Cor. What shall Cordelia do? Love and be silent. (Aside.) Reg. I am made of that self metal as my sister, Which the most precious square of sense possesses; In your dear highness' love. Cor. Then poor Cordelia! (Aside.) And yet not so: since, I am sure, my love's Lear. To thee, and thine, hereditary ever, Lear. Nothing? Cor. Nothing. Lear. Nothing can come of nothing; speak again. Cor. Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave My heart into my mouth; I love your majesty According to my bond; nor more, nor less. Lear. How, how, Cordelia? mend your speech a little Lest it may mar your fortunes. Cor. Good my lord, You are my father, have bred me, loved me; I return those duties back as are right fit, Obey you, love you, and most honor you. Why have my sisters husbands, if they say 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. Lear. But goes this with thy heart? Lear. So young and so untender! Cor. So young, my lord, and true. Lear. Let it be so. Thy truth, then, be thy dower; From whom we do exist, and cease to be; And as a stranger to my heart and me, Hold thee, from this, forever. The barbarous Scythian, To gorge his appetite, shall to my bosom Kent. Good, my liege,— Lear. Peace, Kent! Come not between the dragon and his wrath, So be my grave my peace, as here I give Her father's heart from her! Cornwall, and Albany, (To Cordelia.) With my two daughters' dowers digest this third; That troop with majesty. Ourself, by monthly course, By you to be sustained, shall our abode Make with you by due turns. Only we still retain The name, and all additions to a king; The sway, Revenue, execution of the rest, Beloved sons, be yours'; which to confirm, This coronet part between you. (Giving the crown.) Kent. Royal Lear, Whom I have ever honored as my king, Loved as my father, as my master followed, As my great patron thought on in my prayers, 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 would'st thou do, old man? When power to flattery bows? To plainness honor's bound, And, in thy best consideration, check This hideous rashness; answer my life, my judgment, Reverbs no hollowness. Lear. Kent, on thy life, no more. SHAKSPEARE. LESSON XXXII. FILIAL INGRATITUDE. SCENE. A heath.—A storm with thunder and lightning. Enter Kent and a Gentleman, meeting. Kent. WHO's here, besides foul weather? Gent. One minded like the weather, most unquietly. Gent. Contending with the fretful elements, Or swell the curled waters 'bove the main, That things might change, or cease; tears his white hair; Catch in their fury, and make nothing of: Strives in his little world of man, to out-scorn The to-and-fro-conflicting wind and rain. This night, wherein the cub-drawn bear would couch, The lion, and the hunger-pinched wolf, Keep their fur dry, unbonneted he roves, And bids what will, take all. Enter King Lear. Lear. Blow, winds! and crack your cheeks! rage! blow! You cataracts and hurricanes! spout Till you have drenched our steeples. You sulphurous and thought-executing fires, Vaunt-couriers to oak-cleaving thunder-bolts, Singe my white head! And thou, all-shaking thunder, Strike flat the thick rotundity o' the world! Crack nature's molds, all germins spill at once, That make ungrateful man! spit,fire! spout, rain! That keep this dreadful pother o'er our heads, These dreadful summoners grace. I am a man More sinned against, than sinning. Kent. Gracious, my lord, hard by here is a hovel; Some friendship will it lend you 'gainst the tempest; Repose you here. Lear. My wits begin to turn. Kent. Here is the place, my lord; good, my lord, enter. The tyranny of the open night's too much Lear. Thou think'st 'tis much, that this contentious storm Invades us to the skin: so 'tis to thee: But where the greater malady is fixed, The less is scarcely felt. Thou'dst shun a bear; But if thy flight lay toward the raging sea, Thou'dst meet the bear i' the mouth. When the mind's free, The body's delicate; the tempest in my mind Doth from my senses take all feeling else, In such a night as this! O Regan! Goneril! SHAKSPEARE. LESSON XXXIII FILIAL AFFECTION. PRESENT. King Lear, Cordelia, and Physician. Had you not been their father, these white flakes Was this a face To be exposed against the warring winds? To stand against the deep, dread-bolted thunder? Of quick, cross-lightning? My enemy's dog, In short and musty straw? Alack, alack! Had not concluded all.-He wakes; speak to him. Cor. How does my royal lord? How fares your majesty? Thou art a soul in bliss, but I am bound Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears Do scald like molten lead. Cor. Sir, do you know me? Lear. You are a spirit, I know; when did you die? Phys. He's scarce awake; let him alone awhile. Lear. Where have I been? where am I? fair day light? I'm mightily abused; I should even die with pity To see another thus. I know not what to say; Cor. Oh! look upon me, sir, And hold your hand in benediction o'er me; |