I am more an antique Roman than a Dane: As thou'rt a man, 356 Give me the cup: let go; by heaven, I'll have 't. O God! Horatio, what a wounded name, Things standing thus unknown, shall live behind me. If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart, [March afar off, and shot within. Osr. Young Fortinbras, with conquest come from Poland, 364 To the ambassadors of England gives This war-like volley. Ham. O! I die, Horatio; The potent poison quite o'er-crows my spirit: On Fortinbras: he has my dying voice; So tell him, with the occurrents, more and less, Which have solicited-The rest is silence. [Dies. Hor. Now cracks a noble heart. Good-night, sweet prince, 373 [March within. And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest! Why does the drum come hither? Enter FORTINBRAS, the English Ambassadors, and Others. Fort. Where is this sight? 392 Are here arriv'd, give order that these bodies ACT I. Glo. My Lord of Kent: remember him here SCENE I.-A Room of State in KING LEAR'S after as my honourable friend. Glo. 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? 16 Kent. I cannot wish the fault undone, the issue of it being so proper. Glo. But I have a son, sir, by order of law, some year elder than this, who yet is no dearer in my account: though this knave came somewhat 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? Edm. No, my lord. 26 Edm. My services to your lordship. Kent. I must love you, and sue to know you better. 32 And you, our no less loving son of Albany, Our eldest-born, speak first. 56 Lest you may mar your fortunes. Cor. Good my lord, Gon. Sir, I love you more than words can You have begot me, bred me, lov'd me: I wield the matter; Return those duties back as are right fit, shall carry As much as child e'er lov'd, or father found; A love that makes breath poor and speech unable; Beyond all manner of so much I love you. Cor. [Aside.] What shall Cordelia do? Love, and be silent. 64 73 Scythian, 76 Or he that makes his generation messes 120 Good my liege, Which the most precious square of sense pos sesses And find I am alone felicitate In your dear highness' love. [Aside.] Then, poor Cordelia! And yet not so; since, I am sure, my love's More richer than my tongue. 80 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, 84 Although our 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 1 Lear. Nothing? i Cor. Nothing. With reservation of a hundred knights, Make with you by due turn. Only we shall Our potency made good, take thy reward. retain The name and all th' addition to a king; 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 176 ing The sway, revenue, execution of the rest, This coronet part between you. Kent. Royal Lear, Whom I have ever honour'd as my king, Lov'd as my father, as my master follow'd, As my great patron thought on in my prayers, Lear. The bow is bent and drawn; make from the shaft. 145 Kent. Let it fall rather, though the fork invade The region of my heart: be Kent unmannerly When Lear is mad. What wouldst thou do, old man? 148 Think'st thou that duty shall have dread to speak 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. 188 I would not from your love make such a stray To match you where I hate; therefore, beseech you 213 To avert your liking a more worthier way This is most strange, 216 That she, who even but now was your best object, The argument of your praise, balm of your age, The best, the dearest, should in this trice of time Commit a thing so monstrous, to dismantle 220 So many folds of favour. Sure, her offence Must be of such unnatural degree Cor. intend, I yet beseech your majesty If for I want that glib and oily art That hath depriv'd me of your grace and favour, 256 Gon. The best and soundest of his time hath been but rash; then, must we look to receive |