Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Con. My name is Constance, I was Geffreyes wife,
Con. Yong Arthur is my sonne, and he is lost:
Con. I am not mad, I would to heauen I were,
Con. For then 'tis like I should forget my selfe:
Con. O, if I could, what griefe should I forget?
Con. Preach some Philosophy to make me mad,
Con. And thou shalt be Canoniz'd (Cardinall.)
Con. For, being not mad, but sensible of greefe,
Con. My reasonable part produces reason
Con. How I may be deliuer'd of these woes,
Con. And teaches mee to kill or hang my selfe:
Con. If I were mad, I should forget my sonne,
Con. Or madly thinke a babe of clowts were he;
Con. I am not mad: too well, too well I feele
Con. The different plague of each calamitie.
Fra. Fra.
Fra. Binde vp those tresses: O what loue I note
Fra. In the faire multitude of those her haires;
Fra. Where but by chance a siluer drop hath falne,
Fra. Euen to that drop ten thousand wiery fiends