2. Eliz. You have no cause. Arch. [to the QUEEN.] 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 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, and others. Buckingham. ELCOME, sweet prince, to London, to your chamber. Glo. Welcome, dear cousin, my thoughts' The weary way hath made you melancholy. Glo. Sweet prince, the untainted virtue of your years Hath not yet dived into the world's deceit : Than of his outward show; which, God he knows, Seldom or never jumpeth with the heart. 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 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! 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. 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 her!-Lord cardinal, will your grace If she deny, loid Hastings, go with him, Card. My lord of Buckingham, if my weak oratory Can from his mother win the duke of York, Of blessed sanctuary! not for all this land Buck. You are too senseless-obstinate, my lord, Too ceremonious and traditional : Weigh it but with the grossness of this age, To those whose dealings have deserved the place, And those who have the wit to claim the place: This prince hath neither claim'd it, nor deserved it; And therefore, in mine opinion, cannot have it : 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? Prince. Good lords, make all the speedy haste you may. [Exeunt CARDINAL and HASTINGS. Say, uncle Gloster, if our brother come, Where shall we sojourn till our coronation? 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. Prince. I do not like the Tower, of any place : Did Julius Cæsar build that place, my lord? Which, since, succeeding ages have re-edified. Even to the general all-ending day. Glo. [aside.] So wise so young, they say, do never live long. Prince. What say you, uncle? Glo. I say, without characters, fame lives long. [Aside.] Thus, like the formal Vice, Iniquity, I moralize two meanings in one word. Prince. That Julius Cæsar was man: a famous With what his valour did enrich his wit, Prince. An if I live until I be a man, I'll win our ancient right in France again, Or die a soldier, as I lived a king. Glo. [aside.] Short summers lightly have a forward spring. Enter YORK, HASTINGS, and the CARDINAL. 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; so I must call you now. Prince. Ay, brother; to our grief, as it is yours: Too late he died, that might have kept that title, Which by his death hath lost much majesty. Glo. How fares our cousin, noble lord of York? York. I thank you, gentle uncle. O, my lord, You said that idle weeds are fast in growth: The prince my brother hath outgrown me far. Glo. He hath, my lord. York. And therefore is he idle? Glo. O, my fair cousin, I must not say so. York. Then he is more beholden to you than I. Glo. He may command me, as my sovereign; But you have power in me, as in a kinsman. York. I pray you, uncle, give me this dagger. Glo. My dagger, little cousin? with all my heart. Prince. A beggar, brother? York. Of my kind uncle, that I know will give; And, being but a toy, which is no grief to give. Glo. A greater gift than that I'll give my cousin. York. A greater gift? O, that's the sword to it. Glo. Ay, gentle cousin, were it light enough. York. O then, I see, you will part but with light gifts; In weigthtier things you'll say a beggar, nay. Glo. It is too weighty for your grace to wear. |