Cord. 0, fatal period of ill govern'd life! Lear. Ingrateful as they were, my heart feels yet A pang of nature for their wretched fall. But, Edgar, I defer thy joys too long : Thou served'st distress'd Cordelia; take her crown'd, Th’ imperial grace fresh blooming on her brow: Nay, Gloster, thou hast here a father's right; Thy helping hand to heap blessings on their heads. ent. Old Kent throws in his hearty wishes too. Edg. The gods and you too largely recompense What I have done; the gift strikes merit . Cord. Nor do I blush to own myself o'erpaid For all my suff’rings past. Edg. Divine Cordelia, all the gods can witness How much thy love to empire I prefer. Thy bright example shall convince the world, Whatever storms of fortune are decreed, That truth and virtue shall at last sueceed. Glost. Now, gentle gods, give Gloster his discharge | Dear. No, Gloster, thou hast business yet for life ; Thou, Kent, and I, retired to some close cell, Will gently pass our short reserves of time, In calm reflections on our fortunes past, Cheer'd with relation of the prosperous reign Of this celestial pair; thus our remains Shall in an even course of thought be past, Enjoy the present hour, nor fear the last. [exeunt omnes



If north of Aberfoil you've ever been,
*Mongst Scotland’s highland sons, you must have seen
A custom common and inveterate there,
That every one, almost is used to wear,
A face as thin and hardy as a hatchet.
There lived in Dornoch, long ago, a man
With jaws more lank I think than e'er you saw,
Dame nature had surpassed her usual plan,
And out be-scotchified a lanthorn jaw:

From that to Solway-Firth not one could match it.



Still laboring on with more of haste than care,

He hardly even stopt to spit and swear;
Because forsooth he hadn't time to linger:

*Till finding gentler touches all must fail,
He made a scrape that rather pair'd his nail,
By giving Mac a window to his face;
But not reflecting on the woeful case,
Cried, “ damn your lanthorn jaws, I’ve cut my
finger!” |

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