“O, that my tongue were in the thunder's mouth ! Then with a passion would I shake the world; And rouse from sleep that fell anatomy.” Pandulph tells her plainly that she is mad, and rouses that eloquent defence of her reason, in which she repeats the test of madness which Lear applies to himself, the recognition of personal identity, and in which she expresses the same idea of madness as a refuge from sorrow, which Gloster does.
“Pand. Lady, you utter madness, and not sorrow. Comst. Thou art not holy to belie me so ; I am not mad: this hair I tear, is mine;
My name is Constance; I was Geffrey's wife; Young Arthur is my son, and he is lost : I am not mad:—I would to heaven, I were !
For then, 'tis like, I should forget myself: O, if I could, what grief should I forget — Preach some philosophy to make me mad, And thou shalt be canoniz'd, cardinal;
For, being not mad, but sensible of grief, My reasonable part produces reason, How I may be deliver'd of these woes,
And teaches me to kill or hang myself: If I were mad, I should forget my son; Or madly think, a babe of clouts were he I am not mad: too well, too well I feel
The different plague of each calamity.” This supposed test of sanity, the preservation of the sense of personal identity, is used in the same manner by Sebastian in Twelfth Night, to assure himself that in the strange en joyment of Olivia's favours, he is neither dreaming nor doting.
“Seb. This is the air; that is the glorious sun : This pearl she gave me, I do feel 't, and see 't : And though 'tis wonder that enwraps me thus, Yet ’t is not madness.
Where 's Antonio then 2
I could not find him at the Elephant: Yet there he was ; and there I found this credit, That he did range the town to seek me out.
