Ken.
The king of France14Q1365 so suddenly gone back!
Know you the reason ^note?

Gen.
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 return ^note was most requir'd and necessary.

Ken.
Who hath he left behind him general?

Gen.
The mareschal of France, monsieur le Fer. ^note

Ken.
Well; say, sir, did your letters pierce the queen
To any demonstration of her grief?

Gen.
Ay, sir; 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 ^note passion; who, most rebel-like,
Sought to be king o'er her.

Ken.
O, then it mov'd her.

Gen.
Not to a rage: patience and sorrow strove
Who should express her goodliest. You have seen
Sunshine and rain at once? Her smiles and tears
Were like a wetter May: ^note Those happy smiles,
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 dropt. In brief, sir, sorrow
Would be a rarity most belov'd, if all
Could so become it.

Ken.
Made she no verbal question?

Gen.
Yes; once, or twice, she heav'd the name of father
Pantingly forth, as if it press'd her heart:
Cry'd, Sisters! sisters! shame of ladies! sisters!

Ken.
Father&dotup; Sisters&dotup;

Gen.
What, i'the storm? i'the night?
Let it not ^note be believed ^note: There she shook
The holy water from her heavenly eyes,
And clamour moisten'd: then ^note away she started,
To deal with grief alone.

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

Gen.
No.

Ken.
Was this before the king return'd?

Gen.
No, since.

Ken.
Well, sir; The poor distressed 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.

Gen.
Why, good sir?

Ken.
A sovereign shame so bows ^note him: his own unkindness,
That strip'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
Detains him from Cordelia.

Gen.
Alack, poor gentleman!

Ken.
Of Albany's and Cornwal's powers you heard not?

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

Ken.
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 a while;
When I am known aright, you shall not grieve
Lending me this acquaintance. Pray you, along ^note with me.

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