Lear.
Howl, howl, howl, howl,—O, you are men of stone;
Had I your tongues and eyes, I'd use them so,
That heaven's vault should crack. She's gone for ever.
I know, when one is dead, and when one lives;
She's dead as earth! Lend me a looking glass,
If that her Breath will mist or stain the stone,
Why then she lives.

Kent.
Is this the promis'd End?

^{8 note}Edg.
Or image of that horror—

Alb.
Fall, and cease.

Lear.
This feather stirs, she lives; if it be so,
It is a Chance which do's redeem all sorrows,
That ever I have felt.

Kent.
O my good master! [Kneeling.

Lear.
Pr'ythee, away—

Edg.
'Tis noble Kent, your friend.

Lear.
A plague upon you, murd'rous traitors all!
I might have sav'd her; now she's gone for ever!
Cordelia, Cordelia, stay a little. Ha!—
What is't thou say'st? Her voice was ever soft,

Gentle, and low; an excellent thing in woman.
I kill'd the slave that was a hanging thee.

Gent.
'Tis true, my Lords, he did.

Lear.
Did I not, fellow?
I've seen the day, with my good biting faulchion
I would have made them skip: I am old now,
And these same crosses spoil me. Who are you?
Mine eyes are none o'th' best.—I'll tell you strait.

Kent.
If fortune brag of two she lov'd and hated,
One of them we behold.

Lear.
This is a dull sight. Are you not Kent?

Kent.
The same; your servant Kent;
Where is your servant Caius?

Lear.
'Twas a good fellow, I can tell you that,
He'd strike, and quickly too. He's dead and rotten.

Kent.
No, my good Lord, I am the very man,—

Lear.
I'll see that strait.

Kent.
That, from your first ^{9 note}of difference and decay,
Have follow'd your sad steps—

Lear.
You're welcome hither.

Kent.
Nor no man else. All's cheerless, dark, and dead.
Your eldest daughters have fore-done themselves,
And desp'rately are dead.

Lear.
Ay, so I think.

Alb.
He knows not what he says; and vain is it,
That we present us to him.

Edg.
Very bootless. Enter a Messenger.

Mes.
Edmund is dead, my Lord.

Alb.
That's but a trifle, here.
You Lords and noble friends, know our intent;
^{1 note}What comfort to this great Decay may come,

Shall be apply'd. For us, we will resign,
During the life of this old Majesty,
To him our absolute Power; to you, your Rights, [To Edgar.
^noteWith boot, and such addition as your honours
Have more than merited. All friends shall taste
The wages of their virtue, and all foes
The cup of their deservings. O see, see—

Lear.
And my poor Fool is hang'd. No, no, no life.
Why should a dog, a horse, a rat have life,
And thou no breath at all? Thou'lt come no more,
Never, never, never, never, never—
Pray you, undo this button. Thank you, Sir.
Do you see this? Look on her, look, her lips,
Look there, look there— [He dies.

Edg.
He faints. My Lord,—

Kent.
Break heart, I pr'ythee, break!

Edg.
Look up, my Lord.

Kent.
Vex not his ghost. O, let him pass. He hates him,
That would upon the rack of this rough world
Stretch him out longer.

Edg.
He is gone, indeed.

Kent.
The wonder is, he hath endur'd so long;
He but usurpt his life.

Alb.
Bear them from hence, our present business
Is general woe. ^{2 note}Friends of my soul, you twain [To Kent and Edgar.
Rule in this Realm, and the gor'd State sustain.

Kent.
I have a journey, Sir, shortly to go;
My master calls me; I must not say, no. [Dies.

Alb.
^{3 note}The weight of this sad time we must obey,
Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say.
The oldest hath borne most; we, that are young,
Shall never see so much, nor live so long. [Exeunt with a dead march. ^note

TIMON OF

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