Act 2 Scene 3

Scene 3

[Enter Edgar.]

EDGAR  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 hairs 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 mortifièd 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.
[He exits.]

There is 1 Comment

I think the annotation remarking on how during this pandemic people paraded as those less fortunate to get away with not complying with mask mandates and other similar requirements was incredibly insightful and a great connection. There has been a very dismissive attitude towards those with pre-existing conditions during the pandemic and deaths have even been blamed on those who died for things that worsened their illness in an attempt to dismiss the seriousness of Covid, and we do see this same mentality of misunderstanding and taking advantage of others in the play.


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