were in her eyes; which parted thence, As pearls from diamonds dropp'd. In brief, Sorrow would be a rarity most beloved, If all could so become it. Made she no verbal question? 'Faith, once or twice she heaved the name of 'father' Pantingly forth, as if it press'd her heart: Cried 'Sisters! sisters! Shame of ladies! sisters! Kent! father! sisters! What, i' the storm? i' the night? Let pity not be believed!' There she shook The holy water from her heavenly eyes, And clamour moisten'd: then away she started To deal with grief alone. It is the stars, The stars above us, govern our conditions; Else one self mate and mate could not beget Such different issues. You spoke not with her since? No. Was this before the king return'd? No, since. Well, sir, the poor distressed Lear's i' the town; Who sometime, in his better tune, remembers What we are come about, and by no means Will yield to see his daughter. Why, good sir? A sovereign shame so elbows him: his own unkindness, That stripp'd her from his benediction, turn'd her To foreign casualties, gave her dear rights To his dog-hearted daughters, these things sting His mind so venomously, that burning shame Detains him from Cordelia. Alack, poor gentleman! Of Albany's and Cornwall's powers you heard not? 'Tis so, they are afoot. Well, sir, I'll bring you to our master Lear, And leave you to attend him: some dear cause Will in concealment wrap me up awhile; When I am known aright, you shall not grieve Lending me this acquaintance. I pray you, go Along with me. 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. What can man's wisdom In the restoring his bereaved sense? He that helps him take all my outward worth. 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. 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.