Lear.
Mean-time we shall express our darker purpose.
Give me the map there.—Know, that we have divided,
In three, our kingdom; and 'tis our fast intent^{4 note}
To shake all cares and business from our age,
Conferring them on younger strengths^{5 note}, while we

Unburden'd crawl toward 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' several dowers, that future strife
May be prevented now. The princes, France and Burgundy^{6 note},
Great rivals in our youngest daughter's love,
Long in our court have made their amorous sojourn,
And here are to be answer'd.—Tell me, my daughters,
(Since now we will divest us, both of rule,
Interest of territory, cares of state^{7 note})
Which of you, shall we say, doth love us most?
That we our largest bounty may extend
Where nature doth with merit challenge^{8 note}.—Goneril,
Our eldest-born, speak first.

Gon.
Sir, I love you more than words can wield the matter; 11Q1046
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^{9 note};
A love that makes breath poor, and speech unable;
Beyond all manner of so much I love you.

Cor.
What shall Cordelia speak^{1 note}? Love, and be silent. [Aside.

Lear.
Of all these bounds, even from this line to this,
With shadowy forests, and with champains rich'd,

With plenteous rivers^{2 note}
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^{3 note}.

Reg.
I am 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 11Q1047^{4 note},
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 richer than my tongue^{5 note}.

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.—Now, our joy,
Although our last, and least^{6 note}


; to whose young love
The vines of France, and milk of Burgundy,
Strive to be interess'd; what can you say, to draw
A third more opulent than your sisters? Speak.

Cor.
Nothing, my lord.

Lear.
Nothing?

Cor.
Nothing^{7 note}.

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; nor more, nor less.

Lear.
How? how, Cordelia^{8 note}? 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? 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 11Q1048^{9 note}.

Lear.
But goes this with thy heart?

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^{1 note},
By all the operation 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 barbarous Scythian,
Or he that makes his generation messes
To gorge his appetite, shall to my bosom^{2 note}
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 nursery.—Hence, and avoid my sight!— [To Cordelia.
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,
Pre-eminence, 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, we still retain^{3 note}
The name, and all th' additions to a king;
The sway, revenue, execution of the rest,
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,
As my great patron thought on in my prayers, 11Q1049—

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^{4 note}.—What would'st thou do, old man?
Think'st thou, that duty shall have dread to speak,
When power to flattery bows? To plainness honour's bound,
When majesty stoops to folly. Reverse thy doom^{5 note};
And in thy best consideration check
This hideous rashness: answer my life my judgment,
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 thine enemies; nor fear to lose it^{6 note},
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^{7 note}.

Lear.
Now, by Apollo,—

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

Lear.
O, vassal! recreant^{8 note}! [Laying his hand upon his Sword.

Alb. Corn.
Dear sir, forbear.

Kent.
Do;
Kill thy physician, and the fee bestow
Upon the foul disease. Revoke thy gift;

Or, whilst I can vent clamour from my throat,
I'll tell thee, thou dost evil.

Lear.
Hear me, recreant!
On thine allegiance hear me.
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^{9 note},
(Which nor our nature nor our place can bear)
Our potency made good, take thy reward.
Five days we do allot thee^{10 note} for provision
To shield thee from diseases of the world,
And on the sixt to turn thy hated back
Upon our kingdom: if on the tenth day following,
Thy banish'd trunk be found in our dominions, 11Q1050
The moment is thy death. Away! By Jupiter,
This shall not be revok'd.

Kent.
Fare thee well, king: since thus thou wilt appear,
Freedom lives hence^{1 note}, and banishment is here.—
The gods to their dear shelter take thee, maid, [To Cordelia.
That justly think'st, and hast most rightly said^{2 note}!—
And your large speeches may your deeds approve, [To Regan and Goneril.
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.

Flourish. Re-enter Gloster; with France, Burgundy, and Attendants.

Glo.
Here's France and Burgundy, my noble lord^{3 note}.

Lear.
My lord of Burgundy,
We first address toward you, who with this king
Hath rivall'd for our daughter: what, in the least,
Will you require in present dower with her,
Or cease your quest of love?

Bur.
Most royal majesty,
I crave no more than hath your highness offer'd^{4 note},
Nor will you tender less.

Lear.
Right noble Burgundy,
When she was dear to us, we did hold her so;
But now her price is fall'n. Sir, there she stands:
If aught within that little seeming substance,
Or all of it, with our displeasure piec'd,
And nothing more, may fitly like your grace,
She's there, and she is yours.

Bur.
I know no answer.

Lear.
Will you, with those infirmities she owes,
Unfriended, new-adopted to our hate,
Dower'd with our curse^{5 note}, and stranger'd with our oath,
Take her, or leave her?

Bur.
Pardon me, royal sir;
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.—For you, great king, [To France.
I would not from your love make such a stray,
To match you where I hate: therefore, beseech you

T' avert your liking a more worthier way,
Than on a wretch whom nature is asham'd
Almost t' acknowledge hers.

France.
This is most strange,
That she, that even but now was your best object,
The argument of your praise, balm of your age,
Most best, most dearest^{6 note}, should in this trice of time
Commit a thing so monstrous, to dismantle
So many folds of favour. Sure, her offence
Must be of such unnatural degree,
That monsters it, or your fore-vouch'd affection
Fall'n into taint: which to believe of her,
Must be a faith that reason, without miracle,
Could never plant in me.

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^{7 note},
I'll do't before I speak) that you make known
It is no vicious blot, murder, or foulness,
No unchaste action^{8 note}, or dishonour'd step,
That hath depriv'd me of your grace and favour; 11Q1051
But even for want of that for which I am richer,
A still-soliciting eye, and such a tongue
That I am glad I have not, though not to have it,
Hath lost me in your liking.

Lear.
Better thou^{9 note}
Hadst not been born, than not to have pleas'd me better.

France.
Is it but this^{1 note}? a tardiness in nature,

Which often leaves the history unspoke,
That it intends to do?—My lord of Burgundy,
What say you to the lady? Love is not love,
When it is mingled with respects, that stand
Aloof from the entire point. Will you have her?
She is herself a dowry.

Bur.
Royal Lear^{2 note},
Give but that portion which yourself propos'd,
And here I take Cordelia by the hand,
Duchess of Burgundy.

Lear.
Nothing: I have sworn; I am firm^{3 note}.

Bur.
I am sorry, then, you have so lost a father,
That you must lose a husband.

Cor.
Peace be with Burgundy:
Since that respects of fortune^{4 note} are his love,
I shall not be his wife.

France.
Fairest Cordelia, that art most rich, being poor,
Most choice, forsaken, and most lov'd, despis'd,
Thee and thy virtues here I seize upon:
Be it lawful, I take up what's cast away.
Gods, gods! 'tis strange, that from their cold't neglect
My love should kindle to inflam'd respect.—
Thy dowerless daughter, king, thrown to my chance,
Is queen of us, of ours, and our fair France:
Not all the dukes of waterish Burgundy
Shall buy^{5 note} this unpriz'd precious maid of me.—
Bid them farewell, Cordelia, though unkind:
Thou losest here, a better where to find^{6 note}.

Lear.
Thou hast her, France: let her be thine, for we
Have no such daughter, nor shall ever see
That face of hers again:—therefore, be gone
Without our grace, our love, our benison.—
Come, noble Burgundy. [Flourish. Exeunt Lear, Burgundy, Cornwall, Albany, Gloster, and Attendants.

France.
Bid farewell to your sisters.

Cor.
The jewels of our father, with wash'd eyes
Cordelia leaves you: I know you what you are;
And, like a sister, am most loath to call
Your faults as they are nam'd. Love well our father^{7 note}:
To your professed bosoms I commit him;
But yet, alas! stood I within his grace,
I would prefer him to a better place.
So, farewell to you both.

Gon.
Prescribe not us our duty.

Reg.
Let your study
Be to content your lord, who hath receiv'd you
At fortune's alms: you have obedience scanted,
And well are worth the want^{8 note} that you have wanted.

Cor.
Time shall unfold what plighted cunning hides;
Who cover faults, at last shame them derides^{9 note}.
Well may you prosper!

France.
Come, my fair Cordelia. [Exeunt France and Cordelia.

Gon.

Sister, it is not little I have to say of what most nearly appertains to us both. I think, our father will hence to-night.

Reg.

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

Gon.

You see how full of changes his age is; the observation we have made of it hath not been little^{10 note}: he always loved our sister most, and with what poor judgment 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 to receive from his age, not alone the imperfections of long-engrafted condition, but, therewithal, the unruly waywardness that infirm and choleric years bring with them.

Reg.

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

Gon.

There is farther compliment of leave-taking between France and him. Pray you, let us hit together^{1 note}: if our father carry authority with such dispositions as he bears, this last surrender of his will but offend us.

Reg.

We shall farther think of it.

Gon.

We must do something and i' the heat.