Original Text
*Enter Cordelia, Kent, and Gentleman.* CORDELIA. O thou good Kent, how shall I live and work To match thy goodness? My life will be too short, And every measure fail me. KENT. To be acknowledged, madam, is o'erpaid. All my reports go with the modest truth, Nor more, nor clipped, but so.
Original Text
CORDELIA. Be better suited: These weeds are memories of those worser hours; I prithee, put them off. KENT. Pardon, dear madam; Yet to be known shortens my made intent: My boon I make it, that you know me not Till time and I think meet. CORDELIA. Then be't so, my good lord. How does the King?
Original Text
GENTLEMAN. Madam, sleeps still. CORDELIA. O you kind gods! Cure this great breach in his abused nature, Th' untuned and jarring senses, O wind up Of this child-changed father.
Original Text
GENTLEMAN. So please your majesty That we may wake the King — he hath slept long. CORDELIA. Be governed by your knowledge, and proceed I'th' sway of your own will. Is he arrayed? *Enter Lear, asleep, carried in a chair by servants.* GENTLEMAN. Ay, madam; in the heaviness of sleep We put fresh garments on him. Be by, good madam, when we do awake him; I doubt of his temperance.
Original Text
CORDELIA. O my dear father! Restoration hang Thy medicine on my lips, and let this kiss Repair those violent harms that my two sisters Have in thy reverence made. KENT. Kind and dear princess.
Original Text
CORDELIA. Had you not been their father, these white flakes Did challenge pity of them. Was this a face To be opposed against the warring winds? Mine enemy's dog, though he had bit me, Should have stood that night against my fire; And wast thou fain, poor father, To hovel thee with swine and rogues forlorn, In short and musty straw? Alack, alack! 'Tis wonder that thy life and wits at once Had not concluded all. He wakes — speak to him.
Original Text
GENTLEMAN. Madam, do you — 'tis fittest. CORDELIA. How does my royal lord? How fares your majesty? LEAR. You do me wrong to take me out o'th' grave. Thou art a soul in bliss; but I am bound Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears Do scald like molten lead.
Original Text
CORDELIA. Sir, do you know me? LEAR. You are a spirit, I know. When did you die? CORDELIA. *(to Gentleman)* Still, still, far wide. GENTLEMAN. He's scarce awake; Let him alone a while.
Original Text
LEAR. Where have I been? Where am I? Fair daylight? I am mightily abused. I should e'en die with pity To see another thus. I know not what to say. I will not swear these are my hands. Let's see: I feel this pin prick. Would I were assured Of my condition.
Original Text
CORDELIA. O, look upon me, sir, And hold your hand in benediction o'er me. You must not kneel. LEAR. Pray do not mock me: I am a very foolish, fond old man, Fourscore and upward, Not an hour more nor less; And to deal plainly, I fear I am not in my perfect mind.
Original Text
Methinks I should know you, and know this man; Yet I am doubtful: for I am mainly ignorant What place this is; and all the skill I have Remembers not these garments; nor I know not Where I did lodge last night. Do not laugh at me, For, as I am a man, I think this lady To be my child Cordelia. CORDELIA. And so I am, I am.
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LEAR. Be your tears wet? Yes, faith. I pray, weep not: If you have poison for me, I will drink it. I know you do not love me; for your sisters Have, as I do remember, done me wrong: You have some cause, they have not. CORDELIA. No cause, no cause.
Original Text
LEAR. Am I in France? KENT. In your own kingdom, sir. LEAR. Do not abuse me. GENTLEMAN. Be comforted, good madam: the great rage You see is killed in him; and yet it is danger To make him even o'er the time he has lost. Desire him to go in; trouble him no more Till further settling.
Original Text
CORDELIA. Will't please your highness walk? LEAR. You must bear with me. Pray you now, forget and forgive: I am old and foolish. *Exeunt.*