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Section 116
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Bra.
So did I yours: Good your Grace pardon me.
Neither my place, hor ought I heard of businesse
Hath rais'd me from my bed; nor doth the generall care
Take hold on me. For my perticular griefe
Is of so flood‑gate, and ore‑bearing Nature,
That it engluts, and swallowe□□□ther sorrowes,
And it is still it selfe.