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Kent. What art thou, that dost grumble there i' th" Araw? come forth.

Enter Edgar, disguis'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.

Lear. Didst thou give all to thy daughters? and art

thou come to this? (29)

Edg

(29) Didst thou give all to thy daughters? and art thou come to this?] Here Lear's madness first begins to break out. His mind, long beat. ing on his afflictions, had laid a preparation for his frenzy: and nothing was wanting but such an object as Edgar, to set it on work, as it were by sympathy. In this our author has shewn an exquifite knowledge of nature; as he has, with no less propriety, diftinguish'd the King's real, from the other's affum'd passion.. What Lear says, for the most part, springs either from the source and fountain of his disorder; the injuries done him by his daughters; or his defire of being reveng'd on them. What Edgar says, seems a fantastick wildness, only extorted to disguise sense, and to blunt the suspicion of his concealment. This makes it, that we are always most strongly affected with the King's madness, as we know it to be a real distress.. But tho' what Edgar says, seems 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 satire levell'd att. a modern fact, which made no little noise at that period of time: and confequently, must have been a rapturous entertainment to the spectators, when it was first presented. The secret is this: While the Spaniards were preparing their armado against England, the Jesuits were here bufily at work to promote the success by making converts.. One method they used, to do this, was to dispossess pretended demonjacks of their own church: by which artifice, they made several hundred converts among the common people, and grew so elate upon. their success, as to publish an account of their exploits in this wonderful talent of exorcising. A main scene of their business, in this seeming-holy discipline, lay in the family of one Mr. Edmund Peck-. ham; where Marwood a servant of Antony Babington's, (who was af-. terwards executed for treason) Trayford an attendant upon Mr. Peckham, and Sarah and Frifwood Williams and Anne Smith (three cham-. bermaids in that family) were supposed to be possess'd by devils, and came under the hands of the priests for their cure. The parties either so little lik'd the discipline, or the jesuits behav'd with such ill ad-. dress, that the consequence was, the imposture 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 criminals

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 horse, over four inch'd bridges, to course his own shadow for a traitor, -bless thy five wits; Tom's a-cold. O do, de, do, de, do, de; - bless thee from whirl-winds, star-blasting, and taking; do poor Tom some charity, whom the foul fiend vexes. There could I have him now, and there, and here again, and there. Lear. What, have his daughters brought him to this pafs?

[Storm ftill.

Could'it thou save nothing? did'st thou give 'em all?

Fool. Nay, he referv'd a blanket, elle we had been all ashamed.

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 subdu'd nature criminals brought to the stake, and the trick of devil-bunting brought into ridicule; Dr. Harfenet (who was chaplain to archbishop Bancrofts and himself afterwards archbishop of York) wrote a smart narrative of this whole proceeding under the following title: "A declaration of " egregious popish impoftures, to withdraw the hearts of her majef "ty's fubjects from their allegiance, &c. under the pretence of caft"ing out devils, practis'd by Edmunds, alias Weston, a jesuit; and. "divers Romish priests, his wicked associates. Whereunto are an"nex'd the copies of the confeflions and examinations of the parties -" themselves, which were pretended to be possess'd and difpoffefs'd, " &c. Printed by James Roberts, in 1603." - - This transaction was so rife in every body's mouth, upon the acceffion of King James the ist 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 supposes himself possess'd by fiends, and that the greatest part of his dissembled lunacy, the names of his devils, and the descriptive circumstances 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 stating a fact, so little known, might apologize for the length of this note on the occafion.

To

To such a lowness, but his unkind daughters.
Is it the fashion, that discarded fathers
Should have thus little mercy on their flesh ?
Judicious punishment! 'twas this flesh begot
Those pelican daughters.

Edg. Pillicock fat on pillicock-hill, alow, alow, loo, 100!

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 justly; swear not; commit not with man's sworn spouse, set not thy sweet 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 lust of my mistress's heart, and did the act of darkness with her: swore as many oaths as I spake words, and broke them in the sweet face of heav'n. One that slept

(30)that curl'd my bair, wore gloves in my cap;] A learned gentleman, whom I have no privilege to name, intimated to me, that gentleman, Shakespeare's reading must have been wore cloves in my cap,-alluding to the prevailing mode, in those days, among the spruce gallants, of quilting Spices and other perfumes within the linings of their hats. I thought it but justice to mention a hint so serviceably defign'd; thơ', with deference, I must be oblig'd to diffent in opinion, and think that the text calls for no alteration. It was a frequent cuftom to wear gloves in the hat, upon three different motives; either as the favour of a mistress; in honour of fome other respected friend; or as a mark to be challeng'd by an adversary 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'st creature pluck a glove,
And wear it as a favour.

King Henry V.

Here, uncle Exeter, fill this glove with crowns,
And give it to this fellow. Keep it, fellow,

And wear it for an honour in thy cap.

And, again, in the same play.

K. Henry. Give me any gage of thine, and I will wear it in my bonnet; then if ever thou durft acknowledge it, I will make it my quarrel.

Will. Here's my glove

in the contriving lust, and awak'd to do it. Wine lov'd I deeply; dice dearly; and in woman, out-paramour'd the Turk. False of heart, light of ear, bloody of hand; hog in sloth, fox in stealth, wolf in greediness, dog in madness, lion in prey. Let not the creaking of shoes, nor the rustling 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'st the worm no filk, the beast no hide, the sheep no wool, the cat no perfume. Ha! here's three of us are fophisticated. 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 swim in. Now a little fire in a wild field, were like an old letcher's heart, a small spark, and all the rest on's body cold; look, here comes a walking fire.

Edg. This is the foul Flibbertigibbet; he begins at curfew, and walks till the first cock; he gives the web and the pin, squints 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)
He met the night-mare, and her nine-fold,

(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. Witbold, we find him again mention'd in our author's troublefam reign

of King John, in two parts:

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Sweet St. Withold, of thy lenity,
Defend us from extremity.

Bid her alight, and her troth plight,
And aroynt thee, witch, aroynt thee.

Kent. How fares your Grace ?

Enter Glo'ster, with a torch.

Lear. What's he?

Kent. Who's there? what is't you seek ?
Glo. What are you there? your names?

Edg. Poor Tom, that eats the swimming frog, the toad, the tod-pole; the wall-newt, and the water-newt; that in the fury of his heart, when the foul fiend rages, eats cow-dung for fallets; swallows the old rat, and the ditch-dog; drinks the green mantle of the standing pool; who is whipt from tything to tything, and stockpunism'd, and imprisoned: who hath had three suits to his back, fix shirts to his body;

Horse to ride, and weapon to wear;
But mire, and rats, and such small deer
Have been Tom's food for seven long year.

Beware my follower. Peace, Smolkin, peace, thou fiend!
Glo. What, hath your Grace no better company?
Edg. The Prince of Darkness is a gentleman, Mode
he's call'd, and Mahu.

Glo. Our flesh and blood, my Lord, is grown so vile,
That it doth hate what gets it.
Edg. Tom's a-cold.

Glo. Go in with me; my duty cannot fuffer
T'obey in all your Daughters hard commands;
Though their injunction be to bar my doors,
And let this tyrannous night take hold upon you;
Yet have I ventur'd to come seek you out,

And bring you, where both fire and food is ready.
Lear. First, let me talk with this Philosopher;
What is the cause of thunder?-

Kent. My good Lord, take his offer,

Go into th' house.

Lear. I'll talk a word with this fame learned Theban': What is your study?

Edg. How to prevent the fiend, and to kill vermin.

Lear

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