Beyond all manner of so much I love you. silent. [aside. Lear. Of all these bounds, even from this line to this, With shadowy forests and with champains 1 rich'd, Re. I am made of that self metal as my sister, Only she comes too short;—that I profess Which the most precious square 2 of sense possesses; And find, I am alone felicitate In your dear highness' love. Cor. Then poor Cordelia! [aside. Lear. To thee and thine, hereditary ever, Remain this ample third of our fair kingdom; No less in space, validity,3 and pleasure, Than that confirm'd on Goneril.-Now, our joy, Although the last, not least; to whose young love The vines of France, and milk of Burgundy 1 Open plains. 2 Comprehension. Strive to be interess'd; 1-what can you say, to draw A third more opulent than your sisters? Speak. Cor. Nothing, my lord. Lear. Nothing? Cor. Nothing. Lear. Nothing will come of nothing; speak again. Cor. Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave My heart into my mouth: I love your majesty Lear. How, how, Cordelia? mend your speech a little, Lest it may mar your fortunes. Cor. Good my lord, You have begot me, bred me, loved me: I Return those duties back as are right fit; Obey you, love you, and most honor 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. Sure, I shall never marry like my sisters, To love my father all. Lear. But goes this with thy heart? Cor. Ay, good my lord. Lear. So young, and so untender? United. Cor. So young, my lord, and true. 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: From whom we do exist, and cease to be; And as a stranger to my heart and me Hold thee, from this, for ever. The barbarous Scythian, 1 Or he that makes his generation 1 messes To gorge his appetite, shall to my bosom Kent. Lear. Peace, Kent! Good my liege, Come not between the dragon and his wrath. sight! So be my grave my peace, as here I give [to Cordelia. Her father's heart from her!-Call France!-Who stirs ? Call Burgundy.-Cornwall, and Albany, With my two daughters' dowers digest the third : His children. |