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Cor. And so I am: I am
Lear. Be your teares wet?
Yes faith: I pray weepe not,
If you haue poyson for me, I will drinke it:
I know you do not loue me, for your Sisters
Haue (as I do remember) done me wrong.
You haue some cause, they haue not
Cor. No cause, no cause
Lear. Am I in France?
Kent. In your owne kingdome Sir
Lear. Do not abuse me
Gent. Be comforted good Madam, the great rage
You see is kill'd in him: desire him to go in,
Trouble him no more till further setling
Cor. Wilt please your Highnesse walke?
Lear. You must beare with me:
Pray you now forget, and forgiue,
I am old and foolish.
Exeunt.
Actus Quintus. Scena Prima.
Enter with Drumme and Colours, Edmund, Regan. Gentlemen, and
Souldiers.
Bast. Know of the Duke if his last purpose hold,
Or whether since he is aduis'd by ought
To change the course, he's full of alteration,
And selfereprouing, bring his constant pleasure
Reg. Our Sisters man is certainely miscarried
Bast. 'Tis to be doubted Madam
Reg. Now sweet Lord,
You know the goodnesse I intend vpon you:
Tell me but truly, but then speake the truth,
Do you not loue my Sister?
Bast. In honour'd Loue
Reg. But haue you neuer found my Brothers way,
To the fore-fended place?
Bast. No by mine honour, Madam
Reg. I neuer shall endure her, deere my Lord
Be not familiar with her
Bast. Feare not, she and the Duke her husband.
Enter with Drum and Colours, Albany, Gonerill, Soldiers.
Alb. Our very louing Sister, well be-met:
Sir, this I heard, the King is come to his Daughter
With others, whom the rigour of our State
Forc'd to cry out
Regan. Why is this reasond?
Gone. Combine together 'gainst the Enemie:
For these domesticke and particular broiles,
Are not the question heere
Alb. Let's then determine with th' ancient of warre
On our proceeding
Reg. Sister you'le go with vs?
Gon. No
Reg. 'Tis most conuenient, pray go with vs
Gon. Oh ho, I know the Riddle, I will goe.
Exeunt. both the Armies.
Enter Edgar.
Edg. If ere your Grace had speech with man so poore,
Heare me one word
Alb. Ile ouertake you, speake
Edg. Before you fight the Battaile, ope this Letter:
If you haue victory, let the Trumpet sound
For him that brought it: wretched though I seeme,
I can produce a Champion, that will proue
What is auouched there. If you miscarry,
Your businesse of the world hath so an end,
And machination ceases. Fortune loues you
Alb. Stay till I haue read the Letter