Henry VIII by William Shakespeare
page 54 of 141 (38%)
page 54 of 141 (38%)
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To lighten all this Ile. I'le to the King,
And say I spoke with you. Exit Lord Chamberlaine. An. My honour'd Lord Old.L. Why this it is: See, see, I haue beene begging sixteene yeares in Court (Am yet a Courtier beggerly) nor could Come pat betwixt too early, and too late For any suit of pounds: and you, (oh fate) A very fresh Fish heere; fye, fye, fye vpon This compel'd fortune: haue your mouth fild vp, Before you open it An. This is strange to me Old L. How tasts it? Is it bitter? Forty pence, no: There was a Lady once (tis an old Story) That would not be a Queene, that would she not For all the mud in Egypt; haue you heard it? An. Come you are pleasant Old.L. With your Theame, I could O're-mount the Larke: The Marchionesse of Pembrooke? A thousand pounds a yeare, for pure respect? No other obligation? by my Life, That promises mo thousands: Honours traine Is longer then his fore-skirt; by this time |
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