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KING

LE AR.

A

TRAGEDY.

Printed in the YEAR 1709.

L

EAR, King of Britain.
King of France.

Duke of Burgundy.

Duke of Cornwall.

Duke of Albany.

Earl of Glofter.

Earl of Kent.

Edgar, Son to Glofter.

Edmund, Baftard Son to Glofter.
Curan, a Courtier.

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Knights attending on the King, Officers, Meffengers, Soldiers, and Attendants.

SCENE lyes in Britain.

KING

༡༠༧༥༠༦༡༥༠

༧༧/༥•༅/༥༠༧/༠༅༥༠

KING LEAR.

ACT I. SCENE I.

SCENE A Palace.

Enter Kent, Glofter, and Edmund the Baftard.

KENT.

Thought the King had more affected the
Duke of Albany, than Cornwall.

Glo. It did always feem fo to us: But now in the Divifion of the Kingdom, it appears not which of the Dukes he values moft; for qualities are fo weigh'd, that curiosity in neither, can make choice of either's moiety. Kent. Is not this your Son, my Lord?

Glo. His breeding, Sir, hath been at my charge. I have fo often blush'd to acknowledge him, that now I am braz'd to't.

Kent. I cannot conceive you.

Glo. Sir, this young Fellow's Mother could; whereupon fhe grew round womb'd, and had indeed, Sir, a Son for her Cradle, e'er fhe had a Husband for her Bed. Do you Smell a Fault?

Kent. I cannot wish the fault undone, the Iffue of it being fo proper.

Glo.

Glo. But I have a Son, Sir, by order of Law, fome Year elder than this; who, yet is no dearer in my Account, though this Knave came fomewhat fawcily to the World before he was fent for: Yet was his Mother fair, there was good fport at his making, and the whorfon must be acknowledged. Do you know this Nobleman, Edmund? Baft. No, my Lord.

Glo. My Lord of Kent;

Remember him hereafter, as my honourable Friend.
Baft. My fervices to your Lordship.

Kent. I must love you, and fue to know you better.
Baft. Sir, I fhall ftudy deferving.

Glo. He hath been out nine Years, and away he fhall a gain. The King is coming.

Enter King Lear, Cornwall, Albany, Gonerill, Regan, Cordelia, and Attendants.

Laer. Attend the Lords of France and Burgundy, Glöfter.
Glo. I fhall, my Lord.

Lear. Mean time we fhall exprefs our darker purpose.
Give me the Map here. Know, that we have divided
Into three, our Kingdom; and 'tis our faft intent,
To shake all cares and business from our Age,
Confering them on younger ftrengths, while we
Unburthen'd crawl toward Death.

Exit.

Our Son of Cornwall,

And you our no lefs loving Son of Albaný,

We have this hour a conftant will to publish

Our Daughters feveral Dowers, that future ftrife

May be prevented now. The Princes, France and Burgundy,
Great Rivals in our younger Daughter's Love,

Long in our Court, have made their amorous fojourn,
And here are to be anfwer'd. Tell me, my Daughters,
Since now we will diveft us both of Rule,

Intereft of Terrority, Cares of State,

Which of you shall we fay doth love us moft;

That we, our largest bounty may extend

Where Nature doth with merit challenge. Gonerill;

Our eldest born, speak first.

Gon. Sir, I love you more than word can wield the matter, Dearer than Eye-fight, fpace, and liberty,

Beyond what can be valued, rich or rare,

No lefs than Life, with Grace, Health, Beauty, Honour:

As

As much as Child e'er lov'd, or Father found.
A love that makes breath poor, and speech unable,
Beyond all manner of fo much I love you.

Cor. What fhall Cordelia fpeak? Love, and be filent.
Lear. Of all thefe bounds, even from this Line, to this,
With fhadowy Forefts, and with Champions rich'd
With plenteous Rivers, and wide-skirted Meads,
We make thee Lady. To thine and Albany's Iffues
Be this perpetual. What fays our fecond Daughter,
Our deareft Regan, Wife of Cornwall?

Reg. I am made of that felf-metal as my Sister,
And prize me at her worth. In my true Heart,
I find the names my very deed of love:
Only the comes too fhort, that I profess
My felf an Enemy to all other Joys,

Which the most precious fquare of fenfe profeffes,
And find I am alone felicitate

In your dear Highness love.

Cor. Then, poor Cordelia!

And yet not fo, fince I am fure my Love's
More ponderous than my Tongue.

Laer. To thee, and thine, hereditary ever,
Remain this ample third of our fair Kingdom,
No lefs in fpace, validity, and pleasure,
Than that confer'd on Gonerill. Now our Joy,
Although our laft and leaft; to whofe young love,
The Vines of France, and Milk of Burgundy,
Strive to be intereft: What can you fay, to draw
A third, more opulent than your Sifters? fpeak.
Cor. Nothing, my Lord.

Lear. Nothing?

Cor. Nothing.

Lear. Nothing will come of nothing, speak again.
Cord. 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, Left 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, love you, and most honour you.

Obey you,

Why

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