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. [aside] What shall Cordelia do? Love, and be
silent. (3)

Lear. Of all these bounds, even from this line to this, With shadowy forests and with champains 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 to Cornwall? Speak. (4) Reg. Sir,(5)

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
Myself an enemy to all other joys,

Which the most precious square of sense possesses;(6)
And find I am alone felicitate

In your dear highness' love.

Cor. [aside]

Then poor Cordelia!

And yet not so; since, I am sure, my love's
More richer 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 conferr'd on Goneril.-Now, our joy,
Although our last, not least; 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. (7)
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; nor more nor less.

Lear. How, how, Cordelia! mend your speech a little, Lest it 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.

Lear. But goes thy heart with this?
Cor.

Lear. So young, and so untender?

Cor. So young, my lord, and true.

Ay, good my lord.(8)

Lear. Let it be so,-thy truth, then, be thy dower: For, by the sacred radiance of the sun,

The mysteries(9) of Hecate, and the night;

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

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 sight!—(10) 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:

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
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.

Kent.

[Giving the crown.

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,

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 wouldst 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 falls to folly. Reverse thy doom;(11)

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,
Thy safety being the motive.

Lear.

Out of my sight!
and let me still remain

Kent. See better, Lear;
The true blank of thine eye.
Lear. Now, by Apollo,—
Kent.
Thou swear'st thy gods in vain.
Lear.

Now, by Apollo, king,

O, vassal! miscreant! [Laying his hand on 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,

On thine allegiance, hear me !

recreant!

Since thou hast sought to make us break our vow,—
Which we durst never yet,-and with strain'd pride
To come between our sentence and our power,-(12)
Which nor our nature nor our place can bear,-
Our potency made good, take thy reward.
Five days we do allot thee, for provision
To shield thee from diseases of the world;(13)
And, on the sixth, to turn thy hated back
Upon our kingdom: if, on 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.

[To Cordelia] The gods to their dear shelter take thee, maid, That justly think'st, and hast most rightly said!—

[To Regan and Goneril] 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.

Flourish. Re-enter GLOSTER, with FRANCE, BURGUNDY, and

Attendants.

Glo. Here's France and Burgundy, my noble lord.
Lear. My Lord of Burgundy,

We first address towards 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,

Nor will you tender less.

Lear.
When she was dear to us,
But now her price is fall'n.

Right noble Burgundy,
we did hold her so;
Sir, there she stands:

If aught within that little seeming(14) 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, 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.-[To France] For you, great king,
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, who even but now was your best object,(15)
The argument of your praise, balm of your age,
Most best, most dear'st,(16) 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

Should 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,(17)

I'll do't before I speak,-that you make known

It is no vicious blot, murder, or foulness, (18)

No unchaste action, or dishonour'd step,

That hath depriv'd me of your grace and favour;
But even for want of that for which I'm richer,-
A still-soliciting eye, and such a tongue
As I am glad I have not, though not to have it