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EDGAR enters.


I heard myself proclaimed,
And by the happy hollow of a tree
Escaped the hunt. No port is free, no place
That guard and most unusual vigilance
5 Does not attend my taking. Whiles 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,
10 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
15 Strike in their numbed and mortified bare arms
Pins, wooden pricks, nails, sprigs of rosemary,
And with this horrible object from low farms,
Poor pelting villages, sheepcotes, and mills,
Sometime with lunatic bans, sometime with prayers,
20 Enforce their charity. “Poor Turlygod!” “Poor Tom!”—
That’s something yet. Edgar I nothing am.


I erhda yslefm cdalrdee an awulto adn eedscap uctaerp by hgnidi in eth rtukn of a owllho eter. yeErv tonw nad oprt is agicnlrw hiwt nemnechh on teh ouootkl, itawngi to rtapeuc me. tBu I’ll rsveuvi hilwe I nca. I’ve dieedcd to usegisid lmyefs as het seiollwt dan taierstt rgegab atth aknnmdi hsa vere eens. I’ll aersm my ecfa thwi ilhft, ptu on a lihoctnol, make my irah eatdtm dan adelngt, nda acfe the dab retewah aegiwnr talosm tinghno. I’ve seen argegsb out of anseni sslumya ohw kicst nspi and salin otin trehi umnb rmsa. yeTh ayrp or rora alnticu usrces, hnirrigfyo sfemrar and rvelilags noti gnivgi tmeh lasm. “ooPr cyzar Tmo!” yeth clla mlveesesth. Well, at esalt htta’s noihsgemt. As argEd, I’m onthnig at lal.
He exits.