Cord.
What toils, thou wretched King, hast thou endur'd,
To make thee draw, in chains, a sleep so sound?
O gods! A sudden gloom o'erwhelms me, and the image
Of death o'erspreads the place.—Ha! who are these? Captain and Officers with Cords.

Capt.
Now, sirs, dispatch; already you are paid
In part, the best of your reward's to come.

Lear.
Charge, charge, upon the flank, the lest wing halts.
Push, push the battle, and the day's our own.
Their ranks are broken, down, down with Albany!
Who holds my hands?—O thou deceiving sleep;
I was this very minute on the chace,
And now a pris'ner here!—What mean the Slaves?
You will not murder me?

Cord.
Help, earth and heaven!
For your souls sake, dear sirs, and for the gods!

Offi.
No tears, good lady;
Come, sirs, make ready your cords.

Cord.
You, sir, I'll seize,
You have a human form, and if no prayers
Can touch your soul to spare a poor King's life,
If there be any thing that you hold dear,
By that I beg you to dispatch me first.

Capt.
Comply with her request; dispatch her first.

Lear.
Off hell-hounds, by the gods I charge you spare her;
'Tis my Cordelia, my true pious daughter;
No pity?—Nay, then take an old man's vengeance. Snatches a Sword, and kills two of them; the rest quit Cordelia, and turn upon him. Enter Edgar, Albany, and Guards.

Edg.
Death! hell! ye vultures, hold your impious hands,
Or take a speedier death than you wou'd give.

Alb.
Guards, seize those instruments of cruelty.

Gent.
Look here, my lord, see where the generous King
Has slain two of 'em.

Lear.
Did I not, Fellow?
I've seen the day, with my good biting faulchion
I cou'd have made 'em skip: I am old now,
And these vile crosses spoil me; out of breath;
Fie, oh! quite out of breath, and spent.

Alb.
Bring in old Kent; and, Edgar, guide you hither
Your father, whom you said was near; [Ex. Edgar.
He may be an ear-witness at the least
Of our proceedings. [Kent brought in.

Lear.
Who are you?
My eyes are none o'th' best, I'll tell you straight:
Oh Albany! Well, sir, we are your captives,
And you are come to see death pass upon us.
Why this delay?—Or is't your highness' pleasure
To give us first the torture? say ye so?
Why here's old Kent and I, as tough a pair
As e'er bore tyrant's stroke.—But, my Cordelia,
My poor Cordelia here, O pity her!

Alb.
Thou injur'd Majesty,
The wheel of fortune now has made her circle,
And blessings yet stand 'twixt the grave and thee,

Lear.
Com'st thou, inhuman lord, to sooth us back
To a fool's paradise of hope, to make
Our doom more wretched? Go to, we are too well
Acquainted with misfortune, to be gull'd
With lying hope; no, we will hope no more.

Alb.
Know, the noble Edgar
Impeach'd lord Edmund, since the fight, of treason,
And dar'd him for the proof to single combat,
In which the gods confirm'd his charge by conquest;
I left ev'n now the traitor wounded mortally.

Lear.
And whither tends this story?

Alb.
Ere they fought,
Lord Edgar gave into my hands this paper;
A blacker scroll of treason and of lust
Than can be found in the records of hell;
There, sacred sir, behold the character
Of Gonerill, the worst of daughters, but
More vicious wife.

Cor.
Cou'd there be yet addition to their guilt!
What will not they that wrong a father do?

Alb.
Since then my injuries, Lear, fall in with thine,
I have resolv'd the same redress for both.

Kent.
What says my lord?

Cor.
Speak, for methought I heard
The charming voice of a descending god.

Alb.
The troops, by Edmund rais'd, I have disbanded;
Those that remain are under my command.
What comfort may be brought to chear your age,
And heal your savage wrongs, shall be apply'd;
For to your majesty we do resign
Your kingdom, save what part yourself conferr'd
On us in marriage.

Kent.
Hear you that, my liege?

Cor.
Then there are gods, and virtue is their care.

Lear.
Is't possible?
Let the spheres stop their course, the sun make halt,
The winds be hush'd, the seas and fountains rest;
All nature pause, and listen to the change.
Where is my Kent, my Caius?

Kent.
Here, my liege.

Lear.
Why I have news that will recall thy youth:
Ha! didst thou hear't, or did th' inspiring gods
Whisper to me alone? old Lear shall be
A king again.

Alb.
Thy captive daughter too, the wife of France,
Unransom'd we enlarge, and shall, with speed,
Give her safe convoy to her royal husband.

Lear.
Cordelia then is Queen again. Mark that!
Winds, catch the sound,
And bear it on your rosy wings to heav'n:
Cordelia's still a Queen. Re-enter Edgar with Glocester.

Alb.
Look, sir, where pious Edgar comes,
Leading his eyeless Father.

Glo.
Where's my liege? conduct me to his knees, to hail
His second birth of empire: my dear Edgar
Has with himself reveal'd the king's blest restauration.

Lear.
My poor dark Glo'ster!

Glo.
O let me kiss that once more scepter'd hand!

Lear.
Speak, is not that the noble suff'ring Edgar?

Glo.
My pious son, more dear than my lost eyes.

Edg.
Your leave, my liege, for an unwelcome message.
Edmund (but that's a trifle) is expir'd.
What more will touch you, your imperious daughters,
Gonerill and haughty Regan, both are dead,
Each by the other poison'd at a banquet:
This, dying, they confess'd.

Cord.
O fatal period of ill-govern'd life!

Lear.
Ingrateful as they were, my heart feels yet
A pang of nature for their wretched fall.

Glo.
Now, gentle gods, give Glo'ster his discharge.

Lear.
No, Glo'ster, thou hast business yet for life;
Thou, Kent, and I, in sweet tranquillity
Will gently pass the evening of our days;
Thus will we talk, and tell old tales, and laugh
At gilded butterflies: and our remains
Shall in an even course of thoughts be pass'd.
My child, Cordelia, all the gods can witness
How much thy truth to empire I prefer!
Thy bright example shall convince the world
(Whatever storms of fortune are decreed)
That Truth and Virtue shall at last succeed. [Exeunt Omnes.

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