QueenʼsMen Editions

About this text

  • Title: The History of King Leir (Quarto, 1605)
  • Editor: Andrew Griffin

  • Copyright Queen's Men Editions. This text may be freely used for educational, non-profit purposes; for all other uses contact the Editor.
    Author: Anonymous
    Editor: Andrew Griffin
    Peer Reviewed

    The History of King Leir (Quarto, 1605)

    The History of King Leir
    You would go in progresse downe to the sea side,
    Which is very neere.
    King. Fayth, in this motion I will ioyne with thee,
    1860And be a mediator to my Queene.
    Prithy, my Loue, let this match go forward,
    My mind foretels, 'twill be a lucky voyage.
    Cor. Entreaty needs not, where you may cōmaund,
    So you be pleasde, I am right well content:
    1865Yet, as the Sea I much desire to see;
    So am I most vnwilling to be seene.
    King. Weele go disguised, all vnknowne to any.
    Cor. Howsoeuer you make one, ile make another.
    Mum. And I the third: oh, I am ouer-ioyed!
    1870See what loue is, which getteth with a word,
    What all the world besides could ne're obtayne!
    But what disguises shall we haue, my Lord?
    King. Fayth thus: my Queene & I wil be disguisde,
    Like a playne country couple, and you shall be Roger
    1875Our man, and wayt vpon vs: or if you will,
    You shall go first, and we will wayt on you.
    Mum. 'Twere more then time; this deuice is excellent.
    Come let vs about it. Exeunt.
    Enter Cambria and Ragan, with Nobles.
    1880Cam. What strange mischance or vnexpected hap
    Hath thus depriu'd vs of our fathers presence?
    Can no man tell vs what's become of him,
    With whom we did conuerse not two dayes since?
    My Lords, let euery where light-horse be sent,
    1885To scoure about through all our Regiment.
    Dispatch a Poste immediately to Cornwall,
    To see if any newes be of him there;
    My selfe will make a strickt inquiry here,
    And all about our Cities neere at hand,
    1890Till certayne newes of his abode be brought.
    Rag. All sorrow is but counterfet to mine,
    Whose lips are almost sealed vp with griefe:
    Mine is the substance, whilst they do but seeme
    To weepe the lesse, which teares cannot redeeme.
    O,