[♦] Because my book preferr’d me to the king,
65 And seeing ignorance is the curse of God,
Knowledge the wing wherewith we fly to heaven,
Unless you be possess’d with devilish spirits,
[♦] You cannot but forbear to murder me:
This tongue hath parley’d unto foreign kings
[70] For your behoof,—
[♦] Cade. Tut, when struck’st thou one blow in the field?
Say. Great men have reaching hands: oft have I struck
[♦] Those that I never saw and struck them dead.