A king of shreds and patches.

A wandering minstrel I - / A thing of shreds and patches.

I will do such things,--
What they are, yet I know not: but they shall be
The terrors of the earth.

With base? with baseness? bastardy? base, base?

Yet I am doubtful, for I am mainly ignorant. What place this is, and all the skill I have
Remembers not these garments. Nor I know not
Where I did lodge last night. Do not laugh at me,
For as I am a man, I think this lady
To be my child Cordelia.

The gods are fair, and they use our little vices to punish us