Enter Lear, with Cordelia dead in his arms.

Lear. Howl, bowl, howl, howl,--O you are men of ftone, Had I your tongues and eyes, I'd use them fo,

That heaven's vault should crack: fhe's gone for ever!
I know, when one is dead, and when one lives;
She's dead as earth! lend me a looking-glafs,

If that her breath will mist or ftain the ftone,
Why then he lives.

Kent. Is this the promis'd end?

Lear. This feather firs, fhe lives; if it be fo, It is a chance which does redeem all forrows, That ever I have felt.

Kent. O my good mafter !

Lear. Pr'ythee, away--
Edg. 'Tis noble Kent, your

friend.

[Kneeling.

Lear. A plague upon you, murd'rous traitors all! I might have fav'd her; now fhe's gone for ever! Cordelia, Cordelia, ftay a little.

Ha!

What is't thou fay'ft ? her voice was ever soft,
Gentle, and low; an excellent thing in woman.
I kill'd the flave, that was a hanging thee.
Gent. 'Tis true, my Lords, he did.

Lear. Did I not, fellow ?

I've feen the day, with my good biting faulchion
I would have made them skip: I am old now,
And thefe fame croffes fpoil me. Who are you?
Mine eyes are none o' th' beft.-I'll tell you strait.
Kent. If fortune brag of two fhe lov'd and hated,
One of them we behold.

Lear. Are you not Kent ?

Kent. The fame; your fervant Kent;

Where is your fervant Caius?

Lear. 'Twas a good fellow, I can tell you that, (62) He'd ftrike, and quickly too:-he's dead and rotten.

(62) He's a good fellor, I can tell

you that,

He'll ftrike and quickly too: he's dead and rotten.] We have seen Lear mad; but, never, a ftark fool till this moment; to tell us, that a dead and rotten man will ftrike quickly. But it was a stupidity of the editors, and not chargeable on the poet.

Kent.

Kent. No, my good Lord, I am the very man,-
Lear. I'll fee that strait.

Kent. That, from your first of difference and decay, Have follow'd your fad steps

Lear. You're welcome hither.

Kent. Nor no man elfe ;--all's cheerlefs, dark, and dead Your eldest daughters have fore-done themselves, And defp'rately are dead.

Lear. Ay, fo I think.

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

Edg. Very bootlefs..

Enter a Meffenger.

Mef. Edmund is dead, my

Alb. That's but a trifle.

Lord.

You Lords and noble friends, know our intent
What comfort to this great decay may come,
Shall be apply'd. For us, we will refign,
During the life of this old majefty,

To him our abfolute power to you, your rights,

[To Edgar With boot, and fuch addition as your honours Have more than merited. All friends fhall tafte The wages of their virtue, and all foes

The cup of their defervings: O see, see

Lear. And my poor fool is hang'd: no, no, no life. Why fhould a dog, a horfe, a rat have life,

never

And thou no breath at all? thou'lt come no more,
Never, never, never, never,
Pray you, undo this button.
Do you fee this? look on her,
Look there, look there-

Thank you, Sir;
look on her lips, (63)
[He dies

Edg.

(63) Do you fee this? look on her, look on her lips; Look there, look there.-] Our poet has taken the liberty in the catastrophe of this play to depart from the Chronicles; in which Lear is faid to be reinstated in his throne by Cordelia, and to have reign'd upwards of two years after his reftoration. He might have done this for two reafons. Either, to heighten the compaffion towards the poor old King or to vary from another, but moft execrable, dramatic: performance

Edg.

Edg. He faints; my Lord,

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

performance upon this ftory: which I certainly believe to have preceded our author's piece, and which none of our ftage-historians appear to have had any knowledge of. The edition, which I have of it, bears this title. The true chronicle hiftory of King LEIR, and bis three daughters, Gonorill, Ragan, and Cordella. As it hath bene divers and fundry times lately acted. London; printed by Simon Stafford for John Wright, and are to be fold at his fhop at Chriftes Church dore next Newgate Market. 1605. That Shakespeare, however, may ftand acquitted from the leaft fufpicion of plagiarism, in the opinion of his readers, I'll fubjoin a small taste of this other anonymous author's abilities both in conduct and diction. Leir, with one Perillus his friend, embarks for France to try what reception he should find from his daughter Cordella. When they come afhore, neither of them has a rag of money and they are forced to give their cloaks to the mariners to pay for their paffage. This, no doubt, our playwright intended for a mastery in diftrefs: as he must think it a notable fetch of invention to bring the King and Queen of France difguis'd like rufticks, travelling a long way on foot into the woods, with a basket of provifions, only that they may have the cafual opportunity of relieving Leir and Perillus from being ftarv'd. Now for a little fpecimen of ftyle, and dignity of thinking. Cordella, now Queen of France, and in her own palace, comes in and makes this pathetick foliloquy,

I have been over negligent to day
In going to the temple of my god,
To render thanks for all his benefits,
Which he miraculously hath bestow'd on me
In raifing me out of my mean estate,
When as I was devoid of worldly friends;
And placing me in fuch a sweet content,
As far exceeds the reach of my deferts.
My kingly husband, mirrour of his time,
For zeal, for justice, kindness, and for care,
To god, his fubjects, me, and common weale,
By his appointment was ordain'd for me.
I cannot wish the thing that I do want;
I cannot want the thing, but I may have;
Save only this which I fhall ne'er obtain,
My father's love; Oh, this I ne'er shall gain.
I would abstain from any nutriment,
And pine my body to the very bones :
Barefoot I would on pilgrimage fet forth,
Unto the furtheft quarters of the earth,
And all my life time would I fackcloth wear,
And mourning-wife pour duft upon my head:

Edg. Look up, my Lord.

Kent. Vex not his ghoft: O, let him pafs! 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 fo long:
He but ufurpt his life.

Alb. Bear them from hence, our prefent business
Is general woe friends of my foul, you twain
Rule in this realm, and the gor'd ftate fuftain.
Kent. I have a journey, Sir, fhortly to go;
My mafter calls me; I must not say, no.

[Dies.

Alb. The weight of this fad time we must obey, (64) Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say.

The oldest hath borne moft; we, that are young,

Shall never fee fo much, nor live fo long.

[Exeunt with a dead march.

So he but to forgive me once would please,
That his grey hairs might go to heaven in peace.
And yet I know not how I him offended,
Or wherein juftly I've deferved blame.
Oh fifters! you are much to blame in this;
It was not he, but you, that did me wrong.
Yet, god forgive both him, and you, and me,
Ev'n as I do in perfect charity.

[Exit.

I will to church, and pray unto my Saviour, That, e'er I die, I may obtain his favour. This is, furely, fuch poetry as 'one might hammer out, Stans pede in uno; or, as our author fays, "it is the right butter-woman's rank to market and a man might verfify you fo eight years together, "dinners, and fuppers, and fleeping hours excepted.". -Again, Shakespeare was too well vers'd in Holingshead not to know, that King Lear reign'd above 800 years before the period of chriftianity. The gods his King talks of are Jupiter, Juno, Apollo; and not any deities more modern than his own time, Licentious as he was in anachronifms, he would have judg'd it an unpardonable abfurdity to have made a Briton of Cordella's time talk of her Saviour. And his not being trapt into fuch ridiculous flips of ignorance, feems a plain proof to me that he ftole neither from his predeceffors, nor contemporaries of the English theatre, both which abounded in them.

(64) Alb. The weight of this fad time, &c.] This speech from the authority of the old 4to is rightly plac'd to Albany: in the edition by the players it is given to Edgar, by whom, I doubt not, it was of cuftom spoken. And the cafe was this: He who play'd Edgar, being a more favourite actor, than he who perfonated Albany; in fpight of decorum, it was thought proper he should have the last word.

I