READ STUDY GUIDE: Act I, scenes i–ii |
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Act I, Scene i:
A Room of State in King Lear's Palace.
A Room of State in King Lear's Palace.
| [Enter Kent, Gloster, and Edmund.] |
| Kent.: |
| I thought the King had more affected the Duke of Albany than |
| Cornwall. |
| Glou.: |
| 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? |
| Glou.: |
| His breeding, sir, hath been at my charge: I have so often |
| blush'd to acknowledge him that now I am braz'd to't. |
| Kent.: |
| I cannot conceive you. |
| Glou.: |
| 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. |
| Glou.: |
| 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? |
| Edm.: |
| No, my lord. |
| Glou.: |
| My Lord of Kent: remember him hereafter as my honourable friend. |
| Edm.: |
| My services to your lordship. |
| Kent.: |
| I must love you, and sue to know you better. |
| Edm.: |
| Sir, I shall study deserving. |
| Glou.: |
| He hath been out nine years, and away he shall again.—The king |
| is coming. |
| [Sennet within.] |
| [Enter Lear, Cornwall, Albany, Goneril, Regan, Cordelia, andAttendants.] |
| Lear.: |
| Attend the lords of France and Burgundy, |
| Gloster. |
| Glou.: |
| I shall, my liege. |
| [Exeunt Gloster and Edmund.] |
| 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 |
| Unburden'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. |
| Gon.: |
| Sir, I love you more than words can wield the matter; |
| Dearer than eyesight, space, and liberty; |
| Beyond what can be valu'd, rich or rare; |
| No less than life, with grace, health, beauty, honour; |
| 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 speak? 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. |
| Reg.: |
| Sir, I am made of the selfsame 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. |
| Cor.: |
| [Aside.] Then poor Cordelia! |
| And yet not so; since, I am sure, my love's |
| More richer than my tongue. |
| 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. |
| Cor.: |
| Nothing, my lord. |
| 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; no more nor less. |
| Lear.: |
| How, how, Cordelia? mend your speech a little, |
| Lest you may mar your fortunes. |
| Cor.: |
| Good my lord, |
| You have begot me, bred me, lov'd 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. |
| Lear.: |
| But goes thy heart with this? |
| Cor.: |
| Ay, good my lord. |
| Lear.: |
| So young, and so untender? |
| Cor.: |
| So young, my lord, and true. |
| 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 reliev'd, |
| As thou my sometime daughter. |
| Kent.: |
| Good my liege,— |
| Lear.: |
| Peace, Kent! |
| Come not between the dragon and his wrath. |
| I lov'd her most, and thought to set my rest |
| On her kind nursery.—Hence, and avoid my sight!—[To Cordelia.] |
| 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 in 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, |
| 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. |
| 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? |
| Think'st thou that duty shall have dread to speak |
| When power to flattery bows? To plainness honour's bound |
| When majesty falls to folly. Reverse thy state; |
| And in thy best consideration check |
| 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. |
| Lear.: |
| Kent, on thy life, no more. |
| Kent.: |
| My life I never held but as a pawn |
| To wage against thine enemies; nor fear to lose it, |
| Thy safety being the motive. |
| Lear.: |
| Out of my sight! |
| Kent.: |
| See better, Lear; and let me still remain |
| The true blank of thine eye. |
| Lear.: |
| Now, by Apollo,— |
| Kent.: |
| Now by Apollo, king, |
| Thou swear'st thy gods in vain. |
| Lear.: |
| O vassal! miscreant! |
| [Laying his hand on his sword.] |
| Alb. and Corn. |
| Dear sir, forbear! |
| Kent.: |
| Do; |
| Kill thy physician, and the fee bestow |
| Upon the foul disease. Revoke thy gift, |
| Or, whilst I can vent clamour from my throat, |
| I'll tell thee thou dost evil. |
| 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 revok'd. |
| 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 Gloster, with France, Burgundy, andAttendants.] |
| Glou.: |
| Here's France and Burgundy, my noble lord. |
| Lear.: |
| My Lord of Burgundy, |
| We first address toward 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? |
| Bur.: |
| Most royal majesty, |
| I crave no more than hath your highness offer'd, |
| Nor will you tender less. |
| 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 piec'd, |
| And nothing more, may fitly like your grace, |
| She's there, and she is yours. |
| Bur.: |
| I know no answer. |
| 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? |
| Bur.: |
| Pardon me, royal sir; |
| 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.—[To 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 asham'd |
| Almost to acknowledge hers. |
| France.: |
| This is most strange, |
| That she, who 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 |
| Should 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 dishonour'd step, |
| That hath depriv'd 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. |
| Lear.: |
| Better thou |
| Hadst not been born than not to have pleas'd me better. |
| 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 stands |
| Aloof from the entire point. Will you have her? |
| She is herself a dowry. |
| Bur.: |
| Royal king, |
| 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. |
| Cor.: |
| Peace be with Burgundy! |
| Since that respects of fortune are his love, |
| I shall not be his wife. |
| France.: |
| Fairest Cordelia, that art most rich, being poor; |
| Most choice, forsaken; and most lov'd, despis'd! |
| 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 inflam'd 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 unpriz'd precious maid of me.— |
| Bid them farewell, Cordelia, though unkind: |
| Thou losest here, a better where to find. |
| 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 Lear, Burgundy, Cornwall, Albany, Gloster,and Attendants.] |
| France.: |
| Bid farewell to your sisters. |
| Cor.: |
| 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 nam'd. Love 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. |
| Reg.: |
| Prescribe not us our duties. |
| Gon.: |
| Let your study |
| Be to content your lord, who hath receiv'd you |
| At fortune's alms. You have obedience scanted, |
| And well are worth the want that you have wanted. |
| Cor.: |
| Time shall unfold what plighted cunning hides: |
| Who cover faults, at last shame them derides. |
| Well may you prosper! |
| France.: |
| Come, my fair Cordelia. |
| [Exeunt France and Cordelia.] |
| Gon.: |
| Sister, it is not little I have to say of what most nearly |
| appertains to us both. I think our father will hence to-night. |
| Reg.: |
| That's most certain, and with you; next month with us. |
| Gon.: |
| 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. |
| Reg.: |
| 'Tis the infirmity of his age: yet he hath ever but slenderly |
| known himself. |
| Gon.: |
| 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-ingraffed condition, but therewithal the unruly waywardness |
| that infirm and choleric years bring with them. |
| Reg.: |
| Such unconstant starts are we like to have from him as this of |
| Kent's banishment. |
| Gon.: |
| There is further compliment of leave-taking between France and |
| him. Pray you let us hit together: if our father carry authority |
| with such dispositions as he bears, this last surrender of his |
| will but offend us. |
| Reg.: |
| We shall further think of it. |
| Gon.: |
| We must do something, and i' th' heat. |
| [Exeunt.] |
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