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Read Ebook: The Tragedy of King Lear by Shakespeare William
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Ebook has 1156 lines and 29499 words, and 24 pages
KENT. Now by Apollo, King, Thou swear'st thy gods in vain.
LEAR. O vassal! Miscreant!
ALBANY and CORNWALL. Dear sir, forbear!
KENT. 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.
KENT. Fare thee well, King: sith thus thou wilt appear, Freedom lives hence, and banishment is here. The gods to their dear shelter take thee, maid, That justly think'st and hast most rightly said! 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.
Flourish. Re-enter Gloucester, with France, Burgundy and Attendants.
CORDELIA. 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?
BURGUNDY. 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.
BURGUNDY. I know no answer.
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; Election makes not up in such conditions.
LEAR. Then leave her, sir; for, by the power that made me, I tell you all her wealth. 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, who even but now was your best object, The argument of your praise, balm of your age, The best, the 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 into taint; which to believe of her Must be a faith that reason without miracle Should 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 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 to 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 the entire point. Will you have her? She is herself a dowry.
BURGUNDY. Royal King, Give but that portion which yourself propos'd, And here I take Cordelia by the hand, Duchess of Burgundy.
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 fortunes 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! 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 inflam'd 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 unpriz'd precious maid of me. Bid them farewell, Cordelia, though unkind: Thou losest here, a better where to find.
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.
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 nam'd. Love 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 receiv'd you At fortune's alms. You have obedience scanted, And well are worth the want that you have wanted.
CORDELIA. Time shall unfold what plighted cunning hides: Who covers faults, at last shame derides. Well may you prosper.
FRANCE. Come, my fair Cordelia.
GONERIL. Sister, it is not little I have to say of what most nearly appertains to us both. I think our father will hence tonight.
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 judgement 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 from his age to receive not alone the imperfections of long-engrafted 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 leave-taking between France and him. Pray you let us hit together: if our father carry authority with such disposition as he bears, this last surrender of his will but offend us.
REGAN. We shall further think of it.
GONERIL. We must do something, and i' th' heat.
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 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 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 tonight! Prescrib'd his pow'r! Confin'd to exhibition! All this done Upon the gad!--Edmund, how now! What news?
EDMUND. So please your lordship, none.
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 shall not need spectacles.
EDMUND. I beseech you, sir, pardon me. It is a letter from my brother that I have not all o'er-read; and for so much as I have perus'd, I find it not fit for your o'er-looking.
GLOUCESTER. Give me the letter, sir.
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