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 sit at supper, My uncle Rivers talked 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 hold

In him that did object the same to thee.

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 remembered,
I could have given my uncle's grace a flout,
To touch his growth, nearer than he touched 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.

herself, the person most materially interested in the welfare of her son, did not hear of the king's being carried back from Stony-Stratford to Northampton till about midnight of the day on which this violence was offered to him by his uncle. See Hall, Edward V. fol. 6. Malone thinks this an unanswerable argument in favor of the reading of the quarto; while Steevens thinks it a matter of indifference, but prefers the text of the folio copy on account of the versification.

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?

Mess. Well, madam, and in health.

Duch.

Mess. Lord Rivers, and lord Grey, are sent to

Pomfret,

With them sir Thomas Vaughan, prisoners.

Duch. Who hath committed them?

Mess.

Gloster and Buckingham.

Q. Eliz.

The mighty dukes,

For what offence?

Mess. The sum of all I can, I have disclosed;
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 seized the gentle hind;
Insulting tyranny begins to jut

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 domestic broils

1 Parlous is a popular corruption of perilous; keen, shrewd. The queen evidently means to chide him.

2 The quarto reads to jet, which Mr. Boswell thought preferable; but the folio is right. "To jut upon the throne," is to make inroads or inva sions upon it. See Cooper's Dictionary, 1584. Awless is not producing awe, not reverenced.

Clean overblown, themselves, the conquerors,
Make war upon themselves; brother to brother,
Blood to blood, self 'gainst self.-O, preposterous
And frantic courage, end thy damned spleen;
Or 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. London. A Street.

The trumpets

sound.

Enter the PRINCE of WALES, GLOSTER, BUCKINGHAM, CARDINAL BOURCHIER,2 and others.

Buck. Welcome, sweet prince, to London, to your chamber.3

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

1 Afterwards, however, this obsequious archbishop [Rotheram], to ingratiate himself with Richard III., put his majesty's badge, the Hog, upon the gate of the public library at Cambridge.

2 Thomas Bourchier was made a cardinal, and elected archbishop of Canterbury in 1464. He died in 1486.

3 London was anciently called Camera Regis. London is called the king's special chamber in the duke of Buckingham's oration to the citizens (apud More), which Shakspeare has taken other phrases from.

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 dived 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 their sugared words,
But looked 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!

you all.

Prince. I thank you, good my lord;—and thank [Exeunt Mayor, &c. I thought my mother, and my brother York,

Would long ere this have met us on the way.
Fie, 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,
Have taken sanctuary. The tender prince

Would fain have come with me to meet your grace,
But by his mother was perforce withheld.

Buck. Fie! 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;1

2

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 deserved the place,
And those who have the wit to claim the place.
This prince hath neither claimed it, nor deserved 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.

Card. My lord, you shall o'errule my mind for

once.

Come on, lord Hastings, will you go with me?
Hast. I go, my lord.

Prince. Good lords, make all the speedy haste you [Exeunt Cardinal and HAST.

may.

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.

1 Ceremonious for superstitious; traditional for adherent to old customs. 2 Grossness here means plainness, simplicity.

VOL. V.

8