Lear. Inform’d them! Dost thou understand me, man?
Gloucester. Ay, my good lord.
Lear. The King would speak with Cornwall; the dear father
Would with his daughter speak; commands her service:
Are they inform’d of this?—My breath and blood!
Fiery? the fiery Duke? Tell the hot Duke that—
No, but not yet: may be he is not well:—
—King Lear, Act ii., Sc. 4.
and he then proceeds to find excuses for her action, and that of her husband, the Duke of Cornwall. There is hardly a more pathetic incident in a most pathetic play than this, in which the old man, past his eightieth year, after holding undisputed sway through his long reign, is at last compelled to temporize. He is about to send a message to the Duke, the character of which is easily judged from his previous language. If that message is sent, Lear will be alone in the world. But suddenly his fearful position flashes upon him. The threat dies upon his lips, gradually blending into apology and conciliation.