King Lear (Folio 1, 1623)
Not Peer Reviewed
¶
Enter Edgar.
¶And by the happy hollow of a Tree,
¶Escap'd the hunt. No Port is free, no place
¶Do's not attend my taking. Whiles I may scape
¶That euer penury in contempt of man,
1260Brought neere to beast; my face Ile grime with filth,
¶Blanket my loines, elfe all my haires in knots,
¶The Country giues me proofe, and president
1265Of Bedlam beggers, who with roaring voices,
¶Strike in their num'd and mortified Armes.
¶Pins, Wodden-prickes, Nayles, Sprigs of Rosemarie:
¶And with this horrible obiect, from low Farmes,
¶Poore pelting Villages, Sheeps-Coates, and Milles,
1270Sometimes with Lunaticke bans, sometime with Praiers
¶Inforce their charitie: poore Turlygod poore Tom,
¶That's something yet: Edgar I nothing am.
Exit.