A sure and safe one, though thy master miss'd it. Mark but my fall and that that ruin'd me. Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition: By that sin fell the angels; how can man then, The image of his Maker, hope to win by it? Love thyself last: cherish...
The Plays of William Shakespeare: In Twenty-one Volumes, with the ... - Page 143
by William Shakespeare - 1813
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