Speeches (Lines) for King of France in "The Tragedy of King Lear"

Total: 5
print
# Act / Scene Speech text
1 I / 1
  • This is most strange,
    That she that even but now was your best object,
    T...
  • This is most strange,
    That she that 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.
  • Lear. Then leave her, sir; for, by the pow'r 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
    T' avert your liking a more worthier way
    Than on a wretch whom nature is asham'd
    Almost t' acknowledge hers.

    King of France. This is most strange,
    That she that 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.

2 I / 1
  • Is it but this- a tardiness in nature
    Which often leaves the history unspoke...
  • 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 th' entire point. Will you have her?
    She is herself a dowry.
  • Lear. Better thou
    Hadst not been born than not t' have pleas'd me better.

    King of 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 th' entire point. Will you have her?
    She is herself a dowry.

3 I / 1
  • Fairest Cordelia, that art most rich, being poor;
    Most choice, forsaken; and...
  • 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 dow'rless daughter, King, thrown to my chance,
    Is queen of us, of ours, and our fair France.
    Not all the dukes in wat'rish Burgundy
    Can buy this unpriz'd precious maid of me.
    Bid them farewell, Cordelia, though unkind.
    Thou losest here, a better where to find.
  • Cordelia. Peace be with Burgundy!
    Since that respects of fortune are his love,
    I shall not be his wife.

    King of 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 dow'rless daughter, King, thrown to my chance,
    Is queen of us, of ours, and our fair France.
    Not all the dukes in wat'rish Burgundy
    Can buy this unpriz'd precious maid of me.
    Bid them farewell, Cordelia, though unkind.
    Thou losest here, a better where to find.

4 I / 1
  • Bid farewell to your sisters.
  • Bid farewell to your sisters.
  • 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.

    King of France. Bid farewell to your sisters.

5 I / 1
  • Come, my fair Cordelia.
  • Come, my fair Cordelia.
  • Cordelia. Time shall unfold what plighted cunning hides.
    Who cover faults, at last shame them derides.
    Well may you prosper!

    King of France. Come, my fair Cordelia.

shakespeare_network

© Copyright 2017-2024 Shakespeare Network - Maximianno Cobra - All rights reserved.