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.

Enter a Messenger. Arch.

Here comes a messenger : What news?

Mess. Such news, my lord,
As grieves me to unfold.
Q. Eliz.

How doth the prince ?
Mess. Well, madam, and in health.
Duch.

What is thy news? Mess. Lord Rivers, and lord Grey, are sent to PomWith them sir Thomas Vaughan, prisoners. [fret,

Duch. Who hath committed them ?
Mess.

The mighty dukes,
Gloster and Buckingham.
Q. Eliz.

For what offence ?
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.

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

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 lookd 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, 8c.
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,

· cousin, for nephew,

Have taken sanctuary: The tender prince
Would fain have come with me to meet your grace,
But by his mother was perforce withheld.

Buck. Fye! what an indirect and peevish course
Is this of hers !Lord cardinal, will your grace
Persuade the queen to send the duke of York
Unto his princely brother presently?
If she deny,—lord Hastings, go with him,
And from her jealous arms pluck him perforce.
Card. My lord of Buckingham, if my weak

oratory
Can from his mother win the duke of York,
Anon expect him here: But if she be obdurate
To mild entreaties, God in heaven forbid
We should infringe the holy privilege
Of blessed sanctuary! not for all this land,
Would I be guilty of so deep a sin.

Buck. You are too senseless-obstinate my lord,
Too ceremonious, and traditional:
Weigh it' but with the grossness of this age,
You break not sanctuary in seizing him.
The benefit thereof is always granted
To those whose dealings have deservd the place,
And those who have the wit to claim the place:
This prince hath neither claim'd it, nor deservd it;
And therefore, in mine opinion, cannot have it:
Then, taking him from thence, that is not there,
You break no privilege nor charter there.
Oft have I heard of sanctuary men;
But sanctuary children, ne'er till now. [once.-

Card. My lord, you shall o'er-rule my mind for Come on, lord Hastings, will you go with me?

Hast. I go, my lord.
Prince. Good lords, make all the speedy haste you

may. [Exeunt Cardinal and HASTINGS. Say, uncle Gloster, if our brother come, Where shall we sojourn till our coronation ?

Glo. Where it seems best unto your royal self. If I may counsel you, some day, or two, Your highness shall repose you at the Tower: Then where you please, and shall be thought most fit For your best health and recreation.

Prince. I do not like the Tower, of any place:Did Julius Cæsar build that place, my lord ?

Glo. He did, my gracious lord, begin that place ; Which, since, succeeding ages have re-edified.

Prince. Is it upon record ? or else reported Successively from age to age he built it?

Buck. Upon record, my gracious iord.

Prince. But say, my lord, it were not register'd; Methinks, the truth should live from age to age, As 'twere retail'd' to all posterity, Even to the general all-ending day.

Glo. So wise so young, they say, do ne'er live long.

[Aside.

Prince. What say you, uncle?
Glo. I say, without characters, fame lives long.
Thus, like the formal vice, Iniquity,3

{Aside. I moralize two meanings in one word. ) *

Prince. That Julius Cæsar was a famous man;
With what his valour did enrich his wit,
His wit set down to make his valour live:
Death makes no conquest of this conqueror;
For now he lives in fame, though not in life.
I'll tell you what, my cousin Buckingham.

Buck. What, my gracious lord ?

Prince. An if I live until I be a man, I'll win our ancient right in France again, Or die a soldier, as I liv'd a king. Glo. Short summers lightly + have a forward spring.

[Aside.