Families can bring out the best in us, and they can bring out the worst, as we see in the story of King Lear. The proud, old king does not realize his actions will cause loyalty and love to battle greed and hate—with tragic consequences. The story begins in the great hall of his castle.
Lear, king of England, had grown tired of his responsibilities. "It is time," he announced, "to pass on my duties to those who are younger, while I, free of my burden, crawl toward death. I shall divide my kingdom into three parts, one for each of my daughters."
Lear then unrolled a map. "I will give the biggest part," he said, "to the one who convinces me she loves me most." He turned to his oldest daughter, Goneril, who stood beside her husband, the Duke of Albany. "Speak first," Lear commanded.
Goneril said, "I love you more than words can say, Father, beyond anything that can be measured, and as much as freedom and life itself." Smiling insincerely, she went on with more pretty phrases.
Cordelia, Lear’s youngest daughter, listened with disgust. She knew her sister would say anything to get as much land as possible.
But Lear was very pleased by his oldest daughter’s words. He pointed to a section on the map. "From here to here, all this will be yours and Albany’s. Now, what says my second daughter, Regan, dear wife of the Duke of Cornwall?"
Regan boldly stepped forward. "My sister’s words also describe my love for you, except she hasn’t gone far enough. Nothing in life gives me joy except my love for you!" she cried dramatically.
Cordelia was now very upset. "How can I compete with these lies?" she thought. "Yet, I know my love for my father is greater than I can express."
But again, Lear was delighted, and indicated another part of the map. "This is for you and Cornwall," he said to Regan, "and it is equal to Goneril’s share." Then he turned to Cordelia. "And you, my youngest and my joy, what can you say to win the remaining third, the finest part of my kingdom? Speak!"
"Nothing, my lord," replied Cordelia quietly.
"Nothing?" said Lear, shocked. "Nothing will come of nothing. Speak again."
Cordelia looked down. She did not want to use flattery, as her sisters had done. "Dear Father," she said, "I love you as a child should—no more, no less."
Lear was angry now. "Explain yourself, or you may live to regret it!"
"Sir, I obey, love, and honor you as a daughter should," answered Cordelia. "Why do my sisters have husbands if they say they love you only? If I marry, it’s only fair that my husband take half my love with him."
"So young and so hard-hearted?" said her father, stunned.
"So young and true, my lord," replied Cordelia.
"Then let truth be your dowry," raged Lear. "You are no longer my daughter. I looked forward to your care and affection in my old age, but now I disown you!"
Cordelia stared at her father, devastated by his words.
"Your share of the kingdom," the king went on, "will be divided between your sisters and their husbands."
Lear took off his crown and motioned to Albany and Cornwall to step forward. "Take this, for you are now my sons and will rule the land together." To Goneril and Regan, he said, "All that is mine is now yours, except for one hundred knights, whom I shall keep to attend to me. And I shall come live with each of you in turn for one month at a time."
At that moment, the Earl of Kent, Lear’s most loyal nobleman, stepped forward. "My lord," he said, "you’re behaving rashly. Your youngest daughter certainly does not love you least. I beg you, reconsider your decision."
"Do not come between the dragon and his wrath!" cried Lear. "How dare you? I have spoken, and yet, you want me to go back on my word? You are banished, Kent! If you are found in England ten days from now, you will be put to death!"
Kent bowed his head. "Then fare thee well, my lord." To Cordelia, he said, "May the gods look after you—you spoke fairly and truthfully." He turned to Goneril and Regan. "And I hope your deeds will match your fancy speeches." Bidding everyone good-bye, Kent left the castle.
There was one more matter to be resolved that day. Cordelia, the only daughter who wasn’t married, had two suitors at court: the Duke of Burgundy and the king of France. Lear called them in.
"Lord Burgundy," he said, "do you still want my daughter? She has lost my love and her dowry."
"Give her back the lands you promised her, and I’ll marry her," replied the duke.
But Lear would not change his mind.
"Then I am sorry," said the duke to Cordelia. "Having lost a father, you must also lose a husband."
"What has she done that you would disown your most beloved daughter?" the king of France asked.
Cordelia spoke. "Sir, my offense was simply that I would rather show my love to my father than speak of it."
"Is that all?" said the king of France. He truly loved Cordelia; he did not care that she had lost her third of the kingdom. "Come with me to France, Cordelia," he said gently, "and be my queen."
Cordelia turned to Goneril and Regan. "You are my sisters, so I do not want to speak badly of you. But knowing you both the way I do, I fear for my father’s welfare. Still, try to love him well."
"Don’t tell us our duty," Goneril snapped back.
The king of France then took Cordelia’s arm. "Come, dearest. We shall leave for France tonight." And they left the great hall.
Goneril drew Regan aside. "Sister," she whispered, "I think our father will be coming to stay with me tonight. So you and I need to talk now. You see how strange he’s acting? He always loved our sister the most, and now he’s rejected her. And he banished Kent too! It must be his age. He’s going to be nothing but trouble."
"And it’s only going to get worse as he grows older," muttered Regan.
"We must do something about him," her sister said. "And we must act fast."
Also present in the great hall was Edmund, a handsome young man who had watched Lear disinherit Cordelia. Her situation reminded him of his own. Edmund was the younger—and illegitimate—son of the Earl of Gloucester, a trusted friend of Lear. The earl had an older son, Edgar, who was his legal heir. "The law says I shall never inherit anything from my father either," thought Edmund. "That is not fair. I’m just as brave and clever as my brother. In fact, I’m more clever. Because I have a plan to become my father’s only son and heir—I shall get rid of Edgar!"