The Rising Pathos of King Lear MRS. ELEANOR TAFT STONE, SPRINGFIELD, MISSOURI. P ATHOS is a quality of distinguishing that presentation of life which awakens a sense of pity; yet it is distinguishable from that sense in this important aspect: those whom we pity we seek to relieve. There is usually some act of kindness we may discover to do for them, but in scenes of deepest pathos we have to wait on the workings of unseen powers. We love the agony of pathos. It is fundamental in us to do so. It makes us kind to all mankind from Genesis to the present day. Knowledge of the pain of one hour of misery in some noble life is enough to stir most exquisite emotions of sympathy and tenderness. Therefore, it is proof of the singleness and greatness of his art that Shakespeare is able to give us, in King Lear, the tremendous effect of the result of accumulated suffering and experiences by many noble characters. Gloster is vexed with the times (1) and credulous (2) beyond the limits of a really strong-minded parent, yet not to be condemned outright. His great mistake is in being outwitted by an ambitious person, more intellectual than he. This circumstance was facilitated by the natural relationship between him and Edmund. Son of his own flesh; comely and agreeable (3), and by his confession as dear as the legitimate Edgar. (3). Since wise old Lear is not proof against the avaricious schemes of his shrewd daughters, is it so strange that the less discerning Gloster falls gullible and foolish? Evidence of his desire to repudiate the horrible idea of Edgar's quiet is here, "To his father, that so tenderly and entirely loves him," (4) and in the fact that he blames the stars (5), the dispensers of fate, and the mainspring of unfathomable evils. He is fundamentally good and true, for he voluntarily subjects himself to the sensed consequences of a vile and ungovernable temper to spare his loved friend, Lear. Offering himself, the sacrifice, he explains to Regan, "Because I would not see thy cruel nails. Pluck out his poor old eyes, nor thy fierce sister In his anointed flesh stick boarish fangs." (6) The later attempt to take his own life follows on disappointment and disillusionment. He is a simple man in a particularly dark hour. He is a derelict by the command of Lear's children, blind, helpless and remorseful. His prayer reveals weariness of life and compunction, "O you mighty Gods! To quarrel with your great opposeless wills, Burn itself out. If Edgar live, O bless him!" (7) From this on, we wait for Gloster's final release from suffering, and we know that it will soon be well with him. The beauty of his character had never been developed as it might have been. Edgar is not unlike his father. The unscrupulous Edmund describes him Whose nature is so far from doing harms His lack in intellectual endowment is obscured by a keen insight into the evolution of natural laws. As the degraded beggar he serves his friends in their extremities, understanding their distresses and forgetting his own in those same offices. Deep philosophy flows from his soliloquy, "When we our betters see bearing our woes, We scarcely think our miseries our foes." (9) Far from being dispossessed of his composure by the sight of Gloster's bleeding eye-sockets he laments reasonably, "World, world, O world! But that thy strange mutations make us hate thee, Comforting the mourning and discourgement of his old father when the news comes of the capture of Lear and Cordelia, he offers, "Men must endure Their going hence, even as their coming hither; The wearied father assents, "And that's true, too." (12) One of Edgar's finest moments is that in which he makes himself known to Edmund. They clear up the doubts and deceits, but Edgar makes no personal comment on the injustice to him. There is no suggestion of malice in these words, "The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices Lear's sorrows must have been greatly compensated in the loyalty of his friends, had he been able to appreciate their expressions of sympathy and free-willingness to serve. Kent's intervention could have prevented the king's mis-step had Lear known it. His professions are unselfish and genuine, "Royal Lear, Whom I have ever honour'd as my king, Lov'd as my father, as my master follow'd, As my great patron thought on in my prayers," (14) "My life I never held but as a pawn To wage against thy enemies, nor fear to lose it, Thy safety being the motive." (15) In the disguise of a menial, serving and guarding his master's interests, he finds opportunity to bind the unravelled ties of affection between Cordelia and her erring parent with secret messages to her of Lear's state and circumstances; (14, 15) and he follows his lord into the storm. Tenderly and persuasively he leads him to shelter, "Alas, sir, are you here? Things that love night Love not such nights as these." (16) Quickly appreciative of Lear's maddened condition, he urges the necessity of the moment on the well-meaning, if stupid, Gloster with, "God my lord, soothe him; let him take the fellow." (17) Finally, after he has brought the reunion of Cordelia and Lear to the eve of its fulfilment, she will have him name his reward. The simple phrasing of his answer is modest and restrained, "To be acknowledg'd, madam, is o'erpaid." (18) Kent has a parallel in the fool, whose ministrations though differing in kind, are yet equivalent in substance. His whimsicalities distract the harassed Lear's attention from himself, but are opportune and not inharmonious with the king's mood. Urging his fop on Lear he banters as he soothes, "Would I had two coxcombs and two daughters!" (19) "There take my coxcomb." Is there wisdom and prophecy in his improvised jingle? "That, sir, which serves and seeks for gain, And follows but for form, Will pack when it begins to rain, And leave thee in the storm. But I will tarry; the fool will stay, The knave turns fool that runs away; A fine sense of fitness of things directs him away from the scene when his usefulness is over. (21) Singularly different and most pathetically sweet is Cordelia, the only lovely woman in the play. Her refinement is in strong contrast with all the other characters, excepting Lear, of whom she is the inalienable part. He cannot tear her out of his life, nor will she agree to it. Their separation is due to difference in point of view. But of all, she knows the hypocrisy of her sisters. She scorns to be like them. Reverence, consistency, and truth are in her unadorned statement, "Good my lord, You have begot me, bred me, lov'd me; I Obey you, love you, and most honour you.” (22) and fortitude of spirit with which she faces the renuncia-tion (voluntary for Lear and involuntary for her), and says,. "I yet beseech your majesty, For that I want that glib and oily art To speak and purpose not, since what I well intend It is no vicious blot, nor other foulness, No unchaste action, or dishonour'd step, That hath depriv'd me of your grace and favour, A still-soliciting eye, and such a tongue Her Her From first to last, nothing mars her flawlessness. quiet determination sees right and justice prevail. direction brings France to Dover, and, eventually, Lear to her arms. There as she weeps like his "child Cordelia" (24), she finds the words "No cause, no cause!" (25) and in them, simple and unaffected as her life, the tired and troubled old. sad king sees peace and truth and happiness. |