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.