Edg.
You are much deceiv'd: in nothing am I chang'd
But in my garments.

Glou.
Methinks you're better spoken.

Edg.
Come on, sir; here's the place:--stand still.--How fearful
And dizzy 'tis to cast one's eyes so low!
The crows and choughs that wing the midway air
Show scarce so gross as beetles: half way down
Hangs one that gathers samphire--dreadful trade!
Methinks he seems no bigger than his head:
The fishermen that walk upon the beach
Appear like mice; and yond tall anchoring bark,
Diminish'd to her cock; her cock a buoy
Almost too small for sight: the murmuring surge
That on the unnumber'd idle pebble chafes
Cannot be heard so high.--I'll look no more;
Lest my brain turn, and the deficient sight
Topple down headlong.

Glou.
Set me where you stand.

Edg.
Give me your hand:--you are now within a foot
Of th' extreme verge: for all beneath the moon