The following work is done by Catherine M. and Jane H. :)
Lines 1-34

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;
Crowned 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 ourward worth.

CORDELIA Oh, it’s him! They saw him just now, as mad as the stormy sea, singing out loud, wearing a crown made of all kinds of weeds and cuckoo flowers that grow in the cornfields. Send out a hundred men to find him. Search everywhere in the fields, and bring him to us.
(an Officer exits) What can I do to restore his sanity? I will give everything I have to whoever helps him.



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.

Doctor There is a solution, ma’am. Nature heals people with rest, which he did not have enough.
There are many herbs that can help him rest and calm down his angry mind.



CORDELIA All blest secrets,
All you unpublish'd virtues of the earth,
Spring with my tears! be aidantand 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)

CORDELIA What a blessing to learn the unknown power of nature. Let my tears water all the needed herbs! And let those heal my father’s distress! Go, search for him, before his anger puts his life in danger.
(Enter a Messenger)



Messenger News, madam; The British powers are marching hitherward.

Messenger I have a news, ma’am. The British crew is on its way here.


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 my I hear and see him!
(Exeunt)

CORDELIA We already expected that. And we are ready for them. Oh, my dear father! It is for you that I am standing here. And that’s why my husband listened to my pleas and tears. We start this mannagge not because of ambition, but because of love—dear love!—and for my old father’s rights to his turf. I hope I hear him and see him soon! (Exit)