Reading The life and death of King Iohn — William Shakespeare

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Iohn.

Oh Cozen, thou art come to set mine eye:

The tackle of my heart, is crack'd and burnt,

And all the shrowds wherewith my life should faile,

Are turned to one thred, one little haire:

My heart hath one poore string to stay it by,

Which hold but till thy newes be vttered,

And then all this thou seest, is but a clod,

And module of confounded royalty.

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