Internet Shakespeare Editions


Jump to line
Help on texts

About this text

  • 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    Not Peer Reviewed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.
    2660Gent. 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,
    2665To dye before you please.
    Edg. Well pray you father.
    Glo. Now good sir what are you.
    Edg. A most poore man, made lame by fortunes blowes,
    Who by the Art of knowne and feeling sorrowes
    2670Am pregnant to good pitty. Giue me your hand,
    Ile lead you to some biding.
    Glost. Hearty thankes, the bounty and benizon of heauen
    to boot, to boot.

    2675Enter Steward.

    Stew. A proclaim'd prize, most happy; that eyles head of thine
    was first framed flesh to raise my fortunes. Thou most vnhappy
    Traitor, briefely thy selfe remember, the sword is out that must
    2680destroy thee.
    Glo. Now let thy friendly hand put strength enough to't.
    Stew. Wherefore bolde pezant darst thou support a publisht
    traytor, hence least 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 diest.
    2690Edg. Good Gentleman goe your gate, let poore volke passe:
    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 costard 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.