Cordelie: Then poor Cordelia! And yet not so; since, I am sure, my love's More richer than my tongue. King 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. Cordelia: Nothing, my lord. King Lear: Nothing! Cordelia: Nothing. King Lear: Nothing can come of nothing: speak again. Cordelia: Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave My heart into my mouth: I love your majesty According to my bond; no more nor less. King Lear: How, how, Cordelia? mend your speech a little, Lest you may mar your fortunes. Cordelia: 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. King Lear: But goes thy heart with this? Cordelia: Ay, good my lord. King Lear: So young, and so untender? Cordelia: So young, my lord, and true.