Date sent:        Tue, 30 Apr 1996 09:20:34 -0400

Joshua Horn
English 201

        In Shakespeare's King Lear, the character of King Lear is often portrayed as an old
        fool on the brink of dotage, but if the Lear is looked at in just a little bit
        different light, he transforms into a creature of cunning, devious and sly.

        The first scene I would like to address is when Lear proposes a contest to divide
        the land between his daughters based on which one loved him the most. Now, this is a
        fairly dim-witted plan if taken at face value, but if considered carefully, it was
        decidedly rigged. Goneril was given her share directly after speaking, as was Regan;
        both lots were equal in size and stature. This fact should have come as no surprise
        to us, in fact, the audience was informed of this in the very first lines of the
        play: KENT    I thought the king had more affected the Duke of Albany than Cornwall.

        GLOUCESTER      It did always seem so to us: but now, in the
        division of the kingdom, it appears not which of
        the dukes he values most; for equalities are so
        weighed, that curiosity in neither can make choice
        of either's moiety.
                                        (Ii 1-6)
So clearly from the outset, Lear had no intentions of foolishly dividing his lands by a
silly contest. Obviously, he planned to bestow the greatest portion upon Cordelia, so what
is Lear's purpose in this little deception? The only plausible explanation is that Lear had
an ulterior motive, to keep Cordelia, his baby, all to himself.

        Taking a strait interpretation of the contest, Lear is completely ignorant of his
        older daughters' personalities. For a father not to know the most basic nature of
        his children, especially children the age of his, is preposterous. If Lear though,
        knew his daughters, he could easily predict their responses. Assuredly they would
        flatter him to no ends in order to get a larger share. He would have Cordelia go
        last, so that by that time there would be nothing she could say to out do her
        sisters. Cordelia's only possible avenue would be to prove her complete and total
        devotion, something her sisters couldn't do since they were married. Cordelia would
        be forced to reject her two suitors and love her father completely, and forever. Or
        so that was Lear's plan.

        Cordelia must have, unless we assume she was completely oblivious to the world
        around her, saw what her father planned to do even as it was set into motion. She
        did the only thing that a girl could in that position, remained silent. When Lear
        repudiated this noiseless refusal, she was forced to flatly turn down her father. It
        is evident from her reply that this is indeed the case. CORDELIA        Good my
        lord, You have begot me, bred me, loved me: I Return those duties back as are right
        fit, Obey you, love you, and most honour you. Why have my sisters husbands, if they
        say They love you all? Haply, when I shall wed, That lord whose hand must take my
        plight shall carry Half my love with him, half my care and duty: Sure, I shall never
        marry like my sisters, To love my father all.
                                (Ii 95-104)

        At this denial, Lear goes into a rage,  Kent, seeing this explosion as a mere
        response to a slightly bruised ego, attempts to intervene. It is at this point that
        Lear alludes to his darker intention. KING LEAR       Peace, Kent! Come not between
        the dragon and his wrath. I loved her most, and thought to set my rest On her kind
        nursery. Hence, and avoid my sight!
                                                (Ii 121-124)
Kent unwittingly continues on his erroneous assumption, and is promptly banished.

        Lear has but one final chance to claim his daughter as his own. He strips her of all
        her wealth, title, and privileges, and calls in her suitors. The idea at this point
        would be that now, since she is so materially worthless, her suitors will withdraw,
        leaving her with nowhere to turn except to beg forgiveness from her father. This
        does indeed effect the Duke of Burgundy, as he declines to court her farther. The
        King of France though, asks what her offense was. Lear has no reply, he surely
        cannot tell of his plan, nor can he say the mere facts of the scene, them being so
        minor taken out of context. Before Lear can come up with a suitable reason to tell
        France, Cordelia saves herself by over-simplifying the situation: CORDELIA        I
        yet beseech your majesty,-- If for I want that glib and oily art, To speak and
        purpose not; since what I well intend, I'll do't before I speak,--that you make
        known It is no vicious blot, murder, or foulness, No unchaste action, or dishonour'd
        step, That hath deprived me of your grace and favour; But even for want of that for
        which I am richer, A still-soliciting eye, and such a tongue As I am glad I have
        not, though not to have it Hath lost me in your liking.
                                        (Ii 223-233)
 Upon hearing the bare essence of her "crime" France is appalled at the King's brutishness.
 Since France already has his own country, and relies not upon Lear as a superior, he has no
 real qualms about still taking her for his wife. Cordelia readily accepts.

        Lear, in a despicable act of spite, makes a speech, if not to frighten France away
        or Cordelia back, then to burn into her the complete hatred he is capable of; and so
        Lear uses the strongest curse a child can hear from a parent: KING LEAR       Thou
        hast her, France: let her be thine; for we Have no such daughter, nor shall ever see
        That face of hers again. Therefore be gone Without our grace, our love, our benison.
        Come, noble Burgundy.
                                        (Ii 262-266)
With that, Cordelia and France leave and do not return until the end of the story.

        The tale progresses as the consequences of Lear's failure rebound upon him,
        redoubling at every turn. Upon Cordelia's return with the French Army, and following
        loss, Lear's first words are still directly related to his plan: KING LEAR       No,
        no, no, no! Come, let's away to prison: We two alone will sing like birds i' the
        cage: ... so we'll live, And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh At gilded
        butterflies, and hear poor rogues Talk of court news; and we'll talk with them too,
        Who loses and who wins; who's in, who's out; And take upon's the mystery of things,
        As if we were God's spies: and we'll wear out, In a wall'd prison, packs and sects
        of great ones, That ebb and flow by the moon.
                                        (Vii 8-19)
Notice that Cordelia never responds to Lear, she cannot believe it. After everything that
they both have been through, he is still as single minded as ever. Lear at this point
doesn't appear to care whether she cares to talk back or not, as he continues: "...Have I
caught thee? /He that parts us shall bring a brand from heaven,"  (Viii 21-22) I believe the
answer to Lear's question is, yes; and Cordelia knows it, for as soon as Lear asks this, she
begins to cry. For all the trouble, for all the sorrow and wrecked lives that lay scattered
along the path that has been taken, they have ended up exactly where Lear put us in the
opening act, where Lear always wanted to be: with Cordelia. He could not win her through
cunning or by any other means that he had, and now Cordelia's sisters, her sweet, loving
sisters, have arranged it by force. Purposely? I think it can safely be said that this is
quite a nicely ironic ending, which can be attributed to the warped minds of Goneril and
Regan.

        After Cordelia's untimely death at the orders of Edmund, Lear is broken. After he
        had finally gained the long sought for prize, it was stripped away literally out of
        Lear's grasp. One might say that Cordelia had eluded him one final time. Lear has
        never taken defeat easily, and after failing to bring Cordelia back to him (again),
        he joins her. The close of the play, and it appears Lear has won. His wish has been
        granted, his dream fulfilled, as they will be remembered throughout the ages: Lear
        and Cordelia, together, Forever.

Bibliography

1. Shakespeare, William. King Lear. Ed. Alfred Harbage. New York: Penguin, 1986
Horn
