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Buck. Even that, I hope, which pleaseth God above,

And all good men of this ungovern'd isle.

Rich. I do suspect I have done some offence

That seems disgracicus in the city's eye;

And that you come to reprehend my ignorance.

Buck. You have, my lord: would it might please your Grace,

On our entreaties to amend your fault!

Rich. Else wherefore breathe I in a Christian land?

Buck. Know then, it is your fault that you resign

The supreme seat, the throne majestical,

The sceptred office of your ancestors,

Your state of fortune and your due of birth,

The lineal glory of your royal house,

To the corruption of a blemish'd stock;

Whiles, in the mildness of your sleepy thoughts,—

Which here we waken to our country's good,—

The noble isle doth want his proper limbs;

His face defac'd with scars of infamy,

His royal stock graft with ignoble plants,

And almost shoulder'd in the swallowing gulf

Of dark forgetfulness and deep oblivion.

Which to recure we heartily solicit

Your gracious self to take on you the charge

And kingly government of this your land:

Not as protector, steward, substitute,

Or lowly factor for another's gain;

But as successively from blood to blood,

Your right of birth, your empery, your own.

For this, consorted with the citizens,

 111 disgracious: ungracious

124 want: lack

his: its

126 graft: engrafted

128 deep: profound

129 recure: restore (to normal)

130 charge: responsibility

133 factor: hireling

134 successively: by right of succession

135 empery: empire

