Lear.
Attend the lords of Albany and Cornwall,
With princely Burgundy?

All.
We do, my liege.

Lear.
Give me the map here. Know, we have divided,
In three, our kingdom; and 'tis our fast intent,
To shake all cares and business from our age;
Conferring them on younger strengths, while we,
Unburthen'd, crawl tow'rd death.
You, Burgundy, Albany, and Cornwall,
Long in our court have made your am'rous sojourn,
And here are to be answered. Tell me, daughters,
Which of you shall we say doth love us most?
That we our largest bounty may extend,
Where nature doth with merit challenge. Goneril,
Our eldest born, speak first.

Gon.
I love you, sir,
Dearer than eye-sight, space and liberty;
Beyond what can be valu'd, rich or rare;
No less than life, with grace, health, beauty, honour;
As much as child e'er lov'd, or father found.
A love that makes breath poor, and speech unable;
Beyond all manner of so much, I love you.

Cor.
What shall Cordelia do? Love and be silent. [Aside.

Lear.
Of all these bounds, ev'n from this line to this,
With shadowy forests, and with champains rich'd,
With plenteous rivers, and wide-skirted meads,
We make thee lady. To thine and Albany's issue

Be this perpetual.—What says our second daughter?
Our dearest Regan, wife of Cornwall, speak.

Reg.
I'm made of that self-metal as my sister,
And prize me at her worth. In my true heart,
I find she names my very deed of love;
Only she comes too short: that I profess
Myself an enemy to all other joys,
Which the most precious square of sense possesses;
And find I am alone felicitate,
In your dear highness' love.

Lear.
To thee and thine, hereditary ever,
Remain this ample third of our fair kingdom;
No less in space, validity, and pleasure,
Than that conferr'd on Goneril.

Cor.
Then, poor Cordelia!
And yet not so, since I am sure my love's
More pond'rous than my tongue. [Aside.

Lear.
Now, our joy,
Although our last, not least in our dear love,
Cordelia, speak, what canst thou say, to draw
A third more opulent than your sister? Speak.

Cor.
Nothing, my lord.

Lear.
Nothing?

Cor.
Nothing.

Lear.
Nothing can come of nothing—speak again.

Cor.
Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave
My heart into my mouth: I love your majesty,
According to my bond, no more nor less.† ^note

Lear.
How, how, Cordelia? Mend your speech a little,
Lest you may mar your fortunes.

Cor.
Good my lord,
You gave me being; bred me; lov'd me; I
Return those duties back, as are right fit;
Obey you, love you, and most honour you.
Why have my sisters husbands, if they say,

They love you all? Haply, when I shall wed,
That lord, whose hand must take my plight, shall carry
Half my love with him, half my care and duty.
Sure I shall never marry, like my sisters,
To love my father all.

Lear.
But goes thy heart with this?

Cor.
Ay, my good lord.

Lear.
So young and so untender?

Cor.
So young, my lord, and true.

Lear.
Let it be so: thy truth then be thy dower:
For by the sacred radiance of the sun,
The mysteries of Hecate, and the night;
By all the operations of the orbs,
From whom we do exist, and cease to be;
Here I disclaim all my paternal care,
Propinquity, and property of blood;
And as a stranger to my heart and me,
Hold thee, from this, for ever.* ^note

Kent.
Good, my liege—

Lear.
Peace, Kent!
Come not between the dragon and his wrath.
I lov'd her most, and thought to set my rest
On her kind nurs'ry. Hence, avoid my sight! [To Cordelia.
So be my grave my peace, as here I give
Her father's heart from her. Cornwall and Albany,
With my two daughters' dow'rs digest the third.
Let pride, which she calls plainness, marry her.
I do invest you jointly with my power,
Pre-eminence, and all the large effects
That troop with majesty. Our self, by monthly course,
With reservation of an hundred knights,
By you to be sustained, shall our abode

Make with you by due turns: only retain
The name, and all th' addition to a king:
The sway, revenue, execution,
Beloved sons, be yours; which to confirm,
This cor'net part between you.* ^note [Giving the crown.

Kent.
Royal Lear,
Whom I have ever honour'd as my king,
Lov'd as my father, as my master follow'd,
And, as my patron, thought on in my pray'rs—

Lear.
The bow is bent and drawn, make from the shaft.

Kent.
Let it fall, rather, though the fork invade
The region of my heart. Be Kent unmannerly,
When Lear is mad. Thy youngest daughter—

Lear.
Kent, on thy life, no more.

Kent.
My life I never held, but as a pawn
To wage against thy foes; nor fear to lose it,
Thy safety being the motive.

Lear.
Out of my sight!

Kent.
See better, Lear.

Lear.
Now, by Apollo—

Kent.
Now by Apollo, king,
Thou swear'st thy gods in vain.

Lear.
O vassal! miscreant! [Laying his hand on his sword.

Alb. Corn.
Dear sir, forbear.

Kent.
Kill thy physician, and thy fee bestow
Upon the foul disease. Revoke thy doom,
Or, whilst I can vent clamour from my throat,
I'll tell thee thou dost evil.† ^note

Lear.
Hear me, recreant
Since thou hast sought to make us break our vow,

And come betwixt our sentence and our power;
(Which nor our nature, nor our place, can bear;)
Five days we do allot thee for provision,
And, on the sixth, to turn thy hated back
Upon our kingdom; if, the tenth day following,
Thy banish'd trunk be found in our dominions,
The moment is thy death: away! by Jupiter,
This shall not be revok'd.

Kent.
Fare thee well, king, since thou art resolv'd;
The gods to their dear shelter take thee, maid,
That justly think'st, and hast most rightly said
Thus to new climates my old truth I bear,
Freedom lives hence, and banishment is here. [Exit Kent.

Lear.
Right noble Burgundy,
When she was dear to us, we held her so;
But now her price is fall'n. Sir, there she stands:
Will you with those infirmities she owes,
Unfriended, new-adopted to our hate,
Dowr'd with our curse, and stranger'd with our oath,
Take her, or leave her?

Bur.
Pardon, royal sir;* ^note
Election makes not up on such conditions.

Lear.
Then leave her, sir; for by the power that made me,
I tell you all her wealth.—Away! [Flourish. Exeunt.

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