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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.

Bur.

Lear. Sir,

I know no answer.

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?

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 sbe, that even but now was your best object, The argument of your praise, balm of your age, ost 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 into taint: which to believe of her,
Must be a faith, that reason, without miracle
Could never plant in me.

Cor.

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:

VOL. VIII.

C

But even for want of that, for which I am richer; A still-soliciting eye, and such a tongue

That 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 is not love, When it is mingled with respects, that stand Aloof from the entire point. Will you have her? She is herself a dowry.

Bur. Royal Lear, 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. 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.

[being poor!

France. Fairest Cordelia, that art most rich, 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 wat'rish Burgundy
Shall 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 benizon. Come, noble Burgundy.

[Flourish. Exeunt LEAR, BUR. CORN. ALE. GLO. and Attendants.

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. Reg. 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.

Cor. Time shall unfold what plaited cunning

hides;

Who cover faults, at last shame them derides. 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 bath 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 cholerick 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 leavetaking between France and him. 'Pray you, let us hit together: If our father carry authority

with such dispositions as he bears, render of his will but offend us.

Reg. We shall further think of it.

this last sur

Gon. We must do something, and i'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,
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 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?
Edm. Nothing, my lord.

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'erread; for so much as I have perused, I find it not fit for your over-looking.

Glo. Give me the letter, sir.

Edm. I shall offend, either to detain or give it. The contents, as in part I understand them, are to blame.

Glo. Let's see, let's see.

Edm. I hope, for my brother's justification, he wrote this but as an essay or taste of my virtue. Glo. [Reads.] This policy, and reverence of age, makes the world bitter to the best of our times; keeps our fortunes from us, till our oldness cannot relish them. I begin to find an idle and fond bondage in the oppression of aged tyranny; who sways, not as it hath power, but as it is suffered. Come to me, that of this 1 may speak more. If our father would sleep till I waked him, you should enjoy half his revenue for ever, and live the beloved of your brother, Edgar! -Humph-Conspiracy!-Sleep till I waked him -you should enjoy half his revenue,-My son Edgar!-Had he a hand to write this? a heart and brain to breed it in ?-When came this to you? Who brought it?

Edm. It was not brought me, my lord, there's the cunning of it; I found it thrown in at the casement of my closet.

Glo. You know the character to be your brother's?

Edm. If the matter were good, my lord, I durst swear it were his; but, in respect of that, I would fain think it were not.

Glo. It is his.

Edm. It is his hand, my lord; but, I hope, his heart is not in the contents.

Glo. Hath he never heretofore sounded you in this business?

Edm. Never, my lord: But I have often heard

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