King Lear - Act 1 - Scene 1

SCENE I. King Lear's palace.

    Enter KENT, GLOUCESTER, and EDMUND

KENT

    I thought the king had more affected the Duke of
    Albany than Cornwall.

GLOUCESTER

    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 equalities are so
    weighed, that curiosity in neither can make choice
    of either's moiety.

KENT

    Is not this your son, my lord?

GLOUCESTER

    His breeding, sir, hath been at my charge: I have
    so often blushed to acknowledge him, that now I am
    brazed to it.

KENT

    I cannot conceive you.

GLOUCESTER

    Sir, this young fellow's mother could: whereupon
    she grew round-wombed, 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.

GLOUCESTER

    But I have, sir, a son by order of law, some year
    elder than this, who yet is no dearer in my account:
    though this knave came something saucily into 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
    noble gentleman, Edmund?

EDMUND

    No, my lord.

GLOUCESTER

    My lord of Kent: remember him hereafter as my
    honourable friend.

EDMUND

    My services to your lordship.

KENT

    I must love you, and sue to know you better.

EDMUND

    Sir, I shall study deserving.

GLOUCESTER

    He hath been out nine years, and away he shall
    again. The king is coming.

    Sennet. Enter KING LEAR, CORNWALL, ALBANY, GONERIL, REGAN, CORDELIA, and Attendants

KING LEAR

    Attend the lords of France and Burgundy, Gloucester.

GLOUCESTER

    I shall, my liege.

    Exeunt GLOUCESTER and EDMUND

KING LEAR

    Meantime we shall express our darker purpose.
    Give me the map there. Know that 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
    Unburthen'd crawl toward 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' several dowers, that future strife
    May be prevented now. The princes, France and Burgundy,
    Great rivals in our youngest daughter's love,
    Long in our court have made their amorous sojourn,
    And here are to be answer'd. Tell me, my daughters,--
    Since now we will divest us both of rule,
    Interest of territory, cares of state,--
    Which of you shall we say doth love us most?
    That we our largest bounty may extend
    Where nature doth with merit challenge. Goneril,
    Our eldest-born, speak first.

GONERIL

    Sir, I love you more than words can wield the matter;
    Dearer than eye-sight, space, and liberty;
    Beyond what can be valued, rich or rare;
    No less than life, with grace, health, beauty, honour;
    As much as child e'er loved, or father found;
    A love that makes breath poor, and speech unable;
    Beyond all manner of so much I love you.

CORDELIA

    [Aside] What shall Cordelia do?
    Love, and be silent.

LEAR

    Of all these bounds, even from this line to this,
    With shadowy forests and with champains 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 second daughter,
    Our dearest Regan, wife to Cornwall? Speak.

REGAN

    Sir, I am made
    Of the self-same metal that my sister is,
    And prize me at her worth. In my true heart
    I find she 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 possesses;
    And find I am alone felicitate
    In your dear highness' love.

CORDELIA

    [Aside] Then poor Cordelia!
    And yet not so; since, I am sure, my love's
    More richer than my tongue.

KING 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 Goneril. Now, our joy,
    Although the last, not least; to whose young love
    The vines of France and milk of Burgundy
    Strive to be interess'd; what can you say to draw
    A third more opulent than your sisters? Speak.

CORDELIA

    Nothing, my lord.

KING LEAR

    Nothing!

CORDELIA

    Nothing.

KING LEAR

    Nothing will come of nothing: speak again.

CORDELIA

    Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave
    My heart into my mouth: I love your majesty
    According to my bond; nor more nor less.

KING LEAR

    How, how, Cordelia! mend your speech a little,
    Lest it may mar your fortunes.

CORDELIA

    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 honour 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.

KING LEAR

    But goes thy heart with this?

CORDELIA

    Ay, good my lord.

KING LEAR

    So young, and so untender?

CORDELIA

    So young, my lord, and true.

KING 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;
    By all the operation of the orbs
    From whom we do exist, and cease to be;
    Here I disclaim all my paternal care,
    Propinquity and property of blood,
    And as a stranger to my heart and me
    Hold thee, from this, for ever. The barbarous Scythian,
    Or he that makes his generation messes
    To gorge his appetite, shall to my bosom
    Be as well neighbour'd, pitied, and relieved,
    As thou my sometime daughter.

KENT

    Good my liege,--

KING LEAR

    Peace, Kent!
    Come not between the dragon and his wrath.
    I loved her most, and thought to set my rest
    On her kind nursery. Hence, and avoid my sight!
    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 course,
    With reservation of an hundred knights,
    By you to be sustain'd, shall our abode
    Make with you by due turns. Only we still retain
    The name, and all the additions to a king;
    The sway, revenue, execution of the rest,
    Beloved sons, be yours: which to confirm,
    This coronet part betwixt you.

    Giving the crown

KENT

    Royal Lear,
    Whom I have ever honour'd as my king,
    Loved as my father, as my master follow'd,
    As my great patron thought on in my prayers,--

KING 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 wilt thou do, old man?
    Think'st thou that duty shall have dread to speak,
    When power to flattery bows? To plainness honour's bound,
    When majesty stoops to folly. Reverse thy doom;
    And, in thy best consideration, cheque
    This hideous rashness: answer my life my judgment,
    Thy youngest daughter does not love thee least;
    Nor are those empty-hearted whose low sound
    Reverbs no hollowness.

KING LEAR

    Kent, on thy life, no more.

KENT

    My life I never held but as a pawn
    To wage against thy enemies; nor fear to lose it,
    Thy safety being the motive.

KING LEAR

    Out of my sight!

KENT

    See better, Lear; and let me still remain
    The true blank of thine eye.

KING LEAR

    Now, by Apollo,--

KENT

    Now, by Apollo, king,
    Thou swear'st thy gods in vain.

KING LEAR

    O, vassal! miscreant!

    Laying his hand on his sword

ALBANY CORNWALL

    Dear sir, forbear.

KENT

    Do:
    Kill thy physician, and the fee bestow
    Upon thy foul disease. Revoke thy doom;
    Or, whilst I can vent clamour from my throat,
    I'll tell thee thou dost evil.

KING LEAR

    Hear me, recreant!
    On thine allegiance, hear me!
    Since thou hast sought to make us break our vow,
    Which we durst never yet, and with strain'd pride
    To come between our sentence and our power,
    Which nor our nature nor our place can bear,
    Our potency made good, take thy reward.
    Five days we do allot thee, for provision
    To shield thee from diseases of the world;
    And on the sixth to turn thy hated back
    Upon our kingdom: if, on the tenth day following,
    Thy banish'd trunk be found in our dominions,
    The moment is thy death. Away! by Jupiter,
    This shall not be revoked.

KENT

    Fare thee well, king: sith thus thou wilt appear,
    Freedom lives hence, and banishment is here.

    To CORDELIA
    The gods to their dear shelter take thee, maid,
    That justly think'st, and hast most rightly said!

    To REGAN and GONERIL
    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.

    Exit

    Flourish. Re-enter GLOUCESTER, with KING OF FRANCE, BURGUNDY, and Attendants

GLOUCESTER

    Here's France and Burgundy, my noble lord.

KING LEAR

    My lord of Burgundy.
    We first address towards 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 what your highness offer'd,
    Nor will you tender less.

KING 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 pieced,
    And nothing more, may fitly like your grace,
    She's there, and she is yours.

BURGUNDY

    I know no answer.

KING 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 on such conditions.

KING LEAR

    Then leave her, sir; for, by the power that made me,
    I tell you all her wealth.

    To KING OF FRANCE
    For you, great king,
    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 ashamed
    Almost to acknowledge hers.

KING OF FRANCE

    This is most strange,
    That she, that even but now was your best object,
    The argument of your praise, balm of your age,
    Most 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'n into taint: which to believe of her,
    Must be a faith that reason without miracle
    Could 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 deprived 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.

KING LEAR

    Better thou
    Hadst not been born than not to have pleased me better.

KING OF 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 stand
    Aloof from the entire point. Will you have her?
    She is herself a dowry.

BURGUNDY

    Royal Lear,
    Give but that portion which yourself proposed,
    And here I take Cordelia by the hand,
    Duchess of Burgundy.

KING 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 fortune are his love,
    I shall not be his wife.

KING OF FRANCE

    Fairest Cordelia, that art most rich, being poor;
    Most choice, forsaken; and most loved, despised!
    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 inflamed 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 unprized precious maid of me.
    Bid them farewell, Cordelia, though unkind:
    Thou losest here, a better where to find.

KING 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.

    Flourish. Exeunt all but KING OF FRANCE, GONERIL, REGAN, and CORDELIA

KING OF 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 named. 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.

REGAN

    Prescribe not us our duties.

GONERIL

    Let your study
    Be to content your lord, who hath received you
    At fortune's alms. You have obedience scanted,
    And well are worth the want that you have wanted.

CORDELIA

    Time shall unfold what plaited cunning hides:
    Who cover faults, at last shame them derides.
    Well may you prosper!

KING OF FRANCE

    Come, my fair Cordelia.

    Exeunt KING OF FRANCE and CORDELIA

GONERIL

    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.

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 judgment 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 to receive from his age,
    not alone the imperfections of long-engraffed
    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 leavetaking
    between France and him. Pray you, let's hit
    together: if our father carry authority with
    such dispositions as he bears, this last
    surrender of his will but offend us.

REGAN

    We shall further think on't.

GONERIL

    We must do something, and i' the heat.

    Exeunt