King Lear
ACT I SCENE I | King Lear’s palace. | |
Enter KENT, GLOUCESTER, and EDMUND. | ||
KENT | I thought the king had more affected the Duke of | |
Albany than Cornwall. | ||
GLOUCESTER | It did always seem so to us: but now, in the | |
division of the kingdom, it appears not which of | 5 | |
the dukes he values most; for equalities are so | ||
weighed, that curiosity in neither can make choice | ||
of either’s moiety. | ||
KENT | Is not this your son, my lord? | |
GLOUCESTER | His breeding, sir, hath been at my charge: I have | 10 |
so often blushed to acknowledge him, that now I am | ||
brazed to it. | ||
KENT | I cannot conceive you. | |
GLOUCESTER | Sir, this young fellow’s mother could: whereupon | |
she grew round-wombed, and had, indeed, sir, a son | 15 | |
for her cradle ere she had a husband for her bed. | ||
Do you smell a fault? | ||
KENT | I cannot wish the fault undone, the issue of it | |
being so proper. | ||
GLOUCESTER | But I have, sir, a son by order of law, some year | 20 |
elder than this, who yet is no dearer in my account: | ||
though this knave came something saucily into the | ||
world before he was sent for, yet was his mother | ||
fair; there was good sport at his making, and the | ||
whoreson must be acknowledged. Do you know this | 25 | |
noble gentleman, Edmund? | ||
EDMUND | No, my lord. | |
GLOUCESTER | My lord of Kent: remember him hereafter as my | |
honourable friend. | ||
EDMUND | My services to your lordship. | 30 |
KENT | I must love you, and sue to know you better. | |
EDMUND | Sir, I shall study deserving. | |
GLOUCESTER | He hath been out nine years, and away he shall | |
again. The king is coming. | ||
Sennet. Enter KING LEAR, CORNWALL, ALBANY, GONERIL, REGAN, CORDELIA, and Attendants. | ||
KING LEAR | Attend the lords of France and Burgundy, Gloucester. | 35 |
GLOUCESTER | I shall, my liege. | |
Exeunt GLOUCESTER and EDMUND. | ||
KING LEAR | Meantime we shall express our darker purpose. | |
Give me the map there. Know that we have divided | ||
In three our kingdom: and ’tis our fast intent | ||
To shake all cares and business from our age; | 40 | |
Conferring them on younger strengths, while we | ||
Unburthen’d crawl toward death. Our son of Cornwall, | ||
And you, our no less loving son of Albany, | ||
We have this hour a constant will to publish | ||
Our daughters’ several dowers, that future strife | 45 | |
May be prevented now. The princes, France and Burgundy, | ||
Great rivals in our youngest daughter’s love, | ||
Long in our court have made their amorous sojourn, | ||
And here are to be answer’d. Tell me, my daughters,– | ||
Since now we will divest us both of rule, | 50 | |
Interest of territory, cares of state,– | ||
Which of you shall we say doth love us most? | ||
That we our largest bounty may extend | ||
Where nature doth with merit challenge. Goneril, | ||
Our eldest-born, speak first. | 55 | |
GONERIL | Sir, I love you more than words can wield the matter; | |
Dearer than eye-sight, space, and liberty; | ||
Beyond what can be valued, rich or rare; | ||
No less than life, with grace, health, beauty, honour; | ||
As much as child e’er loved, or father found; | 60 | |
A love that makes breath poor, and speech unable; | ||
Beyond all manner of so much I love you. | ||
CORDELIA | Aside | |
Love, and be silent. | ||
LEAR | Of all these bounds, even from this line to this, | |
With shadowy forests and with champains rich’d, | 65 | |
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. | ||
REGAN | Sir, I am made | 70 |
Of the self-same metal that my sister is, | ||
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, | 75 | |
Which the most precious square of sense possesses; | ||
And find I am alone felicitate | ||
In your dear highness’ love. | ||
CORDELIA | Aside | |
And yet not so; since, I am sure, my love’s | ||
More richer than my tongue. | 80 | |
KING LEAR | To thee and thine hereditary ever | |
Remain this ample third of our fair kingdom; | ||
No less in space, validity, and pleasure, | ||
Than that conferr’d on Goneril. Now, our joy, | ||
Although the last, not least; to whose young love | 85 | |
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. | ||
CORDELIA | Nothing, my lord. | |
KING LEAR | Nothing! | 90 |
CORDELIA | Nothing. | |
KING LEAR | Nothing will come of nothing: speak again. | |
CORDELIA | Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave | |
My heart into my mouth: I love your majesty | ||
According to my bond; nor more nor less. | 95 | |
KING LEAR | How, how, Cordelia! mend your speech a little, | |
Lest it may mar your fortunes. | ||
CORDELIA | Good my lord, | |
You have begot me, bred me, loved me: I | ||
Return those duties back as are right fit, | 100 | |
Obey you, love you, and most honour you. | ||
Why have my sisters husbands, if they say | ||
They love you all? Haply, when I shall wed, | ||
That lord whose hand must take my plight shall carry | ||
Half my love with him, half my care and duty: | 105 | |
Sure, I shall never marry like my sisters, | ||
To love my father all. | ||
KING LEAR | But goes thy heart with this? | |
CORDELIA | Ay, good my lord. | |
KING LEAR | So young, and so untender? | 110 |
CORDELIA | So young, my lord, and true. | |
KING 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 operation of the orbs | 115 | |
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, for ever. The barbarous Scythian, | 120 | |
Or he that makes his generation messes | ||
To gorge his appetite, shall to my bosom | ||
Be as well neighbour’d, pitied, and relieved, | ||
As thou my sometime daughter. | ||
KENT | Good my liege,– | 125 |
KING LEAR | Peace, Kent! | |
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 | 130 | |
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 with my power, | 135 | |
Pre-eminence, 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 | 140 | |
The name, and all the additions to a king; | ||
The sway, revenue, execution of the rest, | ||
Beloved sons, be yours: which to confirm, | ||
This coronet part betwixt you. | ||
Giving the crown | ||
KENT | Royal Lear, | 145 |
Whom I have ever honour’d as my king, | ||
Loved as my father, as my master follow’d, | ||
As my great patron thought on in my prayers,– | ||
KING LEAR | The bow is bent and drawn, make from the shaft. | |
KENT | Let it fall rather, though the fork invade | 150 |
The region of my heart: be Kent unmannerly, | ||
When Lear is mad. What wilt 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; | 155 | |
And, in thy best consideration, cheque | ||
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. | 160 | |
KING LEAR | Kent, on thy life, no more. | |
KENT | My life I never held but as a pawn | |
To wage against thy enemies; nor fear to lose it, | ||
Thy safety being the motive. | ||
KING LEAR | Out of my sight! | 165 |
KENT | See better, Lear; and let me still remain | |
The true blank of thine eye. | ||
KING LEAR | Now, by Apollo,– | |
KENT | Now, by Apollo, king, | |
Thou swear’st thy gods in vain. | 170 | |
KING LEAR | O, vassal! miscreant! | |
Laying his hand on his sword | ||
ALBANY, CORNWALL | Dear sir, forbear. | |
KENT | Do: | |
Kill thy physician, and the fee bestow | ||
Upon thy foul disease. Revoke thy doom; | ||
Or, whilst I can vent clamour from my throat, | 175 | |
I’ll tell thee thou dost evil. | ||
KING 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 | 180 | |
To come between our sentence and our power, | ||
Which nor our nature nor our place can bear, | ||
Our potency made good, take thy reward. | ||
Five days we do allot thee, for provision | ||
To shield thee from diseases of the world; | 185 | |
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 revoked. | 190 | |
KENT | Fare thee well, king: sith 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, | 195 | |
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. Re-enter GLOUCESTER, with KING OF FRANCE, BURGUNDY, and Attendants. | ||
GLOUCESTER | Here’s France and Burgundy, my noble lord. | |
KING LEAR | My lord of Burgundy. | 200 |
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? | ||
BURGUNDY | Most royal majesty, | 205 |
I crave no more than what your highness offer’d, | ||
Nor will you tender less. | ||
KING 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: | 210 | |
If aught within that little seeming substance, | ||
Or all of it, with our displeasure pieced, | ||
And nothing more, may fitly like your grace, | ||
She’s there, and she is yours. | ||
BURGUNDY | I know no answer. | 215 |
KING LEAR | Will you, with those infirmities she owes, | |
Unfriended, new-adopted to our hate, | ||
Dower’d with our curse, and stranger’d with our oath, | ||
Take her, or leave her? | ||
BURGUNDY | Pardon me, royal sir; | 220 |
Election makes not up on such conditions. | ||
KING LEAR | Then leave her, sir; for, by the power that made me, | |
I tell you all her wealth. | ||
To KING OF FRANCE. | ||
For you, great king, | ||
I would not from your love make such a stray, | 225 | |
To match you where I hate; therefore beseech you | ||
To avert your liking a more worthier way | ||
Than on a wretch whom nature is ashamed | ||
Almost to acknowledge hers. | ||
KING OF FRANCE | This is most strange, | 230 |
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 | 235 | |
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. | 240 | |
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, | 245 | |
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 | 250 | |
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 | 255 | |
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. | 260 | |
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. | 265 |
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. | 270 | |
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 | 275 | |
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. | 280 | |
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 | 285 | |
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; | 290 | |
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. | 295 | |
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, | 300 | |
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. | 305 |
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 | 310 |
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 | 315 |
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 | 320 | |
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 | 325 | |
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. | 330 |
Exeunt |
King Lear, Act 1, Scene 2