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Section 239
Passage 1 of 2 · section 239 of 958
1Rich.
2I know it well Lord Warwick, blame me not,
3'Tis loue I beare thy glories make me speake:
4But in this troublous time, what's to be done?
5Shall we go throw away our Coates of Steele,
6And wrap our bodies in blacke mourning Gownes,
7Numb'ring our Aue‑Maries with our Beads?
8Or shall we on the Helmets of our Foes