King Lear

by William Shakespeare

EDMUND Thou, nature, art my goddess: to thy law My services are bound. Wherefore2 should I Stand in3 the plague of custom and permit The curiosity of nations4 to deprive me For that I am some twelve or fourteen moonshines5 Lag of a brother? Why bastard? Wherefore base6? When my dimensions are as well compact7, My mind as generous, and my shape as true8, As honest madam’s issue9? Why brand they us With base? With baseness? Bastardy? Base, base? Who in the lusty stealth of nature take11 More composition and fierce quality12 Than doth within a dull, stale, tirèd bed, Go to th’creating a whole tribe of fops14 Got15 ’tween a sleep and wake? Well then, Legitimate Edgar, I must have your land: Our father’s love is to the bastard Edmund As18 to th’legitimate — fine word, ‘legitimate’ — Well, my legitimate, if this letter speed19 And my invention20 thrive, Edmund the base Shall to th’legitimate21. I grow, I prosper: Now, gods, stand up for bastards!