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The Philosophy of the Plays of Shakspere Unfolded by Bacon, Delia, 1811-1859



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'No _contraries_ hold more _antipathy_ than I, and such a knave,' he says to Cornwall, by way of explaining his apparently gratuitous attack upon the steward.

No one, indeed, who reads the play with any care, can doubt the poet's intention to incorporate into it, for some reason or other, and to bring out by the strongest conceivable contrasts, his study of loyalty and service, and especially of regal counsel, and his criticism of it, as it stood in his time in its most approved patterns. 'Such smiling rouges as these' ('that _bite_ the _holy cords atwain_').

'Smooth every _passion_
That in the _nature of their lord rebels_;
Bring oil to fire, snow _to their_ colder moods;
Revenge, affirm, and turn their halcyon beaks
With every _gale_ and _vary_ of their masters,
As _knowing nought_ like _dogs_ but--_following_.'

Such ruses as this would not, of course, be wanting in such a _time_ as that in which this piece was planned, if Edmund's word was, indeed, the true one. 'Know thou this, _men_ are as the time is.'

And even amidst the excitement and rough outrage of that scene--in which Gloster's trial is so summarily conducted, even in that so rude scene--the relation between the _guest_ and his _host_, and the relation of the _slave_ to his _owner_, is delicately and studiously touched, and the human claim in both is boldly advanced, in the face of an absolute authority, and _age_ and _personal dignity_ put in their claims also, and demand, even at such a moment, their full rights of reverence.

[_Re-enter servants with_ GLOSTER.]
_Regan_. Ingrateful fox! 'tis he.
_Cornwall_. Bind fast his _corky_ arms.
_Gloster_. What mean your graces?--Good my friends, _consider_.
_You are my guests_: do me no foul play, _friends_.
_Cornwall_. Bind him, I say.
_Regan_. Hard, hard:--O filthy traitor!
_Gloster_. Unmerciful lady as you are, I am none.
_Cornwall_. To this chair bind him:--Villain, thou shalt
find--[REGAN _plucks his beard_].
_Gloster_. By the KIND gods [_for these are the gods, whose
'Commission' is sitting here_]'tis most _ignobly_ done,
To pluck me by the beard.
_Regan_. So white, and such a traitor!
_Gloster_. Naughty lady,
_These hairs_, which thou dost ravish from my chin,
Will quicken and accuse thee.
_I am your host_:
With _robber hands_, my hospitable favours
You should not _ruffle_ thus.

Tied to the stake, questioned and cross-questioned, and insulted, finally, beyond even his faculty of endurance, he breaks forth, at last, in strains of indignation that overleap all arbitrary and conventional bounds, that are only the more terrible for having been so long suppressed. Kent himself, when he 'came between the dragon and his wrath,' was not so fierce.

_Cornwall_. Where hast thou sent the king?
_Gloster_. _To Dover_.
_Regan_. Wherefore
To Dover, was't thou not charged at peril?--
_Cornwall. Wherefore to Dover?_ Let him first answer that.
_Regan_. Wherefore _to Dover?_
_Gloster_. 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.

...

_Regan_. One side will mock another; the other too.
_Cornwall_. If you 'see vengeance.'
_Servant_. Hold your hand, my lord:
_I have served you ever since I was a child_;
But _better service_ have I never done you,
Than now _to bid you hold_.
_Regan_. How now, you _dog_?
_Servant_. If you did wear a beard upon your chin,
I'd shake it on this quarrel: _What do you mean_?