Lear. Better thou had'st Not beene borne, then not t'haue pleas'd me better
Fra. Is it but this? A tardinesse in nature, Which often leaues the history vnspoke That it intends to do: my Lord of Burgundy, What say you to the Lady? Loue's not loue When it is mingled with regards, that stands Aloofe from th' intire point, will you haue her? She is herselfe a Dowrie
Bur. Royall King, Giue but that portion which your selfe propos'd, And here I take Cordelia by the hand, Dutchesse of Burgundie
Lear. Nothing, I haue sworne, I am firme
Bur. I am sorry then you haue so lost a Father, That you must loose a husband
Cor. Peace be with Burgundie, Since that respect and Fortunes are his loue, I shall not be his wife
Fra. Fairest Cordelia, that art most rich being poore, Most choise forsaken, and most lou'd despis'd, Thee and thy vertues here I seize vpon, Be it lawfull I take vp what's cast away. Gods, Gods! 'Tis strange, that from their cold'st neglect My Loue should kindle to enflam'd respect. Thy dowrelesse Daughter King, throwne to my chance, Is Queene of vs, of ours, and our faire France: Not all the Dukes of watrish Burgundy, Can buy this vnpriz'd precious Maid of me. Bid them farewell Cordelia, though vnkinde, Thou loosest here a better where to finde
Lear. Thou hast her France, let her be thine, for we Haue no such Daughter, nor shall euer see That face of hers againe, therfore be gone, Without our Grace, our Loue, our Benizon: Come Noble Burgundie.
Fra. Bid farwell to your Sisters
Cor. The Iewels of our Father, with wash'd eies Cordelia leaues you, I know you what you are, And like a Sister am most loth to call Your faults as they are named. Loue well our Father: To your professed bosomes I commit him, But yet alas, stood I within his Grace, I would prefer him to a better place, So farewell to you both
Regn. Prescribe not vs our dutie
Gon. Let your study Be to content your Lord, who hath receiu'd you At Fortunes almes, you haue obedience scanted, And well are worth the want that you haue wanted
Cor. Time shall vnfold what plighted cunning hides, Who couers faults, at last with shame derides: Well may you prosper
Fra. Come my faire Cordelia.
Exit France and Cor.
Gon. Sister, it is not little I haue to say, Of what most neerely appertaines to vs both, I thinke our Father will hence to night
Reg. That's most certaine, and with you: next moneth with vs
Gon. You see how full of changes his age is, the obseruation we haue made of it hath beene little; he alwaies lou'd our Sister most, and with what poore iudgement he hath now cast her off, appeares too grossely
Reg. 'Tis the infirmity of his age, yet he hath euer but slenderly knowne himselfe
Gon. The best and soundest of his time hath bin but rash, then must we looke from his age, to receiue not alone the imperfections of long ingraffed condition, but therewithall the vnruly way-wardnesse, that infirme and cholericke yeares bring with them
Reg. Such vnconstant starts are we like to haue from him, as this of Kents banishment
Gon. There is further complement of leaue-taking betweene France and him, pray you let vs sit together, if our Father carry authority with such disposition as he beares, this last surrender of his will but offend vs
Reg. We shall further thinke of it
Gon. We must do something, and i'th' heate.