And that you come to reprehend my ignorance.
[♦] Buck. You have, my lord: would it might please your grace,
[♦] At our entreaties, to amend that fault!
Glou. Else wherefore breathe I in a Christian land?
[♦] Buck. Then know, it is your fault that you resign
The supreme seat, the throne majestical,
[♦] The scepter’d office of your ancestors,
[♦] Your state of fortune and your due of birth,
The lineal glory of your royal house,
To the corruption of a blemish’d stock: