Page 1155 - Shakespeare - Vol. 1

He is my son, ay, and herein my shame;
Yet from my dugs he drew not this deceit. [30]

BOY

Think you my uncle did dissemble, grandam?

DUCHESS

Ay, boy.

BOY

I cannot think it. Hark, what noise is this?

Enter Queen Elizabeth with her hair about her ears, Rivers and Dorset
after her.

ELIZABET H

Ah! who shall hinder me to wail and weep,
To chide my fortune, and torment myself? [35]
I’ll join with black despair against my soul
And to myself become an enemy.

DUCHESS

What means this scene of rude impatience?

ELIZABET H

To make an act of tragic violence:
Edward, my lord, thy son, our King, is dead. [40]
Why grow the branches, when the root is gone?
Why wither not the leaves that want their sap?
If you will live, lament; if die, be brief,
That our swift-winged souls may catch the King’s
Or like obedient subjects follow him [45]
To his new kingdom of ne’er-changing night.

DUCHESS

Ah, so much interest have I in thy sorrow
As I had title in thy noble husband.
I have bewept a worthy husband’s death,
And liv’d with looking on his images: [50]
But now two mirrors of his princely semblance