Enter a Gentleman, with Attendants.
Gent. O here he is, lay hand upon him. Sir, Your most dear daughter—
Lear. No rescue? What, a prisoner? I am even The natural fool of fortune! Use me well; You shall have ransom. Let me have a surgeon, I am cut to the brains.
Gent. You shall have anything.
Lear. No seconds? All myself?
Gent. Good Sir,—
Lear. I will die bravely, like a bridegroom: What? I will be jovial. Come, come; I am a king, My masters; know you that?
Gent. You are, a royal one, and we obey you.
Lear. Then there's life in it. Nay, an you get it, you shall get it by running. Sa, sa, sa, sa. [Exit, running; Attendants FOLLOW.] ['Transient hieroglyphic.']
Gent. A sight most pitiful in the meanest wretch; Past speaking of, in A KING!