Gent. Yes, once, or twice, fhe heav'd the Name of Father Pantingly forth, as if it preft her heart. Cry'd, fifters! fifiers!-Shame of Ladies! fifters! Kent! Father! Sifters! What? i'th' ftorm? i'th' night? Let Pity ne'er believe it!-There she fbook The holy water from her heav'nly Eyes; 7 And, Clamour moisten'd her, then away she started To deal with grief alone. Kent. It is the Stars, The Stars above us, govern our conditions: 8 Elfe one felf-mate and mate could not beget Gent. No. Kent. Was this before the King return'd? Kent. Well, Sir; the poor diftreffed Lear's in town, Will yield to fee bis daughter. WARBURTON. I do not fee the impropriety of drives her from company. verbal queftion: fuch pleonafms are common. So we fay, my ears have heard, my eyes have bebeld. Befides, where is the word queft to be found? And, Clamour-moisten'd, ] Tho' Clamour may distort the mouth, it is not wont to moisten the eyes. Read clamour-motion'd, which conveys a very beautiful idea of grief in Cordelia, and exactly in character. She bore her grief hitherto, fays the relater, in filence; but being no longer able to contain it, the flies away, and retires to her clofet to deal with it in private. This he finely calls, Clamourmotiond; or provok'd to a loud expreffion of her forrow, which It is not impoffible, but Shake Speare might have form'd this fine Picture of Cordelia's Agony from Holy Writ, in the Conduct of Jofeph; who, being no longer able to refrain the Vehemence of his Affection, commanded all his Retinue from his Prefence; and then wept aloud, and difcovered himself to his Brethren. THEOBALD. After all that has been faid, the fenfe is good of the old reading. Clamour moiften'd her, that is, her outcries were accompanied with tears. 8 -one Self mate and mate] The fame hufband and the fame wife. Gent. Gent. Why, good Sir? Kent. Afov'reign fhame fo bows him. His unkindness, That strip'd her from his benedi&tion, turn'd her To foreign cafualties, gave her dear rights To bis dog-hearted daughters. These things fting His mind fo venomously, that burning foame Detains him from Cordelia. Gent. Alack, poor gentleman! Kent. Of Albany's and Cornwall's Pow'rs you heard not? Gent. 'Tis fo they are a-foot. Kent. Well, Sir; I'll bring you to our mafter Lear, When I am known aright, you shall not grieve [Exeunt, Cor. SCENE A CAM P. IV. Enter Cordelia, Phyfician, and Soldiers. A LACK, 'tis he; why, he was met ev'n now As mad as the vext fea; finging aloud; Crown'd with rank fumiterr, and furrow-weeds, With burdocks, hemlock, nettle, cuckoo-flowers, 9-Thefe things fting him Se venomously, that burning frame] The metaphor here preferved with great knowledge of nature. The venom of poisonous animals being a high cauftic falt, that has all the effect of fire upon the part. WARBURTON. 1 'Tis jo they are on foot.] Dr. I Warburton thinks it neceffary to read, 'tis faid, but the fenfe is plain. So it is that they are on foot. 2 With bardocks, hemlock, &c.] I do not remember any fuch plant as a bardock, but one of the most common weeds is a burdock, which I believe fhould be read here, and fo Hanmer reads. 4 Dar Darnel, and all the idle weeds that grow What can man's Wisdom In the restoring his bereaved fense? He, that helps him, take all my outward worth. Our foster nurse of nature is repose, The which he lacks; that to provoke in him, Cor. All bleft Secrets, All you unpublish'd Virtues of the Earth, 3 That wants the means to lead it. Enter a Messenger, Mef. News, Madam: The British Pow'rs are marching hitherward. Therefore great France My Mourning and * important Tears hath pitied. But love, dear love, and our ag'd father's right. [Exeunt, Quam bene te ambitio merfit va niffima, ventus, Et tumidos tumida vos fuperaf tis aquæ. Important, as in other places of this authour, for importunate, SCENE SCENE V. REGAN'S PALACE. Enter Regan, and Steward. UT are my Brother's Powers set forth? Reg. BUT Stew. Ay, Madam. Reg. Himself in person there? Stew. With much ado. Your fifter is the better foldier. 5 Reg. Lord Edmund fpake not with your Lady at home? Stew. No, Madam. Reg. What might import my fifter's letter to him? Reg. 'Faith, he is posted hence on serious matter. His nighted life; moreover, to defcry The ftrength o'th' enemy. Stew. I must needs after him, Madam, with my letter. Reg. Our troops fet forth to morrow; ftay with us; The ways are dangerous. Stew. I may not, Madam; My lady charg'd my duty in this bufinefs. Reg. Why fhould fhe write to Edmund ? might not you Transport her purposes by word? Belike, Something I know not what-I'll love thee much* Let me unfeal the letter. -your Lady-] The folio reads, your Lord, but Lady is the first and better reading * Let me unfeal, &c.] I know not well why Shakespeare gives the Steward, who is a mere fac tor of wickedness, fo much fide- Stew. Stew. Madam, I had rather Reg. I know, your lady does not love her husband: I'm fure of that; and, at her late being here, She gave ftrange ciliads, and moft fpeaking looks Reg. I fpeak in understanding: you are; I know't; Stew. 'Would I could meet him, Madam, I should fhew What party I do follow. Reg. Fare thee well. 9S CE NE VI. The Country, near Dover. Enter Glo'fter, and Edgar, as a Peafant. Glo. WHEN fhall I come to th' top of that fame WHE hill? Edg. You do climb up it now. Look, how we labour. -I do advise you, take this note.] Note means in this place not a letter but a remark. Therefore obferve what I am faying. 7-You may gather more.] You may infer more than I have directly told you. 8. What party] Quarto, what Lady. 9 This fcene and the ftratagem by which Glofter is cured of his defperation, are wholly bor. rowed from Sidney's Arcadia. Glo. |