Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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King. An Vnderstanding simple, and vnschool'd:
King. For, what we know must be, and is as common
King. As any the most vulgar thing to sence,
King. Why should we in our peeuish Opposition
King. Take it to heart? Fye,'tis a fault to Heauen,
King. A fault against the Dead, a fault to Nature,
King. To Reason most absurd, whose common Theame
King. Is death of Fathers, and who still hath cried,
King. From the first Coarse, till he that dyed to day,
King. This must be so. We pray you throw to earth
King. This vnpreuayling woe, and thinke of vs
King. As of a Father; For let the world take note,
King. You arc the most immediate to our Throne,
King. And with no lesse Nobility of Loue,
King. Then that which deerest Father beares his Sonne,
King. Do I impart towards you. For your intent
King. In going backe to Schoole in Wittenberg,
King. It is most retrograde to our desire:
King. And we beseech you, bend you to remaine
King. Heere in the cheere and comfort of our eye,