Direct reading · Original
Section 788
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King.
The Prince hath ta'ne it hence;
Goe seeke him out.
Is hee so hastie, that hee doth suppose
My sleepe, my death? finde him (my Lord of Warwick)
Chide him hither: this part of his conioynes
With my disease, and helpes to end me.
See Sonnes, what things you are;
How quickly Nature falls into reuolt,
When Gold becomes her Object?
For this, the foolish ouer‑carefull Fathers
Haue broke their sleepes with thoughts,
Their braines with care, their bones with industry.
For this, they, haue ingrossed and pyl'd vp
The canker'd heapes of strange‑atchieued Gold:
For this, they haue beene thoughtfull, to invest