A Part of the Heath. |
| |
Enter EDGAR. |
| Edg. I heard myself proclaim'd; |
| And by the happy hollow of a tree |
| Escap'd the hunt. No port is free; no place, |
| That guard, and most unusual vigilance, |
| Does not attend my taking. While I may 'scape |
| I will preserve myself; and am bethought |
| To take the basest and most poorest shape |
| That ever penury, in contempt of man, |
| Brought near to beast; my face I'll grime with filth, |
| Blanket my loins, elf all my hair in knots, |
| And with presented nakedness outface |
| The winds and persecutions of the sky. |
| The country gives me proof and precedent |
| Of Bedlam beggars, who with roaring voices, |
| Strike in their numb'd and mortified bare arms |
| Pins, wooden pricks, nails, sprigs of rosemary; |
| And with this horrible object, from low farms, |
| Poor pelting villages, sheep-cotes, and mills, |
| Sometime with lunatic bans, sometime with prayers, |
| Enforce their charity. Poor Turlygood! poor Tom! |
| That's something yet: Edgar I nothing am. [Exit. |
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