King Lear - The Original Classic Edition. Shakespeare William

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. Good my liege-Lear. Peace, Kent!

       3

       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!- 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 in my power, Preeminence, 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 betwixt you. 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. 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; 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!

       Kent. See better, Lear, and let me still remain

       The true blank of thine eye. Lear. Now by Apollo-

       Kent. Now by Apollo, King, Thou swear'st thy gods in vain.

       Lear. O vassal! miscreant!

       [Lays 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, recreant!

       On thine allegiance, hear me!

       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,- Which nor our nature nor our place can bear,-

       4

       Our potency made good, take thy reward. 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.

       Kent. Fare thee well, King. Since 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. Enter Gloucester, with France and Burgundy; Attendants.

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

       We first address toward 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. 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 seeming 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,

       Dow'r'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 pow'r 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 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

       5

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

       It is no vicious blot, murther, or foulness, No unchaste action or dishonoured step,

       That hath depriv'd me of your grace and favour; But even for want of that for which I am richer-A still-soliciting eye, and such a tongue

       As I am glad I have not, though not to have it

       Hath lost me in your liking. Lear. Better thou

       Hadst not been born than not t' have pleas'd me better. France. Is it but this-a tardiness in nature

       Which often leaves the history unspoke

       That it intends to do? My Lord of Burgundy, What say you to the lady? Love's not love When it is mingled with regards that stands

       Aloof from th' entire point. Will you have her? She is herself a dowry.

       Bur. Royal Lear,

       Give but that portion which yourself propos'd, And here I take Cordelia by the hand,