“Gon. I would you would make use of your good wis dom, whereof I know you are fraught; and put away these dispositions, which of late transport you from what you rightly are.” The altercation becomes warmer, the daughter's accu sations more pointed and offensive.
Her father's changed
dispositions are “new pranks,” his knights, “debosh'd and bold,” infecting the court with their lewd and riotous man
ners. The king is commanded, rather than requested, to apply the remedy by diminishing and reforming his train. If he does not, Goneril will do it herself—“will take the
thing she begs.” The impression left on the mind is, that Goneril's accusations are well founded; urged, indeed, with out affection, or sense of gratitude or duty, or even of that decent forbearance towards the failings of the old king,
which a good woman would have felt had she not been his daughter. Hitherto only the hard selfishness of Gone ril's character has been developed ; its dark malignancy is unfolded by future events. However, she has struck her old father on the heart with harsh and bitter words,
and his changing moods are now fixed into one master passion. Delusion and incoherency and other features of
insanity are added as the disease subsequently develops itself; but incontrollable rage is nowhere more strongly ex pressed than in the execrations and curses which Lear
now hurls against his daughter.) Eloquent as his terrible curses are, they are without measure and frantic. his head,
He beats
“Oh, Lear, Lear, Lear ! Beat at this gate that let thy folly in, And thy dear judgment out !” He weeps, and is ashamed at the hot tears; he weeps for rage, and curses through his tears. He threatens to resume his kingly power, and adds to Goneril's other sel
