Act. Ill Sc. IV.
Poor naked wretches, wheresoever you are,
That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm,
How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides,
Your looped and windowed raggedness, defend you
From seasons such as these ? O, I have ta'en
Too little care of this ! Take physic, pomp ;
Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel,
That thou niay'st shake the superflux to them,
And show the heavens more just. 33
Act. iv. Sc. i.
Here, take this purse, thou whom the heavens* plagues
Have humbled to all strokes : that I am wretched
Makes thee the happier - heavens, deal so still !
Let the superfluous and lust-dieted man
That slaves your ordinance, that will not see
Because lie cloth not feel, fell your power quickly;
So distribution should undo fexcess,
And each man have enough : 34
