SCENE I. A Room of State in King Lear's Palace. Enter KENT, GLOSTER, and EDMUND. Kent. THOUGHT the King had more affected the Duke of Albany, than Cornwall. Glo. It did always seem so to us: but now, in the division of the kingdom, it appears not which of the Dukes he values most; for equalities are so 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 so often blush'd to acknowledge him, that now I am brazed to it. Kent. I cannot conceive you. Glo. Sir, this young fellow's mother could: whereupon she grew round-womb'd; and had, indeed, sir, a son for her cradle, ere she had a husband for her bed. Do you smell a fault? Kent. I cannot wish the fault undone, the issue of it being so proper. Glo. But I have a son, sir, by order of law, some year elder than this, who yet is no dearer in my account: though this knave came something saucily into the world before he was sent for, yet was his mother fair; there was good sport at his making, and the whoreson must be acknowledged.-Do you know this noble gentleman, Edmund ? Edm. No, my lord. Glo. My Lord of Kent. as my honourable friend. Remember him hereafter Edm. My services to your lordship. Kent. I must love you, and sue to know you better. Edm. Sir, I shall study deserving. Glo. He hath been out nine years, and away he shall again. The King is coming. [Trumpets sound within. Enter LEAR, CORNWALL, ALBANY, GONERIL, REGAN, CORDELIA, and Attendants. Lear. Attend the Lords of France and Burgundy, Gloster. Glo. I shall, my liege. [Exeunt GLOSTER and EDMUND. Lear. Mean time we shall express our darker pur pose. Give me the map there.-Know, that we have divided, In three, our kingdom; and 'tis our fast intent And you, our no less loving son of Albany, Great rivals in our youngest daughter's love, Which of you, shall we say, doth love us most, Where Nature doth with Merit challenge.-Goneril, Our eldest-born, speak first. Gon. Sir, I 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, honour; As much as child e'er loved, 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 silent. [Aside. Lear. Of all these bounds, even from this line to this, With shadowy forests and with champains rich'd, Reg. I am made of that self metal as my sister, Which the most spacious square of sense possesses; In your dear Highness' love. Čor. -Then poor Cordelia! And yet not so; since, I am sure, my love's More richer than my tongue. [Aside. 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. Lear. Cor. Nothing? Nothing. Lear. Nothing can come of nothing; speak again. My heart into my mouth. I love your Majesty Lear. How, how, Cordelia! 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 is 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. [To love my father all.] Lear. But goes thy heart with this? Ay, my good lord. Lear. So young, and so untender? So young, my lord, and true. Lear. Let it be so.-Thy truth then be thy dow'r; For, by the sacred radiance of the sun, The mysteries of Hecate, and the night; By all the operation of the orbs, From whom we do exist, and cease to be; 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 relieved, As thou my sometime daughter. Lear. Peace, Kent! Good my liege... Come not between the dragon and his wrath. So be my grave my peace, as here I give Call Burgundy.-Cornwall, and Albany, That troop with Majesty. Ourself, by monthly course, By you to be sustain'd, shall our abode Make with you by due turns. Only we still retain This coronet part between you. [Giving the Crown. 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 Pow'r to flatt'ry bows? To plainness Honour's bound When Majesty stoops to folly. Reverse thy doom; And, in thy best consideration, check This hideous rashness: answer my life my judgement, Thy youngest daughter does not love thee least; |