Dutch. I hope, he is; but yet let mothers doubt. York. Now, by my troth, if I had been remember'd,

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

To touch his growth, nearer than he touch'd mine. Dutch. 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.

371

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

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

York. If 'twere not she, I cannot tell who told me. Queen. A parlous boy; Go to, you are too

shrewd.

Dutch. Good madam, be not angry with the child. Queen. Pitchers have ears.

Enter a Messenger.

Arch. Here comes a messenger: What news?

380

Mes. Such news, my lord, as grieves me to unfold.

Queen. How doth the prince?

Mes. Well, madam, and in health.

Dutch. What is thy news?

Mes. Lord Rivers, and lord Grey,

Are sent to Pomfret, prisoners; and, with them,

Sir Thomas Vaughan.

Dutch

Dutch. Who hath committed them?

Mes. The mighty dukes, Gloster and Buckingham.

Queen. For what offence!

Mes. 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.

Queen. Ah me, I see the ruin of my house! The tyger now hath seiz'd 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.

390

400

Dutch. 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 against self:-O, preposterous And frantick outrage, end thy damned spleen; 410 Or let me die, to look on death no more!

Queen. Come, come, my boy, we will to sanctuary.

Madam, farewel.

Dutch. Stay, I will go with you.

Queen. You have no cause.

Arch.

Arch. My gracious lady, go,

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 your's!
Come, I'll conduct you to the sanctuary.

420

[Exeunt.

ACT III. SCENE 1.

In London. The Trumpets sound. Enter the Prince of WALES, the Dukes of GLOSTER and BUCKINGHAM, Cardinal BOUCHIER, and others.

Buckingham.

WELCOME, Sweet prince, to London, to your

chamber.

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 shew; which, God he knows, Seldom, or nøver, jumpeth with the heart.

9

Those

Those uncles, which you want, were dangerous;
Your grace attended to their sugar'd words,

But look'd not on the poison of their hearts:

God keep you from them, and from such false friends!

Prince. Good 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.

Mayor, God bless your grace with health and happy days!

Prince. I thank you, good my lord;-and thank you all..

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.

20

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.

30 Buck.

Buck. Fie! what an indirect and peevish course
Is this of her's?-Lord cardinal, will your grace
Persuade the queen to send the duke of York
Unto his princely brother presently?

If she deny-lord Hastings, you 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

40

50

To those whose dealings have deserv'd the place,
And those who have the wit to claim the place:
This prince hath neither claim'd it, nor deserv'd it;
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'er-rule my mind for

once.

Come on, lord Hastings, will you go with me?

Hast. I go, my lord.

Prince.