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At Stony Stratford fiey do rest to night;
To morrow or next day, they will be here.
Dutch. I long with all my heart to see the prince; I hope, be is much grown fince last I saw him.
QUEEN. But I hear, not ; they say, my son of York
Has almost over-ta’n him in his growth.
YORK. Ay, mother, but I would not have it so.
Dutcr. Why, my young coufin, it is good to grow.
York. Grandam, one night as we did åt at fupper,
My uncle Rivers talk'd how I did
grow More than my brotber. Ay, quoth my uncle Glo'ster, Small herbs have grace, great weeds do grow apace. And since, methinks, I would not grow so faft, Because sweet flow'rs are flow, and weeds make haftë.
Dutch. 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 fhould be gracious.
YORK. And so, no doubt, he is, my gracious madam. DUTCH, I hope, he is; but yet lét mothers doubt.
YORK. Now, by my troth, if I had been remember a I could have giv'n my uncle's grace a floût To touch his growth, nearer than he touch'd mine.
Dutch. How, my young York? I pr’ythee, let me heir
York. Marry, they fay, my uncle grew fo fäft;
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.
Dutch. I pr’ythee, pretty York, who told thee this?
YORK. Grandam, his nurse,
Dutch. Hiš nurse! why, she was dead ere thou walt born.
York. If 'twere not the, I cannot tell who told me. Queen. A per'lous boyigo toz you are too shrewd. Dutch. Good madam, be not angry with a child: QUEEN. Pitchers have ears.
Enter a Messenger, ARCH. Here comes a messenger : what news ?' Mes. Such news, my lord, as grieves me to report, QUEEN. How doth the prince ? Mes. Well, madam, and in health. Dutch. What is thy news?
Mes. Lord Rivers and lord Gray are sent to Pomfret, With them, fir Thomas Vaughan, prisoners.
Dutch. Who hath committed them ?
Mes. The mighty dukes, Glo'ster 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 houles
The tyger now hath seiz'd the gentle hind.
Insulting tyranny begins to jut
Upon the ir:nocent and awless throne ;
Welcome, destruction, blood and massacre !
I see, as in a map, the end of all.
Dutch. Accursed and unquiet wrangling days !
How many of you have mine eyes beheld!
My husband lost his life to get the crowň,
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
Clean over-blown, themselves the conquerors
Make war upon themselves, blood against blood,
Self against self; O most preposterous
And frantic outrage; end thy damned spleen;
Or let me die, to look on death no more.
Queen. Come, come, my boy, we will to sanctuary.
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 relign unto your grace
The seal I keep; and so betide it me,
As well I tender you and all of yours !
-Go, I'll conduct you to the sanctuary.
The trumpets found. Enter prince of Wales, the dukes of
Gloucester and Buckingham, Archbishop, with others.
ELCOME, sweet prince, to London, to your
Gło. Welcome, dear cousin, my thought's 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, th' untainted virtue of your years
Hath not yet div'd into the world's deceit,
Nor more can you distinguish of a man,
Than of his outward shew, which, God he knows,
Seldom or never jumpeth with the heart.
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. God keep me from false friends! but they
GLO. My lord, the Mayor of London comes to greet you.
Enter Lord Mayor.
MAYOR, God bless your grace with health and happy
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 lug is Hastings that he comes not
To tell us, whether they will come or no.
Enter Lord Hastings.
BUCK. And in good time here comes the sweating lord.
PRINCE. Welcome, my lord; what, will our mother
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 with-held.
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, you' go with him,
And from her jealous arms pluck him perforce.
Arch. 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 entreaties, God forbid,
We should the holy privilege
Of 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 deserv'd the place,
And those, who have the wit to clain the place';
This prince hath neither claim'd it, nor deferv'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,
Bur fanctuary-children ne'er 'till nows
ARCH. My lord, you shall o'er-rule my mind for oncé. 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 Archbishop and Haftings. Say, uncle Clo'ster, 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 :