At Stony-Stratford they do rest to-night: York. Ay, mother; but I would not have it fo. My uncle Rivers talk'd how I did grow In him that did object the fame to thee. That if his rule were true, he should be gracious. hear it. York. Marry, they say my unele grew fo fast, That he could gnaw a cruft 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 the, I cannot tell who told me. Queen. A parlous boy--go to, you are too fhrewd. Duch. Good Madam, be not angry with a child. Queen Pitchers have ears. Enter a Meffenger. Arch. Here comes a messenger. What news? Mef. Such news, my Lord, as grieves me to report. S 3 Queen. Queen. How doth the Prince? Meff. Well, Madam, and in health. Duch. What is thy news? Meff. Lord Rivers and Lord Gray are fent to Pom-With them Sir Thomas Vaughan, prisoners. [fret, Duch. Who hath committed them? Meff. The mighty Dukes, Glo'fter and Buckingham. Arch. For what offence? Mes. The sum of all I can I have disclos'd. Queen. Ah me! I fee the ruin of my house; Duch. Accurfed and unquiet wrangling days! And frantic outrage! end thy damned spleen ; Queen Come, come, my boy, we will to fanctuary. Madam, farewel. Duch. Stay, I will go with you. Arch. My gracious Lady, go, And thither bear your treasure and your goods. [Exeunt. ACT ACT III. SCENE I. In London. The Trumpets found. Enter Prince of Wales, the Dukes of Glouceiter and Buckingham, Archbishop, with others. Elcome, fweet Prince, to London, to your Buck. W 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, wearitome, 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 diftinguish 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 fugar'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 were none Glo. My Lord, the Mayor of London comes to greet you. Enter Lord Mayor. Mayor. God bless your Grace with health and happy days! [all: Prince. I thank you, good my Lord, and thank you I thought my mother and my brother York Would long ere this have met us on the way. Fie, what a flug is Hastings! that he comes not To tell us whether they will come or no. Enter Lord Hastings. Buch. And in good time here comes the sweating Prince. Welcome, my Lord. What, will our mother Lord. come? * London was anciently called Camera regia, Mr. Pope. Haft. Haft. On what occafion, God he knows, not I, Buck Fie, what an indirect and peevish course Arch. My Lord of Buckingham, if my weak oratory Buck. You are too senseless-obstinate, my Lord, To those whose dealings have deferv'd the place, Arch. My Lord, you shall o'er-rule my mind for once; Come on, Lord Hastings, will you go with me? Haft. I go, my Lord. [Exeunt Archbishop and Hastings. Prince. Good Lords. make all the speedy hafte you Say, uncle Glo'lter, if our brother come, Glo. Where it feems beit unto you Royal self. If I may counfel you, fome day or two [may + Ceremonious, for fuperftitious; traditional, for adherent to old cuf toms. Your Your Highness shall repose you at the Tower: Prince. I do not like the Tower of any place. Prince. Is it upon record? or else reported Succeflively from age to age he built it? Buck. Upon record, my gracious Lord. Prince. But fay, my Lord, it were not register'd,. Methinks the truth should live from age to age, As 'twere intail'd to all pofterity, Even to the general all-ending day. Glo. So wife, fo young, they say, do ne'er live long. Prince. What ay you. uncle? Glo. I fay, without characters Fame lives long. Thus like the formal-wife Antiquity I moralize two meanings in one word. } Afide. Prince. That Julius Cæfar was a famous man; : Glo. Short fummer lightly has a forward spring.. Enter York, Haftings, and Archbishop. Buck. Now in good time here comes the Duke of York. Prince. Richard of York, how fares our Noble brother? York. Well, my dread Lord, fo must I call you now. Prince. Ay, brother, to our grief, as it is your's; Too late he dy'd that might have kept that title, Which by his death hath loft much majetty. Glo. How fares our coufin, Noble Lord of York? York. I thank you, gentle uncle. O my Lord, You |