Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Dut. For euer will I kneele vpon my knees,
Dut. And neuer see day, that the happy sees,
Dut. Till thou giue ioy: vntill thou bid me ioy.
Dut. By pardoning Rutland, my transgressing Boy.
Aum. Aum.
Aum. Vnto my mothers prayres, I bend my knee.
Yorke. Yorke.
Yorke. Against them both, my true ioynts bended be.
Dut. Dut.
Dut. Pleades he in earnest? Looke vpon his Face,
Dut. His eyes do drop no teares: his prayres are in iest:
Dut. His words come from his mouth, ours from our brest.
Dut. He prayes but faintly, and would be denide,
Dut. We pray with heart, and soule, and all beside:
Dut. His weary ioynts would gladly rise, I know,
Dut. Our knees shall kneele, till to the ground they grow:
Dut. His prayers are full of false hypocrisie,
Dut. Ours of true zeale, and deepe integritie:
Dut. Our prayers do out‑pray his, then let them haue
Dut. That mercy, which true prayers ought to haue.