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Section 106
Passage 1 of 5 · section 106 of 1239
1Rich.
2I would they were, that I might dye at once:
3For now they kill me with a liuing death.
4Those eyes of thine, from mine haue drawne salt Teares;
5Sham'd their Aspects with store of childish drops:
6These eyes, which neuer shed remorsefull teare,
7No, when my Father Yorke, and Edward wept,
8To heare the pittious moane that Rutland made