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 square of sense possesses, 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 conferred 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 interessed; what can you say, to draw A third more opulent than your sisters? Speak. 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 you may mar your fortunes. Cor. Good my lord You have begot me, bred me, loved me: I Obey you, love you, and most honour you. 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. Ay, my good 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, The mysteries of Hecate and the night, From whom we do exist and cease to be, 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 Be as well neighboured, pitied, and relieved, Kent. Lear. Peace, Kent! Good my liege, Come not between the dragon and his wrath. I loved her most, and thought to set my rest On her kind nursery.-Hence, and avoid my 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 the third : That troop with majesty. Ourself, by monthly course, With reservation of an hundred knights, By you to be sustained, shall our abode Make with you by due turn. Only we shall retain The name and all the additions to a king; Kent. Royal Lear, Whom I have ever honoured as my king, Loved as my father, as my master followed, 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 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. Lear. Now, by Apollo, Kill thy physician, and the fee bestow Upon the foul disease. Revoke thy gift; Or, whilst I can vent clamour from my throat, Lear. On thine allegiance, hear me ! Hear me, recreant ! |