Template:Kel nothing from nothing

Lear: Now, behold these windy allowances
To whose young regulators
The storied mines of France and Burgundy
Once strove to submit; that airy scheme now lies abandoned.
Wherefore am I girdled around by these confounded dockets.
Must they exhaust me so?

Enter Cordelia, strumming on a lute.

Cordelia: ’Tis the point, Sirrah.
Lear: Fair Cordelia!
Cordelia: My Liege.
Lear: Maketh thou an offer —
Rid me of these papery ghosts!
What will you take? And at what price? Speak.
Cordelia: Nothing, my lord.
Lear: Nothing!
Cordelia: Nothing.
Lear: Nothing will come of nothing: speak again.
Cordelia: Well, pops, that’s hot air for you.