¶O
serue me well, and teach your
selues that duty.
725Dors. Di
spute not with her,
she is lunatique.
¶Q M . Peace Ma
ster Marques you are malapert,
¶Your fire-new
stampe of honour is
scar
se currant:
¶O that your young nobility could iudge,
¶What twere to loo
se it and be mi
serable:
730They that
stand high haue many bla
st to
shake them,
¶And if they fall they da
sh them
selues to pieces.
¶Glo. Good coun
sell mary, learne it learne it Marques.
¶Dor. It toucheth you my Lo: a
smuch as me.
735Glo. Yea and much more, but I was borne
so high,
¶Our aiery buildeth in the Cedars top,
¶And dallies with the winde, and
scornes the
sunne.
¶Qu. M . And turnes the
sun to
shade, alas, alas,
¶Witnes my
son, now in the
shade of death,
740Who
se bright out
shining beames, thy cloudy wrath
¶Hath in eternall darkenes foulded vp:
¶Your aiery buildeth in our aieries ne
st,
¶O God that
see
st it, doe not
suffer it:
¶As it was wonne with bloud, lo
st be it
so.
745Buck. Haue done for
shame, if not for charity.
¶Qu. M . Vrge neither charity nor
shame to me,
¶Vncharitably with me haue you dealt,
¶And
shamefully by you my hopes are butcherd,
¶My charity is outrage, life my
shame,
750And in my
shame,
still liue my
sorrowes rage.
¶Q. M . O Princely Buckingham, I will ki
sse thy hand
¶In
signe of league and amity with thee:
¶Now faire befall thee and thy Princely hou
se,
755Thy garments are not
spotted with our bloud,
¶Nor thou within the compa
sse of my cur
se.
¶Buc. Nor no one here, for cur
ses neuer pa
sse
¶The lips of tho
se that breath them in the aire.
¶Q. M. Ile not beleeue but they a
scend the
skie,
760And there awake gods gentle
sleeping peace.
¶O Buckingham beware of yonder dog,
¶Looke when he fawnes, he bites, and when he bites,
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