a Brand from Heav'n.
Together we'll out-toil the spight of Hell,
And Die the Wonders of the World; Away. [Exeunt, guarded.

Flourish: Enter before the Tents, Albany, Gonerill, Regan, Guards and Attendants; Gonerill speaking apart to the Captain of the Guards entring.

Gon.
Here's Gold for Thee, Thou knowst our late Command
Upon your Pris'ners Lives, about it streight, and at
Our Ev'ning Banquet let it raise our Mirth
To hear that They are Dead.

Capt.
I shall not fail your Orders. [Ex. Albany, Gon. Reg. take their Seats.

Alb.
Now, Gloster, trust to thy single Vertue, for thy Souldiers,
All levied in my Name, have in my Name
Took their Discharge; now let our Trumpets speak,
And Herald read out This.

[Herald Reads.

If any Man of Quality, within the Lists of the Army, will maintain upon Edmund, suppos'd Earl of Gloster, that he is manifold Traytour, let him appear by the third sound of the Trumpet; He is bold in his Defence.—Agen, Agen.

Alb.
Lord Edgar!

Bast.
Ha! my Brother!
This is the onely Combatant that I cou'd fear;
For in my Breast Guilt Duels on his side,
But, Conscience, what have I to do with Thee?
Awe Thou thy dull Legitimate Slaves, but I
Was born a Libertine, and so I keep me.

Edg.
My noble Prince, a word—e'er we engage
Into your Highness's Hands I give this Paper,
It will the truth of my Impeachment prove
Whatever be my fortune in the Fight.

Alb.
We shall peruse it.

Edg.
Now, Edmund, draw thy Sword,

That if my Speech has wrong'd a noble Heart,
Thy Arm may doe thee Justice: here i'th' presence
Of this high Prince, these Queens, and this crown'd List,
I brand thee with the spotted name of Traytour,
False to thy Gods, thy Father and thy Brother,
And what is more, thy Friend; false to this Prince:
If then Thou shar'st a spark of Gloster's Vertue,
Acquit thy self, or if Thou shar'st his Courage,
Meet this Defiance bravely.

Bast.
And dares Edgar,
The beaten routed Edgar, brave his Conquerour?
From all thy Troops and Thee, I forc't the Field,
Thou hast lost the gen'ral Stake, and art Thou now
Come with thy petty single Stock to play
This after-Game?

Edg.
Half-blooded Man,
Thy Father's Sin first, then his Punishment,
The dark and vicious Place where he begot thee
Cost him his Eyes: from thy licentious Mother
Thou draw'st thy Villany; but for thy part
Of Gloster's Blood, I hold thee worth my Sword.

Bast.
Thou bear'st thee on thy Mother's Piety,
Which I despise; thy Mother being chaste
Thou art assur'd Thou art but Gloster's Son,
But mine, disdaining Constancy, leaves me
To hope that I am sprung from nobler Blood,
And possibly a King might be my Sire:
But be my Birth's uncertain Chance as 'twill,
Who 'twas that had the hit to Father me
I know not; 'tis enough that I am I:
Of this one thing I'm certain—that I have
A daring Soul, and so have at thy Heart
Sound Trumpet. [Fight, Bastard falls.

Gon. and Reg.
Save him, save him.

Gon.
This was Practice, Gloster,
Thou won'st the Field, and wast not bound to Fight
A vanquisht Enemy, Thou art not Conquer'd
But couz'ned and betray'd.

Alb.
Shut your Mouth, Lady,
Or with this Paper I shall stop it—hold, Sir,

Thou worse than any Name, reade thy own evil,
No Tearing, Lady, I perceive you know it.

Gon.
Say if I do, who shall arraign me for't?
The Laws are Mine, not Thine.

Alb.
Most monstrous! ha, Thou know'st it too.

Bast.
Ask me not what I know,
I have not Breath to Answer idle Questions.

Alb.
I have resolv'd—your Right, brave Sir, has conquer'd, [To Edgar.
Along with me, I must consult your Father. [Ex. Albany and Edgar.

Reg.
Help every Hand to save a noble Life;
My half o'th' Kingdom for a Man of Skill
To stop this precious stream.

Bast.
Away ye Empericks,
Torment me not with your vain Offices:
The Sword has pierc't too far; Legitimacy
At last has got it.

Reg.
The Pride of Nature Dies.

Gon.
Away, the minutes are too precious,
Disturb us not with thy impertinent Sorrow.

Reg.
Art Thou my Rival then profest?

Gon.
Why, was our Love a Secret? cou'd there be
Beauty like Mine, and Gallantry like His
And not a mutual Love? just Nature then
Had err'd: behold that Copy of Perfection,
That Youth whose Story will have no foul Page
But where it says he stoopt to Regan's Arms:
Which yet was but Compliance, not Affection;
A Charity to begging, ruin'd Beauty!

Reg.
Who begg'd when Gonerill writ That? expose it [Throws her a Letter.
And let it be your Army's mirth, as 'twas
This charming Youth's and mine, when in the Bow'r
He breath'd the warmest ecstasies of Love,
Then panting on my Breast, cry'd matchless Regan

That Gonerill and Thou shou'd e'er be Kin!

Gon.
Die, Circe, for thy Charms are at an End,
Expire before my Face, and let me see
How well that boasted Beauty will become
Congealing Blood and Death's convulsive Pangs.
Die and be husht, for at my Tent last Night
Thou drank'st thy Bane, amidst thy rev'ling Bowls:
Ha! dost thou Smile? is then thy Death thy Sport
Or has the trusty Potion made thee Mad?

Reg.
Thou com'st as short of me in thy Revenge
As in my Gloster's Love, my Jealousie
Inspir'd me to prevent thy feeble Malice
And Poison Thee at thy own Banquet.

Gon.
Ha!

Bast.
No more, my Queens, of this untimely Strife,
You both deserv'd my Love and both possest it.
Come, Souldiers, bear me in; and let
Your royal Presence grace my last minutes:
Now, Edgar, thy proud Conquest I forgive;
Who wou'd not choose, like me, to yield his Breath
T'have Rival Queens contend for him in Death? [Exeunt.

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