Reading Measure, for Measure — William Shakespeare

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Ang.

Oh, my dread Lord,

I should be guiltier then my guiltinesse,

To thinke I can be vndiscerneable,

When I perceiue your grace, like powre diuine,

Hath look'd vpon my passes. Then good Prince,

No longer Session hold vpon my shame,

But let my Triall, be mine owne Confession:

Immediate sentence then, and sequent death,

Is all the grace I beg.

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