Duchess Monologue from Richard II

From Richard II by William Shakespeare

female · anguished · 1:11 min

Yet one word more. Grief boundeth where it falls, Not with the empty hollowness, but weight. I take my leave before I have begun, For sorrow ends not when it seemeth done. Commend me to thy brother, Edmund York. Lo, this is all. Nay, yet depart not so! Though this be all, do not so quickly go; I shall remember more. Bid him—ah, what?— With all good speed at Plashy visit me. Alack, and what shall good old York there see But empty lodgings and unfurnished walls, Unpeopled offices, untrodden stones? And what hear there for welcome but my groans? Therefore commend me; let him not come there To seek out sorrow that dwells everywhere. Desolate, desolate, will I hence and die! The last leave of thee takes my weeping eye.

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