1 Cit. Give you good morrow, sir. 3 Cit. Doth the news hold of good king Edward's

death?

2 Cit. Ay, sir, it is too true; God help, the while! 3 Cit. Then, masters, look to see a troublous world. 1 Cit. No, no; by God's good grace, his son shall

reign.

3 Cit. Woe to that land, that's govern'd by a child! 2 Cit. In him there is a hope of government; That, in his nonage, council under him,

And, in his full and ripen'd years, himself,
No doubt, shall then, and till then, govern well.

1 Cit. So stood the state, when Henry the Sixth Was crown'd in Paris but at nine months old.

[wot;

3 Cit. Stood the state so? no, no, good friends, God For then this land was famously enrich'd With politick grave counsel; then the king Had virtuous uncles to protect his grace.

1 Cit. Why, so hath this, both by his father and mother.

3 Cit. Better it were, they all came by his father; Or, by his father, there were none at all:

For emulation now, who shall be nearest,

Will touch us all too near, if God prevent not.
O, full of danger is the duke of Gloster;

And the queen's sons, and brothers, haught and proud;
And were they to be rul'd, and not to rule,
This sickly land might solace as before.

[well.

1 Cit. Come, come, we fear the worst; all will be 3 Cit. When clouds are seen, wise men put on their

cloaks;

When great leaves fall, then winter is at hand;
When the sun sets, who doth not look for night?
Untimely storms make men expect a dearth:
All
may be well; but, if God sort it so,

'Tis more than we deserve, or I expect.

2 Cit. Truly, the hearts of men are full of fear: You cannot reason almost with a man

That looks not heavily, and full of dread.

3 Cit. Before the days of change, still is it so: By a divine instinct, men's minds mistrust Ensuing danger; as, by proof, we see The water swell before a boist'rous storm. But leave it all to God. Whither away? 2 Cit. Marry, we are sent for to the justices. 3 Cit. And so was I; I'll bear you company. [Exeunt. SCENE IV. The same. A room in the palace.

Enter the Archbishop of YORK, the young Duke of YORK, Queen ELIZABETH, and the Duchess of YORK.

[ford,

Arch. Last night, I heard, they lay at Stony-StratAnd at Northampton they do rest to-night: To-morrow, or next day, they will be here. Duch. I long with all my heart to see the prince; I hope, he is much grown since last I saw him. Q. Eliz. But I hear, no; they say, my son of York Hath almost overta'en him in his growth.

York. Ay, mother, but I would not have it so. Duch. Why, my young cousin; it is good to grow. York. Grandam, one night, as we did set at supper My uncle Rivers talk'd how I did grow

More than my brother; Ay, quoth my uncle Gloster,
Small herbs have grace, great weeds do grow apace:
And since, methinks, I would not grow so fast.
Because sweet flowers are slow, and weeds make haste.
Duch. 'Good faith, 'good faith, the saying did not
In him that did object the same to thee:
[hold
He was the wretched'st thing, when he was young,
So long a growing, and so leisurely,
That, if his rule were true, he should be gracious.
Arch. And so, no doubt, he is, my gracious madam.
Duch. I hope, he is; but yet let mothers doubt.
York. Now, by my troth, if I had been remember'd,'

i. e. 1 If I had had my thoughts about me.

I could have given my uncle's grace a flout,

To touch his growth, nearer than he touch'd mine. Duch. How, my young York? I pr'ythee, let me hear it.

York. Marry, they say, my uncle grew so fast,
That he could gnaw a crust at two hours old;
'Twas full two years ere I could get a tooth.
Grandam, this would have been a biting jest.

Duch. I pr'ythee, pretty York, who told thee this?
York. Grandam, his nurse.

Duch. His nurse! why, she was dead ere thou wast born.

York. If 'twere not she, I cannot tell who told me. Q. Eliz. A parlous' boy: Go to, you are too shrewd. Arch. Good madam, be not angry with the child. Q. Eliz. Pitchers have ears.

What is thy news?

As grieves me to unfold.

Mess. Well, madam, and in health.

Duch.

Mess. Lord Rivers, and lord Grey, are sent to PomWith them sir Thomas Vaughan, prisoners.

Duch. Who hath committed them?

Mess.

Gloster and Buckingham.

[fret,

The mighty dukes,

For what offence?

Q. Eliz.
Mess. The sum of all I can, I have disclos'd;
Why, or for what, the nobles were committed,
Is all unknown to me, my gracious lady.

Q. Eliz. Ah me, I see the ruin of my house!
The tiger now hath seiz'd the gentle hind;
Insulting tyranny begins to jut

' parlous, keen, sprightly.

1

Upon the innocent and awless throne :-
Welcome, destruction, blood, and massacre!
I see, as in a map, the end of all.

Duch. Accursed and unquiet wrangling days!
How many of you have mine eyes beheld?
My husband lost his life to get the crown;
And often up and down my sons were tost,
For me to joy, and weep their gain, and loss:
And being seated, and domestick broils
Clean over-blown, themselves, the conquerors,
Make war upon themselves; brother to brother,
Blood to blood, self'gainst self:

O let me die, to look on death no more!

Q. Eliz. Come, come, my boy, we will to sanctuary.— Madam, farewell,

Duch.

Stay, I will go with you.

Q. Eliz. You have no cause.

Arch.

My gracious lady, go, [To the Queen.

And thither bear your treasure and your goods.
For my part, I'll resign unto your grace
The seal I keep; And so betide to me,
As well I tender you, and all of yours!
Come, I'll conduct you to the sanctuary.

[Exeunt.

ACT III.

SCENE I.-The same. A street.

The trumpets sound. Enter the Prince of Wales, GLOSTER, BUCKINGHAM, Cardinal BoURCHIER, and others.

Buck. Welcome, sweet prince, to London, to your chamber.

i. e. encroach upon.

Glo. Welcome, dear cousin,' my thoughts' sovereign: The weary way hath made you melancholy.

Prince. No, uncle; but our crosses on the way
Have made it tedious, wearisome, and heavy :
I want more uncles here to welcome me.

Glo. Sweet prince, the untainted virtue of your years Hath not yet div'd into the world's deceit :

No more can you distinguish of a man,

Than of his outward show; which, God he knows,
Seldom, or never, jumpeth with the heart.
Those uncles, which you want, were dangerous;
Your grace attended to the sugar'd words,
But look'd not on the poison of their hearts:

God keep you from them, and from such false friends!
Prince. God keep me from false friends! but they

were none.

Glo. My lord, the mayor of London comes to greet you.

Enter the Lord Mayor, and his train.

May. God bless your grace with health and happy
days!

Prince. I thank you, good my lord; and thank
you all.-
[Exeunt Mayor, &c.

I thought my mother, and my brother York,
Would long ere this have met us on the way:
Fye, what a slug is Hastings! that he comes not
To tell us, whether they will come, or no.

Enter HASTINGS.

Buck. And in good time, here comes the sweating

lord.

Prince, Welcome, my lord: What, will our mother come?

Hast. On what occasion, God he knows, not I, The queen your mother, and your brother York,