Had scarcely fill’d her horns, when by her light
A band of merry mad-caps from the town
Rushed like a torrent to the water’s edge
Seeking the Margate hoy—with them I fled
For liberty and acting. Thus alone,
With walking strides, and bundle thin of linen,
Hover’d about the Kentish coast, and mark
What trade I took—I hasten’d to East-Bourne,
Where Richland,[119] and a troop of actor folks
I met advancing. Merry lives we led,