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King Lear
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  • ACT IV SCENE IV

    
     Dramatis Personae 
     Act I   Scene I 
     Act I   Scene II 
     Act I   Scene III 
     Act I   Scene IV 
     Act I   Scene V 
     Act II  Scene I 
     Act II  Scene II
     Act II  Scene III 
     Act II  Scene IV 
     Act III Scene I
     Act III Scene II 
     Act III Scene III
     Act III Scene IV
    
     Act III Scene V 
     Act III Scene VI 
     Act III Scene VII 
     Act IV  Scene I  
     Act IV  Scene II 
     Act IV  Scene III 
     Act IV  Scene IV 
     Act IV  Scene V 
     Act IV  Scene VI 
     Act IV  Scene VII 
     Act V   Scene I 
     Act V   Scene II 
     Act V   Scene III 
     Complete play


     Act IV 

    
    ACT IV: SCENE IV	The same. A tent.

    
    	Enter, with drum and colours, CORDELIA, Doctor, and Soldiers
    
    CORDELIA	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 bur-docks, 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.
    
    Doctor	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.
    
    CORDELIA	All blest 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
    
    Messenger	News, madam;
    	The British powers are marching hitherward.
    
    CORDELIA	'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 aged father's right:
    	Soon may I hear and see him!
    
    	Exeunt
    
    
    

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