Lear: Goneril, how much do you love me?
Goneril: I love you so much, my liege, that your government should let us file our taxes jointly.
Lear: And, Regan, how much do you love me?
Regan: Not only does my love for you rightfully deserve a joint tax-filing, my liege, it deserves all the other 1,138 benefits as well right down to the special benefits for Widows of the Spanish-American War.
Lear: And, Cordelia, my dearest fool, how much do you love me?
Cordelia: I am, my liege, at a loss to know how one measures love in terms of legal and financial benefits and so choose to say nothing.