and hasty. But otherwise he is sharply contrasted with the tragic Lear, who is a towering figure, every inch a king,[1] while Gloster is built on a much smaller scale, and has infinitely less force and fire. He is, indeed, a decidedly weak though good-hearted man; and, failing wholly to support Kent in resisting Lear’s original folly and injustice,[2] he only gradually takes the better part. Nor is his character either very interesting or very distinct. He often gives one the impression of being wanted mainly to fill a place in the scheme of the play; and, though it would be easy to give a long list of his characteristics, they scarcely, it seems to me, compose an individual, a person whom we are sure we should recognise at once. If this is so, the fact is curious, considering how much we see and hear of him.
I will add a single note. Gloster is the superstitious character of the drama,—the only one. He thinks much of ‘these late eclipses in the sun and moon.’ His two sons, from opposite points of view, make nothing of them. His easy acceptance of the calumny against Edgar is partly due to this weakness, and Edmund builds upon it, for an evil purpose, when he describes Edgar thus:
Mumbling of wicked charms, conjuring the moon,
To prove’s auspicious mistress.
- ↑ Imagination demands for Lear, even more than for Othello, majesty of stature and mien. Tourgénief felt this and made his ‘Lear of the Steppes’ a gigantic peasant. If Shakespeare’s texts give no express authority for ideas like these, the reason probably is that he wrote primarily for the theatre, where the principal actor might not be a large man.
- ↑ He is not present, of course, till France and Burgundy enter; but while he is present he says not a word beyond ‘Here’s France and Burgundy, my noble lord.’ For some remarks on the possibility that Shakespeare imagined him as having encouraged Lear in his idea of dividing the kingdom see Note T. It must be remembered that Cornwall was Gloster’s ‘arch and patron.’
tenderly and entirely loves him’—that Gloster loved neither of his sons, is surely an entire mistake. See, not to speak of general impressions, III. iv. 171 ff.
