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

With shadowy forests and with champains1 rich'd, || Her father's heart from her!-Call France ;-Who
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.
Reg. I am 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 square2 of sense possesses;
And find, I am alone felicitate3

In your dear highness' love.
Cor.

Then poor Cordelia! [Aside.
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,4 and pleasure,
Than that confirm'd on Goneril.-Now, our joy,
Although the 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.
Cor. Nothing, my lord.

Lear.

Nothing?

1

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.

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,5 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 this with thy heart?
Cor.

course,

With reservation of a 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 the additions9 to a king;
The sway,

Revenue, execution of the rest,10
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,
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.

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 12 of thine eye.
Lear. Now, by Apollo,-
Kent.

Now, by Apollo, king,

Ay, good my lord. Thou swear'st thy gods in vain.

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;
The mysteries of Hecate, and the night;
By all the operations 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,7 for ever. The barbarous
Scythian,

Or he that makes his generations messes
To bis appetite, shall to my bosom
gorge

Be as well neighbour'd, pitied, and reliev'd,
As thou my sometime daughter.

Kent.

Lear. Peace, Kent!

Lear.

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.

pride,

To come betwixt our sentence and our power
(Which nor our nature nor our place can bear;)
Our potency make good, take thy reward.

Good my liege,-Five days we do allot thee, for provision
To shield thee from diseases of the world;
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.

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!-
[To Cordelia.
So be my grave my peace, as here I give

(1) Open plains. (3) Made happy. (5) Perhaps.

(2) Comprehension.
(4) Value.

(6) Kindred.

(7) From this time. (8) His children.
(9) Titles. (10) All other subjects.
(11) Reverberates. (12) The mark to shoot at.

Kent. Fare thee well, king: since thus thou wilt || A still-soliciting eye, and such a tongue
That I am glad I have not, though not to have it,
Hath lost me in your liking.
Better thou

Lear.

Hadst not been born, than not to have pleas'd me better.

appear, Freedom lives hence, and banishment is here.The gods to their dear shelter take thee, maid, [To Cordelia. That justly think'st, and hast most rightly said!And your large speeches may your deeds approve, France. Is it but this? a tardiness in nature, [To Regan and Goneril. Which often leaves the history unspoke, That good effects may spring from words of love.-That it intends to do?-My lord of Burgundy, Thus Kent, O princes, bids you all adieu; What say you to the lady? Love is not love, He'll shape his old course in a country new. [Ex. When it is mingled with respects, that stand Re-enter Gloster; with France, Burgundy, and She is herself a dowry. Aloof from the entire point. 10 Will you have her?

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?2
Bur.
Most royal majesty,
I crave no more than hath your highness offer'd,"

Nor will you tender less.
Lear.
Right noble Burgundy,
When she was dear to us, we did hold her so;
But now her price is fall'n: Sir, there she stands;
If aught within that little, seeming3 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.

Lear. Sir,

I know no answer.

Will you, with those infirmities she owes,4
Unfriended, new-adopted to our hate,

Bur.
Royal Lear,
Give but that portion which yourself propos'd,
And here I take Cordelia by the hand,
Duchess of Burgundy.

Lear. Nothing: I have sworn; I am firm.
Bur. I am sorry then, you have so lost a father,
That you must lose a husband.

Cor.
Peace be with Burgundy!
Since that respects of fortune are his love,
I shall not be his wife.

France. Fairest Cordelia, thou art most rich,
being poor;

Most choice, forsaken; and most lov'd, despis'd!
Thee and thy virtues here I seize upon :
Be it lawful, I take up what's cast away.
Gods, gods! 'tis strange, that from their cold'st
neglect

My love should kindle to inflam'd respect.—
Thy dowerless daughter, king, thrown to my chance,
Is queen of us, of ours, and our fair France:
Not all the dukes of wat'rish Burgundy
Shall buy this unpriz'd precious maid of me.-

Dower'd with our curse, and stranger'd with our Bid them farewell, Cordelia, though unkind :

oath,

Take her, or leave her?

Bur.
Pardon me, royal sir;
Election makes not ups on such conditions.
Lear. Then leave her, sir; for by the power that
made me,

I tell you all her wealth.-For you, great king,
[To France.
I would not from your love make such a stray,
To match you where I hate; therefore beseech you
To avert your liking a more worthier way,
Than on a wretch whom nature is asham'd
Almost to acknowledge hers.

France.
This is most strange!
That she, that even but now was your best object,
The argument of your praise, balm of your age,
Most best, most dearest, 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 into taint:8 which to believe of her,
Must be a faith, that reason without miracle
Could never plant in me.

Cor.

I yet beseech your majesty
(If for9 I want that glib and oily art,
To speak and purpose not; since what I well
intend,

I'll do't before I speak,) that you make known
It is no vicious blot, murder, or foulness,
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 am richer;

(1) Follow his old mode of life.
(2) Amorous expedition. (3) Specious.

Thou losest here, a better wherell to find.

Lear. Thou hast her, France: let her be thine;
for we

Have no such daughter, nor shall ever see
That face of hers again :-Therefore be gone,
Without our grace, our love, our benizon. 12
Come, noble Burgundy.

[Flourish. Exeunt Lear, Burgundy, Cornwall,
Albany, Gloster, and Attendants.
France. Bid farewell to your sisters.
Cor. The jewels of our father, with wash'd eyes
Cordelia leaves you: I know you what you are;
And, like a sister, am most loath to call
Your faults, as they are nam'd. Use well our father:
To your professed bosoms I commit him :
But yet, alas! stood I within his grace,
I would prefer him to a better place.
So farewell to you both.

Gon. Prescribe not us our duties.
Reg.

Let your study
Be, to content your lord; who hath receiv'd you
At fortune's alms. You have obedience scanted,
And well are worth the want that you have wanted.
Cor. Time shall unfold what plaited13 cunning
hides;

Who cover faults, at last shame them derides.
Well may you prosper!
France.

Come, my fair Cordelia. [Exeunt France and Cordelia. Gon. Sister, it is not a little I have to say, of what most nearly appertains to us both. I think, our father will hence to-night.

Reg. That's most certain, and with you; next month with us.

(8) Reproach or censure.

(9) Because.

(7) Former declaration of.

(11) Place. (12) Blessing. (13) Folded, doubled

(4) Owns, is possessed of. (5) Concludes not. || (10) Who seeks for aught in love but love alone!" (6) Turn.

Gon. The best and soundest of his time hath been but rash; then must we look to receive from his age, not alone the imperfections of long-engrafted condition, but therewithal, the unruly way-makes the world bitter to the best of our times; wardness that infirm and choleric years bring with them.

Glo. To his father, that so tenderly and entirely loves him.-Heaven and earth!-Edmund, seek him out; wind me into him, I pray you: frame the let-business after your own wisdom: I would unstate myself, to be in a due resolution.13

Edm. I will seek him, sir, presently; convey1in him, that with the mischief of your person it the business as I shall find means, and acquaint you would scarcely allay. withal.

Edg. Some villain hath done me wrong.
Edm. That's my fear. I pray you, have a conti-

Edg. Armed, brother?

Edm. Brother, I advise you to the best: go armed; I am no honest man, if there be any good meaning towards you: I have told you what I have seen and heard, but faintly; nothing like the image and horror of it: Pray you, away. Edg. Shall I hear from you anon? Edm. I do serve you in this business.-[Exit Edgar.

Glo. These late eclipses in the sun and moon portend no good to us : Though the wisdom of naturenent? forbearance, till the speed of his rage goes can reason it thus and thus, yet nature finds itself slower; and, as I say, retire with me to my lodging, Scourged by the sequent2 effects: love cools, friend- from whence I will fitly bring you to hear my lord ship falls off, brothers divide: in cities, mutinies; in speak: Pray you, go; there's my key:-If you do countries, discord; in palaces, treason: and the stir abroad, go armed. bond cracked between son and father. This villain of mine comes under the prediction; there's son against father: the king falls from bias of nature; there's father against child. We have seen the best of our time: Machinations, hollowness, treachery, and all ruinous disorders, follow us disquietly to our graves! Find out this villain, Edmund, it shall lose thee nothing; do it carefully:-And the noble and true-hearted Kent banished! his offence, honesty-Strange! strange! [Exit. A credulous father, and a brother noble, Edm. This is the excellent foppery of the world! Whose nature is so far from doing harms, that, when we are sick in fortune (often the surfeit That he suspects none; on whose foolish honesty of our behaviour,) we make guilty of our disasters, My practices ride easy!--I see the business.-the sun, the moon, and the stars: as if we were vil-Let me, if not by birth, have lands by wit: lains by necessity; fools, by heavenly compulsion; All with ine's meet, that I can fashion fit. [Exit. knaves, thieves, and treachers, by spherical pre- SCENE III-A room in the Duke of Albany's dorninance; drunkards, liars, and adulterers, by an enforced obedience of planetary influence; and palace. Enter Goneril and Steward. all that we are evil in, by a divine thrusting on: Gon. Did my father strike my gentleman for An admirable evasion of whoremaster man, to lay chiding of his fool? his goatish disposition to the charge of a star! My father compounded with my mother under the dragon's tail; and my nativity was under ursa major, so that it follows, I am rough and leche-He flashes into one gross crime or other, rous.--Tut; I should have been that I am, had the That sets us all at odds: I'll not endure it: maidenliest star in the firmament twinkled on my His knights grow riotous, and himself upbraids us bastardizing. EdgarOn every trifle:-When he returns from hunting, I will not speak with him; say, I am sick :-If you come slack of former services, You shall do well; the fault of it I'll answer. Stew. He's coming, madam; I hear him.

Enter Edgar.

and pat he comes, like the catastrophe of the old
comedy: My cue is villanous melancholy, with a
sigh like Tom o'Bedlam.-O, these eclipses do por-
tend these divisions! fa, sol, la, mi.5
Edg. How now,
brother Edmund? What serious
contemplation are you in?
Edm. I am thinking, brother, of a prediction I
read this other day, what should follow these
eclipses.

Stew. Ay, madam.

Gon. By day and night! he wrongs me; every

hour

[Horns within.

Gon. Put on what weary negligence you please,
You and your fellows; I'd have it come to question;
If he dislike it, let him to my sister,
Whose mind and mine, I know, in that are one,
Not to be over-rul'd. Idle old man,
That still would manage those authorities,
That he hath given away!-Now, by my life,
Old fools are babes again; and must be us'd
With checks, as flatteries,-when they are seen
abus'd.
Remember what I have said.
Stew.
Very well, madam.
Gon. And let his knights have colder looks among
you;

Edg. Do you busy yourself with that? Edm. I promise you, the effects he writes of succeed unhappily; as of unnaturalness between the child and the parent; death, dearth, dissolutions of ancient amities; divisions in state, menaces and maledictions against king and nobles; needless diffidences, banishment of friends, dissipation of cohorts,6 nuptial breaches, and I know not what. Edg. How long have you been a sectary astro-What grows of it, no matter; advise your fellows so: nomical? I would breed from hence occasions, and I shall, That I may speak :--I'll write straight to my sister, To hold my very course :-Prepare for dinner.

Edm. Come, come; when saw you my father last?

Edg. Why, the night gone by.
Edm. Spake you with him?
Edg. Ay, two hours together.

Edm. Parted you in good terms? Found you no
displeasure in him, by word or countenance?
Edg. None at all.

Edm. Bethink yourself, wherein you may have offended him and at my entreaty, forbear his presence, till some little time hath qualified the heat of his displeasure; which at this instant so rageth

(1) Manage. (2) Following. (3) Traitors.
(4) Great Bear, the constellation so named.
(5) These sounds are unnatural and offensive in

music.

VOL. II.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV-A hall in the same. Enter Kent,
disguised.

Kent. If but as well I other accents borrow,
That can my speech diffuse,8 my good intent
May carry through itself to that full issue
For which I raz'd9 my likeness. Now, banish'd
Kent,

If thou canst serve where thou dost stand condemn'd
(So may it come!) thy master, whom thou lov'st,

(6) For cohorts some editors read courts.
(7) Temperate.

(8) Disorder, disguise.

(9) Effaced.

3 N

Lear. What dost thou profess? What wouldest thou with us?

Kent. I do profess to be no less than I seem; to serve him truly, that will put me in trust; to love him that is honest; to conversel with him that is wise, and says little; to fear judgment; to fight, when I cannot choose; and to eat no fish.

Lear. What art thou?

Kent. A very honest-hearted fellow, and as poor as the king.

Lear. If thou be as poor for a subject, as he is for a king, thou art poor enough. What wouldest

thou?

Kent. Service.

Lear. Who wouldest thou serve?

Kent. You.

Lear. Dost thou know me, fellow?

O, you sir, you sir, come you hither: Who am I, sir?

Stew. My lady's father.

Lear. My lady's father! my lord's knave: you whoreson dog! you slave! you cur!

Stew. I am none of this, my lord; I beseech you, pardon me.

Lear. Do you bandy looks with me, you rascal? [Striking him. Stew. I'll not be struck, my lord. Kent. Nor tripped neither; you base foot-ball player. [Tripping up his heels. Lear. I thank thee, fellow; thou servest me, and I'll love thee.

Kent. Come, sir, arise, away: I'll teach you differences; away, away: If you will measure your

Kent. No, sir; but you have that in your coun- lubber's length again, tarry: but away: go to

tenance, which I would fain call master.

Lear. What's that?

Kent. Authority.

Lear. What services canst thou do?

Kent. I can keep honest counsel, ride, run, mar a curious tale in telling it, and deliver a plain message bluntly that which ordinary men are fit for, I am qualified in; and the best of me is diligence. Lear. How old art thou?

Kent. Not so young, sir, to love a woman for singing; nor so old, to dote on her for any thing: I have years on my back forty-eight.

Lear. Follow me; thou shalt serve me; if I like thee no worse after dinner, I will not part from thee yet.—Dinner, ho, dinner!-Where's my knave? my fool? Go you, and call my fool hither :Enter Steward.

You, you, sirrah, where's my daughter?
Stew. So please you,—

[Exit.

Lear. What says the fellow there? Call the clotpoll back-Where's my fool, ho?-I think the world's asleep.-How now? where's that mongrel? Knight. He says, my lord, your daughter is not well.

Lear. Why came not the slave back to me, when I call'd him?

Knight. Sir, he answer'd me in the roundest

manner, he would not.

Lear. He would not!

Knight. My lord, I know not what the matter is; but, to my judgment, your highness is not entertained with that ceremonious affection as you were wont; there's a great abatement of kindness appears, as well in the general dependants, as in the duke himself also, and your daughter.

Lear. Ha! sayest thou so?

Knight. I beseech you, pardon me, my lord, if I be mistaken; for my duty cannot be silent, when I think your highness is wronged.

Lear. Thou but rememberest me of mine own conception; I have perceived a most faint neglect of late; which I have rather blamed as mine own jealous curiosity,2 than as a very pretences and purpose of unkindness: I will look further into't.

Fool. Let me hire him too;-Here's my coxcomb [Giving Kent his cap. Lear. How now, my pretty knave? how dost thou?

Fool. Sirrah, you were best take my coxcomb.
Kent. Why, fool?

favour: Nay, an thou canst not smile as the wind
Fool. Why? For taking one's part that is out of
sits, thou'lt catch cold shortly: There, take my
coxcomb: Why, this fellow has banished two of
his daughters, and did the third a blessing against
his will; if thou follow him, thou must needs wear

my coxcomb.-How now, nuncle? 'Would I had two coxcombs, and two daughters!

Lear. Why, my boy?

coxcombs myself: There's mine; beg another of Fool. If I gave them all my living,4 I'd keep my thy daughters.

Lear. Take heed, sirrah; the whip.

Fool. Truth's a dog that must to kennel; he
stand by the fire, and stink.
must be whipped out, when Lady, the brach,5 may

Lear. A pestilent gall to me!
Fool. Sirrah, I'll teach thee a speech.
Lear. Do.

Fool. Mark it, nuncle :

Have more than thou showest,
Speak less than thou knowest,
Lend less than thou owest,6
Ride more than thou goest,
Learn more than thou trowest,7
Set less than thou throwest;
Leave thy drink and thy whore,
And keep in-a-door,

And thou shalt have more

Than two tens to a score.

Lear. This is nothing, fool.

Fool. Then 'tis like the breath of an unfee'd