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  • Title: King Lear (Quarto 1, 1608)
  • Editor: Michael Best
  • Textual editors: James D. Mardock, Eric Rasmussen
  • 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: Michael Best
    Not Peer Reviewed

    King Lear (Quarto 1, 1608)

    The Historie of King Lear.
    Moreouer to discrie the strength at'h army.
    2400Stew. I must needs after him with my letters
    Reg. Our troope sets forth to morrow stay with vs,
    The wayes are dangerous.
    Stew. I may not Madame, my Lady charg'd my dutie in this
    2405Reg. Why should she write to Edmund? might not you
    Transport her purposes by word, belike
    Some thing, I know not what, ile loue thee much,
    Let me vnseale the letter.
    Stew. Madam I'de rather---
    2410Reg. I know your Lady does not loue her husband
    I am sure of that, and at her late being here
    Shee gaue strange aliads, and most speaking lookes
    To noble Edmund, I know you are of her bosome.
    Stew. I Madam.
    2415Reg. I speake in vnderstanding, for I know't,
    Therefore I doe aduise you take this note,
    My Lord is dead, Edmund and I haue talkt,
    And more conuenient is he for my hand
    Then for your Ladies, you may gather more
    2420If you doe find him, pray you giue him this,
    And when your mistris heares thus much from you
    I pray desire her call her wisedome to her, so farewell,
    If you doe chance to heare of that blind traytor,
    2425Preferment fals on him that cuts him off.
    Ste. Would I could meet him Madam, I would shew
    What Lady I doe follow.
    Reg. Fare thee well.
    2430Enter Gloster and Edmund.
    Glost. When shall we come toth' top of that same hill?
    Edg. You do climbe it vp now, looke how we labour?
    Glost. Me thinks the ground is euen.
    Edg. Horrible steepe, 2435harke doe you heare the sea?
    Glost. No truly.
    Edg. Why then your other sences grow imperfect
    By your eyes anguish.
    Glost. So may it be indeed,