We have this hour a constant will to publish Burgundy, Great rivals in our youngest daughter's love, Long in our court have made their amorous so journ, And here are to be answer'd. -Tell me, my daugh ters, (Since now we will devest us, both of rule, Interest of territory, cares of state,) Which of you, shall we say, doth love us most? That we our largest bounty may extend Where merit doth most challenge it. -Goneril, Our eldest-born, speak first. Do love you more than words can wield the matter, Dearer than eye-sight, space and liberty; Beyond what can be valued, rich or rare; No less than life, with grace, health, beauty, ho nour: 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 [Aside. silent. Lear. Of all these bounds, even from this line to this, With shadowy forests and with champains rich'd, And prize me at her worth. In my true heart 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. Cor. Then poor Cordelia! [Aside. And yet not so: since, I am sure, my love's Lear. To thee, and thine, hereditary ever, 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; nor more, nor less. Lear. How, how, Cordelia! mend your speech a little, Lest it may mar your fortunes. Good my lord, You have begot me, bred me, lov'd me: I 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 this with thy heart? Cor. Ay, good my 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; From whom we do exist, and cease to be; Here I disclaim all my paternal care, Hold thee, from this, for ever. Scythian, The barbarous 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. Lear. Peace, Kent! Good my liege, 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 [To Cordelia. sight!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 this third: 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 The naine, and all the 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, Lear. The bow is bent and drawn, make from 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 power to flattery bows? To plainness ho nour's bound, When majesty stoops to folly. Reverse thy doom; And, in thy best consideration, check This hideous rashness: answer my life my judg ment, 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, 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. Alb. & Cor. Dear sir, forbear. 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, |