Lear.
Attend the lords of France and Burgundy.

Glo.
I shall, my Liege. [Exit.

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 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,

Since now we will divest us, both of rule,
Int'rest of territory, cares of state;
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 valued 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 ^{a note} 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-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
My self an enemy to all other joys,
Which the most precious square of sense ^{b note} possesses,
And find I am alone felicitate
In 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 confer'd on Gonerill.—Now our joy,
Although our last, ^{c note}not least; to whose young love,
The vines of France, and milk of Burgundy,
Strive to be int'rest: what say you to draw
A third, more opulent than your sisters? speak.

Cor.
Nothing, my lord.

Lear.
Nothing?

Cor.
Nothing.

Lear.
Nothing will 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 have begot me, 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,
^{d note}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 dowre:
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. The barb'rous Scythian,
Or he that makes his generation, messes
To gorge his appetite; shall to my bosom
Be as well neighbour'd, pitied, and reliev'd,
As thou, my sometime daughter.

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 dowres, 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. Our self 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 Cor'onet part between you. [Giving the crown.

Kent.
Royal Lear,
Whom I have ever honour'd as a 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: what would'st thou do, old man?
Think'st thou that duty shall have dread to speak
When pow'r to flatt'ry bows? to plainness Honour
Is bound, when Majesty to folly falls.
Reserve thy State; with better judgment check
This hideous rashness; with my life I answer,
Thy youngest daughter does not love thee least,
Nor are those empty-hearted, whose low sound
Reverbs no hollowness.

Lear.
Kent, on thy life no more.

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

Lear.
Out of my sight!

Kent.
See better, Lear, and let me still remain
The true blank of thine eye.

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.

Lear.
Hear me recreant!
^{f note}Since thou hast sought to make us break our vow,
Which we durst never yet; and with strain'd pride,
To come betwixt our sentence and our power,

Which nor our nature nor our place can bear,
Our potency make good, 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.
Fare thee well, King, sith thus thou wilt appear,
Freedom lives hence, and banishment is here;
The gods to their dear shelter take thee, maid,
That justly think'st, and hast most rightly said;
And your large speeches may your deeds approve,
That good effects may spring from words of love:
Thus Kent, O Princes, bids you all adieu,
He'll shape his old course in a country new. [Exit.

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