"Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother, Nor customary suits of solemn black..." For, in truth, the mirrored princely image, with hair dishevelled on the white brow, and the long tragic fall of black velvet from the shoulders, had brought about (in his thought at least) some comparisons of his own times, so out of joint, with those of that other gentle prince and heir whose widowed mother was minded to marry again. "But I have that within which passeth show; These but the trappings and the suits of Woe."
