Act IV, Scene iv:
The French camp. A Tent.

[Enter Cordelia, Physician, 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 harlocks, 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.

Phys.:

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.]