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We have this hour a constant will to publish
journ, And here are to be answer’d.-Tell me, my daugh
As much as child e'er lov’d, or father found.
you. Cor. What shall Cordelia do? Love, and be silent.
[Aside. Lear. Of all these bounds, even from this line
to this, With shadowy forests and with champains richd, 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.
Reg. I am made of that self metal as my sister,
Lear. To thee, and thine, hereditary ever,
Cor. Nothing, my lord.
little, Lest it may mar your fortunes. Cor.
Good my lord,
You have begot me, bred me, lov'd me: I
my love with him, half my care, and duty; Sure, I shall never marry
my sisters, To love my father all.
Lear. But goes this with thy heart?
Ay, good my lord.
Good my liege,
I lov'd her most, and thought to set my rest On her kind nursery. - Hence, and avoid my sight!
[To Cordelia. 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 with my power, Pre-eminence, and all the large effects That troop with majesty. Ourself, by monthly
With reservation of an hundred knights,
Revenue, execution of the rest,
be yours: which to confirm, This coronet part between you. [giving the crown. 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 would'st thou do, old
man? Think'st thou, that duty shall have dread to speak, When power to flattery bows? To plainness ho
nour's bound, When majesty stoops to folly. Reverse thy doom; And, in thy best consideration, check This hideous rashness: answer my life my judg
ment, 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 То
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, -
Now, by Apollo, king,
O, vassal! miscreant!
[laying his hand on his sword. Alb. f. Cor. Dear sir, forbear.
Revoke thy gift;
Hear me, recreant!