Kent.

Why the King of France is so suddenly gone back ^note know you the ^note reason? ^note

Gent.

Something he left imperfect in the state which since his coming forth is thought of, which imports to ^note the kingdom so much fear and danger that his personal ^note return was most required and necessary. ^note

Kent.

Who ^note hath he left behind him general?

Gent.

The Marshal ^note of France, Monsieur La Far ^note.

Kent.

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

Gent.
Ay, sir; ^note she took them, read them ^note in my presence,
And now and then an ample tear trill'd down
Her delicate cheek: it seem'd she was a queen
Over ^note her passion, who ^note most rebel-like
Sought to be king o'er her. ^note

Kent.
O, then it moved her.

Gent.
Not to a rage ^note: patience and sorrow strove ^note
Who ^note should express her goodliest. You have seen
Sunshine and rain at once: her smiles and tears
Were like ^note a better way: ^{note note} those happy ^note smilets ^note
That play'd on her ripe lip seem'd ^note not to know
What guests were in her eyes; which parted thence
As pearls from diamonds dropp'd ^note. In brief,
Sorrow would be a rarity most beloved,
If all could so become it. ^note

Kent.
Made she no verbal question ^note?

Gent.
Faith, ^note once or twice she heaved the name of ‘father’
Pantingly forth, as if it press'd her heart;
Cried ‘Sisters! sisters! Shame of ladies! sisters! ^note
Kent! father! sisters! ^note What ^note, i' the storm? i' the night ^note?
Let pity not be believed ^note!’ There ^note she shook
The holy water from her heavenly eyes,
And clamour moisten'd: ^note then away she started ^note

To deal with grief alone.

Kent.
It is the stars, ^note
The stars above us, govern our conditions; ^note
Else one self mate ^note and mate ^note could not beget
Such different issues. You spoke not ^note with her since? ^note

Gent.
No.

Kent.
Was this before the king return'd?

Gent.
No, since.

Kent.
Well, sir, ^note the poor distressed Lear's i' the ^note town;
Who sometime ^note in his better tune ^note remembers
What we are come about, and by no means
Will yield to see his daughter ^note.

Gent.
Why, good sir?

Kent.
A sovereign shame so elbows him: his own ^note unkindness
That stripp'd her from his ^note benediction, turn'd her
To foreign casualties, gave her dear rights
To his dog-hearted daughters: these things sting
His mind ^note so venomously that burning shame
Detains him from ^note Cordelia. ^note

Gent.
Alack, poor gentleman!

Kent.
Of Albany's and Cornwall's powers you heard not? ^note

Gent.
'Tis so; ^note they are afoot ^note.

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. I pray you, go
Along ^note with me. ^note [Exeunt. ^{note note}

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