954 Edm. A herald, ho, a herald! Alb. Trust to thy single virtue; for thy soldiers, All levied in my name, have, in my name, Reg. This sickness grows upon me. Enter a Herald. Alb. She is not well; convey her to my tent. [Exit REGAN, led. Come hither,herald.-Let the trumpet sound,— And read out this. Off. Sound, trumpet. [A Trumpet sounds. If any man of quality, or degree, within the lists of the army, will maintain upon Edmund, supposed earl of Gloster, that he is a manifold traitor, let him appear at the third sound of the trumpet: He is bold in his defence. Edm. Sound. Her. Again. Her. Again. [1 Trumpet. [2 Trumpet. [3 Trumpet. [Trumpet answers within. Enter EDGAR, armed, preceded by a Trumpet. Alb. Ask him his purposes, why he appears Upon this call o'the trumpet. What are you? Her. Your name, your quality? and why you answer This present summons? Edg. Know, my name is lost; By treason's tooth bare-gnawn, and canker-bit: Yet am I noble as the adversary I come to cope withal. Alb. Which is that adversary? Edg. What's he, that speaks for Edmund earl of Gloster? Edm. Himself;-What sayst thou to him? Edg. Draw thy sword; That, if my speech offend a noble heart, Thy arm may do thee justice: here is mine. Behold, it is the privilege of mine honours, My oath, and my profession: I protest,Maugret thy strength, youth, place, and emi nence, Despite thy victor sword, and fire-new fortune, bent To prove upon thy heart, whereto I speak, Edm. In wisdom, I should ask thy name; What safe and nicely I might well delay By rule of knighthood, I disdain and spurn: With the hell-hated lie o'erwhelm thy heart; Ask me not what I know. [Erit GONERIL. Alb. Go after her: she's desperate; govern ber. [To an Officer, who goes out. Edm. What you have charged me with, that have I done; And more, much more: the time will bring it Let's exchange charity. Edm. Thou hast spoken right, 'tis true; The wheel is come full circle; I am here. Alb. Methought, thy very gait did prophesy A royal nobleness: I must embrace thee; Let sorrow split my heart, if ever 1 Did hate thee, or thy father! Edg. I know it well. Alb. Worthy prince, Where have you hid yourself! How have you known the miseries of your father? [brief tale; Edg. By nursing them, my lord-List a And, when 'tis told, O, that my heart would The bloody proclamation to escape, [burst! That follow'd me so near, (0, our lives' sweet ness! That with the pain of death we'd hourly die, + Notwithstanding. ↑ Because if his adversary was not of equal rank, Edmund might have declined the combat i i. e., Valour. § Sample. you on; You look as you had something more to say. Edg. This would have seem'd a period Whilst I was big in clamour, came there a man, Gent. Help! help! O help! Edg. Alb. What kind of help? Speak, man. Edg. What means that bloody knife? Gent. 'Tis hot, it smokes; It came even from the heart ofAlb. Who, man? speak. Gent. Your lady, sir, your lady: and her By her is poison'd; she confesses it. [sister Edm.I was contracted to them both; all three Now marry in an instant. dead! Alb. Produce their bodies, be they alive or [tremble, This judgment of the heavens, that makes us Touches us not with pity. [Exit Gentleman. Enter KENT. Here comes Kent, sir. The time will not allow the compliment, Kent. I am come To bid my king and master aye good night; Is he not here? Alb. Great thing of us forgot!Speak, Edmund, where's the king? and where's. Seest thou this object, Kent? [Cordelia?[The Bodies of GONERIL and REGAN are brought in. Kent. Alack, why thus? Edm. Yet Edmund was beloved: The one the other poison'd for my sake, And after slew herself. Alb. Even so.-Cover their faces. [to do, Edm. I pant for life.-Some good I mean Despite of mine own nature. Quickly send,Be brief in it,-to the castle; for my writ Is on the life of Lear, and on Cordelia:Nay, send in time. Alb. Run, run, O, run— Edg. To who, my lord?-Who has the office? Thy token of reprieve. [send Edm. Well thought on; take my sword, Give it the captain. Alb. Haste thee, for thy life. [Erit EDG. Edm. He hath commission from thy wife To hang Cordelia in the prison, and [and me, To lay the blame upon her own despair, That she fordidt herself. awhile. Alo. The gods defend her! Bear him hence [EDMUND is borne off Enter LEAR, with CORDELIA dead in his arms; EDGAR, Officer, and others. Lear. Howl, howl, howl, howl!--O, you are men of stones; Had I your tongues and eyes, I'd use them so That heaven's vault should crack:-0, she is gone for ever! I know when one is dead, and when one lives; The end of the world, or the horrib § i. e., Die; Albany speaks to Lear. Enter an Officer. Off. Edmund is dead, my lord. Lear. And my poor fool is hang'd! No, Why should a dog, a horse a rat, have life, i. e., Lear. And thon no breath at all? O, thou wilt come Look there, look there! [He dies. he hates him, long: [business Alb. Bear them from hence.-Our present Is general woe. Friends of my soul, you twain, (To KENT and Evers. Rule in this realm, and the gored state sustain. Kent. I have a journey, sir, shortly to go; My master calls, and I must not say no. He but usurp'd his life. Alb. The weight of this sad time we must obey; Shall never see so much, nor live so long. -t Benefit. § Titles. Die. • Useless. The tragedy of Lear is deservedly celebrated among the dramas of Shakspeare. There is perhaps no play which keeps the attention so strongly fixed; which so much agitates ear passions, and interests our curiosity. The artful involutions of distinct interests, the striking oppositions of contrary characters, the sudden changes of fortune, and the quick succession of events, fill the mind with a perpetual tumult of indignation, pity, and hope. There is no scene which does not contribute to the aggravation of the distress or conduct of the action, and scarce a line which does not conduce to the progress of the scene. So powerful is the current of the poet's imagination, that the mind, which once ventures within it, is burried irresistibly along. Ou the seeming improbability of Lear's conduct, it may be observed, that he is represented according to histories at that time volgarly received as true. And, perhaps, if we torn our thoughts upon the barbarity and ignorance of the age to which this story is referred, it will appear not so unlikely as while we estimate Lear's manners by our own. Such preference of one daughter to another, or resignation of dominion on such conditions, would be yet credible, if told of a petty prince of Guinea or Madagascar. Shakspeare, indeed, by the mention of his earls and dukes, has given us the idea of times more civilized, and of life regulated by softer manners; and the truth is, that though he so nicely discriminates, and so minutely describes the characters of men, he commonly neglects and confounds the characters of ages, by mingling customs ancient and modern, English and foreign. My learned friend, Mr. Warton, who has, in THE ADVENTURER, very minutely criticised this play, remarks, that the instances of cruelty are too savage and shocking, and that the intervention of Edmund destroys the simplicity of the story. These objections may, I think, be answered by repeating, that the cruelty of the daughters is an historical fact, to which the poet has added little, having only drawn it into a series of dialogue and action. But I am not able to apologize with equal plausibility for the extrusion of Gloster's eyes, which seems an act too horrid to be endured in dramatic exhibition, and such as mast always compel the mind to relieve its distress by incredulity. Yet let it be remembered, that our author well knew what would please the audience for which he wrote. The injury done by Edmund to the simplicity of the action, is abundantly recompensed by Dr. Joseph Warton. KING LEAR. ne addition of variety, by the art with which he is made to co-operate with the chief design, and the opportunity which he gives the poet of combining perfidy with perfidy, and connect ing the wicked son with the wicked daughters, to impress this important moral, that villany is never at a stop, that crimes lead to crimes, and at last terminate in ruin. But though this moral be incidentally enforced, Shakspeare has suffered the virtue of CorYet this conduct is justified delia to perish in a just cause, contrary to the natural ideas of justice, to the hope of the reader, and what is yet more strange, to the faith of chronicle! by THE SPECTATOR, who blames Tate for giving Cordelia success and happiness in his altera"the tragedy has lost half its beauty." Dennis has tion, and declares, that in his opinion, remarked, whether justly or not, that, to secure the favourable reception of" Cato, the town was poisoned with much false and abominable criticism," and that endeavours had been used to discredit and decry poetical justice. A play in which the wicked prosper, and the virtuous miscarry, may doubtless be good, because it is a just representation of the common events of human life: but since all reasonable beings naturally love justice, I cannot easily be persuaded, that the observation of justice makes a play worse; or that if other excellencies are equal, the audience will not always rise better pleased from the final triumph of persecuted virtue. In the present case, the public has decided. Cordelia, from the time of Tate, has always retired with victory and felicity. And, if my sensations could add any thing to the general suffrage, I might relate, I was many years ago so shocked by Cordelia's death, that I know not whether I ever endured to read again the last scenes of the play till I undertook to revise them as an editor. There is another controversy among the critics concerning this play. It is disputed whether the predominant image in Lear's disordered mind be the loss of his kingdom, or the cruelty of his daughters. Mr Murphy, a very judicious critic, has evinced by induction of particular passages, that the cruelty of his daughters is the primary source of his distress, and that the loss of royalty affects him only as a secondary and subordinate evil. He observes, with great justness, that Lear would move our compassion but little, did we not rather consider the injured father than the degraded king. The story of this play, except the episode of Edmund, which is derived, I think, from Sidney, is taken originally from Geoffry of Monmouth, whoin Holingshed generally copied; but perhaps immediately from an old historical ballad. My reason for believing that the play was posterior to the ballad, rather than the ballad to the play, is, that the ballad has nothing of Shakspeare's nocturnal tempest, which is too striking to have been omitted, and that it follows the chronicle; it has the rudiments of the play, but none of its amplifications: It first hinted Lear's madness, but did not array it in circumstances. The writer of the ballad added something to the history, which is a proof that he would have added more, if more had occurred to his mind, and more must have occurred if he had seen Shakspeare. JOHNSON. ACT SCENE I. A public Place. Sam. Gregory, o'my word we'll not carry coals.. Gre. No, for then we should be colliers. Sam. I mean, an we be in choler, we'll draw. Gre. Ay, while you live, draw your neck out of the collar. Sam. I strike quickly, being moved. Gre. But thou art not quickly moved to strike. Sam. A dog of the house of Montague moves me. Gre. To move, is-to stir; and to be valiant, is-to stand to it: therefore, if thou art moved, thou ruun'st away. Sum. A dog of that house shall move me to stand: I will take the wall of any man or inaid of Montague's. The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love, remove, Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage; The which if you with patient ears attend, What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend. I. Gre. That shows thee a weak slave; for the weakest goes to the wall. Sam. True; and therefore women, being the weaker vessels, are ever thrust to the wall: therefore I will push Montague's men from the wall, and thrust bis maids to the wall. Gre. The quarrel is between our masters, and us their men. Sam. "Tis all one, I will show myself a ty raut: when I have fought with the men, I will be cruel with the maids; I will cut off their heads. Gre. The heads of the maids? Sam. Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads; take it in what sense thou wilt. Gre. They must take it in sense, that feel it. Sam. Me they shall feel, while I am able to stand: and, 'tis known, I am a pretty piece of flesh. Gre. 'Tis well thou art not fish; if thon hadst, thou hadst been poor Johnt. Draw thy • A phrase formerly in use to signify the bearing injuries. |