[Footnote 159:  I must however point out that the modern stage-directions are most unfortunate in concealing the fact that here Cordelia sees her father again for the first time.  See Note W.]

[Footnote 160:  What immediately follows is as striking an illustration of quite another quality, and of the effects which make us think of Lear as pursued by a relentless fate.  If he could go in and sleep after his prayer, as he intends, his mind, one feels, might be saved:  so far there has been only the menace of madness.  But from within the hovel Edgar—­the last man who would willingly have injured Lear—­cries, ‘Fathom and half, fathom and half!  Poor Tom!’; the Fool runs out terrified; Edgar, summoned by Kent, follows him; and, at sight of Edgar, in a moment something gives way in Lear’s brain, and he exclaims: 

                          Hast thou given all
     To thy two daughters?  And art thou come to this?

Henceforth he is mad.  And they remain out in the storm.

I have not seen it noticed that this stroke of fate is repeated—­surely intentionally—­in the sixth scene.  Gloster has succeeded in persuading Lear to come into the ‘house’; he then leaves, and Kent after much difficulty induces Lear to lie down and rest upon the cushions.  Sleep begins to come to him again, and he murmurs,

     ’Make no noise, make no noise; draw the curtains; so, so, so. 
     We’ll go to supper i’ the morning.  So, so, so.’

At that moment Gloster enters with the news that he has discovered a plot to kill the King; the rest that ’might yet have balm’d his broken senses’ is again interrupted; and he is hurried away on a litter towards Dover. (His recovery, it will be remembered, is due to a long sleep artificially induced.)]

[Footnote 161:  III. iv. 49.  This is printed as prose in the Globe edition, but is surely verse.  Lear has not yet spoken prose in this scene, and his next three speeches are in verse.  The next is in prose, and, ending, in his tearing off his clothes, shows the advance of insanity.]

[Footnote 162:  [Lear’s death is thus, I am reminded, like pere Goriot’s.] This interpretation may be condemned as fantastic, but the text, it appears to me, will bear no other.  This is the whole speech (in the Globe text): 

     And my poor fool is hang’d!  No, no, no life! 
     Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life,
     And thou no breath at all?  Thou’lt come no more,
     Never, never, never, never, never! 
     Pray you, undo this button:  thank you, sir. 
     Do you see this?  Look on her, look, her lips,
     Look there, look there!

The transition at ‘Do you see this?’ from despair to something more than hope is exactly the same as in the preceding passage at the word ‘Ha!’: 

     A plague upon you, murderers, traitors all! 
     I might have saved her; now she’s gone for ever! 
     Cordelia, Cordelia, stay a little. 
     Ha! 
     What is’t thou say’st?  Her voice was ever soft,
     Gentle, and low, an excellent thing in woman.