[Enter Kent in disguise and a Gentleman.]
KENT Why the King of France is so suddenly gone
back know you no reason?
GENTLEMAN Something he left imperfect in the state,
which since his coming forth is thought of, which
 imports to the kingdom so much fear and danger
that his personal return was most required and
KENT Who hath he left behind him general?
GENTLEMAN The Marshal of France, Monsieur La Far.
KENT Did your letters pierce the Queen to any demonstration
Ay, sir, she took them, read them in my
And now and then an ample tear trilled down
 Her delicate cheek. It seemed she was a queen
Over her passion, who, most rebel-like,
Fought to be king o’er her.
KENT O, then it moved her.
Not to a rage. Patience and sorrow strove
 Who should express her goodliest. You have seen
Sunshine and rain at once; her smiles and tears
Were like a better way. Those happy smilets
That played on her ripe lip seemed not to know
What guests were in her eyes, which parted thence
 As pearls from diamonds dropped. In brief,
Sorrow would be a rarity most beloved
If all could so become it.
KENT Made she no verbal question?
Faith, once or twice she heaved the name of
Pantingly forth, as if it pressed her heart;
Cried “Sisters, sisters, shame of ladies, sisters!
Kent, father, sisters! What, i’ th’ storm, i’ th’ night?
Let pity not be believed!” There she shook
 The holy water from her heavenly eyes,
And clamor moistened. Then away she started,
To deal with grief alone.
KENT It is the stars.
The stars above us govern our conditions,
 Else one self mate and make could not beget
Such different issues. You spoke not with her
Was this before the King returned?
GENTLEMAN No, since.
Well, sir, the poor distressèd Lear’s i’ th’ town,
Who sometime in his better tune remembers
What we are come about, and by no means
Will yield to see his daughter.
GENTLEMAN Why, good sir?
A sovereign shame so elbows him—his own
That stripped her from his benediction, turned her
To foreign casualties, gave her dear rights
 To his dog-hearted daughters—these things sting
His mind so venomously that burning shame
Detains him from Cordelia.
GENTLEMAN Alack, poor gentleman!
Of Albany’s and Cornwall’s powers you heard not?
GENTLEMAN ’Tis so. They are afoot.
Well, sir, I’ll bring you to our master Lear
And leave you to attend him. Some dear cause
Will in concealment wrap me up awhile.
When I am known aright, you shall not grieve
 Lending me this acquaintance. I pray you, go
Along with me.