Kent.

H Though the King had more affected the Duke of Albany than Cornwall.

Glo.

It did always seem so to us: but now in the division of the kingdom, it appears not which of the Dukes he values most.

Kent.

Is not this your son, my lord?

Glo.

His breeding, sir, hath been at my charge.

Kent.

I cannot conceive you.

Glo.

Sir, this young fellow's mother had, indeed, a son for her cradle, ere she had a husband for her bed. Do you smell a fault?

Kent.

I cannot wish the fault undone, the issue of it being so proper.

Glo.

But I have a son, sir, by order of law, some year elder than this, who yet is no dearer in my account. Do you know this nobleman, Edmund?

Edm.

No, my lord.

Glo.
My lord of Kent;—
Remember him hereafter as my honourable friend.

Edm.

My services to your lordship.

Kent.

I must love you, and sue to know you better.

Edm.

Sir, I shall study your deserving.

Glo.

The King is coming.

Lear.

Attend the lords of France and Burgundy, Glo'ster.

Glo.

I shall, my liege.

Lear.
Mean time we shall express our darker purpose:
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. Our son of Cornwall,
And you, our no less loving son of Albany,
We have this hour a constant will to publish
Our daughters sev'ral dow'rs, that future strife
May be prevented now. The princes France and Burgundy,
Great rivals in our younger daughter's love,
Long in our court have made their am'rous sojourn,
And here are to be answer'd. 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. Gonerill,
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 champions 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 mould, as is 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,
Than your dear Highness' love.

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

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 Gonerill.—Now our joy,
Although our last, not least; to whose young love,
The vines of France, and milk of Burgundy,
Strive to be int'ress'd: what say you, to draw
A third, more opulent than your sisters? 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.

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? hap'ly, 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.

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 Cor.
So be my grave my peace, as here I give
Her father's heart from her; call France; who stirs?
Call Burgundy.—Cornwall and Albany,
With my two daughters dowers, digest the third.
Let pride, which she calls plainness, marry her.
I do invest you jointly with my power,

Preheminence, and all the large effects
That troop with majesty. Ourself by monthly course,
With reservation of an hundred knights,
By you to be sustain'd, 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 coronet part between you. [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: with better judgment check
This hideous rashness; with my life I answer,
Thy youngest daughter does not love thee least.

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 thy rank disease; revoke thy doom,
Or whilst I can vent clamour from my throat,
I'll tell thee thou dost evil.

Lear.
Hear me, recreant!
Since thou hast sought to make us break our vow,
To come betwixt our sentence and our power;

(Which nor our nature, nor our place, can bear;)
Take thy reward.
Five days we do allot thee for provision,
To shield thee from disasters of the world;
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.
Why fare thee well, King, since thou art resolv'd.
The Gods protect thee, excellent Cordelia,
That justly think'st, and hast most rightly said!
Now to new climates my old truth I bear;
Freedom lives hence, and banishment is here. [Exit. Enter Glocester, with France and Burgundy, and Attendants.

Glo.
Here's France and Burgundy, my noble lord.

Lear.
Right noble Burgundy,
Who with this king hast rivall'd for our daughter;
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;
Election makes not up on such conditions.

Lear.
Then leave her, Sir; for by the pow'r that made me,
I tell you all her wealth.—For you, great king, [To France.
I would not from your love make such a stray,
To match you where I hate.

France.
This is most strange.

Cor.
I yet beseech your Majesty,
(If, for I want that glib and oily art,
To speak and purpose not; since what I well intend,

I'll do't before I speak,) that you make known.
It is no vicious blot, scandal, or foulness,
No unchaste action, or dishonour'd step,
That hath depriv'd me of your grace and favour:
But ev'n for want of that, for which I'm richer,
A still soliciting eye, and such a tongue,
That I am glad I've not; though, not to have it,
Hath lost me in your liking.

Lear.
Better thou
Hadst not been born, than not have pleas'd me better.

France.
Is it but this? a tardiness in nature,
Which often leaves the history unspoke,
That it intends to do? Fairest Cordelia,
Thee and thy virtues here I seize upon;
Be't lawful, I take up what's cast away.
Thy dow'rless daughter, King, thrown to my chance,
Is queen of us, of ours, and our fair France.

Lear.
Thou hast her, France; let her be thine, for we
Have no such daughter; nor shall ever see
That face of hers again; away!
Come, noble Burgundy. [Flourish. Exeunt Lear and Burgundy.

France.
Bid farewel to your sisters.

Cor.
Ye jewels of our father, with wash'd eyes
Cordelia leaves you: I know what you are,
And, like a sister, am most loth to call
Your faults, as they are nam'd. Love well our father.
To your professing bosoms I commit him;
So farewel to you both.

Reg.
Prescribe not us our duty.

Gon.
Let your study
Be to content your lord, who hath receiv'd you
At fortune's alms.

Cor.
Time shall unfold what plaited cunning hides.
Well may you prosper!

France.
Come, my fair Cordelia. [Exit Fra. and Cor.

Gon.
Sister, it is not little I've to say,
Of what most nearly appertains to us both;
I think, our father will go hence to night.

Reg.
That's certain, and with you; next month with us.

Gon.

You see how full of changes his age is: the observation I have made of it hath not been little; he always loved our sister most, and with what poor judgement he hath now cast her off, appears too grossly.

Reg.

'Tis the infirmity of his age; yet he hath ever but slenderly known himself.

Gon.

The best and soundest of his time hath been but rash; then must we look, from his age, to receive not alone the imperfections of long-ingrafted condition, but therewithal the unruly waywardness, that infirm and cholerick years bring with them.

Reg.

Such inconstant starts are we like to have from him, as this of Kent's banishment.

Gon.

There is further compliment of leave-taking between France and him; pray you, let us hit together: if our father carry authority with such disposition as he bears, this last surrender of his will but offend us.

Reg.

We shall further think of it.

Gon.

We must do something; ay, and suddenly.