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THE

LIFE and DEATH

OF

KING LEAR.

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Knights attending on the King, Officers, Messengers,
Soldiers, and Attendants.

SCENE lies in Britain.

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KING LEAR.

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Enter Kent, Glo'ster, and Edmund the Bastard.

KENT.

Thought, the King had more affected the Duke of
Albany than Cornwall.

Glo. It did always seem so to us: but now, in the division of the Kingdom, it appears not, which of the Dukes he values most; for qualities are so weigh'd, that curiofity in neither can make choice of either's moiety.

Kent. Is not this your fon, my lord?

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Glo. His breeding, Sir, hath been at my charge. have so often blush'd to acknowledge him, that now I am braz'd to't.

Kent. I cannot conceive you.

Glo. Sir, this young fellow's mother could; whereupon the grew round-womb'd; and had, indeed, Sir, a son 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.

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Glo. But I have a son, Sir, by order of law, fome year elder than this, who yet is no dearer in my account; though this knave came fomewhat saucily to 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 Nobleman, Edmund ?

Edm. No, my lord.

Glo. My lord of Kent;

Remember him hereafter as my honourable friend.
Edm. My services to your lordship.

Kent. I must love you, and sue to know you better.
Edm. Sir, I shall study your deferving.

Glo. He hath been out nine years, and away he shalt [Trumpets found, within.

again.

The King is coming.

Enter King Lear, Cornwall, Albany, Gonerill, Regan, Cordelia, and Attendants.

Lear. Attend the lords of France and Burgundy, Glo'ster. Glo. I shall, my Liege. [Exit. Lear. Mean time we shall express our darker purpose. Give me the Map here. Know, we have divided, In three, our Kingdom; and 'tis our fast intent, To shake all cares and business from our age; Conferring them on younger strengths, while we Unburden'd crawl tow'rd 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 sev'ral Dow'rs, that future strife May be prevented now. The Princes France and Burgundy, Great rivals in our younger daughter's love, Long in our Court have made their am'rous sojourn, And here are to be answer'd. Tell me, daughters, (Since now we will divest us, both of rule, Int'rest of territory, cares of state ;) Which of you, shall we fay, doth love us most ? That we our largest bounty may extend, Where nature doth with merit challenge. Our eldest born, speak first.

Gonerill,

Gon.

Gon. I love you, Sir,

Dearer than eye-fight, space and liberty;
Beyond what can be valued, rich or rare;

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No less than life, with grace, health, beauty, honour:
As much as child e'er lov'd, or father found.

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A love that makes breath poor, and speech unable,
Beyond all manner of so much I love you,

Cor. What shall Cordelia do? love and be silent.

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[Afide.

Lear. Of all these bounds, ev'n from this line to this,
With shadowy forests and with champions rich'd,
With plenteous rivers and wide-skirted meads,
We make thee lady. To thine and Albany's issue
Be this perpetual. What says our fecond daughter,
Our dearest Regan, wife of Cornwall? speak.

Reg. I'm made of that felf-metal as my fifter,
And prize me at her worth, in my true heart. (1)
I find, the names my very deed of love;
Only she comes too short: that I profess
Myself an enemy to all other joys,
Which the most precious square of sense poffefses;

And find, I am alone felicitate
In your dear Highness' love.

Cor. Then poor Cordelia !

And yet not fo, fince, I am fure, my love's
More pond'rous than my tongue.

[Afide.

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 Gonerill. Now our joy,
Although our last, not least: to whose young love,
The vines of France, and milk of Burgundy,
Strive to be int'ress'd: what say you, to draw
A third, more opulent than your fifters ? speak.
Cor. Nothing, my lord.

(1) And prize me at her worth. In my true heart.] Mr. Bishop prescrib'd the pointing of this passage, as I have regulated it in the text. Regan would fay, that in the truth of her heart and affection, the equals the worth of her fister. Without this change in the pointing, the makes a boast of herself without any cause assign'd.

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Lear.

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