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publicly declaring the extent of her love for Lear,
Cordelia refuses to play the game, relying instead
on her adherence to a daughter’s duty. “I love Your
Majesty / According to my bond,” she declares,
“no more nor less” (1.1.92–93). Her rejection of
extravagant flattery may have a second purpose: to
bring Lear to his senses. A father should not expect
his daughter to love him more than her husband;
nor should a king trifle with his kingdom, offering
it up to the greatest flatterer. Her truthfulness is
rewarded with exile and the loss of her father’s love.
For speaking out on behalf of Cordelia, Kent suffers
a similar punishment. He rightly claims that the
good servant has a duty to advise his master when
he believes an unjust or unwise decision has been
made, but he finds himself banished for his efforts,
on pain of death.
Neither Kent nor Cordelia abandons their duty
to Lear. Risking death, Kent takes on the disguise
of “Caius” and offers his service to the old king. He
remains by Lear’s side, defending his honor against
insult, protecting him from his enemies, comforting
him in the storm, and even preparing to follow him
in death. Additionally, Kent has informed Corde-
lia of her sisters’ cruelty to their father, prompting
her departure for England with a French army.
Her actions are taken not for political gain but to
redeem the much-wronged Lear. When he awakens
in the French camp, his mind clearing, he is met not
with reproof but with unconditional love. Cordelia
has surpassed the simple duties that she claimed a
daughter owes her father, and Lear is duly humbled.
Lesser characters in the play are also linked to
the theme of responsibility as duty. The Fool fulfills
his duty both by entertaining Lear and by speaking
the truth about the king’s errors and his worsening
situation. Like Kent, Cornwall’s servant speaks out
when his master is about to make a grievous error in
the cruel blinding of Gloucester, and he pays for his
honesty with his life. By contrast, the captain has no
such qualms; he intends to obey Edmund’s orders
to slay the imprisoned Cordelia and Lear without
question.
Edgar, too, fulfills his duties to his father. When,
as Poor Tom, he is asked to lead the blinded
Gloucester to the edge of a cliff, he devises an elabo-
rate ruse to convince his suicidal father that life itself
is a miracle, and that as long as one breathes, there is
hope. When he learns that his companion is his son,
Gloucester’s heart “burst smilingly.” He dies with his
hope restored, and Edgar has saved his father’s soul
from eternal damnation.
Through suffering, Gloucester is held account-
able for his past actions. In the play’s opening scene,
Gloucester introduces his illegitimate son, Edmund,
to Kent. He is clearly embarrassed by this evidence
of his adultery, and his bawdy remarks aim at throw-
ing the responsibility onto Edmund’s mother, who
“grew round-wombed and had indeed, sir, a son
for her cradle ere she had a husband for her bed”
(1.1.14–16). Similarly, the superstitious Gloucester
blames the heavens, not the king’s bad judgment,
for the discord between Lear and Cordelia and for
the banishment of Kent, and he is so moved by
these unnatural quarrels that Edmund easily dupes
him into believing that Edgar is conspiring to kill
him. Blinded and in despair over his mistreatment
of his elder son, Gloucester attributes his woes to
“the gods.” It is left to Edgar, at the end of the play,
to recognize his father’s responsibility for the harsh
consequences he has suffered. The gods, he notes,
“Make instruments to plague us” (5.3.172) out of
our pleasurable vices; just so, Gloucester’s adultery
created Edmund, the cause of his ruin.
Lear must also come to terms with his respon-
sibility for the suffering of himself and others. His
last misguided acts as king—dividing the kingdom,
believing the flattery of Goneril and Regan, disown-
ing Cordelia, and banishing Kent—are all ultimately
acts against himself. As monarch, Lear has been able
to command the respect and obedience of others.
What he seems not to realize is that, in giving up
his power, he will lose the esteem of most of his
subjects, including his ungrateful daughters. His
dream of relinquishing the monarch’s responsibili-
ties but retaining his honor and privileges is mere
fantasy. It is not long before he acknowledges his
misjudgment of Cordelia: “I did her wrong” (1.5.23),
he admits after leaving Goneril’s palace in a rage. As
he suffers the physical brutality of the storm, Lear
comes to terms with his own humanity. Stripped of
the privileges of rank, he suffers hunger and cold
and recognizes that he, too, is “no more but such a
poor, forked, bare animal” (3.4.107–108) as the mad