King Lear

to acknowledge hers. King of 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’n into taint: which to believe of her,
Must be a faith that reason without miracle
Could never plant in me.

Cordelia

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, murder, or foulness,
No unchaste action, or dishonour’d step,
That hath deprived 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.

King Lear

Better thou
Hadst not been born than not to have pleased me better.

King of 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 stand
Aloof from the entire point. Will you have her?
She is herself a dowry.

Burgundy

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

King Lear Nothing: I have sworn; I am firm. Burgundy

I am sorry, then, you have so lost a father
That you must lose a husband.

Cordelia

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

King of France

Fairest Cordelia, that art most rich, being poor;
Most choice, forsaken; and most loved, despised!
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 inflamed respect.
Thy dowerless daughter, king, thrown to my chance,
Is queen of us, of ours, and our fair France:
Not all the dukes of waterish Burgundy
Can buy this unprized precious maid of me.
Bid them farewell, Cordelia, though unkind:
Thou losest here, a better where to find.

King 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 benison.
Come, noble Burgundy. Flourish. Exeunt all but King of France, Goneril, Regan, and Cordelia.

King of France Bid farewell to your sisters. Cordelia

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 named. 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.

Regan Prescribe not us our duties. Goneril

Let your study
Be to content your lord, who hath received you
At fortune’s alms. You have obedience scanted,
And well are worth the want that you have wanted.

Cordelia

Time shall unfold what plaited cunning hides:
Who cover faults, at last shame them derides.
Well may you prosper!

King of France Come, my fair Cordelia. Exeunt King of France and Cordelia. Goneril 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. Regan That’s most certain, and with you; next month with us. Goneril You see how full of changes his age is; the observation we have made of it hath not been little: he always loved our sister most; and with what poor judgment he hath now cast her off appears too grossly. Regan ’Tis the infirmity of his age: yet he hath ever but slenderly known himself. Goneril 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-engraffed condition, but therewithal the unruly waywardness that infirm and choleric years bring with them. Regan Such unconstant starts are we like to have from him as this of Kent’s banishment. Goneril There is further compliment of leavetaking between France and him. Pray you, let’s hit together: if our father carry authority with such dispositions as he bears, this last surrender of his will but offend us. Regan We shall further think on’t. Goneril We must do something, and i’ the heat. Exeunt.

Scene II

The Earl of Gloucester’s castle

	Enter Edmund, with a letter.
Edmund	Thou, nature, art my goddess; to thy law My services are bound. Wherefore should I Stand in the plague of custom, and permit The curiosity of nations to deprive me, For that I am some twelve or fourteen moon-shines Lag of a brother? Why bastard? wherefore base? When my dimensions are as well compact, My mind as generous, and my shape as true, As honest madam’s issue? Why brand they us With base? with baseness? bastardy? base, base? Who, in the lusty stealth of nature, take More composition and fierce quality Than doth, within a dull, stale, tired bed, Go to the creating a whole tribe of fops, Got ’tween asleep and wake? Well, then, Legitimate Edgar, I must have your land: Our father’s love is to the bastard Edmund As to the legitimate: fine word⁠—legitimate! Well, my legitimate, if this letter speed, And my invention thrive, Edmund the base Shall top the legitimate. I grow; I prosper: Now, gods, stand up for bastards!
	Enter Gloucester.
Gloucester	Kent banish’d thus! and France in choler parted! And the king gone to-night! subscribed his power! Confined to exhibition! All this done Upon the gad! Edmund, how now! what news?
Edmund	So please your lordship, none. Putting up the letter.
Gloucester	Why so earnestly seek you to put up that letter?
Edmund	I know no news, my lord.
Gloucester	What paper were you reading?
Edmund	Nothing, my lord.
Gloucester	No? What needed, then, that terrible dispatch of it into your pocket? the quality of nothing hath not such need to hide itself. Let’s see: come, if it be nothing, I