Has almost overta'en him in his growth.

York. Ay, mother, but I would not have it fo.
Dutch. Why, my young coufin? it is good to grow.
York. Grandam, one night as we did fit at fupper,
My uncle Rivers talk'd how I did grow

More than my brother; Ay, quoth my uncle Glofter,
Small herbs have grace, great weeds do grow apace:
And fince, methinks, I would not grow so fast,
Because sweet flowers are flow, and weeds make haste.
Dutch. Good faith, good faith, the saying did not hold
In him that did object the fame to thee:

He was the wretched'ft thing, when he was young,
So long a growing, and fo leisurely,

That, if his rule were true, he should be gracious.

Arch. And fo, no doubt, he is, my gracious madam. 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 fay, my uncle grew fo faft,

That he cold gnaw a cruft at two hours old;

'Twas full two years ere I could get a tooth.
Grandam, this would have been a biting jeft.

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

Dutch. His nurfe! why, fhe was dead ere thou wast

born.

York. If 'twere not fhe, I cannot tell who told me.

Queen. Aparlous boy :-Go to, you are too 'fhrewd.

the wretched')-The most puny, pitiful, unpromifing.

1 had been remember'd,]—had recollected.

parlous]-perilous.

fbrew'd.]-waggish, fatirical.

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

Enter a Messenger.

Arch. Here comes a meffenger: What news?
Mef. Such news, my lord, as grieves me to unfold.
Queen. How doth the prince?

Mef. Well, madam, and in health.
Dutch. What is thy news?

Mef. Lord Rivers, and lord Grey,

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

Sir Thomas Vaughan.

Dutch. Who hath committed them?

Mef. The mighty dukes, Glofter, and Buckingham. Arch. For what offence?

Mef. The fum of all I can, I have disclos'd; Why, or for what, the nobles were committed, Is all unknown to me, my gracious lord.

Queen. Ah me, I fee the ruin of my houfe! The tyger now hath feiz'd the gentle hind; Infulting tyranny begins to jut

Upon the innocent and "awlefs throne:-
Welcome destruction, blood, and maffacre!
I fee, as in a map, the end of all.

Dutch. Accurfed and unquiet wrangling days!
How many of you have mine eyes beheld?
My husband loft his life to get the crown;
And often up and down my fons were tost,
For me to joy, and weep, their gain, and loss:
And being feated, and domestick broils
Clean over-blown, themselves, the conquerors,
Make war upon themselves; brother to brother,

Blood to blood, felf against felf:-O, preposterous

And frantick outrage, end thy damned spleen;

Or let me die, to look on 'death no more!

Queen. Come, come, my boy, we will to fanctuary.Madam, farewel.

Dutch. Stay, I will go with you.

Queen. You have no cause.

Arch. My gracious lady, go,

And thither bear your treasure and your goods.

For my part, I'll refign unto your grace

The feal I keep; And fo betide to me,
As well I tender you, and all of yours!
Come, I'll conduct you to the fanctuary.

[Exeunt.

ACT III. SCENE I.

In London.

The trumpets found. Enter the Prince of Wales, the Dukes of Glofter and Buckingham, Cardinal Bourchier, and others.

Buck. Welcome, fweet prince, to London, to your ' chamber.

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

Prince. No, uncle; but our croffes on the way Have made it tedious, wearifome, and heavy:

I want more uncles here to welcome me.

Glo. Sweet prince, the untainted virtue of your years

• earth.

P chamber]-London was anciently called Camera regia.

Hath not yet div'd into the world's deceit :
No more can you distinguish of a man,

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

God keep you from them, and from fuch 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.

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 flug is Haftings! that he comes not
To tell us, whether they will come, or no.

Enter Haftings.

Buck. And, in good time, here comes the sweating lord. Prince. Welcome, my lord: What, will our mother come?

Haft. On what occafion, God he knows, not I,
The queen your mother, and your brother York,
Have taken fau&tuary: 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

jumpetb]-accordeth.

Is this of hers?-Lord cardinal, will your grace
Perfuade the queen to fend the duke of York
Unto his princely brother prefently?

If the deny,-lord Haftings, 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 fanctuary! not for all this land,
Would I be guilty of fo deep a fin.

Buck. You are too fenfeless-obftinate, my lord,

Too 'ceremonious, and traditional;

Weigh it but with the groffnefs of this age,
You break not fanctuary in feizing him.
The benefit thereof is always granted

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,
Your break no privilege nor charter there.
Oft have I heard of fanctuary men ;

But fanctuary children ne'er till now.

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

Haft. I go, my lord.

Prince. Good lords, make all the fpeedy hafte you

may.

[Exeunt Cardinal, and Haftings.

ceremonious, and traditional, &c.]—fuperftitious, and attached to old cuftoms; you' confider this matter only according to those grofs prejudices, which prevail in the prefent age.-Weigh it but with the greennefs of his age,-Attend but to the duke's green years.