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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    Not Peer Reviewed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.
    With the hell hatedly ore-turn'd thy heart,
    Which for they yet glance by, and scarsely bruise,
    3105 This sword of mine shall giue them in stant way,
    Where they shall re st for euer, Trumpets speake.
    Alb. Saue him, saue him.
    Gon. This is meere practice Glo ster, by the law of Armes
    Thou art not bound to offer an vnknowne oppo site,
    3110 Thou art not vanqui sht, but cousned and beguild.
    Alb. Stop your mouth Dame, or with this paper shall I stop
    it: thou worse then any thing, reade thine owne euill. Nay, no
    3115 tearing Lady, I perceiue you know't.
    Gon. Say if do, the lawes are mine not thine, who shal araign
    me for it.
    Alb. Mon ster, know st thou this paper?
    Gon. Aske me not what I know. Exit Gonorill .
    3120 Alb. Go after her, she's desperate, gouerne her.
    Ba st . What you haue charg'd me with, that haue I done,
    And more, much more, the time will bring it out.
    Tis pa st, and so am I: but what art thou that ha st this fortune on
    3125 me? If thou bee st noble, I do forgiue thee.
    Edg. Let's exchange charity,
    I am no le s s e in blood then thou art Edmund,
    If more, the more thou ha st wrongd me.
    3130 My name is Edgar, and thy fathers sonne,
    The Gods are iu st, and of our pleasant vertues
    Make in struments to scourge vs: the darke and vitious place
    Where he thee got, co st him his eyes.
    3135 Ba st . Thou ha st spoken truth,
    The wheele is come full circkled, I am heere.
    Alb. Me thought thy very gate did prophe sie
    A royall noblene s s e, I mu st embrace thee,
    Let sorow split my heart if I did euer hate thee or thy father.
    Edg. Worthy Prince I know it.
    Alb. Where haue you hid your selfe?
    How haue you knowne the miseries of your father?
    Edg. By nur sing them my Lord,
    3145 Li st a breefe tale, and when tis told,