1    O thou good Kent, how shall I live and work,
2    To match thy goodness? My life will be too short,
3    And every measure fail me.

4    To be acknowledged, madam, is o'erpaid.
5    All my reports go with the modest truth;
6    Nor more nor clipp'd, but so.

7    Be better suited:
8    These weeds are memories of those worser hours:
9    I prithee, put them off.

10   Pardon me, dear madam;
11   Yet to be known shortens my made intent:
12   My boon I make it, that you know me not
13   Till time and I think meet.

14   Then be't so, my good lord.
To the Doctor
15   How does the king?

16   Madam, sleeps still.

17   O you kind gods,
18   Cure this great breach in his abused nature!
19   The untuned and jarring senses, O, wind up
20   Of this child-changed father!

21   So please your majesty
22   That we may wake the king: he hath slept long.

23   Be govern'd by your knowledge, and proceed
24   I' the sway of your own will. Is he array'd?

25   Ay, madam; in the heaviness of his sleep
26   We put fresh garments on him.

27   Be by, good madam, when we do awake him;
28   I doubt not of his temperance.

29   Very well.

30   Please you, draw near. Louder the music there!

31   O my dear father! Restoration hang
32   Thy medicine on my lips; and let this kiss
33   Repair those violent harms that my two sisters
34   Have in thy reverence made!

35   Kind and dear princess!

36   Had you not been their father, these white flakes
37   Had challenged pity of them. Was this a face
38   To be opposed against the warring winds?
39   To stand against the deep dread-bolted thunder?
40   In the most terrible and nimble stroke
41   Of quick, cross lightning? to watch--poor perdu!--
42   With this thin helm? Mine enemy's dog,
43   Though he had bit me, should have stood that night
44   Against my fire; and wast thou fain, poor father,
45   To hovel thee with swine, and rogues forlorn,
46   In short and musty straw? Alack, alack!
47   'Tis wonder that thy life and wits at once
48   Had not concluded all. He wakes; speak to him.

49   Madam, do you; 'tis fittest.

50   How does my royal lord? How fares your majesty?

51   You do me wrong to take me out o' the grave:
52   Thou art a soul in bliss; but I am bound
53   Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears
54   Do scald like moulten lead.

55   Sir, do you know me?

56   You are a spirit, I know: when did you die?

57   Still, still, far wide!

58   He's scarce awake: let him alone awhile.

59   Where have I been? Where am I? Fair daylight?
60   I am mightily abused. I should e'en die with pity,
61   To see another thus. I know not what to say.
62   I will not swear these are my hands: let's see;
63   I feel this pin prick. Would I were assured
64   Of my condition!

65   O, look upon me, sir,
66   And hold your hands in benediction o'er me:
67   No, sir, you must not kneel.

68   Pray, do not mock me:
69   I am a very foolish fond old man,
70   Fourscore and upward, not an hour more nor less;
71   And, to deal plainly,
72   I fear I am not in my perfect mind.
73   Methinks I should know you, and know this man;
74   Yet I am doubtful for I am mainly ignorant
75   What place this is; and all the skill I have
76   Remembers not these garments; nor I know not
77   Where I did lodge last night. Do not laugh at me;
78   For, as I am a man, I think this lady
79   To be my child Cordelia.

80   And so I am, I am.

81   Be your tears wet? yes, 'faith. I pray, weep not:
82   If you have poison for me, I will drink it.
83   I know you do not love me; for your sisters
84   Have, as I do remember, done me wrong:
85   You have some cause, they have not.

86   No cause, no cause.

87   Am I in France?

88   In your own kingdom, sir.

89   Do not abuse me.

90   Be comforted, good madam: the great rage,
91   You see, is kill'd in him: and yet it is danger
92   To make him even o'er the time he has lost.
93   Desire him to go in; trouble him no more
94   Till further settling.

95   Will't please your highness walk?

96   You must bear with me:
97   Pray you now, forget and forgive: I am old and foolish.

98   Holds it true, sir, that the Duke of Cornwall was so slain?

99   Most certain, sir.

100  Who is conductor of his people?

101  As 'tis said, the bastard son of Gloucester.

102  They say Edgar, his banished son, is with the Earl
103  of Kent in Germany.

104  Report is changeable. 'Tis time to look about; the
105  powers of the kingdom approach apace.

106  The arbitrement is like to be bloody. Fare you
107  well, sir.

108  My point and period will be throughly wrought,
109  Or well or ill, as this day's battle's fought.