What guests were in her eyes, which parted thence
As pearls from diamonds dropped. In brief,
Sorrow would be a rarity most beloved
If all could so become it.
KENT Made she no verbal question?
⌈IRST⌉ ENTLEMAN
Faith, once or twice she heaved the name of ‘father’
Pantingly forth as if it pressed her heart,
Cried ‘Sisters, sisters, shame of ladies, sisters,
Kent, father, sisters, what, i‘th’ storm, i’th’ night,
Let piety not be believed!’ There she shook
The holy water from her heavenly eyes
And clamour mastered, then away she started
To deal with grief alone.
KENT It is the stars,
The stars above us govern our conditions,
Else one self mate and make could not beget
Such different issues. You spoke not with her since?
⌈IRST⌉ ENTLEMAN No.
KENT
Was this before the King returned?
⌈IRST⌉ ENTLEMAN No, since.
KENT
Well, sir, the poor distressed Lear’s i’th’ town,
Who sometime in his better tune remembers
What we are come about, and by no means
Will yield to see his daughter.
⌈IRST⌉ NTLEMAN Why, good sir?
KENT
A sovereign shame so elbows him: his own unkindness,
That stripped her from his benediction, turned 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.
⌈IRST⌉ ENTLEMAN Alack, poor gentleman!
KENT
Of Albany’s and Cornwall’s powers you heard not?
⌈IRST⌉ ENTLEMAN ’Tis so; they are afoot.
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 a while.
When I am known aright you shall not grieve
Lending me this acquaintance. I pray you go
Along with me. Exeunt
Sc. 18 Enter Queen Cordelia, a Doctor, and others
CORDELIA
Alack, ’tis he! Why, he was met even now,
As mad as the racked sea, singing aloud,
Crowned with rank fumitor and furrow-weeds,
With burdocks, hemlock, nettles, cuckoo-flowers,
Darnel, and all the idle weeds that grow
In our sustaining corn. The centuries send forth.
Search every acre in the high-grown field,
And bring him to our eye.
⌈Exit one or more⌉
What can man’s wisdom
In the restoring his bereaved sense,
He that can help him
Take all my outward worth.
DOCTOR There is means, madam.
Our foster-nurse of nature is repose,
The which he lacks. That to provoke in him
Are many simples operative, whose power
Will close the eye of anguish.
CORDELIA All blest secrets,
All you unpublished virtues of the earth,
Spring with my tears, be aidant and remediate
In the good man’s distress!—Seek, seek for him,
Lest his ungoverned rage dissolve the life
That wants the means to lead it.
Enter a Messenger
MESSENGER News, madam.
The British powers are marching hitherward.
CORDELIA
’Tis known before; our preparation stands
In expectation of them.—O dear father,
It is thy business that I go about;
Therefore great France
My mourning and important tears hath pitied.
No blown ambition doth our arms incite,
But love, dear love, and our aged father’s right.
Soon may I hear and see him! Exeunt
Sc. 19 Enter Regan and Oswald, Gonoril’s steward
REGAN
But are my brother’s powers set forth?
OSWALD Ay, madam.
REGAN
Himself in person?
OSWALD Madam, with much ado.
Your sister is the better soldier.
REGAN
Lord Edmund spake not with your lord at home?
OSWALD No, madam.
REGAN
What might import my sister’s letters to him?
OSWALD I know not, lady.
REGAN
Faith, he is posted hence on serious matter.
It was great ignorance, Gloucester’s eyes being out,
To let him live. Where he arrives he moves
All hearts against us. Edmund, I think, is gone,
In pity of his misery, to dispatch
His ‘nighted life, moreover to descry
The strength o’th’ army.
OSWALD
I must needs after with my letters, madam.
REGAN
Our troop sets forth tomorrow. Stay with us.
The ways are dangerous.
OSWALD I may not, madam.
My lady charged my duty in this business.
REGAN
Why should she write to Edmund? Might not you
Transport her purposes by word? Belike—
Something, I know not what. I’ll love thee much:
Let me unseal the letter.
OSWALD Madam, I’d rather—
REGAN
I know your lady does not love her husband.
I am sure of that, and at her late being here
She gave strange oeillades and most speaking looks
To noble Edmund. I know you are of her bosom.
OSWALD I, madam?
REGAN
I speak in understanding, for I know’t.
Therefore I do advise you take this note.
My lord is dead. Edmund and I have talked,
And more convenient is he for my hand
Than for your lady’s. You may gather more.
If you do find him, pray you give him this,
And when your mistress hears thus much from you,
I pray desire her call her wisdom to her.
So, farewell.
If you do chance to hear of that blind traitor,