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  • Title: King Lear (Quarto 2, 1619)
  • Editor: Pervez Rizvi
  • Coordinating editor: Michael Best
  • ISBN: 978-1-55058-463-9

    Copyright Michael Best. This text may be freely used for educational, non-profit purposes; for all other uses contact the Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Editor: Pervez Rizvi
    Not Peer Reviewed

    King Lear (Quarto 2, 1619)

    The History of King Lear.
    Gent. Neere and on the speed for't, the maine descries,
    Stands on the hourely thoughts.
    Edg. I thanke you sir, thats all.
    2660 Gent. Though that the Queene on speciall cause is heere,
    His army is mou'd on.
    Edg. I thanke you sir. Exit
    Glo. You euer gentle gods take my breath from me,
    Let not my worser spirit tempt me againe,
    2665 To dye before you please.
    Edg. Well pray you father.
    Glo. Now good sir what are you.
    Edg. A mo st poore man, made lame by fortunes blowes,
    Who by the Art of knowne and feeling sorrowes
    2670 Am pregnant to good pitty. Giue me your hand,
    Ile lead you to some biding.
    Glo st . Hearty thankes, the bounty and benizon of heauen
    to boot, to boot.

    2675 Enter Steward.

    Stew. A proclaim'd prize, mo st happy; that eyles head of thine
    was fir st framed fle sh to raise my fortunes. Thou mo st vnhappy
    Traitor, briefely thy selfe remember, the sword is out that mu st
    2680 de stroy thee.
    Glo. Now let thy friendly hand put strength enough to't.
    Stew. Wherefore bolde pezant dar st thou support a publi sht
    traytor, hence lea st the infection of his fortune take like hold on
    thee, let go his arme.
    Edg. Chill not let go sir without cagion.
    Stew. Let go slaue, or thou die st.
    2690 Edg. Good Gentleman goe your gate, let poore volke pa s s e:
    and chud haue been zwaggar'd out of my life, it would not haue
    bene zo long by a vortnight: nay come not neere the olde man,
    keepe out cheuore ye, or ile try whether your co stard or my bat
    be the harder, chill be plaine with you.
    Stew. Out dunghill. They fight.
    Edg. Chil pick your teeth zir, come no matter for your foines.