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