The Same. A Tent. |
| |
Enter with drum and colours, CORDELIA, Doctor, and Soldiers. |
| Cor. Alack! 'tis he: why, he was met even now |
| As mad as the vex'd sea; singing aloud; |
| Crown'd with rank fumiter and furrow weeds, |
| With burdocks, hemlock, nettles, cuckoo-flowers, |
| Darnel, and all the idle weeds that grow |
| In our sustaining corn. A century send forth; |
| Search every acre in the high-grown field, |
| And bring him to our eye. [Exit an Officer. |
| What can man's wisdom |
| In the restoring his bereaved sense? |
| He that helps him take all my outward worth. |
| Phy. There is means, madam; |
| Our foster-nurse of nature is repose, |
| The which he lacks; that to provoke in him, |
| Are many simples operative, whose power |
| Will close the eye of anguish. |
| Cor. All bless'd secrets, |
| All you unpublish'd virtues of the earth, |
| Spring with my tears! be aidant and remediate |
| In the good man's distress! Seek, seek for him, |
| Lest his ungovern'd rage dissolve the life |
| That wants the means to lead it. |
| |
Enter a Messenger. |
| Mess. News, madam; |
| The British powers are marching hitherward. |
| Cor. 'Tis known before; our preparation stands |
| In expectation of them. O dear father! |
| It is thy business that I go about; |
| Therefore great France |
| My mourning and important tears hath pitied, |
| No blown ambition doth our arms incite, |
| But love, dear love, and our ag'd father's right, |
| Soon may I hear and see him! [Exeunt. |
Design © 1995-2007 ZeFLIP.com All rights reserved.