226 
SHAKESPEARE’S GARDEN 
A lily-livered, action-taking knave. 
II. ii. 18. 
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 Turlygod ! poor Tom ! 
That’s something yet: Edgar I nothing am. 
II. iii. 13. 
Lear. Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks ! rage ! blow ! 
You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout 
Till you have drench’d our steeples, drown’d the cocks ! 
You sulphurous and thought-executing fires, 
Vaunt-couriers to oak-cleaving thunderbolts, 
Singe my white head ! And thou all-shaking thunder, 
Strike flat the thick rotundity o’ the world ! 
Crack nature’s moulds, all germens spill at once, 
That make ingrateful man ! 
III. ii. 1. 
Edg. Still through the sharp hawthorn blows the wind. 
III. iv. 102. 
Edg. This is the foul fiend Flibbertigibbet : he begins at 
curfew, and walks to the first cock ; he gives the web and 
the pin, squints the eye, and makes the hare-lip ; mildews the 
white wheat, and hurts the poor creature of earth. 
III.iv. 120. 
Edg. Sleepest or wakest thou, jolly shepherd ? 
Thy sheep be in the corn; 
And for one blast of thy miniken mouth, 
Thy sheep shall take no harm. 
III. vi. 43. 
Reg. Ingrateful fox ! ’tis he. 
Corn. Bind fast his corky arms. 
III. vii. 27. 
3 rd Sew. Go thou: I’ll fetch some flax and whites of 
eggs 
To apply to his bleeding face. Now, heaven help him ! 
III. vii, 106. 
