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Skuespill: Lear, ACT III, SCENE II. Another part of the heath. Storm still.
KING LEAR: My wits begin to turn.
Come on, my boy: how dost, my boy? art cold?
I am cold myself. Where is this straw, my fellow?
The art of our necessities is strange,
That can make vile things precious. Come,
your hovel.
Poor fool and knave, I have one part in my heart
That's sorry yet for thee.

Skuespill: Lear, ACT III, SCENE II. Another part of the heath. Storm still.
Fool: Singing
He that has and a little tiny wit--
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,--
Must make content with his fortunes fit,
For the rain it raineth every day.

Skuespill: Lear, ACT III, SCENE II. Another part of the heath. Storm still.
KING LEAR: True, my good boy. Come, bring us to this hovel.