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