they refer to his dead daughter Cordelia, but I prefer to regard them as informing us of the fate of the poor Fool, whose life has been sacrificed to his fidelity.

It is but a natural conclusion, and in perfect harmony with the tragic incidents of the play. Such love, such unselfish devotion could not survive its object. It was inevitable. Life with such tragic memories would be impossible to endure. No. One fate encompassed them both. The gentle spirit of the faithful friend has gone before, and patiently waits for the poor tortured soul of his loved master to share the peace that he has found.

He that hath a little tiny wit,-
With heigh, ho, the wind and the rain;
Though the rain it raineth every day,
Oh the wind, the wind and the rain.


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