Lear. Wilt break my heart? Kent. I'd rather break mine own; good my Lord, enter. Lear. Thou think'ft 'tis much, that this contentious Invades us to the fkin; fo 'tis to thee; But where the greater malady is fixt, The leffer is scarce felt. Thou'dft fhun a bear, [ftorm Thou'dft meet the bear i' th' mouth; when the mind's free, No more of that. Kent. Good my Lord, enter here. Lear. Pr'ythee, go in thyfelf; feek thine own ease: This tempeft will not give me leave to ponder On things would hurt me more -but I'll go in, In, boy, go firft. You houfelefs poverty [Tom. Edg. within. Fathom and half, fathom and half! poor Fool. Come not in here, nuncle, here's a fpirit; help me, help me. [The Fool runs out from the hovel. Kent. Give me thy hand, who's there? Kent 量 Kent. What art thou, that doft grumble there i' th' ftraw? come forth. Enter Edgar, difguis'd like a Madman. Edg. Away! the foul fiend follows me. Through the fharp hawthorn blows the cold wind. Humph, go to thy bed and warm thee. 募 Lear. Didft thou give all to thy daughters? and art thou come to this? (29)* Edg (29) Didft thou give all to thy daughters? and art thou come to this?] Here Lear's madness firft begins to break out. His mind, long beating on his afflictions, had laid a preparation for his frenzy: and nothing was wanting but fuch an object as Edgar, to fet it on work, as it were by fympathy. In this our author has fhewn an exquifite knowledge of nature; as he has, with no lefs propriety, diftinguish'd the King's real, from the other's affum'd paflion. What Lear fays, for the most part, fprings either from the fource and fountain of his diforder; the injuries done him by his daughters; or his defire of being reveng'd on them. What Edgar says, seems a fantaflick wildnefs, only extorted to disguise fenfe, and to blunt the fufpicion of his concealment. This makes it, that we are always moft ftrongly affected with the King's madnefs, as we know it to be a real diftrefs. But tho' what Edgar fays, feems extravagance of thought, and the coinage of the poet's brain only, to the end already mention'd; yet I'll venture to affure my readers, his whole frenzy is fatire levell'd at a modern fact, which made no little noife at that period of time: and confequently, muft have been a rapturous entertainment to the fpectators, when it was first prefented. The fecret is this: While the Spaniards were preparing their armado against England, the Jefuits were here bufily at work to promote the fuccefs by making converts. One method they used, to do this, was to difpoffefs pretended demoniacks of their own church: by which artifice, they made fever al hundred converts among the common people, and grew fo elate upon their fuccefs, as to publifh an account of their exploits in this wonderful talent of exorcifing. A main fcene of their business, in this feeming-holy difcipline, lay in the family of one Mr. Edmund Peckbam; where Marwood a fervant of Antony Babington's, (who was afterwards executed for treafon) Trayford an attendant upon Mr. Peckbam, and Sarah and Frifwood Williams and Anne Smith (three chambermaids in that family) were fupposed to be poffefs'd by devils, and came under the hands of the priests for their cure. The parties either fo little lik'd the difcipline, or the jefuits behav'd with fuch ill addrefs, that the confequence was, the impofture was discover'd: the demoniacks were examin'd; and their confeffions taken upon oath before the privy council. The whole matter being blown up, the criminala Edg. Who gives any thing to poor Tom? whom the foul fiend hath led through fire and through flame, through ford and whirlpool, o'er bog and quagmire; that hath laid knives under his pillow, and halters in his pew; fet ratfbane by his porridge, made him proud of heart, to ride on a bay trotting horfe, over four inch'd bridges, to course his own fhadow for a traitor, blefs thy five wits; Tom's a-cold. O do, de, do, de, do, de;-bless thee from whirl-winds, ftar-blafting, and taking; do poor Tom fome charity, whom the foul fiend vexes. There could I have him now, and there, and here again, and there. [Storm fill. Lear. What, have his daughters brought him to this pafs? Could't thou fave nothing? did't thou give 'em all? Fool. Nay, he reserv'd a blanket, else we had been all fhamed. Lear. Now all the plagues, that in the pendulous air Hang fated o'er men's faults, light on thy daughters! Kent. He hath no daughters, Sir. Lear. Death! traitor, nothing could have fubdu'd nature criminals brought to the ftake, and the trick of devil-bunting brought into ridicule; Dr. Harfenet (who was chaplain to archbishop Bancroft, and himself afterwards archbishop of York) wrote a fmart narrative of this whole proceeding under the following title: "A declaration of "egregious popifh impoftures, to withdraw the hearts of her majes"ty's fubjects from their allegiance, &c. under the pretence of caft"ing out devils, practis'd by Edmunds, alias Wefton, a jefuit; and "divers Romih priests, his wicked affociates. Whereunto are an"nex'd the copies of the confeffions and examinations of the parties "themselves, which were pretended to be poffefs'd and difpoffefs'd, "&c. Printed by James Roberts, in 1603."- -This tranfaction was fo rife in every body's mouth, upon the acceffion of King James the ift to the crown; that our poet thought proper to make his court, by helping forward the ridicule of it. I need only observe now, that Edgar thro' all his frenzy fuppofes himself poffefs'd by fiends; and that the greateft part of his diffembled lunacy, the names of his devils, and the defcriptive circumftances he alludes to in his own cafe, are all drawn from this pamphlet, and the confeffions of the poor deluded wretches. The address of our author in this popular piece of fatire, and that excentrick madness he has built upon it, made me imagine, the ftating a fact, fo little known, might apologize for the length of this note on the occafion, Το To fuch a lownefs, but his unkind daughters. Edg. Pillicock fat on pillicock-hill, alow, alow, loo, loo! Fool. This cold night will turn us all to fools, and madmen. Edg. Take heed o' th' foul fiend; obey thy parents; keep thy word juftly; fwear not; commit not with man's fworn fpoufe; fet not thy fweet-heart on proud array. Tom's a-cold. Lear. What haft thou been? Edg. A ferving-man, proud in heart and mind; that (30) curl'd my hair, wore gloves in my cap, ferv'd the luft of my mistress's heart, and did the act of darkness with her: fwore as many oaths as I fpake words, and broke them in the sweet face of heav'n. One that slept (30) that curl'd my hair, wore gloves in my cap;] A learned gentleman, whom I have no privilege to name, intimated to me, that Shakespeare's reading must have been---wore cloves in my cap,---alluding to the prevailing mode, in those days, among the fpruce gallants, of quilting Spices and other perfumes within the linings of their hats. I thought it but juftice to mention a hint fo ferviceably defign'd; tho', with deference, I must be oblig'd to diffent in opinion, and think that the text calls for no alteration. It was a frequet cuftom to wear gloves in the hat, upon three different motives; either as the favour of a miftrefs; in honour of fome other respected friend; or as a mark to be challeng'd by an adverfary where a duel was depending. And to this custom in all these three cafes, has our author at different times alluded. King Richard II. His answer was, he would unto the stews, And from the common'ft creature pluck a glove, King Henry V. Here, uncle Exeter, fill this glove with crowns, And, again, in the fame play. K. Henry. Give me any gage of thine, and I will wear it in my bonnet; then if ever thou durf acknowledge it, I will make it my quarrel. Will. Here's my glove. E in the contriving luft, and awak'd to do it. Wine lov'd I deeply; dice dearly; and in woman, out-paramour'd the Turk. Falfe of heart, light of ear, bloody of hand; hog in floth, fox in ftealth, wolf in greedinefs, dog in madnefs, lion in prey. Let not the creaking of thoes, nor the ruftling of filks, betray thy poor heart to woman. Keep thy foot out of brothels, thy hand out of plackets, thy pen from lender's books, and defy the foul fiend. Still through the hawthorn blows the cold wind: fays fuum, mun, nonny, dolphin, my boy, boy, Seffey: let him trot by. [Storm ftill. Lear. Thou wert better in thy grave, than to answer with thy uncover'd body this extremity of the skies. Is man no more than this? Confider him well. Thou ow'ft the worm no filk, the beast no hide, the sheep no wool, the cat no perfume. Ha! here's three of us are fophifticated. Thou art the thing itself; unaccommodated man is no more but fuch a poor, bare, forked animal as thou art. Off, off, you lendings: come, unbutton here. [Tearing off his clothes. Fool. Pr'ythee, nuncle, be contented; 'tis a naughty night to fwim in. Now a little fire in a wild field, were like an old letcher's heart, a small spark, and all the reft on's body cold; look, here comes a walking fire. Edg. This is the foul Flibbertigibbet; he begins at curfew, and walks till the firft cock; he gives the web and the pin, fquints the eye, and makes the hair-lip; mildews the white wheat, and hurts the poor creature of the earth. St. Withold footed thrice the Wold; (31) (31) Swithold footed thrice the old,] What idea the editors had, or whether any, of footing the old, I cannot pretend to determine. My ingenious friend Mr. Bishop faw it must be Wold, which fignifies a down, or champion ground, hilly and void of wood. And as to St. Withold, we find him again mention'd in our author's troublefom reign of King John, in two parts: Sweet St. Withold, of thy lenity, |