The court waits while Lear divides the map before him.

LEAR: Tell me, my daughters, which of you shall we say doth love us most?
GONERIL: Sir, I love you more than words can wield the matter.
REGAN: I am alone felicitate in your dear highness' love.
LEAR: Now, our joy, although our last and least, what can you say to draw a third more opulent than your sisters?
CORDELIA: Nothing, my lord.
LEAR: Nothing?
CORDELIA: Nothing.
LEAR: Nothing will come of nothing. Speak again.
CORDELIA: Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave my heart into my mouth.
KENT: Good my liege.
