KING LEAR. Bur. Pardon me, royal sir; 267 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, 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 she, that even but now was your best object, That monsters it, or your fore-vouch'd affection 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 dishonor'd step, That hath deprived me of your grace and favor: 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. Which often leaves the history unspoke, That it intends to do?-My lord of Burgundy, 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. [To France. Cor. Peace be with Burgundy ! Since that respects of fortune are his love, France. Fairest Cordelia, that art most rich, being poor; Thee and thy virtues here I seize upon : Gods, gods! 'tis strange, that from their cold'st neglect Shall buy this unpriz'd precious maid of me.- Lear. Thou hast her, France: let her be thine; for we Have no such daughter, nor shall ever see Without our grace, our love, our benison. Come, noble Burgundy. [Flourish. Exeunt LEAR, BURGUNDY, CORNWALL, ALBANY, GLOSTER, and Attendants. France. Bid farewell to your sisters. Your faults as they are nam'd. Use well our father: Gon. Prescribe not us our duties. Let your study Be, to content your lord; who hath receiv'd you Cor. Time shall unfold what plaited cunning hides; France. Come, my fair Cordelia. [Exeunt FRANCE and CORDELIA. Confining ourselves to the main incidents connected with the story of Lear,-his wrongs and sufferings, we are necessarily compelled to omit much of the under plot of this Play, in which Shakspeare introduces, as a counterpart to Lear suffering under the ingratitude of his children, Edgar, the son of Gloster, as a pattern of filial piety and love, unjustly persecuted by his father. Gloster is persuaded by the machinations of Edmund, to believe that Edgar seeks his life. The next scene we extract, introduces Kent in the disguise of a Peasant, under the name of Carus, seeking to engage himself in the service of the King, whom he fears will be improperly treated by Regan and Goneril. that will put me in trust; to love him that i with him that is wise, and says little; to fe when I cannot choose; and to eat no fish. Lear. What art thou ? Kent. A very honest-hearted fellow, and as Lear. If thou be as poor for a subject, as he poor enough. What would'st thou ? Kent. Service, Lear. Who would'st thou serve? Lear. Dost thou know me, fellow ? Kent. No, sir; but you have that in your would fain call master. Lear. What's that? Kent. Authority. Lear. What services canst thou do? Kent. I can keep honest counsel, ride, run, telling it, and deliver a plain message bluntly men are fit for, I am qualified in: and the best Lear. How old art thou? Kent. Not so young, sir, to love a woman fo to dote on her for any thing: I have years on Lear. Follow me; thou shalt serve me; If after dinner, I will not part from thee yet. Where's my knave? my fool? Go you, and c Enter Steward. You, you, sirrah, where's my daughter? Stew. So please you, Lear. What says the fellow there? Call Where's my fool, ho?-I think the world's where's that mongrel? Knight. He says, my lord, your daughter is Lear. Why came not the slave back to me when I called him ? Knight. Sir, he answer'd me in the roundest manner, he would not. Lear. He would not! Knight. My lord, I know not what the matter is; but, to my judgment, your highness is not entertain'd with that ceremonious affection as you were wont; there's a great abatement of kindness appears, as well in the general dependants, as in the duke himself also, and your daughter. Lear. Ha! say'st thou so? Knight. I beseech you, pardon me, my lord, if I be mistaken: for my duty cannot be silent, when I think your highness is wrong'd. Lear. Thou but remember'st me of mine own conception; I have perceived a most faint neglect of late; which I have rather blamed as mine own jealous curiosity, than as a very pretence and purpose of unkindness: I will further into't. But where's my fool? I have not seen him this two days. Knight. Since my young lady's going into France, sir, the fool hath much pined away. Lear. No more of that; I have noted it well.-Go you, and tell my daughter I would speak with her. -Go you, call hither my fool. Re-enter Steward. O, you sir, you sir, come you hither: Who am I, sir ? Stew. My lady's father. Lear. My lady's father! my lord's knave: you dog! you slave! you cur! Stew. I am none of this, my lord; I beseech you, pardon me. Kent. Nor tripped neither; you base foot-ball player. [Tripping up his heels. Lear. I thank thee, fellow; thou servest me, and I'll love thee. Kent. Come, sir, arise, away; I'll teach you differences; away, away: If you will measure your lubber's length again, tarry: but away: go to; Have you wisdom? so. [Pushes the Steward out. Lear. Now, my friendly knave, I thank thee: there's earnest of thy service. Enter Fool. [Giving KENT money. Fool. Let me hire him too ;--Here's my coxcomb. [Giving KENT his cap. Lear. How now, my pretty knave? how dost thou ? Kent. Why, fool? Fool. Why? For taking one's part that is out of favor: Nay, an thou canst not smile as the wind sits, thou'lt catch cold shortly: There, take my coxcomb: Why, this fellow has banish'd two of his daughters, and did the third a blessing against his will; if thou fol Set less than thou throwest; Lear. This is nothing, fool. Fool. Then 'tis like the breath of an unfe me nothing for 't: Can you make no use of n Lear. Why, no, boy; nothing can be made Fool. Pr'ythee, tell him, so much the rent he will not believe thee. Lear. A bitter fool! Fool. Dost thou know the difference, my fool and a sweet one? Lear. No, lad; teach me. Fool. That lord, that counsell'd thee The other found out there. Kent. This is not altogether fool, my lord. Fool. Thou hadst little wit in thy bald cro thy golden one away. If I speak like myse whipp'd that first finds it so. Fools had ne'er less grace in ay |