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Gon. I love you, Sir,/
Dearer than eye-fight, fpace and liberty;
Cor. What fhall Cordelia do? love and be filent. [Afide."
Reg. I'm made of that felf-metal as my fifter,
Which the moft precious fquare of fenfe poffeffes;
In your dear Highness' love.
Cor. Then poor Cordelia!
And yet not fo, fince, I am fure, my love's
Lear. To thee, and thiné, hereditary ever,
Cor. Nothing, my Lord.
(1) And prize me at her Worth. In my true Heart,] Mr. Bishop prefcribed the pointing of this Paffage, 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 Sifter. Without this Change in the Pointing, fhe makes a Boaft of herfelf without any Caufe affigned.
Lear. Nothing can come of nothing; fpeak again.
My heart into my mouth: I love your Majesty
Lear. How, how, Cordelia? mend your speech a little, Left you may mar your fortunes.
Cor. Good my Lord,
You have begot me, bred me, lov'd me. I
To love my father all.
Lear. But goes thy heart with this ?
Lear. So young, and fo untender?
Lear. Let it be fo, thy truth then be thy dower: For by the facred radiance of the fun,
The mysteries of Hecate, and the night,
By all the operations of the orbs,
From whom we do exift, and cease to be;
And as a ftranger to my heart and me
Hold thee, from this, for ever. The barb'rous Scythian, Or he, that makes his generation messes
To gorge his appetite, fhall to my bofom
Be as well neighbour'd, pitied, and reliev'd,
Kent. Good my Liege
Lear. Peace, Kent!
Come not between the dragon and his wrath.
On her kind nars'ry. Hence, avoid my fight!- [T. Cor.
So be my grave my peace, as here I give
Her father's heart from her; Call France; who stirs ?
With my two daughters' dowers digeft the third.
That troop with Majefty. Our felf by monthly course,
Beloved fons be yours; which to confirm,
Kent. Royal Lear,
[Giving the Crown.
Whom I have ever honour'd as my King,
Lov'd as my father, as my mafter follow'd,
And as my patron thought on in my pray'rs-
Referve thy State; with better judgment check
Lear. Kent, on thy life no more.
Kent. My life I never held but as a pawn To wage againft thy foes; nor fear to lose it, Thy fafety being the motive.
Lear. Out of my fight!
Kent. See better, Lear, and let me ftill remain The true blank of thine eye.
Lear. Now by Apollo
Kent. Now by Apollo, King,
Thou fwear'ft thy gods in vain.
[Laying his hand on his ford.
Alb. Corn. Dear Sir, forbear.
Lear. Hear me, recreant!
Since thou haft fought to make us break our vow,
Kent. Fare thee well, King; fith thus thou wilt appear, Freedom lives hence, and banishment is here; The gods to their dear fhelter take thee, maid, That juftly think'ft, and haft moft rightly faid; And your large fpeeches may your deeds approve, That good effects may fpring from words of love : Thus Kent, O Princes, bids you all adieu, He'll fhape his old courfe in a country new,
Enter Glo'fter, with France and Burgundy, and Attendants.
Glo. Here's France and Burgundy, my noble Lord.
We first addrefs tow'rd you, who with this King
Bur. Moft royal Majefty,
I crave no more than what your Highness offer'd,
Nor will you tender lefs.
Lear. Right, noble Burgundy,
When the was dear to us, we held her fo;
But now her price is fall'n: Sir, there fhe ftands,
And nothing more, may fitly like your Grace,
Bur. I know no answer.
Lear. Will you with those infirmities fhe owes, Unfriended, new-adopted to our hate,
Dower'd with our curfe, and stranger'd with our oath, Take her, or leave her?
Bur. Pardon, royal Sir;
Election makes not up on fuch conditions.
Lear. Then leave her, Sir; for by the pow'r that made me,
I tell you all her wealth
-For you, great King,
I would not from your love make fuch a stray,
To match you where I hate; therefore befeech you, T'avert your liking a more worthy way
Than on a wretch, whom nature is asham'd
Almoft t'acknowledge hers.
France. This is most strange!
That she, who ev'r, but now was your beft object,
That monfters it; or your fore-vouch'd affection
Cor. I yet befeech your Majefty,
(If, for I want that glib and oily art,
To fpeak and purpofe not; fince what I well intend, I'll do't before I fpeak,) that you make known
It is no vicious blot, murder, or foulness,