Kent. Good my Liege Lear. Peace, Kent! Come not between the dragon and his wrath, So be my grave my peace, as here I give [To Cor. Her father's heart from her; Call France; who ftirs? With my two daughters' dowers digeft the third. That troop with Majefty. Our felf by monthly course, This Cor'onet part between you. [Giving the Crown. Whom I have ever honour'd as my King, Lov'd as my father, as my mafter follow'd, And as my patron thought on in my pray'rs Lear. The bow is bent and drawn, make from the fhaft. The fway, revenue, execution, Beloved fons, be yours.] The old Books read the Lines thus. Beloved fons be yours. This is evidently corrupt, and the Editors not knowing what to make of-of the reft, left it out. The true Reading, without doubt, was, The fway, revenue, execution of th'Heft, Heft, is an old Word for regal Command: fo that the Senfe of the Kent. Let it fall rather, though the fork invade Referve thy State; with better judgment check Lear. Kent, on thy life no more. Kent. My life I never held but as a pawn To wage againft thy foes; nor fear to lofe it, Thy fafety being the motive. Lear. Out of my fight! Kent. See better, Lear, and let me ftill remain The true blank of thine Lear. Now by Apollo eye. Kent. Now by Apollo, King, Thou fwear'ft thy gods in vain. [Laying his hand on his fword. Alb. Corn. Dear Sir, forbear. Kent. Kill thy phyfician, and thy fee bestow Lear. Hear me, recreant! Since thou haft fought to make us break our vow, Thy Thy banish'd trunk be found in our dominions, This fhall not be revok'd. [appear, Kent. Fare thee well, King; fith thus thou wilt Freedom lives hence, and banishment is here; The gods to their dear shelter take thee, maid, That juftly think'st, and hast most rightly faid; And your large fpeeches may your deeds approve, That good effects may fpring from words of love: Thus Kent, O Princes, bids you all adieu, He'll shape his old courfe in a country new. [Exit. SCENE III. Enter Glo'fter, with France and Burgundy, and Attendants. Glo. HERE's France and Burgundy, my noble lord. Lear. My lord of Burgundy, We first address tow'rd you, who with this King Bur. Moft royal Majesty, I crave no more than what your Highness offer'd, Lear. Right noble Burgundy, When she was dear to us, we held her fo; And nothing more, may fitly like your Grace, Bur. I know no answer. you Lear. Will with those infirmities fhe owes, Unfriended, new-adopted to our hate, Dower'd with our curfe, and ftranger'd with our oath, Take her, or leave her? Bur. Pardon, royal Sir; Election makes not up on fuch 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. Than on a wretch, whom nature is afham'd France. This is moft ftrange! best object, That fhe, who ev'n but now was your That monfters it; or your fore-vouch'd affection Cor. I yet befeech your Majefty, (If, for I want that glib and oily art; To speak and purpofe not; fince what I well intend That hath depriv'd ine of your grace and favour: That I am glad I've not; though, not to have it, Lear. Better thou Hadft not been born, than not have pleas'd me better. Aloof Aloof from th' intire point. Say, will you have her? She is herself a dowry. Bur. Royal King, Give but that portion which yourself propos'd, Dutchefs of Burgundy. Lear. Nothing: -I've fworn. Bur. I'm forry then, you have so lost a father, That you muft lofe a husband: Cor. Peace be with Burgundy, Since that respects of fortune are his love, France. Fairest Cordelia, that art moft rich, being poor, Moft choice, forfaken: and moft lov'd, defpis'd! Be't lawful, I take up what's caft away. Gods, Gods! 'tis ftrange, that from their cold'ft neg. lect My love fhould kindle to enflam'd refpect. Thy dow'rlefs daughter, King, thrown to my chance, Can buy this unpriz'd. precious, maid of me. Thou lofeft here, a better where to find. Lear. Thou haft her, France; let her be thine, for we Have no fuch daughter; nor fhall ever fee That face of hers again; therefore be gone Without our grace, our love, our benizon : Come, noble Burgundy. France. B [Flourish. Exeunt Lear and Burgundy. SCENE ID farewel to your IV. fifters. Cor. Ye jewels of our father, with wafh'd eyes Cordelia |