Lear. Right noble Burgundy, When she was dear to us, we did hold her so; And nothing more, may fitly like your grace, Bur. I know no answer. Lear. Sir, Will you, with those infirmities she owes, Dower'd with our curse, and stranger'd with our oath, Bur. Pardon me, royal sir; Election makes not up 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, So many folds of favour! Sure, her offence That monsters it, or your fore-vouch'd affection Cor. I yet beseech your majesty, To speak and purpose not; since what I well intend, That I am glad I have not, though not to have it, Lear. Better thou Hadst not been born, than not to have pleas'd me better. France. Is it but this? a tardiness in nature, That it intends to do?-My lord of Burgundy, Bur. Royal Lear, Give but that portion which yourself propos'd, Duchess of Burgundy. 1 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, that art most rich, being poor; Most choice, forsaken; and most lov'd, despis'd! Be it lawful, I take up what's cast away. Gods, gods! 'tis strange, that from their cold'st ne glect My love should kindle to inflam'd respect. Thy dowerless daughter, king, thrown to my chance, Shall buy this unpriz'd precious maid of me.- Lear. Thou hast her, France: let her be thine; for we Have no such daughter, nor shall ever see [Flourish. Exeunt Lear, Burgundy, Corn- 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. Be, to content your lord; who hath receiv'd you 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. Gon. 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. Reg. 'Tis the infirmity of his age: yet he hath ever but slenderly known himself. 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 waywardness, that infirm and choleric years bring with them. Reg. Such unconstant starts are we like to have from him, as this of Kent's banishment. Gon. There is further compliment of leave-taking between France and him. Pray you, let us hit together: If our father carry authority with such dispositions as he bears, this last surrender of his will but offend us. Reg. We shall further think of it. Gon. We must do something, and i̇'the heat. [Exeunt. SCENE II.-A hall in the Earl of Gloster's Castle. Enter EDMUND, with a letter. Edm. 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 moonshines Lag of a brother? Why bastard? wherefore base? When my dimensions are as well compact, My mind as generous, and my shape as true, Enter Gloster. Glo. Kent banish'd thus! and France in choler parted! And the king gone to-night! subscrib'd his power! Confin'd to exhibition! All this done Upon the gad!-Edmund! How now? what news? Edm. So please your lordship, none. [Putting up the letter. Glo. Why so earnestly seek you to put up that letter? Edm. I know no news, my lord. Glo. What paper were you reading? Glo. No? What needed then that terrible despatch 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 shall not need spectacles. Edm. I beseech you, sir, pardon me: it is a letter from my brother, that I have not all o'er-read; for so much as I have perused, I find it not fit for your over-looking. |