Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Buck. Would it might please your Grace,
Buck. On our entreaties, to amend your fault.
Rich. Rich.
Rich. Else wherefore breathe I in a Christian Land.
Buck. Buck.
Buck. Know then, it is your fault, that you resigne
Buck. The Supreme Seat, the Throne Maiesticall,
Buck. The Sceptred Office of your Ancestors,
Buck. Your State of Fortune, and your Deaw of Birth,
Buck. The Lineall Glory of your Royall House,
Buck. To the corruption of a blemisht Stock;
Buck. Whiles in the mildnesse of your sleepie thoughts,
Buck. Which here we waken to our Countries good,
Buck. The Noble Ile doth want his proper Limmes:
Buck. His Face defac'd with skarres of Infamie,
Buck. His Royall Stock grafft with ignoble Plants,
Buck. And almost shouldred in the swallowing Gulfe
Buck. Of darke Forgetfulnesse, and deepe Obliuion.
Buck. Which to recure, we heartily solicite
Buck. Your gracious selfe to take on you the charge