Strong as her language has been on her father's constant wrongs to her, and his 'gross crimes, Goneril attri butes them to the effects of dotage, and appears to entertain no suspicion that real madness is threatening. It is not till long after—in the third act, when Glo'ster is “ tied to the stake"—that the old king's insanity is recognized by one of his ungrateful daughters; Regan asking— “To whose hands have you sent the lunatic king '" Soon after Goneril's exposition of the terrain; Lear enters from hunting, hungry and impatient— “Let me not stay a jot for dinner, go get it ready.” A collected conversation with disguised Kent follows, and then the steward appears to put upon him the predeter mined insolent negligence, which his mistress had given him instructions for. Lear, in his magnanimity, does but half see it, and requires to have his attention directed to it by the knight, whose keener observation has remarked the great abatement of kindness, and lack of ceremonious attention, which has been latterly shewn to his master. The king has seen it too, but had rather blamed his own jealous curiosity, than permitted himself to think the un kindness was intentional.
Even now he throws off the
thought lightly, and calls eagerly for (that strange being, that wonderful medley of wit and philosophy, of real affec tion and artificial
folly) “my
fool!” whom he loves none
the less for his attachment to disgraced Cordelia. “Knight. Since my young lady's going into France the fool hath much pined away. Lear. No more of that, I have noted it well.” Silent repentance for his rash and cruel treatment of this
well-loved daughter hath already touched the old man's heart. But the transitions of feeling are more rapid than the changes of sunshine and shade in an April day. In
